Chased

Execution (Old)

I yanked at the arm holding me to the spot on top of the stage, "Fucking bastard." I hissed. Lee chuckled, "Stop struggling or you'll ruin the dress." I looked down at my attire. It was a stupid dress, with a loose bottom and a red cloth for the choice of fabric.

Uncomfortable as hell.

Lee pulled me on to the stage as I saw Connor being yanked out of the wagon. I pulled at Lee's grip out of reflex but ended up being forced back.

Shit.

I glanced around, scanning the rooftops. In my seach, I found many of my fellow Assassins. Good. I had a plan.

I threw a glance at Lee to assure I wasn't being observed, then scanned the rooftops. They were all in position. The exact way Achilles told them to be. I grinned. If the trainees did this exactly the way they were told, then Connor should have a fighting chance.

Speaking of Connor...

Lee nudged me, grabbing my attention. "Your little friend is here. If you try anything..." He snatched the back of my neck and pulled me straight up, "... I will kill him myself." Lee revealed a gun behind his cloak.

I snarled.

He chuckled.

"Connor will live much longer than you." "The savage from the woods? I highly doubt it." "I will make sure he does if I have to ensure it myself." I barked. Lee shook his head before speaking to the crowd, awaiting Connor's arrival upon the stage.

"Brothers. Sisters. Fellow Patriots. Several days ago we learned of a scheme so vile, so dastardly - that even repeating it now, disturbs my being." Lee gestured behind the stage, where Washington stood, and around it, before casting a side glance to me, then continued speaking.

"The man before you plotted to murder our much beloved General. Indeed. What darkness or madness moved him, none can say. And he himself offers no defense. Shows no remorse. And though we have begged and pleaded with him to share what he knows, he maintains a deadly silence." Lee spoke as Connor was forced on to the stage.

Him and I locked eyes. Worry clouded his gaze. I gave him a reassuring look, saying that I had a plan. Connor knew that look. It was my mischievous face. Connor smirked before the men turned him around to face the crowd.

"If the man will not explain himself - if he will not confess and atone - what other option do we have, but this? He sought to send us into the arms of the enemy. And thus, we are compelled by justice to send him from this world. May God have mercy on your soul."

A bag was placed over Connor's head, causing me to hold my breath. Suddenly, I was rethinking this whole plan. My eyes casted their gaze to the rope hanging above Connor's head.

One of the Assassins were to throw a knife at the rope right before the plank under Connor's feet opened. I would shove Lee away so that Connor could go after Hickey (whom would most likely retreat and go after Washington). Achilles (who is under my feet, under the stage) will give Connor his tomahawk. Hickey dies, then Connor and I leave with Achilles.

Seems simple enough, right?

Wrong.

At first, this plan was the best thing I had ever heard. Now, I was having second thoughts. What if the knife didn't hit the rope? What if Connor was caught in the rope's grip? Could I grab the gun off of Lee's hip and use it to break the rope?