Caleb's rain-soaked shirt, cold as the mid-December spray of the Long Island Sound, clings to his equally cold skin. His body trembles as he trudges towards the Ford Mansion. With a shaking hand he pulls his leather duster tight. The closer he gets to the mansion, the faster his heart starts to beat. His mind starts to race. Everyone but Washington and Sackett have to think Ben is still missing. It's the only way to keep him safe...remember, you're sad, not mad. Sad Brewster! You can't screw this up! His boots reach the foot of the steps. He inhales a ragged breath before lifting his eyes to meet the gaze of the two men standing guard at the top of the stairs. Showtime.

"Did you find him?" the younger of the two Life Guards asks.

Caleb drops his chin. He shakes his head no. "I need to speak with the Commander."

Pity wells in the eyes of the Life Guard, blossoming in every feature of the young man's face. His lips press together as the skin around his eyes draws tight. He nods at his partner, who turns on his heel and enters the Mansion. The guard turns back to Caleb. "I'm sorry Lieutenant."

Caleb blows out the breath he'd been holding. "Yeah, well…"

The Mansion door cracks open and the second Life Guard reappears. "The Commander will see you Lieutenant," he announces.

Caleb nods at his young companion and climbs the steps. A blast of heat welcomes him as he enters the foyer. In the dining room turned command center, a group of officers argue over a spread of maps and dispatches. They fall silent when they notice Caleb's presence. The look on their faces tells Caleb they've already heard the news. One of them steps forward. Caleb thinks his name is Hamilton but he isn't certain, it's too hard to keep all of Ben's command friends straight. He rests a hand on Caleb's shoulder.

"Don't worry," he says, "we'll find him." The sorrowful look in his eyes says otherwise.

A tiny pang of guilt rises in Caleb's chest. Hamilton is clearly worried and for that Caleb feels terrible, knowing the amount of distress the man must be feeling on account of his lie. Caleb ducks his head. Before he can reply, Hamilton guides him back in the direction he came. Caleb's boots make squishing noise as they cross the foyer. In the sitting room and Hamilton gestures towards a set of French Chairs positioned before a roaring hearth. "Please, have a seat."

Caleb does as he's told, doing his best to look mournful as he stares into the dancing flames. As seconds stretch into minutes, his facade starts to slip. He thrums ice cold fingertips against the armchair as the steady tick of the minute hand of the clock on the mantle wears on his last nerve of decency. He's envisioning casting the bloody thing into the fire and watching the flames reduce wood and metal into a pile of ash and metal lava when a familiar voice shatters his vivid thoughts.

"Lieutenant!"

Caleb jumps. He snaps to his feet and whirls around. In the door frame of the adjoining study stands Washington. The expression on his face leads Caleb to believe Washington's nerves are equally frayed. Caleb swallows. "Commander, I uh- didn't see you there."

Washington's eyes narrow a fraction. "I've been told your track was unsuccessful."

The words sting, knowing how close they are to the truth. Caleb's mind flits back to the image of Ben, lying far too still, blue lips parted, lungs fighting for each shallow breath. A wave of nausea courses through him. Bile rises in his throat. He swallows it back and shakes his head, clearing away the image. "Yes, your Excellency." In his peripheral vision Hamilton's head drops low.

"He'll never survive this storm," the man whispers.

Despair flits across Washington's face. "Is that all?"

Caleb shifts his feet and glances at Hamilton. "Could we speak privately, Sir?"

Washington doesn't reply, and Caleb steps closer. "It's important, Sir."

Washington nods. "Tell the others I will be there shortly," he tells Hamilton.

Hamilton nods and exits the room. Caleb inhales, exhales, and inhales again. The simple air exchange does little to calm his nerves. He's never had an audience alone with Washington before. Group meetings sure, but Ben was always there to take the lead. What if I say the wrong thing or stand in the wrong place? Or worse, what if Washington doesn't agree to go along with the plan?

Caleb presses his lips together. He wasn't here to ask for permission. Etiquette be damned, Washington is going to listen. Rolling his shoulders back, Caleb enters the study, and closes the door behind him.

"We found Ben, Sir."

Washington's eyes narrow into slits. "What do you mean Lieutenant, you just said…"

Caleb raises his hands and lowers his voice. "I'll explain everything, just not here."

Washington's hands drift to his hips. "No, you will explain yourself now Lieutenant, and in full."

