Monroe sat at the oak desk, scribbling orders to Captain Norris regarding the new priority item. The general had enclosed one of the many sketches Rachel had provided him with. Monroe concluded the note emphasizing the importance of discretion while his unit searched for the necklaces. The last thing he needed was for the rebels or spies from the neighboring territories to realize what he was up to. He'd written similar letters to Captains Murphy, Shaw, and McGregor, all men he felt could be relied on.

After signing the paper, Monroe finally acknowledged the man who had been standing at attention in his presence for the past three minutes. Captain Neville's face was carefully impassive, as it always was, but the slightest sheen of perspiration glittered on his brow. Neville had correctly assumed he had not been summoned for a commendation.

"Report." Approximately one year ago Monroe had sent Neville to retrieve Ben and Miles. He'd chosen Tom over his captains, because he was the most relentless and methodical. Despite the captain's history of obtaining results, he'd achieved none of his mission's objectives.

"Sir, my unit departed several months ago to capture Ben and Miles Matheson and escort them both to Philadelphia."

"So where are they?" Captain Neville paused, momentarily disconcerted by Monroe's question.

"Sir?" Neville was undoubtedly wondering why Monroe was asking a question he already knew the answer to. The truth was Monroe wanted to hear how exactly Neville would explain his monumental failures.

"I ordered you not to return to Philadelphia until you had both men in custody, and yet I don't see either of them in your company. Care to enlighten me as to why? "

"As I mentioned in prior communications, there was a complication in the apprehension of Ben Matheson. He died." Monroe fingers tightened around the pen he'd been holding. The captain shifted uneasily in his boots.

"How exactly did he die, Captain, when you had specific orders to bring him to me alive?" Monroe's voice had taken on its dangerously quiet tone. Neville stiffed, straightening his spine a degree further than it had been.

"We were met with resistance." Ben Matheson had been a pacifist both before and after The Blackout. He'd been one of the last of a rare breed.

"Ben Matheson was not the type of man to offer 'resistance'." Monroe pictured Ben Matheson as he'd last seen him, kneeing beside his children's sleeping bags, his soft voice lulling them to sleep. His feelings toward Ben had been…complicated for over twenty years, but he had never wanted the man dead. Ben had been a lynchpin in Monroe's life, even during the years he'd been physically absent. Now that he was gone things were messier than they'd ever been. So many things that Monroe had envisioned for the future were now impossible.

"No, sir, he was not, however his son is. Danny Matheson drew his crossbow and demanded we leave his father alone. One of my men drew in response. Ben Matheson stepped between them. Some the villagers elected to enter the skirmish. Shots were exchanged. Ben Matheson perished along with three other villagers and a Private. We arrested Danny Matheson and began our return with all deliberate speed." Danny Matheson, an unforeseen complication. Clearly Rachel's genes had exerted their influence.

"And Miles?" Unlike Ben, Monroe had never deluded himself that Miles would allow himself to be taken quietly.

"About a mile outside the village I ordered a lieutenant to linger in the surrounding area, in case the locals planned on mounting a rescue attempt. They'd shown more fight than I'd initially anticipated and I didn't wish to be taken off guard. The lieutenant quickly reported back that three villagers had set off less than an hour after our departure; two women and a man. They did not appear to be tracking our unit, but instead headed off toward Chicago. I sent the scout to infiltrate the group, on a hunch they would led him to Miles Matheson. My instructions were that he inform the local garrison as soon as he clapped eyes on the fugitive. We have since reconnected with the scout and he reported that Matheson cut the soldiers to ribbons and he was the only survivor." Yes, that sounded like Miles. Clearly the years in hiding hadn't dulled his fighting edge.

"How was your spy not recognized by the villagers?" Monroe elected to focus on the details of the operation, rather than dwell on how Miles could change so much that killing scores of his own men meant nothing to him.

"Civilians tend to focus on our guns and uniforms, not out faces and I deliberately choose, Lieutenant Neville, the youngest member of my platoon."

"I seem to remember reading several positive reports regarding the corporal. His training officers all felt he has great potential." Monroe had initially been reluctant to assign soldiers to regiments where a relative was their commanding officer, but by all accounts Neville was harsher on his flesh and blood than he was on any other soldier under his command.

"Every father is proud to hear praise of his son." Monroe sensed there was more the Captain wished to add.

"But?"

"He may have been promoted prematurely. Despite my best efforts, he lacks the necessary degree of discipline."

"Elaborate."

"The group that I mentioned earlier successfully recruited Miles Matheson and caught up with our unit at the train depot. Lieutenant Neville, who had been their prisoner for multiple days, escaped and rejoined us.

Miles and one of the villagers boarded the moving and tried to free the prisoner. The lieutenant was instrumental in thwarting their attempt, but directly following the fight he disobeyed one of my orders." Defiance of a superior officer carried harsh penalties in the Militia. There had to be a highly compelling reason for a promising young soldier like Lieutenant Neville to ignore a command.

"What was the order?" What would make a man go against his father, his training, and his own self-interest?

"Lieutenant Neville had restrained the prisoner's sister. I told him to bring her to me. Instead he threw her from the train." Suddenly the pieces fell into place. Charlie Matheson. Of course she was involved. How old would she be now? Twenty? No longer a child, but young woman.

"Was she injured?" The question escaped Monroe's lips before he'd consciously made the decision to ask it.

"No, I don't believe so, which I imagine was the point." Monroe was vaguely aware of the underlying testiness in the Captain's tone, but understood it was directed at his son, not his general. The general may have been tempted to see it adjusted regardless, but he was too distracted to make the effort.

The insignificant band pursuing Danny Matheson was no longer so insignificant, not if it contained Miles and Charlie Matheson. He needed to make a plan to deal with this new wrinkle. First however, he needed to get rid of Captain Neville.

"Regarding your failure to retrieve Ben Matheson, I am inclined to be lenient. Your prisoner has already provided me with useful intelligence, and I appreciate the loyalty you've shown me at the expense of your son. You will await further instruction regarding Miles Matheson. Send in Lieutenant Neville. I'd like to personally debrief him before assigning appropriate disciplinary action. Dismissed."