Part two! Thanks for waiting. I hope you enjoy this!
Hercules sat next to John and Mr. Miller. Everyone leaned forward eagerly, evidently excited to hear about the mission. Matthew began.
"Well, the General told us about the plan. He said that we needed to get an idea of British forces and defenses. So we changed clothes to blend in with the civilians, see? And we posed as tailors, which wasn't too hard considering that's our profession." He chuckled. Matthew continued to recount the events of their mission, with Hercules chiming in wherever he could.
It had been a little nerve racking at first, especially when a redcoat had stopped them to ask a few questions. Apparently the British were on edge as of late. They'd been allowed to continue on, and had gone into a local tavern which was, of course, packed to the rafters with soldiers in red uniforms.
They had asked a few casual questions, trying to gain an idea of the army's positions and numbers, but still sound like they could be just ordinary civilians. Matthew had done most of the talking, as Hercules was still a little doubtful of his own ability to remain calm under the crossfire of questioning that they would be sure to receive whenever one spoke to a British soldier. Of course, it had been easier when the men were drunk, and the tailor discreetly kept the drinks coming. After that, it had been like water flowing from a jug. Positions, numbers, fortifications, and more came spilling out of the intoxicated mens' mouths. Almost too easy.
Yet, they had escaped back out of the city and made their way back to camp without being questioned or stopped by anyone. A stroke of good luck, perhaps. Hercules was pleased to see that Alexander, John, and Gilbert were listening with evident rapture on their faces at the thrilling story.
"Ah, Mr. Williams, Mr. Mulligan. Good work. This is valuable knowledge that we've gained, and it will be sure to help us in the upcoming battles." General Washington smiled at the group. Everyone jumped to their feet, saluting. "Sir!"
"Will you come with me now, Alexander? I require your assistance in a few matters, and it is getting rather late. I would like to conclude this before midnight."
"Yes, sir." Alex strode forward to stand at Washington's side, waving back at his friends. "Bye, guys. See you tomorrow?"
Gilbert nodded. "Tomorrow, mon ami." The tailor rose to his feet, stretching a bit. "Hercules, we ourselves should go off and try to get some rest. You never know what tomorrow will bring, and it would be best if we are well- rested. Goodnight, gentlemen." He inclined his head at the remaining members of their party.
He and the tailor ducked inside their tents, not speaking for a moment as they bustled around getting ready for bed. Hercules collapsed onto his cot, yawning. Matthew glanced over at him, looking serious, which was rather unlike him. He was usually very light- hearted and smiled frequently. Hercules sat up, looking at him curiously.
"I just wanted to say that you did very well today, Hercules. We are still alive, which is always good when you work in this line of business. And we have gathered some valuable information. So, all in all, I just want to say good work, and that you seem to have a very successful future ahead of you in espionage."
Speechless in the face of unexpected praise, Hercules could only nod his gratitude, still going over the compliments in his mind as they fell asleep.
Weeks passed. And then, almost out of nowhere, the battle began. The rumor has it had started with a single shot, in the streets, fired carelessly or on accident. No matter the cause, Washington's men found themselves plunged suddenly into a conflict with Howe's forces in New York City.
And this was how Hercules found himself crouched away from the action with his three friends, listening to the sounds of the battle and Alexander's worried mutterings.
"They're battering down the battery, check the damages…." he winced as more cannon fire bombarded the fortifications the rebels had constructed around the city. "We've got to stop them, and rob them of their advantages." Gilbert pointed at the cannons the British had set up in the distance. "Therein lies their advantage."
Alex's eyes lit up. Hercules felt a stirring of excitement and some worry. His friend had a plan, and it would either assist them greatly or get them all killed.
"Let's take a stand with the stamina God has granted us, Hamilton won't abandon ship!" Now he was practically vibrating with excitement. "LET'S STEAL THEIR CANNON!"
Well, Hercules hadn't been wrong.
Halfway to the object of their mission, Gilbert was beginning to think that they were a little underprepared. Alexander had explained their plan to capture the British weapons, and they had procured the necessary supplies, those supplies being guns, ammunition, and ropes. Now they were sneaking through the city, trying to avoid both sides of the conflict.
They had settled on a cannon that was rather separated from its fellows, and even on the best of days, the soldiers stationed at the other weapons would have lacked focus indeed if they were to notice the other disappearing. But now, smoke from fire billowed across the city, the sky was dark grey and the air hung heavy with ash. All of this was to their advantage, though it was rather difficult to breathe.
