To the recipient of this USB file,I am not sure how you got this, but I pray that this is in Assassin hands. But if not, there is an email that you need to contact. I am bleeding and barely keeping it settle in a internet Cafe, but it is hard to do…when you are injured by a shot in the arm.
I don’t have much time, in the following is an email All you have to do is email it with a simple code. It’s NOTHINGISTRUE72! Just send a copy of the folder and it will get there. You may expect someone contacting you for more information. In the mean time, you are responsible for this data. This is data from Abstergo Entertainment on an unknown subject matter. This subject’s DNA will be the key…
Need to go. All I can say, the ancestor you're about to witness is an Assassin from the French and Indian war. Abstergo skipped the rest due to the first data being…normal at that time. But I have dug into it, and trust me, Katie Shepherd is key in this war. Find out what you can for now, and more will come. I swear.End of Message...
New York, New York
“Tell us where the money is, and we will leave you be.”
Kathryn Shepherd-also known to be called Katie was surrounded by the members of the Lobos gang. Standing firm and tall, Katie started the Spanish leader in his black eyes with her dark aura eyes. Snow swirled all around the street as if the wind was participating, causing it to make a flowing pattern in this tense scene. Even the winter winds wanted to create a dramatic environment, it was taken more serious than most of the gangs of Spaniard's and British thugs.
Liam O’Brien, her master, had told her, “An assassin is like that of St. Patrick. You must have enough skill and wisdom to outdraw the snakes.” She found the right words to respond to the Spaniard leader,
“A Spaniard dog like you should know not to try to steal from a woman of integrity.”
The leader laughed “Bold words coming from a batch of mixed mutts of Irish and Scotts you pretty stray puppy. The Finnegan’s owe us money, along with all these scums from across the sea. But we know ever since their only son died “mysteriously” last year, they had been looking out for their helpless Irish-Scott mutt of a niece, who now has more balls than Barry ever had.”
The Irish temper had begun to rise high and caused her face to redden with anger.
How dare they mock about her heritage and her family. She’d thought. As long as she could remember, from when she arrived from Ireland at the age of seven, people had mocked her for not only her heritage but for the family's different ideals. When the pelage claimed the lives of both her parents on the voyage to the colonies, Berry and Cassidy Finnegan and their son Daniel took her in with opened arms. All she ever wanted was to have a place in a world that held so much promise.
Katie started to make her way around when one of the thugs grabbed her upper left arm. Upon the contact, she unleashed her hidden blade from her right sleeve and stabbed him into his left shoulder. The leader cried out in pain as he let go and grasped his wound, drops of blood landed on the snow covered street. The other cowards exclaiming,
“She’s one of them!”
“Don’t know what you mean?”
The leader groaned and said,
“Mark me words Shepherd, someday your tricks won’t be enough to save you.”
Katie gave a dry laugh,
“You always say that Pedro.”
The leader cursed in Spanish and ran with the gang.
Cleaning her hidden blade with a handkerchief, Katie had removed the blade from her left arm and placed it in the basket of spices. She was always diligent on trying to keep her role as an Assassin a secret. The last thing she wanted was Cassidy and Barry to know about a war that both their son and nice are a part of. She covered the hidden blade with the handkerchief and made her way to her aunt and uncle’s manor.
As she walked past Wall Street and spotted the old rundown church, the gangs had been setting fires to various buildings in the Irish district to set an example. That church was one of few that still stood on its foundation, and it was also the place where her cousin was laid to rest.
She had thought a lot about Daniel even after he was killed “on duty” in Haiti, by an unexpected chain of events. Daniel Finnegan was seven years her senior, but he was the brother she’d never had, even when she made it to the New York Harbor twelve years ago. They would often talk about ways of how the Irish district could be improved, along with all of the city of New York. Daniel would often be Katie’s rescue when she would land into trouble. She chuckled at most of the memories that flooded her mind. There was the time when she was dared by the local boys to go steal a lamb from the marketplace. Yet she’d remembered that two other boys tried either to help her or stop her. She did get caught by the shepherd, but Daniel managed to get her out of trouble and the guard’s arms before she would get thrown into prison. It seemed so long ago. Their lives were humble, but still, Katie loved those childhood days. All changed when Daniel was less around.
