At Cross Roads

Re-entry for the Name on My Wrist comp

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7. October 22nd 2012 ~ Rome, Italy

The mess hall was packed with new recruits and agents, eating and talking about worldly subjects and training schemes. The ambience was quite pleasant.
Yet, Daniel chose to sit at a table by himself.
Though, he had done this sort of work in his early Templar years, he hated that Vidic would set him up with the job again.
This was not why Daniel had intended to come to Rome. This was not his purpose - to train new, 'promising' recruits.
Urgh.
Daniel was here to track down and recapture Abstergo's Subject 17, Desmond Miles. That was his purpose. That's why he'd flown here.
Daniel cast a lazy, frustrated eye around the bustle and chatter around him and sighed.
“Two days,” he muttered mockingly, “The old man has a stick up his ass,” he pushed his food-tray away (the tray still being quite full with food) and rubbed his forehead.

“Been distracted lately?”

Daniel looked up - for no other reason than to set eyes upon the face that had decided to irritate him - and said, “Find someone else to fuck with.”
The man smiled, a couple of his friends joined him. He was familiar, Daniel noted, but he couldn't quite place him.
Daniel regarded each of them in turn, “Been here ten seconds and you reckon you can lay a few on me?” he stood up, taking his tray in one hand, “Leave. Before I shove this somewhere unpleasant.”
“'Unpleasant', eh?” the man scoffed to his friends, “Must get it from good old Mandy.”
Daniel's face became set, his teeth clenching, finally recognising the man, “Ah. The loser from the bar, right? You come to get a second dose of your own dentures?”
Rick's smile waned, “That were a different time. You caught me unawares with your mental shit. That's my woman you took home, mate. I can't be havin' that.”
“You don't want to screw with me, asswipe.”
Rick punched Daniel square in the face, “Maybe I do,” he said.
Daniel touched his cheek, smiling slightly at the silence that greeted the punch, and spat blood on the floor. He looked at Rick, “You really don't,” he said coldly, “and now you'll know why.”

Daniel picked up the table and slammed it against Rick's body. Daniel pushed him up against the wall and headbutted him several times. Gore spurted from Rick's nose, his eyelids swollen and shut, and his lips burst - howling at every sickening crunch. Hands grabbed Daniel from behind, and he dropped the table and he lashed out. It earned him another fist to the head, but Daniel bit back - hard. The other recruit screamed, and threw punches wildly at Daniel's face, but Daniel's teeth tore through skin and drew blood. He only let go as a fist hit him in the eye. He cried out angrily and kicked the man straight up between the legs. The third man started backing away but it already was too late for that. Daniel dropped a kick on one - knocking him out - and stabbed a few punches at the final. Agents were gathering, pushing through the horrified crowd of people as they watched.

“Cross, you mad bastard, stop!” one howled, trying to intervene.
“I warned him,” Daniel snapped, “I warned all of them!” when the last recruit fell, Daniel stomped on his face.
“You know better than this,” said the agent, “Quit harassing them, or I'll have to-”
Daniel held his head and slapped the agent across the face, “Have to what?” He snarled at them, in their cute little matching uniforms. Those caps were enough to make him laugh.
“Cross...” said the agent carefully, holding back his temper, “We aren't here for a fight.”
Daniel paused. His head was pounding. As the adrenaline began to subside, the pain and exertion began to register. He nodded.

And then something struck him in the back of his knee.

“Argh!” he howled as he fell. He saw a stick in Rick's outstretched hand, “Still conscious, eh?” he barked. The agents began to surround him, but Daniel took Rick's arm in his hands and snapped it like it was a twig. Rick screamed at the top of his lungs, his gory face staring widely at his broken arm. Daniel put a stop to it by crashing a fist down on Rick's head.
But he wasn't done.
“Stop this!” said the first agent.
“Cross, calm down!” said a second.
“Hey, what the hell are you-!” tried a third.
The fourth just screamed. 
                

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