Everything was running smoothly, until they were spotted by one of the redcoats manning the cannon. He shouted to his fellows. "HEY! WE'VE GOT SOME-" he couldn't finish. Well, Gilbert thought, he couldn't exactly say they were soldiers, now could he? For they were definitely too young for that. But if he said boys, his comrades might be less willing to fire upon them. Gilbert decided to spare them that decision and took aim quickly.
The gun went off with a bang. Alexander, John, and Hercules followed suit, firing rapidly. The enemy went still.
Hurrying up to the cannon, Gilbert turned away from the bodies of the British soldiers, feeling guilt well up in his throat. Hercules swallowed and clapped a hand on his back. "I know, man. It doesn't feel right. But, well, it's a war." He looked away. John buried his head in Alexander's shoulder.
A moment of silence passed. Then the boys sprang back into action, wrapping ropes around the base of the cannon and the barrel. Gilbert hurried to the back with Alex, throwing themselves against it, causing the gun to roll forward slightly. John and Hercules tugged on the ropes. Between them, the heavy weapon moved slowly.
It was tough going. Rocks caught under the wheels, and they had to make sharp turns to avoid squadrons of British and rebel soldiers alike. The streets, filthy with trash, dirt, and ashes, caused pulling the cannon over them like tugging it through snow. The city was dark, no candles shone from the window of houses, the only light being the flickering flames from burning buildings. Gilbert growled and rammed his shoulder against the cannon again. Next to him, Alexander walked backward slowly as he dug his heels into the ground for traction.
He could hear John and Hercules panting as they hauled on the ropes. Finally, after what felt to be days of dragging the weapon, they arrived at the edge of camp. It, too, was dark. No fires blazed out from among the tents, no lights as the men wrote letters, or the aides answered correspondence. At least it was quiet, too. The camp was free of gunshots and the scream and shouts of the dying and wounded. Cresting the gentle rise, the boys paused to catch their breath.
John looked nearly buoyant. "We did it! We stole a cannon, and we didn't die. Except…" he suddenly looked nervous. "We kind of disobeyed the direct order to not go near the line of fire."
"Well, technically we didn't." Alexander objected. "We skirted around the firing." Gilbert couldn't contain a snicker. Alex could argue his way out of any situation. The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, and sleep suddenly seemed like a very good idea to him. "Let us return to our beds, and deal with the consequences of our actions later." The other three nodded. Without another word they turned and headed to their respective tents to catch what little sleep they could before morning light.
A bird's chirping woke Gilbert the next morning. Sunlight streamed through the gap in the tent flaps, accompanied by confused shouting. John Miller stuck his head inside the tent, looking dirty and tired, but very much alive. A flood of relief that Gilbert hadn't really anticipated swept over him. "Gil, you'd better come out here. There's something you need to see."
Gilbert quickly found Hercules, John, and Alex, and they stood together in a small huddle in the middle of the crowd of soldiers before the cannon they had stolen the previous night. General Washington came storming out into the space, bellowing, "What is the meaning of this?" before he caught sight of the cannon. "And where did this come from?"
One of his men spoke up quietly. "We- we don't know, sir. It just appeared, here, out of nowhere." A strange look came over Washington's face. "I see. Alexander Hamilton, come here this instant."
Alex slipped out of the crowd, taking his place by Washington's side. "Do you have any idea where this cannon came from, young man?" The General loomed over the boy, and Gilbert wanted to shout out that it hadn't just been him, that all four of them had taken part in it, but to do so would reveal their late- night expedition, so he kept his mouth shut. Glancing around, he saw realization begin to dawn on the faces of Henry Laurens and Mr. Miller, as well as Hercules' tailor.
"Well?" Washington prompted. Alex nudged the dirt with his boot. He swallowed, and took a breath, looking as he was trying to gather his courage. "Sir…"
"It wasn't just Alex." John blurted out, earning a sharp glare from his father. Alex though, gave him a grateful look, before starting again. "We….kind of accidentally stole a cannon from the British." He would not meet the General's eyes and toed the dirt some more.
Washington gave him an incredulous look. "How do you accidentally steal a cannon? Is this true?" He gave the other three a sharp look. Gilbert nodded quickly. Washington massaged his temples, looking exasperated. "You four are going to get yourselves killed. But…" He looked up now and Gilbert was surprised to see a small smile on his face. "Good job, boys. However, Alexander, we will still speak about your abysmal decision making, and I am sure that you will never attempt such a foolhardy stunt again, hmm?"
"Yes sir." Alex looked as relieved as Gilbert felt. Mr. Miller was giving him an exasperatedly fond glance, and Mr. Laurens was pinching the bridge of his nose. Matthew the tailor looked like he was trying not to laugh.
Here's part two! Hope you all enjoyed that. Please review and leave a suggestion for the next chapter! Yr. Obedient Svt. ~RedCoatsRedder
