Zeke

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At Edwinstowe, the car I was in and the one with Helen and Paul in it went in different directions. I sat forward in alarm when the car turned right at a roundabout where we went left.

"They're going to be fine," Drake said. "We're taking them to our main base."

"And where are you taking me?" I asked.

"You and the compact animus are headed for a meeting with Zeke," Drake said. "You didn't think I was lying did you?"

"I don't know what to believe, honestly," I said. "As far as I'm concerned you're still just the guy who had me at gunpoint thirty minutes ago."

"I had my orders, bring you to Zeke, unharmed," Drake said. "You running away was not to be allowed. There are people out there who want you as dead as they can possibly make you."

"So I heard," I said.

"Relax," Drake said. "You'll feel better when we meet up with Zeke."

Finch drove Helen's car into Derbyshire and down some more tight windy roads that went up and down hills until we reached a small town called Belper. He drove up a couple of residential streets until we arrived at a tiny little cul-de-sac of four houses. Finch drove the car into a garage and all three of us got out, crossed the road and entered one of the terraced cottages.

We walked straight into a small living room that was pretty cramped; even though all it was furnished with was two three seater sofas and a coffee table. Sat on the end of one of the sofas, tapping away on a laptop was someone I recognised.

"Zeke?" I said.

"Sam?" Zeke asked. "I've only ever seen photos, well, since you were about a month old, anyway. Jesus, it's... you're... you're my fucking brother, man!"

Zeke stood up and came over to me, filled with happiness that was, I had to admit, a little infectious. I wondered if he was going to hug me, and I have to say I flinched.

He saw me draw back and stopped.

"Sorry, man," he said. "I've had a long time to work up to this. Must be kind of a shock for you."

"You could say," I replied.

"Maybe we could all do with some tea, Drake?"

"Sure," Drake said. "Sam, how'd you take it?"

That was yet another weird experience to toss on the stack. An hour ago this guy had been stalking me through a forest with a pistol, now he was making me tea.

"White, no sugar," I said.

Drake nodded and went into the kitchen, the door to which was just to the left of the door into the house.

"Take a seat," Zeke said. "We've got a lot to discuss."

I took a seat on the sofa, a flowery monstrosity that turned out to be soft and with more than it's fair share of loose springs. Once you got into your seat it was going to be difficult to get back out. I snorted, half snigger, half sigh, at the thought that the sofa could be seen as a metaphor for being mixed up in all this cloak and dagger crap.

"I imagine you're more than a little confused, probably frightened and, obviously, mad as hell," Zeke said. His tone was soft but urgent. I could almost feel him pushing for rapport. "I was too, when they came for me, the Templars."

"How long ago was that?" I asked. I meant, how long has it taken you to go from being a hunted animal to being a domestic terrorist, hiding in a bolt hole, plotting. I think the nuance was far enough away for him not to pick up the whole thing. I don't know where it came from but I've never been a team player even before all this stuff. Possibly that was why the Templars and Assassins had a tough time chasing me down. I didn't go by any name they would have known, I didn't have many friends. In the game of us versus them, us was "me", it always had been. To this very minute that hadn't changed.

"Uh, five... six years now," Zeke said, missing my, admittedly vague, point. "I was young when they found me."

"That's how they seem to like it," I said. "Thankfully, I have no idea what I want to do with my life and, to be honest, working in a call centre wasn't really working out for me, so, hey, I guess I might as well get involved in a death cult."

"There aren't any cults here," Zeke said softly. "You're a free man as far as anyone here is concerned, it's the Templars that have other ideas. I'm just trying to look out for my little bro, that's all."

I studied his face, I flared my nostrils trying to smell the bullshit. He was a mask. Was it just my youthful cynicism that filled me with distrust? A psychiatrist once told me straight up that I was going to find making emotional bonds tough, I wasn't raised in an atmosphere of unconditional love, I was going to have to learn to trust. I asked them why I would have to learn that, what would it profit me to trust people? People were only ever out for themselves, people were scum. Why was it a necessary life skill to trust them? Despite much bluster, the shrink had provided no solid answers to that one. It boiled down to: "You just can't go through life trusting no-one, it's just not feasible."

I hadn't seen why at the time. I still didn't.

"Maybe I should take my chances," I said. "I won't do more here than get under your feet."

"Well, that's..." Zeke knitted his brows, puzzled. He did a weird thing with his mouth. If I'd had to take a bet I'd say that my last comment might actually have hurt him, emotionally. "I mean... I don't like thinking of you in danger. You've been here, I don't know, ten minutes and you want to take off. Is my face that untrustworthy?"

Drake came in with a tray of tea, there were biscuits. This did nothing to change the atmosphere. If anything it just invoked a soap opera area of the uncanny valley. Was this life? I asked myself.

"It's not you," I answered Zeke. "I had trust issues before I knew that shadowy organisations were attempting to kill me."

"Then I won't try to reassure you," Zeke said. "I will warn you, though, you are not strong enough to go it alone. The knowledge we hold in our genes is so valuable that neither of us can afford to be caught."

"And when will that ever end?" I asked.

"One of two ways," Zeke answered. "When Abstergo has enough of our blood to not need us they will kill us and burn us to be the sole owners of Yughi's memory trail. Or, if we go right down the rabbit hole, then we can dump the info onto the net, so everyone has access to it. Then what we have will no longer be a valuable secret. Our priority on the Abstergo hit list will drop low enough that we can help the next mark, or... do whatever, although, to be honest, I think Abstergo can pretty much be considered our enemies for life at this point."

"Unless we win," Drake added, he sipped his tea and nibbled a biscuit.

"And how likely is that?" I asked, not sure whether I was being rhetorical.

"Not very," Zeke admitted. "But we can get all the information about Yughi out there. We can take what we can get. It's better than... well, it's better than this."

"So, what?" I asked Zeke. "You're going to come into the animus with me?"

Zeke shook his head.

"We're both related to the same guy, we can't both synch with him," Zeke said.

"So I'm strapping the experimental tech back to my head and taking all the risks, am I?" I said. I didn't actually mind going back in but I was aware that only my mind went anywhere. The rest of me would still be out here and completely oblivious to incoming threats.

"Hardly all the risks," Drake said, his tone hot.

"I've been training for five years to protect someone researching in the Animus," Zeke said, his tone was neutral. "I have literally been training to protect you in there for half a decade. After a couple of days, you can't possibly do the same for me."

I had to admit, he had a point. Back in the forest, I had largely lucked out. They weren't expecting me to have any skills, next time I might not be so lucky as to be underestimated.

I sighed. All my life I've had this feeling that my back was against the wall. Up until a couple of days ago, it had been purely paranoia. Now paranoia was reality and I almost found it comforting. All my responsibility had been stripped away. I was on a path and there were no more choices except the next step. Anything else was just hesitation.

So, I stopped hesitating.

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