Here comes a new chapter! I hope you didn't wait too long for me.

Two scenes were taken from the series in this chapter.

I'll update again next week, of course ;)

I hope you like this chapter. Please, tell me what you think about it. Don't forget to review :)

Sparks And Gunpowder

So this was the end. James had to admit that he had never imagined that he would die this way: shot by a man he didn't know, who was living two hundred years before his own birth. It was a weird thing to think about indeed. He was about to die two hundred years before being born. That's what he called irony.

The loud click of the firearm being armed pierced the motionless air, and through the night, it sounded like a shout.

James struggled to swallow back the lump in his throat. If one thing was for sure, he would not die begging for his life. It wasn't the behaviour expected from the kind of man he wanted to be. For sure, he had never been as reckless as his two friends, but he wasn't a coward. He didn't want to kill, nor to be killed, he was terrified right now, as he could see the Red Coat's finger slowly pressed harder against the trigger. But he would not grant Gage the joy of begging for his life. He would be brave, like he had always wanted to be. He had never been a hero, he knew he didn't have the strength in him to be. But if he couldn't live like a hero, at least, he would die like one.

He fought against the urge to look away from the soldier's eyes. He wanted this young man to look into his eyes as he pulled the trigger, as the boy was taking all traces of life away from his body. He wanted this boy to remember him, when he was an old man. James wanted him to remember this man he had shot in the woods at the breaking of dawn as he was guarding gunpowder, this man from the future with big blue eyes who had not protested nor flinched as he was shooting him right in the chest. James wanted him to remember the expression on his face. At least, one person in this world would remember James Williamson.

The finger of this young man was pressed a bit harder against the trigger.

James kept staring at the boy. Because it was a boy, it was just a scared, terrified young boy, who was merely following orders. He couldn't be more than nineteen years old. James could have almost call him a son. It was one of the regrets of his life, he realized, not having had children. He was thirty-six now, and he had never been married, he had never had children, he had never loved...

No, it wasn't true. He had loved. He had loved this blond woman who was serving Gage's wife at the second he had laid eyes on her. He hadn't told her how he felt though. He had never hold her hand, nor kissed her wonderfully red lips, nor ran a hand through her golden hair, nor woke up in the morning to find her by his side. He wished he could have more time on this earth. If he had then... then he knew perfectly what he would do.

He would marry Mary Broadwood.

He could already see Michael and Sarah standing next to him, and everyone gathered before the barn at Barrett's farm, and wild flowers in her hair, and idiotic smile on their faces. And Warren would cry, for sure, and Sam would faint to be worried about everything, though James knew perfectly he would be happy for the two of them, and Hancock would buy them wonderful clothes and would come in his most richly decorated garments, and Revere and Kelly would drink too much, and...

There was a loud explosion a few meters away, as the powder gathered in the clearing was exploding.

And almost at the same moment, a detonation pierced the night...

Forty hours earlier

"Mr. Franklin!"

The elder man let out a happy laugh as the French scientist was hurrying out of the barn to hold him in a tight hug.

"I'm so glad to see you!" she cried, laughing merrily.

"I'm more than glad to see you as well, Sarah," he said, picking up his bag and walking with her towards the house.

"How long are you staying?"

"Not long I'm afraid. I'm more helpful in Philadelphia anyway. But I had to see you all, it is quite lonely down there. Of course, I have friends in Philadelphia as well, but it's not the same. I'm having much more fun with you all!"

They both laughed merrily, walking through the grass, their boots still drenched with mud after the heavy rains of the night. In the morning light, fog was blurring the shapes of trees and bushes in the distance.

When they entered the house, they found themselves caught in a raging argument between Sam and Michael.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Michael roared. "How could you think for just a second..."

"We cannot take this risk," Sam coldly replied, his firm tone leaving no chance for Michael to convince him.

"I can't believe you want to leave us all behind!"

"Michael, I will not take this risk."

"What's going on?" Franklin asked Warren, Kelly, Hancock and Revere, who were watching the scene from the threshold of the living room.

"It's good to see you, Dr. Franklin," they all welcomed the elder man.

"It is pleasure to see you all as well, but what is happening?"

"Sam doesn't want the scientists to help us to steal some gunpowder to Gage and his men."

