Assassin's Creed 3 - Liberty's Kids - Crossover Fanfic

Chapter 8: Bunker Hill

Bunker Hill

We had taken cover under an overturned rowboat. We weren't hiding, it was more of a tactical advantage.

I was protecting Sarah, as she covered the fighting from the British side.

Glad I got a chance to tell Connor, I was going with Sarah before the fighting started. I thought as I sat up.

My hood was up and so was my face mask. It helped filter the dust and smoke from the battle.

Sarah was writing furiously in her notepad as I kept a lookout. We had to move several times to avoid being hit by stray cannon fire.

Even at the distance, we were at, I feared going partially deaf.

I was running a mental checklist of my weapons and tools when I heard approaching footsteps.

I shifted silently into a crouch.

Two Redcoats were approaching the boat.

I tapped Sarah on the hand. She stopped writing and looked at me.

I gestured for silence.

I breathed a curse. They didn't wear anything associating them with Templars, but they were still enemy soldiers.

"Stay behind me." I whispered.

"But I need to find out more about my father. What better place than the army's higher ups?" She whispered back.

I hope you know what you're doing.

***

I walked with an air of arrogance as were escorted through the British camp.

Even though the two guards were within strike distance, I stayed my hand. I could use this to my advantage. Sarah gets information about her father. I thought.

We stopped at a large tent. I assumed it was used as office space for some sort of officer.

The soldier leading us held the tent flap open for us to enter.

I could walk off with some papers and -

My thoughts trailed off when I saw who was at the desk in the middle of the tent.

Haytham Kenway. Templar Grandmaster, and my father-in-law.

Shite.

There was someone else in the tent. I also knew of him.

Thomas Hickey, renown leach, and Kenway's connection to the illegal market.

From what I knew of him, Hickey deserved to be stabbed more than Haytham.

They looked up from their papers that littered the desk.

Haytham got to his feet. His gaze traveled from me to Sarah, to the guards.

I did my best to not audibly gulp.

"We found them at the edge of camp, sir." The guard that had escorted us in, said.

Haytham dismissed him.

"I'm Sarah Phillips," she said without prompting. "I'm a journalist for the Pennsylvania Gazette. I am reporting about the British army's side of the battle. And I am looking for some information about my father, Major John Phillips. "

"The journalist part I can understand. But why ask about your father, in the middle of a battlefield?" Haytham asked.

"Surely, someone under your command has heard from him."