Anna and Abe lay beneath the sun-streaked forest, nestling next to each other under a threadbare quilt. The only sounds surrounding them were the quiet whispers of lush green leaves shivering in the gentle breeze, the chatter of an occasional curious squirrel, and the ever-present whistle of a songbird.

They should already be heading back to the dingy little town, blackened by years' worth of lies and deceit committed by commoners such as themselves. Out here they could somehow break away from the ties that bound them to the village; out here they could forget that they, too, were flies caught in the intricate web of deception. But perhaps they were separated; indeed, who of the other townsfolk supported the Patriot cause? Who of the others fought the accursed lobsterbacks that claimed to "cleanse" the town of its "savage tendencies?" Indeed, who of the people married unhappily based on these ludicrous rules carried over on the Mayflower, choosing to merely exist for the rest of their days instead of to live? And for what? All to preserve a bit of status. As if this thought crossed both minds simultaneously, the two huddled even closer together. They could pretend just a little longer.

Suddenly, a faint rustling noise pierced the peaceful scene, causing all other sounds to fall silent. The two tensed, the man grabbing his trousers while the woman cocked her pistol. Each pair of eyes focused on the direction of the noise, each mind working tirelessly to form some sort of plan to ensure the escape of them both. The rustling sounded again, the unknown danger moving closer…

Caleb Brewster stepped out of the foliage, a playful smile just visible under his thick beard as he watched the two sigh in relief. "Oh, what've we got here?" he chastised with a twinkle in his eye. "In broad daylight, and in nothin' but yer bare skin, tew? Anna, I thought you had more decency!"

Try as she might, Anna could not contain the smile that insisted on breaking from her lips. Lowering the pistol, she replied in the same playful air, "Whatever put that notion in your head, Caleb? Surely you haven't forgotten the way I could keep up with you lads, playing at all your games when we were younger."

"Ay, it'll take a lifetime to forget how hard you used to toss a ball." As if remembering the sting, Caleb violently shook his right hand. Turning to Abe—who had wriggled from under the quilt and was now hastily cramming his legs into his trousers—the courier chided, "Ah, don't get dressed on my part, Woody; I'd hate to interrupt."

Abe acknowledged this remark with a look of annoyance. Having buttoned his trousers, he whipped fiercely around to glare at his friend and hissed, "What are you doing here? I haven't gotten anything new; in case you've forgotten, it's dangerous for you to be out in daylight!"

Caleb's playful smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a thin line. His eyebrows knit together over simmering brown orbs, and his ears turned a light shade of pink. "I'm bein' dangerous? What about you, Woody, takin' your lover in broad daylight and havin' yer way when both o' you could be missed?" He advanced toward Abe, shoving him hard in the chest and making the farmer stagger backward. "Did you ever think about that, Woodhull?"

Abe regained his balance and retaliated, grabbing Caleb's broad shoulders in an effort to drag him down. "This has got nothing to do with the mission—"

"It's got everything to do with the mission!" Caleb exploded, tackling Abe to the ground. "If you two were caught—" he growled in broken phrases, blocking Abe's punches, "there'd be no more—Culper Ring—no more—information coming to Washington! We'd all be—fed to the British army—all thanks to a careless bastard named Abraham—"

"Boys, stop it!" Anna's sharp scolding froze the two men where they were: Caleb with his fist in the air and Abe with his foot in his opponent's stomach. "Caleb," Anna continued, her voice now even and calm, "why did you risk coming here?"

The courier lowered his arm and slid into a sitting position, seeming to collapse within his long trench coat. "It's Ben," he said somberly, exchanging a worried glance between the three of them. "He's missing."

. . .

"You're saying that Ben is in York City seeking out another potential spy, and Washington simply let him go? The city's crawling with Loyalists that could recognize him, to say nothing of the King's Navy sitting like seagulls in the harbor!"

The three bumped along a country road just past noon, relieved they had made it out of Setauket unfollowed and unmolested. Abe had hastily told his family that he had received word from Cooke wanting him to pick up a load of vegetables from Oyster Bay (the "farmer" had been caught on the black market and was therefore unable to travel without suspicion) and was willing to pay him double what the crop was worth if gotten to the King's Army as soon as possible. Anna, happening to walk by as he was hitching up the wagon, heard Abe speaking of his journey and asked if she could join, wanting to "buy some supplies that the tavern needed." As they were cheaper in York City, she had no doubt Dejong would allow her to go. Hoping his father and wife would simply see this as an act of kindness and convenience, Abe and Anna had ridden off, picking Caleb up three miles from the last house in Setauket. It had been a hasty plan, but they hadn't had time to think of anything better.

"Not quite; Washington 'imself didn't know the exact location of Ben until yesterday; then he sent me out to find 'im." Caleb rubbed a hand through his beard as he answered Abe's question, wanting to make sure he communicated every detail correctly. Things had been slow at Washington's camp for ages; the men were all getting restless, but Ben most of all. Nearly a week ago Caleb woke to find him gone, nothing left but a note saying he would be back as soon as he could. Caleb immediately went to Nathaniel Sackett and questioned him until he was blue in the face, but the man had mastered the art of secret-keeping long ago and would not yield. It wasn't until yesterday evening that the truth came out.

Ben had travelled to York City in order to secure another desperately needed source, a task he insisted on doing alone and as soon as possible. He had gone to Sackett the night before he left, telling him that the trip should only take three days at most. "I told him it was a fool's errand," Sackett had said to Washington and Caleb as he explained, "But he wouldn't listen to reason. He was restless, and is a Patriot to the core, and would have gone even if I had talked circles around him. So I loaded him up with equipment, dressed him in civilian clothing, and made him promise to return in three days, no matter the circumstances. But, as you know, we haven't heard from the lad since last Wednesday."

The three bumped along in silence for a time, trying to process the story and to come up with a plan. Though foolish, Ben would've returned to camp if his mission failed, so the looming question remained: where did he go? And how would they find him?

"Ah, and there's one more thing," Caleb spoke shyly. "Neither Washington nor Sackett know you're here. I came to you on my own."

It was Anna who replied. "You did the right thing, Caleb. We know Ben better than anyone, and if he's still in York City—" she gulped, her breath catching, "—we'll find him."