It was strange, having a quiet Shaun. Amanda seemed to have completely unnerved him. He still spoke to Rebecca, but he ignored Amanda for the most part and refused to speak to her even when it was necessary. Amanda often tried to lure him in, by stating an incorrect fact or by singing 'God Save the Queen' all wrong - but nothing seemed to work. Rebecca had asked multiple times what had happened, but - as far as Amanda knew - Shaun hadn't told her.
“I told you to avoid the subject of his ego,” Rebecca said, in an almost worried tone, “This is just becoming stupid. What did you do?”
Amanda huffed. What was ironic about this was that she had struck his ego - Amanda had outwitted Shaun and made him doubt the fundamental beliefs he held to like a fanatic - but she said, “I guess I'm too smart for him,” loudly.
Shaun looked in her direction, turned back, remained silent.
It made Amanda feel awful.
“On any other day, he would have killed you for saying that,” Rebecca said, scratching her head. She sighed, shrugged and then took out a bag and handed Amanda two passports.
Amanda looked at both of them, her original and the quality of the forgery. She couldn't tell them apart - the maroon covers, the logos, the words: all accurate. She opened them up to the last page, stuffed her real passport into her pocket and examined the details on the forgery.
Anna Bruce, 13 February 1978, London, etc, etc.
All that had been changed was her name.
“I'm no expert, but I can't tell the difference between the two,” Amanda flicked through the pages, “You even got all the previous stamps just right.”
“I'll forward your compliments to the artist,” Rebecca smiled, “But anyway, have you got a handle on what you're going to do when we actually get to Montreal?”
“No, please explain it all to me.”
“You and John are going to apply for jobs at Abstergo Entertainment. John's going to work as a technician and you as an analyst,” Rebecca explained, “You guys are going to be working on the inside, our moles. Shaun is going to be running a coffee stall in the lobby and I'll be a courier - just so we're close by.”
“And this analyst job? What exactly am I going to be doing?”
“Put simply, using the Animus - but looking through someone else's ancestral memories, not your own. Desmond's, most likely. Kind of like what I do, when I put you in the Animus.”
“And how exactly are you going to get me this job? I have no qualifications in IT and - truth be told - machines scare me sometimes.”
“Fake resume, duh,” Rebecca laughed, “and that's not a problem, I'll teach you how. Machines aren't that scary, they just need some love and affection. And John can help you out too, you know, if he's in the mood.”
Amanda stared, “John works with computers?”
Rebecca laughed, “I know, right?”
“I can hear you!” John called from somewhere at the front of the caravan.
“Anyway,” Amanda said, scoffing, “What will I be looking for when I get there?”
“John will guide you through it, but to sum it up - we're going to need you to hack into Abstergo's cloud servers to find out what happened to Desmond and what they're doing with his... remains. And then we'll need some leverage on the Templars - where they are, what they're doing and who's leading them now that Vidic is gone.”
“That's a lot of hacking...”
“Don't worry. I'll be able to teach you in no time.”
“Alright, you'll pay me back for that dress by teaching me how to break into someone's personal computer system, nice,” Amanda said, “But before we start, I want to go and see if I can mend things with grumpy Mr Hastings over there.”
“It's a lost cause, if you ask me. He'll come around when he comes around.”
Amanda got up anyway and walked towards Shaun. He folded his arms and turned his back to her.
“Just, please, can we go and talk outside?” Amanda said.
Shaun didn't respond.
She huffed and then reached for something sitting on the counter, “I'm taking your mug hostage until you agree.”
She didn't think Shaun would respond but he said, “It's a caravan. I'll find it eventually.”
“Not if I smash it.”
“That's not called 'taking hostage',” Shaun growled.
“Just meet me outside,” Amanda turned to leave and Shaun stomped out after her.
“What do you want?” he snapped, taking the mug back.
“To say sorry, alright?” Amanda said, “I'm sorry that I hurt you, and for, well, periodically insulting you.”
“Amanda, do you understand that I'm going to have to walk the Earth knowing that I slept with you? Sober?”
“Believe me, Shaun, I do,” Amanda replied, dropping the point to avoid further argument, “I just thought I could tell you how I felt about everything.”
“Well, you were wrong and you quite frankly scare me, Amanda,” Shaun said, turning away, “You really are a Lucy.”
“Shaun,” Amanda sighed in frustration abs followed after him, “is there nothing-?”
“No, Amanda, there isn't,” he said bluntly.
“If this is that bad, then why aren't you telling Rebecca about it? Why are you coping with me?”
“Because, unlike you, I believe you should be free to accept what you want.”
“But still shun me for it?”
Shaun stopped and stamped his foot on the ground, “I'm done talking to you,” he said and went back into the caravan.
Amanda stared after him for a while, and then muttered, “Geez Louise, what a sore loser...”