Well, as promised, here is the long overdue update for this story. I apologize in advance if this seems short or like it's a lazy chapter. It's been difficult trying to reconnect with a story for which I don't have the same passion as I did a few years ago. This chapter is mostly setting the scene for the final chapters to come.

Anyways. Special shout out to ObsessedwReading, NothingWithEverything, and ultimateform14 for your kind words regarding the recent author's note. As always, please review and criticize (constructively) and let me know what you think!

After listening to one of Vidic's ridiculous speeches on how the Templars only want to save mankind, Vidic's guards bound, gagged, and blindfolded Desmond and his three companions before loading them into the back of a windowless van.

Desmond could tell by touch that he was sitting next to Alice and across from King but had a hard time placing Lucy. He tried accessing his eagle vision from behind his blindfold, but much to his disappointment, all he saw was darkness.

Nikolai's screams were still resonating in Desmond's head, playing over and over again on a loop. Guilt over leaving Nikolai behind and doing nothing to try to save him began taunting Desmond despite the fact he knew there was nothing he could have done. If it weren't for the security in knowing Vidic still had no idea why he and his friends were out in that cemetery, he wouldn't have been holding up so well. As far as he was aware, Vidic had only simply been tracking him in an effort to capture him once again.

"When we get back to our little...home away from home...we're going to have a nice chat about you were doing in that cemetery, Mr. Miles." Desmond really didn't care to find out what Vidic meant by a home away from home if it meant their destination was anything like the room in which he was held at Abstergo.

The van had been uncomfortably quiet after Vidic's small caravan hit the road; even if their mouths hadn't been gagged, Desmond probably wouldn't have felt confident enough to taunt his captors. About a half an hour on the road later, the silence in the van was broken by the sound of a camera flash. Alice fidgeted uncomfortably against Desmond's arm in reaction to the noise.

"Poor Evan's gonna lose it when he sees this," a voice joked quietly to someone in the van. Desmond recognized the voice to be Michael's, and the male laugh that immediately followed wasn't King, so it had to have been another guard.

Desmond felt Alice shift against him again, this time his movement was accompanied with a muffled cry of distress. "Come on, Alice," Michael hissed. "I just want to show Isaac here that scar you got in Paris."

More sounds of shuffling and cries came from Alice's seat, and just as Desmond was about to attempt to position himself between Alice and Michael, he heard a wet thud and a cracking noise like someone being punched or hit in the face.

"You bitch!" Michael screamed, his voice muffled. There was another thud, this one louder and more mechanical. Alice slumped limply against Desmond after the noise and then rolled onto the van floor.

Desmond decided it was time to act and began standing up from his van seat. Mid stance and his body turned towards Michael's general direction, he was prepared to charge as fast and hard as he could.

Michael and his fellow guard, Isaac, had just realized Desmond was now upright and standing on his feet, and before they could threaten or contain their captive, screams from the cab of the van broke everyone's train of thought.

"Shit! We're under attack!" the driver screamed frantically. Gunshots could be heard in the near distance, and at least one car had either crashed or been hit. The van in which Desmond was held began swerving slightly, causing Alice's limp body to roll back and forth on the floor. Desmond immediately sat back down in his seat to keep from falling over and trapped Alice's body between his feet and his seat to keep her from getting tossed around.

Gunshots continued to fire around the van, surprisingly none of them actually struck the van itself. That is until one hit one of the front tires. Desmond could feel the van shifting to the right and feared it would roll over. The driver attempted to keep control of the van, but his efforts were in vain as the van rolled over hard on its right side and skidded down the road.

Somebody landed on top of Desmond when the van crashed. He could tell it had to be Lucy or King because he felt no arms or hands from them in attempt to break their fall. One of the Templar guards tried to make it to the door at the back of the van but tripped over the assassins beneath him. One of the guard's heavy boots struck Desmond in the head, knocking him unconscious.

When Desmond came to, he was propped up against a door in the back seat of a sedan car. His gag and blindfold had been removed, and when he reached up to touch his head where the guard had struck him, he realized his bindings had been removed.

"Hey, you're awake," Lucy soothed. She was sitting in the middle of the back seat next to Desmond, King sitting next to her on her left. "How's your head feeling?"

His inspection of his head wound didn't return any signs of bleeding, but he could feel a very small cut at the top of his head. "Bad headache. What happened?" Desmond didn't recognize the man driving the car or the woman riding shotgun, but they were both armed and on high alert. He assumed they were fellow assassins.

"Fail safe. My brother somehow knew something had happened to us back at the cemetery and sent a team out on a rescue mission," Lucy explained. Her voice was still a bit shaky from adrenaline despite her overall relaxed mood.

"Where's Alice? I think Michael struck her in the head bu-"

"She's fine," Lucy interjected. "I mean, she's got a concussion and a nasty cut on her face, but she'll be fine." She continued to explain that Alice was riding in another car with a nurse to receive medical attention for her wounds.

Desmond sighed with relief. "Thank God. What about the Templars back there?"

"Michael is dead," King stated flatly. He was looking down at his hands, which were fumbling around together as he wrapped them around each other and massaged his palms with his thumbs. "I can't believe he was one of them."

Lucy turned towards King and placed a comforting hand on his right knee. "I'm so sorry." Lucy didn't know King or Michael's history, but they had seemed to be close friends from her observations.

"At least we got the rest of them, too," King replied defiantly. "Fucking assholes."

Desmond frowned in confusion when Lucy gave King a small smile. "The rest of them? What about Vidic?"

Lucy turned to face Desmond, her smile still present on her face. Despite the darkness of the night, Desmond could make out a twinkle in her eyes through the dim lighting of the car.

"Desmond, Vidic is dead."