The rooftop was peaceful, but Ezio's mind was a matrix of interwoven thoughts, perceptions, and intuitions.  He understood well, both his mission and the art to carry it out; a master of both mind and body.  Ezio was as disciplined as the best trained soldier for his time, and as calculating as the wisest Prince's of his age.  Although he was but a simple associate for his family, Ezio understood that the trail of blood he would leave in his wake would carve a new path towards infamy and perhaps a higher standing in society.   Unlike his predecessors however, Ezio knew that a white cloak could not shadow him in a world rife with a mesh of both black and white; their collision a cascade of infinite gray.  Instead, Ezio had become accustomed to trench-coats, fedoras, and the occasional bullet-proof vest, all of which were overshadowed by his black cloak, a token of honor and life-passage handed down from his uncle to he, years ago.  Ezio understood that the color white was utilized in some of mankind's greatest hypocrisies - the Roman Emperors and Senate, the Catholic Church, The Knights Templar, the KKK, and now finally - the Dons of the Mafia.  Virtue, honor, and unwavering fidelity were long-absent in many of these ancient cultures and organizations - now unified under one banner of modern criminality.  Yet, subdued by the irony that he was now a part of this society, Ezio understood that once again blood would be spilled in the name of greater good.  He was an assassin, and could not escape fate - one which he knew he would never fully understand the true purpose of...

The rooftop was peaceful, but Ezio's presence commanded a deeper placidity.  He clenched his blade in his right hand; his mission notice in his left.  It read:

11PM at the place of unrest.  Rooftop access positive.  Target presence confirmed.  Authorization granted.  Extricate the unworthy, save the peace.  Godspeed.

Every mission notice Ezio had ever received listed a series of intricately coded designs to ensure total anonymity and secrecy.  The note he held in his hand was the final decoded version that had taken him over an hour to decrypt.  "The place of unrest" was always the mission location that had been previously given to him along with the target information, but worded this way in the final message to prevent all the pieces of the puzzle from being on a single paper.  Ezio's ancient order understood the importance of secrecy in a time where the barriers to communication were as destructible or movable as any other man made wall.  "Save the peace" was their way of communicating to Ezio that a blade and not a gun, would be preferable to eliminate the target with the intention of preventing a more chaotic situation.  All of these understandings were all but instinct to Ezio by this point.

The rooftop was peaceful, but the time for purification had come.  Ezio, lost deep in his thoughts had now closed the roof access from which he had climbed.  Straight ahead of him was a man not of a rival La Cosa Nostra family, but one who had risen the ranks of what was believed to be "respectable society"; a judge of the district court.  His name was of no consequence to Ezio, for it was the evil deeds this man had done with his power that brought upon the call for his death.  The judge had used his powers over the years to coerce troubled teenage girls into slavery for the narcotics street gangs all for the price of 1 million annually; and his soul.  Ezio was not sure if he was an instrument of God, or the mere auspices of his own family and order, but he understood that regardless, the man before him deserved execution and final judgment by his fellow man.  The rest as they say, would be left for God to figure out.

The rooftop remained peaceful as Ezio carefully crouched and began moving towards the judge who was calling down to some hoodlums and thugs in the back alley below.  His rambling was barely tangible to Ezio, but he heard the judge giving orders for the transportation of what he called, "the goods" to a new location.  Although Ezio understood his orders did not include saving women immediately in danger, he knew that by killing this man this would eliminate the legal protection of those with equally stained hands.  And so, he quietly crept up behind the judge, and made his move...

Swiftly and viciously, Ezio forced the judge to the ground with his left hand over the mans mouth, and the right hand clenching the blade to the man's throat.  He whispered in his ear:

You used your power as both judge and judgment to protect evil, while simultaneously spilling the blood of the innocent.  God may judge nor pass judgment upon you in this life, but I am no God.  Now, like the girls whose screams and cries of terror will never be heard, your pain will be as silent as the night...

With a quick slash, Ezio had severed the judge's trachea and other tissue that would have allowed the man to breath.  Even the gurgles of blood could not be heard as the man slowly passed away, choking on his own pain.  Ezio felt a deep sense of remorse for taking another life, especially with the hope that one day, he may be in God's good graces once more.  However, he knew that at least he did not take lives in the name of God.  While Ezio may not be the most holy of men, at least he was no hypocrite.  After wiping his blade with a handkerchief, Ezio made his way back to the roof access, down into the street and the deep, dark abyss of night.

Perhaps even without permission, he thought there may be a chance to track the rest of the street gangs movements, and locate the hideout where they keep the girls.  After all, Ezio pondered, maybe there was some redemption among men if not among the infinite justice of God...