Caleb chews on his bottom lip trying to decide what to do. There were only two options; stand firm and explain everything later when it is safe, or give Washington the explanation he's demanding and risk having someone overhear, or worse, risk having Washington demand he bring Ben back immediately or else. Caleb shakes his head. Right now, I'm the only one in this room who knows where Ben is. So, I call the shots.

"Listen, your Excellency. I need you to trust me..."

Washington's gaze hardens. "Trust? You just lied to me. In front of a ranking Officer no less."

Caleb breaths in deep, resisting the urge to raise his voice. "Right, I did that. Because something or someone in this camp is trying to kill Ben. I don't know why, but they are, and I will explain all of that later. But right now, all you need to know is he's safe. No thanks to you, or your Life Guards."

Washington stares at Caleb. The muscles in his jaw ripple as he clenches his teeth. His eyes glimmer with a mixture of fury and anger. Caleb swallows, convinced there's a court martial and possibly death by firing squad in his foreseeable future. I shouldn't have said that last part.

"I trust these allegations are supported by hard evidence, Lieutenant."

Caleb lifts his chin. "You'll see for yourself, Sir."

Like a prized fighter, Washington closes the gap between them. "I better."

A small smile tugs at the corners Caleb's lips. "Tell Billy to tell Sackett to meet me in the barn. Then go to your meeting and tell them you have another matter to tend to. Give 'em a task or two to keep them occupied while you meet Sackett and I. And make sure no one sees you enter, have Billy create a distraction if you need to."

Washington nods. "You're dismissed."

…

Caleb paces the barn in disbelief. Wait 'til I tell Ben I told off Washington himself! Before he can celebrate too much the barn door cracks open and Sackett slips in.

"Lieutenant Brewster, what is this about?" The stout be speckled man removes his glasses and wipes the lenses with a bit more vigor than necessary before returning them to their proper place. Removing his hat, he tips it forward. A good amount of water pours out.

"I found Ben."

A variety of emotions play across Sackett's face. Confusion. Joy. Disbelief. "That's not what I heard."

Hope flickers in Caleb's chest. His plan is already working. "I'll explain everything when Washington gets here."

"Indeed."

Caleb watches with a lopsided grin as Sackett eyes the barn door with unbridled suspicion. The man appreciates the need for secrecy, of this Caleb is certain. In fact, he is counting on it, in case Washington needs convincing.

Ten minutes later, Washington enters the barn. He fixes Caleb with a hard stare. "Explain yourself, Lieutenant."

"I will, Sir, I promise. But there's something you need to see."

Washington and Sackett exchange glances. The look on Washington's face tells Caleb the man's patience is running out. Sackett holds Washington's gaze as if to say, 'let's see what he has to show us' though no words are exchanged. Washington frowns, Sackett shrugs and Washington's frown deepens as he turns to Caleb. "Lieutenant, I've had enough of your games. You will explain yourself, right here, right now."

Caleb bristles. "Yeah, well-"

"Come now, George. If Lieutenant Brewster has put forth this much effort to keep this a matter of secrecy, it must be important."

Caleb's heart all but stops beating. There's no way in hell Sackett just called the Commander by his first name while contradicting an order. Wide eyed, Caleb shifts his gaze to Sackett believing he's about to witness the Aide-de Camp's death, which is unfortunate, because the paranoid little man was just starting to grow on him. Well, nice knowing ya Sackett.

"I mean honestly, Lieutenant Brewster is all brawns. The man runs on pure instinct, not forethought and planning," Sackett continues.

Caleb frowns. "Hey."

…

Three shadow figures walk single file down the path leading to Kitchi's teepee. The rain having let up, now covers them with a gentle sprinkle. A thin thread of smoke rises from the dimly lit cone shaped structure ahead. A twig snaps beneath Sackett's boot and the low whistle of a songbird floats on the breeze. Caleb returns the call and Kitchi emerges from the teepee, bow and arrow in hand.

Caleb greets him with a forearm grasp. "How is he?" The Native's expression is grim. Caleb nods. "I brought friends."

Kitchi looks unconvinced. His dark eyes track Washington and Sackett as they approach. He does not greet them. Turning on his heel he re-enters the teepee. The three men fall in behind him. Caleb first, then Washington, and Sackett brings up the rear.

On entering the teepee Washington stops in his tracks. Behind him Sackett gasps. Even Caleb is momentarily caught off guard by the figure lying before them. The left side of Ben's face is so swollen Caleb almost doesn't recognize him. The laceration above his eye, held shut by tiny sutures, is still seeping.

