"You know the Elder?" William Miles looked mildly surprised, then composed himself. "Times have changed. If we want to operate in secret, we can't wear such conspicuous markings.
"Otherwise, the cameras everywhere will catch us and leave records, and we won't be able to stay hidden. As for your uniform, its features are unmistakable—unless you're an impostor. But with abilities like yours, I suppose it hardly matters whether you're using someone else's name."
"You've got a good eye, old man." Alexei chuckled, then looked at the man and woman who emerged side by side, rifles in hand. "And who are you two?"
"We're assassins from the Mutual Aid Society," Cross answered, deliberately drawing a distinction between them and the assassins William Miles had brought. At the mention of the Mutual Aid Society, William Miles glanced at the pair. Cross, a composed older man, showed no particular reaction, but Fox bristled like an angry cat, baring her teeth at the man looking at her. "What are you staring at?"
Fox's reaction rubbed quite a few of the younger assassins the wrong way. For a moment, the two sides seemed ready to come to blows.
But William Miles raised a hand, restraining the young people under his command. "Don't cause trouble."
Cross also caught Fox by the back of her collar and pulled her back. "My youngster is a little hotheaded. I apologize." Though both leaders were reining in the impulsive behavior of their subordinates or juniors, they still watched each other out of the corners of their eyes. The Mutual Aid Society had once been a branch of the Assassin Brotherhood, but its members had broken away to follow the nebulous instructions of the Loom of Fate. Their departure had not involved joining the Templars or violating the Creed.
Thus, successive