A maze without street names.
He'd scaled the Campanile and skittered across these roofs so many times through the portal of his PS3. Enough times to feel he knew the city. But now he'd had the order, and he was here. Things were different. For one thing, there was no way he could navigate the city skyline without being seen from the street.
Ezio never had this problem.
He unlocked his phone and flicked to the photo of his target. Diplomat, having a quiet city break with his wife. More importantly - a diplomat incognito. A diplomat who wanted to blend in.
Hardly surprising, given the shenanigans he’s been up to.
The incessant chatter of tourists floated up from the narrow street below. He peered down, noting the oversized cameras, upside down maps and matching backpacks. His target was probably in a similar group, trekking through the Dorsoduro district in search of the quieter side of the city.
They all look the same.
A light bulb flicked on in his head. Why should he clamber around Venetian rooftops when he could stroll around the streets below?
I just have to make sure I don’t fall into a canal.
He slithered down the side of the building into a cramped court. An old woman washed the ground floor shutters of the building opposite. He ignored her quizzical look and set off in the direction of San Marco and its shops.
I’m sure I saw an H&M there yesterday.
He navigated the twisting labyrinth of alleyways and squares, pausing in a wide campo to buy a map and the novelty sunglasses favoured by tourists. The map was in the wrong language but that was fine. It would help him to build a character for himself. He folded it up and slid it into his back pocket. A new name popped into his head and he smiled.
I’ll be the Tourist Assassin.
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