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I thought we had come to an agreement," she complained.

"Sam seems to have changed his mind," Warren shrugged.

She heaved a sigh, walking towards the two men who were still arguing, and she sat at the table.

"Sam, what is it this time?" she asked, clearly annoyed.

He winced at the sound of her tone.

"Michael wants to come with us to the Red Coats' camp."

"We have never said that we would have to wait next to the cart with Hancock," Michael replied.

"Actually, Michael, we have," Sarah replied.

"No, we haven't. We have agreed that you would stay with Hancock..."

She glowered at him, and he instantly fell silent, knowing that the storm that was brewing in her eyes was about to be unleashed upon him, and he would not like it at all.

"So... I'm a woman and I'm good at nothing?" she snapped.

Michael rolled his eyes.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"We can't take the risk of you being captured," Sam told him. "You shouldn't be coming at all actually..."

"We're not going back there, Sam," Sarah interrupted him.

"We should," he answered.

"We will not be left behind. But you're right on the point that it would be disastrous if we were made prisoners by Gage. Then, you would have no help at all from us whatsoever. And it would be too much of a disadvantage."

"I'm not going to remain idle there when others are taking risks," Michael stated.

"We're not going to be idle, Michael, we'll be at the end of the line," she tried to calm him down.

"Yeah, waiting like a bunch of cowards to run away as fast as we can."

"Don't say things like that. You know it's not true."

Michael heaved a frustrated sigh.

"I'm tired of being stuck here," he confessed.

"I know, I'm tired of this too."

Michael heaved a sigh again, standing up.

"I'll go check your last calculations about the nitro-glycerine."

She nodded, and Michael walked out of the house.

"It's good to see you, Dr. Franklin," Sam welcomed the elder man, shaking hands.

"I can see that the situation is quite tensed here," Franklin said.

"He will calm down. What about the explosives by the way?" Sam added, turning his attention upon Sarah.

"We should be ready to start to synthesize nitro-glycerine next week."

"Good."

"Why it is so tensed between you and Michael?" Franklin insisted.

Sam heaved a sigh, but remained silent.

"Michael wants to fight, he wants to be on the front line," Sarah answered.

"And it's not going to happen," Sam replied.

"He's feeling like he's being left behind, and he's not the only one."

Sam stared intensely at Sarah.

"I thought you understood..."

"I do understand your argument, that we cannot take the risk to be taken prisoners. And you're right, it's a good argument."

She stood up.

"But there's something else on your mind. And Michael seems to have felt it too. You're not completely honest with us right now, Sam. Gage is not the only reason you don't want us to fight. But you won't tell us the truth."

Sam merely stared silently at her.

"And I have to admit," she went on. "That it is very annoying."

She strode out of the room, leaving the Colonists alone in the room.

Franklin turned towards Sam, looking cautiously at him as he was finally sitting down next to him.

"I guess you and Sarah should talk, Mr. Adams," he said.

"We have already talked," Sam defensively replied.

"Not about the important things, clearly."

Sam kept his eyes fixed on the door, where Sarah had just disappeared.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he breathed.

Franklin heaved a sigh.

"As you wish, Mr. Adams. But if I may give you the advice of a man who has already lived many years on this earth... We have very little time, Sam."

Sam finally looked at Franklin.

"And it would be a shame," Franklin went on, "that you would miss your chance to tell Sarah how you feel."

Sam narrowed his eyes, but Franklin merely shook his head, amused.

"Don't look at me with such an outraged expression," he told the younger man. "I don't reckon it is a secret for anyone here that you have feelings for Sarah. Except for Sarah herself, of course. And who could blame you? Except Michael, of course."

Sam stared at Franklin, his jaws clenched.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said through gritted teeth, though his tone was soft.

Sam stood up, and headed for his bedroom.

Indeed, how could Franklin know how torn apart he felt? He wasn't the one who kept on dreaming about her dying every night...

The shadows around them were too deep for them to see more than a few meters before them. It was a bad idea. The closer they came to the clearing, the more Sarah was thinking that they should have never had come there. It was too dangerous, it was crazy, and reckless... The cart finally came to a stop. Sam helped her to get down, and he kept her hand in his once she was back on the ground.

"Be careful," she whispered, staring at his dark eyes, barely visible in the darkness of the night.