He began to work in a group associated with the British Army Officer, Coronal George Monro. At first, Katie was appealed that she had her cousin work among a British soldier. She of course at the time was preoccupied with her apprenticeship with a spice, herb, and tea merchant, Jean Pierce. Normally women were not excepted into such positions, but Jean must have seen potential in her. It was he who introduced her to the Brotherhood upon one of his “trips” up in the northern colonies. She would at times be going to the Devonport Homestead to be trained by the Mentor Achilles Davenport, along with Hope, and more recently Liam O’Brian. Liam became the second brother figure in her life when Daniel was barely around. In fact, it was probably a gift from God that the Assassin’s came into the picture. They held the same ideals of wanting individuality and freedom as a nation, from iron gripped associations such as the Templars. It wasn’t until later she’d discovered that Daniel had become a member of the Templars of the Colonial Rite. Katie’s heart was heavy, thinking the last time they’d spoken together. It had been painful and merciful for both of them.
When Katie made it to the Finnegan’s home, her home, she noticed her cat, Leo sleeping lazily at the edge of the roof above Daniel’s old bedroom. A bittersweet grin came upon her face. Daniel used to hate that cat, saying that it allowed the mice to conquer the pantry passed the lazy feline. Of course, it was Daniel who helped Katie on convincing Barry to allow her to keep the cat, as long as it stayed outside of the house. Often Katie would tell Daniel that the reason why Leo likes to sleep on the roof near his window was he could see in his lion's den. To keep a lookout for angels.
She stomped her shoes on the doorstep, opened the door, and went inside the house. Katie could see Barry sitting at the table talking to Coronal Monro, their heads turned when she closed the door. Katie was surprised to see him here at her house. The last time he was here, he had to bring the saddened news the Finnegan’s son had died. The Coronal stood up from his seat and tipped his hat toward her.
The Coronal and Katie had met on occasions when Daniel would see her on the streets. When she would ask him about the coronal, Daniel only said that he worked for him.
The woman gave a small curtsey in response to the gesture. In her mind, she felt that she was simply a wolf in sheep’s clothing. The assassin in innocence clothing.
“Colonel Monro. This is unexpected, I haven’t seen you since the funeral.” Katie said, keeping her voice formal.
“Yes, it has been a while. Mr. Finnegan was just telling me that you work at Master Pierce’s herb shop.” The Coronal’s eyes were looking up toward the stairs that lead to the second floor as he spoke. “I was hoping that you'd bring some herbs with you from your journey back.”
The statement caught Katie off guard, but she’d kept her face normal. Something that five years ago she failed to do. She nodded.
The Coronal had his hands behind his back, in a military stature. “I was told by your uncle that you are associated with Mr. Pierce, and you just returned from the Carolinas.”
“Yes sir, there were some spices that Mr. Pierce wanted for his shop, it seemed that the king’s soldiers needed more salve and us-”
“Miss Shepherd, I’d trust that a young man may need your assistance Miss Shepherd.” The colonel then placed his hand on her shoulder as he’d spoke, “Two days ago, my men found a him half dead and bleeding on a shoreline. I sent him to be cared for by your aunt and uncle. And they told me about your work with herbs, and how you’d been grieving silently for Daniel.”
The interruption and analyzation of her grief seemed unnecessary enough to make her angry. Bad timing sir! Just thank God there's an injured man... wait, there's an injured man here? Why would the colonel bring him?
Katie gave a nod in response, knowing that it was true that she poured herself her work when in secret she went into her training with Achilles and Liam when she would travel for Mr. Pierce’s missions. She sighed, pushing a stray loc
k of red hair away from her face.
“Yes, I’ve been Colonel; but what do my herbs have to do with this poor soul? Make him the king’s tea?” Katie said sarcastically.
“Katie!” Barry barked, his face almost red.
