We've broken 1,200 views! That's incredible! Here's another chapter for you guys. Like I mentioned earlier, it's going to get more serious as the chapter progress. Let me know what you think in the comments, I love hearing how you guys think the story will end.
-Hawkfrost
Astrid smoothed her skirt, stood up, and began cleaning the table. The emotions that were whipping through her, she didn't know how to process. It was all just too much for her. She knew she couldn't feel this way for him, it would never work. If they ever found out about her…other job, she'd be hung for high treason. I know this will never work, but do I want it to work? She shook her head and headed back toward the kitchen. She deposited the dirty dishes into the basin and grabbed a rag to wipe her hands, partly because they were dirty and also to hide their shaking from her approaching boss.
"Astrid?" His voice was cautious.
"Are we going to have a problem? He's not going to be a weakness, is he? Or have you forgotten how you got into this fight?"
She stared at him dumbly, her brain not processing the audacious stupidity of his question. When her brain finally pieced together his accusation her vision was colored red.
"How dare you question my dedication."
Her voice was dripping with barely controlled rage, her breathing was coming fast and hard, like a track horse after a race.
He took a couple steps back and raised his hands in a calming gesture.
"I know I know. I'm sorry."
She pulled off her apron and contemplated strangling him with it, but realized if she did she would lose her job. With apparent reluctance, she threw it on the hook. Great, now your temples are throbbing. With a sigh, she sat down at the table and focused on her breathing. Rubbing her head she closed her eyes. He sat down across from her and cleared his throat.
"What?" He flinched at her tone.
"Nothing, it's just that my sister wrote me."
She paused at that. He had just initiated the first phase of a challenge phrase and his choice of words indicated high-level importance. She flicked her eyes up to look at him.
"Really? How's the farm been doing? It must be difficult with her husband's broken arm." Is it really that important?
He stared back at her evenly. "Quite well actually, Matthew's been pitching in. In fact, my sister thinks he'd like to see you again." Yes, it's that important.
Astrid sighed and straightened up. "I suppose I could stop by, I am rather fond of your sister, and it would be nice to see him again." Tonight then.
00000
Henry rolled his shoulders and proceeded out the door and up the steps to the third floor, his personal floor. Closing the door behind him he walked to the cabinet and pulled out a glass and a bottle. He needed it, this was going to be a long day and he could already feel the stress behind his right eye. He was just about to take a sip when he heard the floorboard creak slightly. He stopped and placed the drink down and quietly picked up a knife that he'd left lying on the counter.
"Leave it alone Henry, it's just me." The voice spoke with bored resignation.
He turned around to see General Clinton standing in his living room, resplendent in his dress uniform.
"General, what a surprise." He smiled at him and placed the knife back on the counter.
"Tell me, Henry, how go things on this side of the pond?" He looked out the window at the city below.
"Not much has changed since you made your report in London, the same people hate us and the same people love us."
"A rather negative chap aren't you?" He sat down on his couch and crossed his legs.
Henry walked over and handed him a drink.
"Thank you. So tell me Henry, are there any women left for us or have you sampled them all?"
The general raised his eyebrows drawing another laugh from Henry.
"What can I say general? Can I help it if women find me irresistible?" He shrugged in a way that said, what could you do?
The general snorted and sipped at his brandy. "I seem to remember a woman who could stand against the waves of your charm. In fact, isn't she how you got your nickname, Hiccup?"
Henry sputtered indignantly.
"That was an anomaly and years ago general! Besides, I was fighting off a cold that day. Nothing more."
There were a few seconds of silence before they both erupted into laughter. The general and he had been friends for years. They had fought wars together on just about every country within the Kings domain. From pacification efforts in Ireland to expansion operations in Burma. General Clinton had a few rough edges, he could be arrogant and ill-tempered, which is why Henry was there to straighten him out; point his aggression in a more precise direction. After knocking back the rest of his drink he set it down, it was time for business.
"So tell me Major, how goes your operations? I spoke to his Majesty, he was most impressed with your previous operations."
Henry swirled his drink in his cup and then drained it. Setting it on the small placement mat he looked up at the general.
"Thank you, sir, one can never have too many friends in Whitehall."
He stood and walked over to his bookcase. Pulling open the glass doors he selected a decrepit looking book. Holding it so that the binding was facing him, he hooked his fingernail at the bottom and popped open a small slot. Within the slot held a key. He removed the key, replaced the binding, and returned the book to its case.
"Really Henry, don't you think that's just a bit much?"
"No general I don't. And neither will you once you read the information this key unlocks."
Walking over to his desk he inserted the key and turned it, opening a drawer. He pulled out a letter wrapped in leather cloth. Closing the drawer, he returned the couch.
"General before I can disclose the contents of this letter you have to swear to not discuss its contents to anyone else without consulting me first."
Clinton didn't like to be dictated to by a subordinate, but when Henry spoke like this it was usually over information that was worth far more than a minor slight. So, he nodded.
"You have my word." Henry nodded and handed over the letter.
The general took his time reading it. Once he hit the middle part his face changed and he sat straight up. His eyes stared flicking back forth across the letter and he began murmuring softly. Once he was done he leaned back and stared at Henry, saying nothing.
"I-is this trustworthy?"
"It could be, I haven't responded yet, I wanted to discuss it with you first."
"By God himself Henry. This could win us the war!" The general was excited now.
Her name was Peggy Shippen. She was Philadelphia elite that Henry had come into contact with last year. They had met at a dinner party to celebrate a British victory. She was captivated by the allure of his uniform and job description. That wasn't to say it was easy, there weren't many women with a mind as sharp as Peggy.
"My God man, what do you do with these women?" Clinton had poured himself another drink and had swallowed half the glass.
"A gentleman never betrays a woman's confidence. Let's just say that she didn't spend all that time on her knees praying."
Clinton shook his head laughing, laughing so hard he had to place down his drink. "I tell you, some men feast while others starve. Miss Peggy Shippen, little miss innocent Peggy Shippen renown for her virtue falls prey to Major Haddock's wily ways."
He said those last few words between laughs. Henry smiled at him and sipped at his drink again. His conscience wondered vaguely if he should feel bad about what he had done to that sweet girl, what he was doing to this girl. He remembered the morning after, she had drawn a heart in the dust on his shoe. All he felt then was sadness, because he knew he had her and it was nothing more than a cover. When he had washed himself that morning he wasn't particularly fond of the reflection he saw in the mirror. It was no matter, every agent knew there was plenty of time to reflect on what you've done once the jobs over. She wasn't a person, she was a mission.
Satisfied that he had no reason to be guilty he turned his attention back to his general.
"Henry, you get this girl. No matter what it cost. You get this done."
"Yes sir, I'll start as soon as we're finished here."
The general shook his head and chuckled again. "Benedict Arnold. Damn."