Chapter 67 Chapter 67 I've caught the Templars...
Elio's lighthearted state didn't last long. He quickly regained his composure, especially once he emerged from the side street where the underground clinic was hidden, pulled up his hood, and returned to anonymity.
I still have a lot to do, Elio thought.
Willow's condition was beyond his control, so Elio could only focus on the progress of the experiment while forcing himself not to worry too much. He looked up. The building marked with the letter A stood in the heart of Manhattan, gleaming brightly in the sunset.
Elio didn't watch for long. As much as he wished he was there, by Willow's side, it wasn't wise to do so with an unknown enemy lurking around him.
Whether it's drawing the enemy's attention to Willow or the Avengers, because logically speaking, that is an official superhero organization, and there should be no connection between it and an assassin organization lurking in the dark and challenging the boundaries of the law.
At least, the Templars weren't supposed to know that.
Elio opened the notes on his phone. At the top was a list of Templars he hadn't opened in a while—a list he'd obtained after assassinating Dean Neumann. Blackwood, dead; Neumann, dead; Little Quinn, dead; Mitchell, dead; Galahad, skipped; Dr. Kirk, the "Man-Bat"...
It's said that Batman has found a cure that can turn him back into a human and is currently testing it. Regardless, Elio isn't going to cause him any more trouble, as long as Kirk doesn't mess with him (after all, given Kirk's current physical condition, that's going to be difficult).
That left three unidentified Templars. Elio pondered his crude drawing for a moment. Their features had been blurry enough when they appeared in the projection meeting, not to mention Elio's barely recognizable faces from a memory.
Still, Elio managed to note some distinct features.
One of them had a dark complexion and a large, hooked nose. If that wasn't enough to identify him, the white turban on his head completed the missing piece of information. Elio had reason to believe he was from the Middle East. But then again, the Middle East is a very large place.
Elio's gaze passed him regretfully, then turned to the next person. He had a high nose, deep eyes, and a dark complexion. Elio couldn't find any more distinct features. His attire and the subtle physical details that unconsciously revealed him were similar to Galahad's—a heavy coat with a suit, and a colorful tie and cufflinks. But Elio was even more familiar with the jerk's aura, especially the way he held his chin high—it was clear that he was used to looking down on others from that high nose. But this was just Elio's guess. If he were to be conservative and speculate based on his appearance, then perhaps this guy had some Southern European blood in his veins.
Elio knew even less about the last person's appearance. He didn't wear a conspicuous turban like a Middle Eastern man, nor did he have a high nose and deep eyes like a Southern European. However, he had a vague badge on his chest—Elio regretted that he couldn't see more details about it—and judging by his straight and even arrogant sitting posture, Elio had reason to suspect that he had a military history and even held a certain rank.
'Between these three,' Elio thought, putting his phone away, 'there might be one hiding near him.'
This could, to a certain extent, explain why the child named Robert was able to hear the news about him at the right time and search for the assassin wandering the streets at the right time - Elio bet that the child was less than ten years old and it was impossible for him to find the elusive assassin on his own - unless he had made new enemies without knowing it.
At least, Elio didn't think he had.
...He shouldn't have, right?
Elio, lost in thought, jumped when his phone suddenly rang with an incoming call from an unknown source. The phone tumbled wildly in his hand, and the assassin frantically grabbed the fish, which had nearly leaped out of his grasp, while glancing around inquiringly. The parasols outside the cafe stood in the shade, the owner of the food truck yawned lazily, the wind swirled, and the heat in the air mingled with the aroma of coffee and sandwiches.
Even an assassin couldn't find anything suspicious in this environment. He pressed the answer button with a stern face. A strange voice, speaking in the elegant tones of a professor, slowly answered from the other end. "Dr. Popov told me you've left the clinic, even though he explicitly told you not to. I guess that's a sign that you're free to move around, Mr. Smith. Congratulations on your recovery."
"Who are you?" Elio asked, pulling the phone from his ear and tapping the tracking button. He was used to picking up hostile undertones in greetings, but this time, Elio's enemy radar must have been wrong, because the voice, which reacted much faster than it sounded, replied steadily, "That kid named Robert has asked about you many times, Mr. Smith."