“It’s quite alright, Mr. Finnegan.” The Coronal said, raising a gloved hand. He turned back to Katie and said,
“You will be using herbs to mend wounds, and to assist your aunt and uncle.”
Katie crossed her arms and went to face the open fireplace to watch the flames dance upon the wood. She knew that this could be a golden opportunity to keep an eye on the colonal. From the way he spoke about the poor wretch, he would come and check on him.
Perhaps this is the open door for the assassins to know the templar’s plans. It was something Achilles would want her to do.
After a long moment, she faced the colonel again , “Aye colonel, I’ll lend a hand. And a bushel of herbs if that’s what it takes.”
The man gave a smile , “Thank you, Miss Shepherd. Though I’m afraid his condition is more serious then a few herds can manage.”
Katie’s eyes went to the stairs, “Well I better get started then. Colonel.” She’d made a final curtsey, as the coronal had returned the gesture with a small bow.
“Farewell Ms. Shepherd. If you or any of your family need anything, don’t hesitate to ask for my aid.”
After the colonel left the house, Katie grabbed a select amount of herbs from her leather purse and went upstairs towards Daniel’s old room. For it was the only guest room in the house. She took a long breath and went inside. Seeing her aunt placing a blanket on a pale body. After an embrace the aging woman, Katie looked down upon the comatose man. He was half naked from the waist up, a heavy blanket was placed on his lower half to cover his nakedness, his heavily muscled body was covered with blood stained bandages. His black hair scattered all over his face, a long newly placed scar drew her attention to his right eye. Katie then asked,
“Aunt Cassidy, how long has he’d been like this?”
“Not sure Lassie Girl. The doctor was here this morning. He said the wounds and bandages need cleaning at least once a day. But his wounds had really taken a toll on the fever.”
Katie rolled up her sleeves, “Well, it looks like we're going to have to change this bleeding run of a muck’s bandages soon.”
She took some water and ground the herbs that she’d saved in her pouch for such wounds.
Katie waited until Barry came back upstairs in order to aid the women in lifting the man’s upper body. Katie then untied the knots of the bandages around his abdomen, from what she saw were stitches peeking from the left side. The blanket slid off a few inches down. Katie tried her hardest not to look past the wounds, the blood flushed her cheeks rapidly. As she unwrapped the stained wraps, the horrors of what possibly happened to this man unveiled. Two large scars were stitched up stretched across the lower parts of his chests, yellow liquid drained out of the wounds. There were bruises all along his rib cage, and small cuts that seemed harmless started to scab on his hands, arms and shoulders. The worst of all was the lone bullet hole on his side.
“What kind of hell did this one go through!” Katie said, a mask of awe and disbelief covered her tone.
“By the Saints,” Barry said, marking the crucifix on his chest with his free hand.
Katie started the process by cleaning the wounds with a wet rag, dipped in warm water mixed with salt. She was careful to not pull the stitches as she held the rag against the area and gently rubbing the infection off. She could feel the mucsels of the man tightening up as she presses new salt water into the wound. There were times when she’d thought she’d seen his eyes open slightly, then shut again. She’d placed the herbs over the stitches as Cassidy handed over the fresh bandage the doctor provided. Then she chewed on some, removed it from her mouth and placed it in the bullet hole and compressed it in.
After she’d tied him up, Barry lowered him onto the bed, Cassidy then covered him again with more blankets.
Katie went to the window and dumped the contacts in the bowl into the streets below.
“I’ll get us some fresh water,” The elderly woman said, turning to go downstairs.
Barry and Katie looked down upon the man. She couldn’t help but noticed that he seemed familiar somehow. She also noticed that he was a bit handsome beyond the rough look.
“Looks like we're going to have to keep an eye on this poor bastard,” Barry stated.
Cassidy returned with a basin of clean water with a cloth.
“I’ll look after him.” She said.
But Katie placed a hand on her aunt’s shoulder and said, “Looks like you and Uncle Barry have done enough while I was gone. I’ll take the first shift.”
“You just barely got home Katie,” Cassidy said.