He gave her a reassuring smile.

"I'll be just fine," he answered, whispering as well. "You stay here, and if things go ill..."

"I take Hancock, and run away," she finished for him.

He nodded, unable to tear his gaze from her infinite blue eyes.

"Don't wait for us," he insisted.

"I know, Sam."

She kissed his cheek.

"Good luck."

He smiled, before walking away through the trees, guiding his men towards the Red Coats' camp.

And Sarah had a terrible feeling about this.

Four Red Coats. There were four Red Coats turning around the building where the gunpowder was stored. Sam took a deep breath, looking at the soldier who was walking his way. He had blown up the lantern next to the shed behind which he was hiding, and now, Sam merely had to wait for the Red Coat to come closer, to knock him out, and to take his place as a sentry. He took a deep breath, a wry smile on his lips.

It was easier said than done, clearly...

Sam took a look at the watchtower above him. There was a Red Coat up there, watching his fellow companion walking towards the lantern. Sam took another deep breath.

Perhaps it wasn't a good idea after all...

The soldier had almost reached the lantern. Sam knocked softly upon the wooden wall to get the soldier's attention. And indeed, the Red Coat started to walk towards the shed, pointing his rifle towards the source of the noise.

Before he could see him, Sam had jumped out of the shadows and knocked him out. He picked up the rifle and the soldier's hat.

"Everything alright?" the soldier from the watchtower called.

Sam walked away from the shed, keeping his face hidden, just in case the soldier could recognize that he wasn't his comrade, and reassured the guard with a quick gesture of the hand, before lighting up the lantern again. He couldn't refrain a sigh as he was taking his place in the circle that the sentries were tracing around the gunpowder storage.

For now, all was fine.

He saw Kelly running towards the building as he was passing before the forest, and the Irishman hid against the wall. As Sam was turning around the corner again, Kelly knocked out the Red Coat who was following him.

Sam refrained his urge to sweep away the drops of sweat that were rolling down his brow and his temples, the salty liquid stinging his eyes and making him blink. But he was too afraid to draw attention upon him. After all, it was quite cold, he wasn't supposed to be sweating.

Once he was back behind the building, facing the forest again, Kelly had already knocked out the two other sentries, and his men were now walking around the storage as well. Revere and Kelly were already breaking into the building, a smile on their faces. Sam hurried up towards them, taking a look insight. He nodded, whilst his two friends were smirking. He silently told them to go on, and resumed his walk around the building. He could hear the hurrying footsteps of men coming out of the forest to help Kelly and Paul. Sam took a cautious look at the watchtower again, but the sentry wasn't looking at them at all. Sam couldn't refrain a sigh of relief.

Perhaps they did have a chance...

Dawn was setting fire to the sky. Lazy clouds were drifting in the golden sky, red sparks alit on their surface by the rising sun. It had been hours ago now that they had started to empty the storage, and there was still many barrels of gunpowder inside. But as Sam noticed the Red Coats walking towards them, he knew they had no time left. The soldiers were coming to take their place as sentries. They had to go, and they had to go now...

He hurried towards Kelly and Revere, who were still carrying barrels.

"Boys, we've got to go. Now," he whispered to his friends.

The two men nodded, and soon, Revere was emptying a barrel inside the room whilst the others were running towards the woods. Sam waited for his men to have reached the forest, his heart pounding in his heart.

And then the alarm rang.

Sarah jumped, hearing footsteps hurrying towards them. She held her breath. Next to her, Michael had taken his pistol. James took a step closer to his friends as well.

"Get ready to go," Sarah told her friends.

They all climbed in the cart, except for Sarah.

"We have to go," Hancock urged her.

She shook her head, looking frantically around her. But there was no one coming beyond the trees, or down the slope next to the road, nor anywhere she could see.

"They'll come back."

She jumped again, hearing hurrying footsteps behind her. The next second, a Red Coat was grabbing her wrist.

James jumped down the cart, and pushed him away from Sarah, rolling down the slope, and disappearing behind bushes.

"James!" she called.

She turned around and grabbed a pistol in the cart. But before she could hurry to rescue James, a hand was holding tenderly her wrist.

She looked up, meeting Sam's dark eyes.

