the-secret-crusade-oliver-bowden

46
Limassol was much as he’d had left it, rife with Templar men and
soldiers, a resentful populace carrying on as normal, discontent on their
faces as they continued with their business.
Wasting no time, Altaïr located the new Resistance safe-house, a
disused warehouse, and entered it, determined to confront Alexander
with what he had learned in the conversation he’d overheard between
Bouchart and Shalim. But when he entered the building it was Alexander
who reacted to him.
‘Stay back, traitor. You have betrayed the Resistance and sold out our
cause. Have you been working with Bouchart all this time?’
Altaïr had been prepared for a confrontation with Alexander, perhaps
even to meet him in combat, but the sight of the Resistance man in such
a state calmed him, made him think that he had misinterpreted what he
had seen. All the same he stayed cautious.
‘I was about to ask the same of you, Alexander. I overheard Bouchart
mention your name. He delivered a package to you, did he not?’
With narrowed eyes, Alexander nodded. The furniture in the safehouse
was sparse but there was a low table nearby and on it the small
sack Altaïr had seen handed to Shalim by Bouchart in Kyrenia.
‘Yes,’ said Alexander, ‘the head of poor Barnabas in a burlap sack.’
Altaïr walked to it. He pulled the drawstring on the sack and the