Jacob surveyed the area and saw a politician speaking to a minister.
- Politician 1: What's this nonsense about needing a password to see Lord Cardigan today?
- Hacker: Relax. I've got it in my pocket.
A corrupt policeman directed his men.
- Policeman: Look sharp, men. Allow no one past unless I authorize them.
Politicians opposing Cardigan spoke inside Westminster Hall.
- Politician 2: Cardigan has gone too far this time! I've a mind to contact Scotland Yard myself.
Meanwhile, Cardigan spoke with his fellow politicians.
- Cardigan: Come now, gentlemen, I'd thought us united in opposition against this perfidious law.
Jacob stole the password from the minister.
- Jacob: "Balaclava". Of course it bloody is.
Jacob grabbed the policeman from behind.
- Jacob: I just need to get inside. No need for this to get messy.
- Policeman: All right, all right! Just don't hurt me!
With the policeman in his grip, Jacob was able to walk into Westminster Hall and speak to the politician opposing Cardigan.
- Jacob: Pardon me, gentlemen, Sergeant Freddy Abberline of Scotland Yard. Where might this scandalous activity be taking place?
- Politician 2: Hm? Oh, yes, yes. It's, ah, just this way. Follow me, Sergeant. But discreetly, if you would. One doesn't like to be seen airing a fellow member of Parliament's dirty linen, wot?
Jacob followed the politician to Cardigan's office.
- Jacob: I'll be very discreet.
Usually, I would be in disguise, but my clothes all fell into the Thames.
One of my favorite disguises is a very ancient old lady, modelled after my mother.
You'd be surprised how convincing I am.
A tough old bird she was. Actually had a facial hair problem. We'd sell the hair for dolls.
Please let me know if I am speaking too much. I am prone to flights of fancy.
They arrived at the office, where the politician knocked on the door.
- Templar: Password?
- Politician 2: I beg your pardon?
- Templar: No password, no passage.
- Politician 2: Do you know who I am? I'm a member of Parliament, you cretin!
- Templar: No password, no passage, sir.
Jacob knocked on the door.
- Templar: Password?
- Jacob: Balaclava.
The door was opened.
- Templar: Come in.
As Jacob entered, he quickly killed the Templar with his Hidden Blade and closed the door behind him. In the meantime, Cardigan had his back turned.
- Cardigan: Ah, Minister Hacker. One moment. Dashed paperwork will be the death of us, wot? Give me a stout horse and a sabre and I'd have this government running as smoothly as Henley Regatta, hm. But needs must and all that. Let's see... sign here... initial... initial... and... done!
Cardigan turned around.
- Cardigan: Now, then. Let's discuss this like gen- good God! Who the bloody he-
- Jacob: Oh, shut up.
Jacob slashed Cardigan's throat with his Hidden Blades.
- Cardigan: Coward! Villain! Alas, that the hero of Balaclava should fall not on the gloried fields of Crimea, but to an Assassin's blade in the very halls of power!
- Jacob: Are you finished yet?
- Cardigan: Take your bow, knave, for you have managed what no Russian battery, what no Indian tiger could achieve! Claim your trophy, and may you choke on it!
- Jacob: Yes, but do tell me more about Balaclava.
- Cardigan: Farewell! Farewell, dear Britannia! Your dawn shall be dimmer that the Earl of Cardigan sees it not!
Jacob rolled his eyes.
- Jacob: What a prick...
Jacob smeared his handkerchief with Cardigan's blood and escaped the Palace of Westminster.
Jacob assassinated the Earl of Cardigan, severely diminishing Starrick's influence in politics.