"Show'm the rest Kitchi."

Kitchi strips back the thin layer of blankets revealing Ben's torso. Caleb's eyes travel the length of Ben's body. Now absent of mud and dirt, his injuries look ten times worse. Deep, dark bruises cover fading yellow ones. Lacerations once concealed are now on full display. Beneath a dirty, blood stained rope angry red blotches of skin rubbed raw peek out.

Caleb instantly regrets telling Kitchi to leave the rope be. At the time he'd thought it best for Sackett and Washington to see for themselves the full extent of everything, but now the sight of Ben bound and lying there helpless makes him sick. Taking a knee, he removes his knife from its sheath. One swipe of the blade and the ropes fall away. Washington kneels too, eyes fixed on the bruise resembling a boot.

Caleb follows his gaze and grimaces. "At least two of the ribs beneath that bruise are shattered, Sir."

Washington doesn't look up. "Where did you find him?"

"A few miles into No Man's Land."

"Alone?"

"He was we when we found'm."

Between them Ben comes to life with a moan followed by a full body shutter. He tosses his head as his breathing starts to hitch. Kitchi returns the blankets, which seems to calm Ben only a fraction. Caleb repositions to the top of Ben's head. Kitchi hands him a damp cloth which Caleb wipes across Ben's brow. "Easy Tallboy, I've got ya."

"He needs a doctor, why is he not at the medical tent?"

Caleb glares at Washington. "Don't you see? First that bloody doctor nearly kills him with his drugs. Then he up and "disappears" and now this," Caleb says, gesturing at the plethora of injuries covering his friend. "He didn't run away, Sir. Someone tookhim. And that someone is in this camp."

Washington levels Caleb with a glare of his own. "How do you know he wasn't captured after he fled?"

Caleb scoffs. "Because, he didn't flee."

"Explain yourself."

"The track, it was backwards. Ben didn't run into the woods where Hickey said he did. The West wood line? That's where Hickey exited, not where Ben went in. Kitchi back tracked to an abandoned woodshed and from there to a clearing, where it looks like a scuffle took place. We found Ben not that far from there, still bound, and running for his life. If that doesn't sound like a "drop" gone wrong, I don't know what does."

Washington stares at Caleb. "Perhaps Life Guard Hickey was mistaken. It was dark."

Caleb's jaw drops. "Sir, look at him." He thrusts his pointer finger towards Ben. "He's been bound and beaten!"

Washingtons's head drops low. "Yes, but by whom?"

Aside from the crackling fire and Ben's labored breathing, silence fills the teepee. Washington stands and exits. Caleb pulls the blankets up tight to Ben's chin and follows after him. Outside he finds Washington staring back at camp. Caleb follows his gaze. Fires light up the hillside. At the top of the hill the Ford Mansion glows against the backdrop of a pitch-black night. From the outside looking in the scene is picturesque. Almost peaceful and for a moment Caleb finds it hard to believe there's a sinister plot at work.

"Look, Your Excellency, I don't know what Ben's found, but whatever it is it's dangerous and someone in camp wants him silenced." Caleb takes a half step closer. "He's close to something Sir, I know it. But he's not safe here. Not in his condition. They'll try again and if they succeed it could be the end of everything."

Washington turns and faces Caleb. "He needs medical attention."

Caleb nods. "I know. Kitchi's grandfather is a healer."

"You plan on treating him here then?"

Caleb shakes his head no. "I want to take him to Kitchi's people."

Washington stiffens. "You want to take him out of camp?"

Caleb nods again. "Tonight, before the storm kicks up again."

"I agree. It's Major Tallmadge's best shot, Your Excellency," a voice calls out from behind.

Washington and Caleb turn in unison. At the entrance of the teepee stands Sackett, his face gaunt with fear and worry. He steps towards them. "Lieutenant Brewster's evidence may be circumstantial at best, I'd rather assume he's right, at least in this case."

Washington's face darkens. Finally, he nods. "Take whatever supplies you need. I'll tell the men you're on a run and tomorrow I'll have the Dragoons continue their search for Major Tallmadge."

Caleb breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Sir."

Washington nods and stalks off towards camp. His black cape billows in the wind behind him as he fades into the night. Sackett clasps Caleb on the shoulder. "Godspeed Lieutenant."