"James..." she breathed, but he shushed her with a nod.

"I'll take care of this, you, you get in this cart, and you go away from here, before the entire garrison falls upon us."

"But..."

Before she could protest, Sam had disappeared down the slope as well, and Amos and Kelly were dragging her into the cart.

"We have to go, Sarah. And we have to go now," Amos told her.

Michael held her by the arms to prevent her from jumping down the cart again.

"We can't leave them here," she protested.

But behind them, the powder they couldn't steal exploded, and almost simultaneously, a detonation echoed through the woods.

Hancock forced the horses to walk forward.

"No, John!" Sarah ordered, tears blurring her vision. "We can't leave them here..."

"They're coming!" Michael cried.

And indeed, only a few meters away, James and Sam were climbing up the slope, reaching the road again.

"John, you must wait for them."

Hancock heaved a sigh, but stopped the horses anyway.

They could hear the Red Coats shouting through the woods, coming closer and closer.

"Go! Go! Go now!" Sam cried.

Hancock obeyed, and the two men ran after the cart as it advanced through the trees.

"Your hand James!" Michael ordered, helping his friend to get into the cart.

Kelly offered his open palm to Sam.

"Samuel, move your arse!" the Irishman ordered.

Seconds later, Sam was safely sitting in the cart as well, and Hancock was pushing the horses forward, making them run as fast as they could.

The moment he was sitting in the cart, Sam found two arms wrapped around his neck.

"My God, Sam... You scared me so much," Sarah whispered, pressing him against her.

He held her close to him.

"I'm fine. We're all fine, Sarah."

General Thomas Gage was infuriated. He wasn't known to be a very patient man, but now, he was in a rage that even his Major had not often seen him into. He was silently guiding his horse back and forth before the line of the aligned soldiers and officers, glowering at them. Pitcairn could see that, from time to time, Gage's glance drifted towards the burnt ruins of what had been their reserve of powder. Gage's lip twitched.

"Two hundred barrels of gunpowder," he said slowly, his voice shaking with anger. "Gone, in our enemy's hands. Tell me... How is it that a full company of His Majesty's marines were outsmarted by a bunch of snivelling Yankee shits?!"

Pitcairn struggled to swallow.

"It is simply inexcusable, Sir," he said. "I assure you proper punishment..."

"You will find Samuel Adams and John Hancock, along with the three scientists, before this week is out," Gage interrupted him.

He threw his Major one last hateful look, before walking away.

"Yes, Sir," Pitcairn breathed.

He couldn't see how he could find them. Not on his own, at least.

It was time for him to ask for the help of men who knew much more about the future than he did.

Franklin hurried towards his friends, worry badly hidden upon his face.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked.

John Adams was soon by his side, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of his cousin.

"It was very stupid, and reckless," he admonished.

Sam smiled.

"I'm happy to see you as well, John."

But his cousin was too relieved to mind his jokes, and he patted his cousin's shoulder.

"You shouldn't have done that. Gage will not like it..."

"We need gunpowder if we want to stand a chance against Gage," Sam replied.

"Let's not talk about strategy and all these unpleasant things any longer," Franklin interrupted them. "For now, we have ammunitions, and we are all safe. I reckon it deserves some celebration."

"Indeed, you should listen to him," Sarah told the two cousins. "Dr. Franklin speaks wisdom, as always."

They laughed, walking towards the barn where the barrels were being transported. James touched Sam's shoulder, making him turn his attention towards him.

"Sam... about what happened in the forest..."

But Sam shook his head.

"It was nothing, James."

"You killed someone," James replied. "You killed someone to save my life. I reckon it is something."

James offered him his open hand.

"Thank you," he told the Colonist. "I hope I'll have the chance to pay back my debt."

Sam shook his hand, nodding silently, and then they followed their friends into the barn to celebrate their victory. Sam looked up at the sky, enjoying the feeling of the sun upon his skin.

After all, at least for that day, life was good.

It was already late when Sam saw Sarah walking out of the barn. He couldn't help but follow her outside. He didn't know if she wanted company, perhaps he should have remained in the barn. But he was drawn to her by a force he couldn't explain by words, an invisible force that continually seemed to bind him to her. He didn't know what it was, but it was strong enough to prevent his brain from thinking.