Elio stopped.
"I think he has something he wants to tell you, and it's something important," the professor said in a voice. "Much more important than 'who am I' and 'where am I', I think."
A small cross popped up on Elio's phone screen. That meant the tracking had failed. The other party was a skilled hacker, at least much more skilled than the automated program in Elio's phone, but Elio didn't have the energy to study it right now.
"You know about Robert," Elio told him. "That means you're either my enemy or my friend. That's what matters to me. So which side are you on?"
There was a brief silence on the other side.
"I wish we were friends, Mr. Smith." The professor's voice finally answered the question directly. "I tried to prevent the accident that happened to you a few days ago. Unfortunately, I didn't understand how it would happen until the moment it happened. But fortunately, our mutual friends arrived at the scene in time and saved your internal organs."
Elio frowned at the length of his speech. After a moment's reflection, he finally managed to dig out his memories of the previous few days—the events of his life while his consciousness was still in New York. A colleague in a suit had followed him, claiming he could somehow foresee certain events around Elio. Like Constantine, he called himself John. But unlike Constantine, his hair was gray, and his beautiful green eyes looked at him with a genuine sincerity. Combined with his soft, low voice, Elio chose to believe him rather than bury him in Oyster Bay (a beautiful location Elio had carefully researched) as originally planned.
Elio believed there were only two possible scenarios for danger to befall him: the Templars or Abstergo. So Elio and John teamed up to crack down on some of New York's less-than-legal "businesses" in an attempt to draw their enemies' attention. While this wasn't unsuccessful, they were misguided; they'd expected the danger to come from gunfire and war, but the opposite was true.
The real danger comes from a child and a knife in his hand.
So what John wanted to prevent happened after all, but Elio was lucky to have survived the crude attack (seriously, stabbed to death with a knife? Elio thought Alvin would have laughed at him), or rather, the kid hadn't really intended to murder him.
That's why Elio believed the Templars were most likely behind the child. Things like financial warfare and political manipulation were certainly Templar tactics that the Assassins disliked, but seriously, exploiting a child? That went beyond the pale. It was simply disgusting.
While Elio was sorting all this out, the identity of the professor he was talking to on the phone became clear.
"So you're John's friend?" Elio wondered. "You could have just said that."
Harold Finch, John Reaser's immediate superior, his mysterious, wealthy employer, a paranoid man obsessed with privacy... and John's friend (yes), fell into a brief silence. John, who was sitting next to him bandaging his wound, couldn't help but grin when he heard this, and then, when Finch glanced over at him, he showed an innocent expression like a little bear.
The real bear sat there, breathing heavily, and gave Finch the same innocent look. John rubbed its face and whispered, "We like this boy, don't we?"
"I sent you the address of the orphanage where Robert is now staying." Finch skipped the subject. "He insisted on meeting you in person."
"Thanks." Elio glanced at the text message that popped up on his phone. "But I've been sleeping these past few days, you know, I haven't had time to investigate anything. Do you have any thoughts on what he's trying to say, this 'friend of a friend'?"
"While I must admit I'm quite curious about the codename 'Templars' you mentioned," Finch said, "I have no direct information about them, except for 'Black Friday' hundreds of years ago. If they are your enemies, I'm afraid they are very, very hidden—"
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm asking about Robert."
"Oh, sorry, I thought you also believed that the Knights Templar were behind Robert." Finch raised an eyebrow. "They hid very deeply. Even I could only catch a glimpse of their tail."
"Wait," Elio said, taking his phone down and looking at it in disbelief. "What did you say?"
Did the professor's voice just say something like "I've caught the Templars"?
Finch smiled slightly at this.
"Do you remember the factory where Robert worked?" He didn't waste time repeating what he had just said. Even for a genius like Finch, it was a bit ostentatious. "The one you and our mutual friends attacked. I believe Robert learned of your whereabouts there."
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Author's Note: Oreo's Main Quest: Assassinate the Templars (6/9)
Oreo's Side Quest: Find out the secret behind Robert (in progress)
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