Katie shook her head, “Must we argue? You've probably done enough for him for now. Besides, Pierce trained me to handle such situations.”
“You're a good lass,” Barry said. “I never thought I see the day that both you and Daniel, God rest him, had become such strong individuals of the Irish community.”
Katie smiled, knowing what Barry meant. From trouble makers to adults.
If only they knew. She’d thought.
When Cassidy and Barry left the bedroom, she gently felt the man's forehead. The skin was hot to the touch. Katie grabbed the washcloth, squeezed the water out, and gently bathed his face. She still wondered where she’d seen him before. As her thoughts drifted for a long while, she suddenly felt a hand grabbing her shirt.
She didn’t scream, but her instincts were ready to unleash her hidden blade if needed so. Still, the fear was in her gut like rotted meat.
She looked into the deepest brown eyes, eyes filled with a mixture of confusion, sadness, and anger.
“Is this suppose to be a mockery from the devil?!” He barked, a thick husky Irish accent rang in the room.
Katie brushed his hand off her shoulder, “What are you saying you mad man?”
“For what has happened. Lisbon. Haiti. All those souls lost.” His voice was to the point of cracking, as if he'd seen something terrible. Katie was motionless as she grabbed his hand, and gently removed it from her shirt, “I don’t know what has happened or what you did, but you should thank God almighty and the saints that your still among the living.”
Barry and Cassidy burst forth in the room, and Barry exclaimed, “Katie, what the bloody hell is going on?”
The man was breathing heavily as he and Katie were still locked in eye contact. Katie was the first to break off the stare, and she turned and said, “It’s alright Barry. I believe this man just had a nightmare. He’s burning up after all.”
As she’d turned back to the man. Rubbing his eyes, he’d struggled to sit up again. He then looked up, “I do apologize for the way I acted lass.”
Katie gave a small smile. “As long as your out of that shell-shocked mind, then all has passed.”
Barry then came to the bedside. Followed by his wife, moved with apprehension. Barry gave a hard look, and said, “May we ask thoug,h who you, young man? Since we are asked to take you under this home’s roof?”
The man looked at Barry, “My name is Shay Patrick Cormac.”
Cassidy gave a smile, “See, he is an Irishman.”
Barry stretched out his hand to shake, “Barry Finnegan. This is my wife Cassidy, and seemed you’ve meet Kathryn, my niece.”
Shay accepted the handshake and gave a nod to both Cassidy and to the woman. He never stopped looking at her.
What Shay couldn’t stop looking at was the young woman he’s almost assaulted. Now that he had some common sense returning to him, he got to see the features of Kathryn. She looked to be around the same age as him, give or take a year, with waves of a rich ginger hair that were the color of autumn leaves. What captured him the most, however, were the deep aqua eyes, the colors that reminded him of sailing on the coasts with the Morrigan. Those eyes showed a new kind of breed of women: intelligent, stubborn, and honorable. Reminded him of the girls back at Galloway or Dublin. Galloway. Even the thought of the conversations of the homeland and of the type of women most desired to Liam brought a pain deeper than the throb all over his body. How could Liam, his best and only friend ended up literally shooting him in the back?
He gave a sharp gasp of pain and grasped his side as he shifted in bed. Katie shook her head. “Whatever you went through, seems that you didn’t have enough luck,” Kathryn said.
“Katie!” Cassidy exclaimed. Katie knew that it was sarcastic, but it couldn't have been helped.
Shay then gave a smile that seemed so innocent and warm. He’d replied in a hushed tone,
“Lass, the first thing you need to know about me is, I make my own luck.”
“Is that so?” Was Katie’s only response, and she’d gave him a smile that seemed to brighten him up before exaltation overtook him.
Cassidy pulled the sheets over Shay’s body, as he breathed heavily. Pearls of sweat pooled over is forehead, making his dark hair damped on his face. Katie refreshed the rag and placed it on his forehead. Though there was something about this man, even the name, Shay Cormac, seemed familiar to her. But it doesn't matter now, this would be the perfect diversion from the pain she’d been feeling for a long time.