He didn't know what this feeling was, or perhaps he just didn't want to admit to himself what it was, it didn't really mattered. In the end, it led to the same result. He was still following her out of the barn, and under a great oak.

"I thought you were enjoying the party," she told him, turning around to face him.

"I was," he answered. "I was merely curious to know where you were going."

"I just needed a bit of fresh air."

He slowly nodded.

"Would you prefer to be left alone?" he asked her, his voice hesitant.

She reassuringly smiled at him.

"No, Sam. I don't want to be left alone."

They exchanged a smile, before sitting down under the cover of the tree.

"How is your work going on?" he asked her softly, speaking the first question that crossed his mind.

"We're on schedule. We'll soon be done. Don't worry about this."

He nodded.

"Franklin says he's trying to keep contact with the men who came at the last debate. He's also trying to convince more people to support us," Sam said, but his voice sounded sceptical.

"It's important, Sam. We can't do this on our own," Sarah told him.

"I know."

She stared at him for a while, silently examining his weary expression.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

He looked at her.

"What's troubling you so much? You look exhausted," she added.

He heaved a sigh, shrugging. His heart was painful under his ribs. He couldn't tell her the truth...

"I'm fine."

"You're lying," she answered, annoyed.

But there was more than annoyance in her tone. There was pain as well. Sam sighed again.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked.

"The truth would be a good start."

"I can't tell you the truth, Sarah."

"You don't trust me?"

He shook his head.

"I just can't."

"Is it because of your nightmares again?" she insisted.

"Partly," he confessed.

He could never remain silent when she forced him to speak the truth like this. One of the numerous powers she had on him, without a doubt...

"Is it your wife again?" she asked softly.

He cleared his throat.

"Not really," he elusively answered.

"What is it then? What do you see in your dreams?"

But he didn't answer, and she heaved a frustrated sigh.

"Why do you never talk to me?"

"That's not true, I do talk to you," he defended himself.

"About plans, and strategy, and ammunitions, yes... but not about yourself."

She shrugged.

"I'm just trying to help."

He stared at her, his intense glance forcing her to stare at him as well.

"I know you want to help. But I don't think you can," he breathed.

"Tell me. What do you see in your dreams?"

He clenched his jaws.

"I see you dying."

She stared at him, too shocked to answer.

"It always ends the same way," he told her. "I'm always too late. You always die, and I can never..."

He stared at her blue eyes, and he couldn't control the words that were passing his lips.

"I can never tell you the truth."

"The truth about what?" she asked.

"Many things. Why I'm always so annoying at protecting you, why I don't want you to take risks, why I don't want you to leave this world..."

"And why are you doing all this?"

He closed his eyes, lowering his head. He couldn't tell her. He had tried, but he couldn't...

"Another day, I'll tell you, maybe..."

He stood up, and walked towards the house. He turned towards the barn as he felt a stare set upon him.

And the disapproving look Michael sent him told Sam that he had been right to bite his tongue.

When Yuri saw the Major walking into the room, he knew he was in trouble. He knew Pitcairn was about to ask him to do something he would not like at all. He forced a smile upon his lips anyway.

"Major, what can I do for you?" he asked Pitcairn.

The officer sat down at the table opposite Yuri.

"I've heard General Gage is quite angry against you these days. I've heard he doesn't let you leave the house anymore," Pitcairn said.

"Indeed. Since we've discovered what had been stolen..."

"He doesn't trust you anymore," Pitcairn finished for him.

Yuri nodded, his fists clenched.

"Well, I am here to offer you an opportunity," Pitcairn went on. "A chance to find back the General's trust."

Yuri narrowed his eyes.

"And what could that be, Major?"

A small smile appeared on the Marine's face.

"You're going to help me to find Samuel Adams, John Hancock and your former colleagues."

Yuri stared carefully at the soldier.

"And why would I accept to help you to find my colleagues?"

"Because they are traitors. They have betrayed you, and because of them, General Gage doesn't trust you anymore. And we both know how violent he can be in his wrath."

Yuri flinched.

"Don't you want your revenge?" Pitcairn asked.

Yuri stared at him again, a merciless glint burning in his eyes.

After all, Pitcairn was right, she had betrayed him...

"Indeed, I would love revenge."