15.

The colonel headed out in the direction of the tavern where he was certain he would find Putney. It wouldn't matter now if anyone noticed him. If anyone happened to see him, they would simply think he was heading out for a pint just like anyone else.

They would never know what he was thinking- what he was planning.

In the tavern he found Putney in the taproom just as he expected. A few other men were crowded around other tables, but Putney was drinking alone now.

All the better.

The colonel would have preferred him sober, but the fact was, with his height and build Putney seemed to be an even match for the colonel. His drunkenness would make him easier to take down. He would be clumsy and slower.

Yes, Putney, drink up lad.

He ordered up a pint for himself and paid for it, tipping the bar maid generously. This would buy her silence if nothing else. If Putney ended up being missed the bar maid would never mention a customer that had tipped well. She would have no reason to.

While Putney continued to pound down the alcohol, the colonel nursed his ale until the sweetness of the barely and the flavor of the hops began to taste bitter on his tongue.

Then, he slipped outside and waited.

When the tavern closed for the night, Putney eventually made his way outside.

Staggering down the walk, Putney never noticed the dark-haired stranger trailing him until the colonel caught up to him while he took a piss in an alley.

Stupid man.

Colonel Tavington snuck up behind him and took him down with a choke hold, tightening his forearm against Putney's neck. Putney struggled but he could not get out of the hold. As the need for air grew stronger, Putney's face became redder and he grew weaker.

Putney lost consciousness. The colonel picked him up by the collar and dragged him down the alley into the back lane, which lead to the riverfront.

The colonel had nothing to secure his victim and he cursed himself for not thinking to find some rope or twine. So he used Putney's own shirt, tearing it into strips and binding Putney's hands and feet with it.

No matter, Putney will not escape.

It was rather irritating however that Putney was still unconscious. He wanted him awake, damn it! He didn't have all night. If worse came to worse, he would simply cut his throat and throw him in. But that wouldn't be very much fun. The colonel wanted Putney to know why he was about to die.

With Putney lying like a sack of potatoes on the river bank, the colonel made a little use of his time. He listened to the crickets. He watched the blinking fireflies that had always amazed and fascinated him. There were no fireflies in England. He picked up a handful of pebbles and poured them from one hand into the other, tossing them one at a time into the water.

He was bored now and wanted to get his party started. He stood over Putney and dropped a pebble on his face, aiming for his slack-jawed mouth.

Missed.

The crickets chirrped their summer song but the colonel no longer noticed. There was a different kind of buzzing in his ears, one he hadn't heard in a very long time. He knew what it meant and his lips curved into a nefarious smile.

He dropped another and Putney stirred when it hit his eyelid.

One more and Putney sat up, gagging and spitting the pebble into his lap.

"What the…." A shocked Putney said as he looked up at the colonel, straining to see his assailant in the darkness. "Who are you?"

"You're worst nightmare," the colonel replied in a deadly tone.

"Why have you bound me? If you were going to rob me, I would have given you the money. Let me go now!"

The colonel chuckled, his eyebrows raising in delight. "Oh, I'm not going to rob you, I'm going to kill you."

This was murder and the colonel didn't care. He would do whatever he needed at whatever cost to protect what was his.

"I have friends in this town that will see you hang for this," Putney threatened indignantly.

The little piss-ant clearly has no idea who he is trifling with.

"Only if I'm caught," the colonel replied turning to face his prey with a grin that would frighten the devil himself. "And I have no intention of getting caught."

"I've got no quarrel with you."

"You ruined my wedding day," the colonel replied irritably.

"I've never seen you before in my life."

"No, but you know my wife and she certainly has a quarrel with you."

Colonel Tavington looked on as Putney struggled to understand what he was saying before clueing him in.

"A little over eight years ago you were billeted with a family in Concord, yes?" The colonel clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head slightly as if waiting for the answer but when Putney stared up at him blankly he sighed and continued. "A family by the name of Mitchel?"

Putney paled and then tried to suddenly reason.

"That wasn't my fault. The old man asked us not to drink in the house so we went out to the barn that night. Applegate and Swain didn't mean any harm. They only wanted to have a little fun…"

The colonel was having none of it. He felt his anger twist into a murderous rage and he roared at Putney, "She was barely eighteen! She was INNOCENT! You were the blackguard that got her with child! It is most certainly YOUR FAULT!"

Putney cringed away from the mad man that was screaming in his face. When it actually dawned on him what the colonel had just said, his dark eyes flashed surprise and then confusion.

"A child?"

"A son," The colonel confirmed flatly. "But you will never know him and he will never know you."

"I had no idea…"

"Neither did we. That is until she spotted you in the tavern today. It was obvious by her reaction who you were and what you had done. One good look at you was all I needed to know who fathered the boy."

The colonel could only imagine what was going on in Putney's mind hearing for the first time that he had a child; a son. It wouldnt matter anyway. He felt no compassion, no sympathy for this man. All he knew at that point was that Putney was a threat and the colonel was going to make him go away.

"But you see, if you knew him, you would want to take him. He's my boy now. I cannot allow that. Not to mention the fact that my wife deserves some justice as well. It's been very difficult for me helping her come to terms with what you three vile pigs did to her. Because she suffers, I suffer and because I suffer, you must suffer."

The colonel stood behind Putney while the man struggled to turn and face him.

"You don't have to kill me," Putney suggested in a pleading tone that never failed at annoying the colonel. He rolled his eyes as Putney rambled on. "I promise I'll leave as soon as you let me go. Know one will have to know about this…little misunderstanding."

"There is no misunderstanding, Mr. Putney," The colonel replied matter-of-factly. "You sir, are a deviant of the worst kind. You are perverse and sick and you disgust me. You are the diseased dog and I am the master who is here to put you down. The only question is…how shall I accomplish the task?"

Putney fought once more against his restraints but the scraps of his shirt held tight. Then he became angry, which the colonel expected of course. That was always the way of it.

First they plead, then they get angry and when they realize they are actually going to die, they cry.

The colonel wondered if Putney would cry. With the night soon closing into dawn, he wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

"Normally I would have put a lead ball in your head, but that would be too noisy this time of night….and a short drop and a dance at the end of the hangman's noose is too good for the likes of you."

This didn't seem to phase Putney and as the colonel continued, Putney indeed became angry and flew off into a tangent off his own.

"You piss pot farmers are all alike," he spat venomously. "You leave your women alone and then you cry foul when someone else moves in on your territory….You know that thing she does that you like?...I taught her that."

Putney was grasping; trying to blame the Mitchel's for his own misdeeds. The colonel was having none of it. He knew Mrs. Tavington well enough to know she would never lie to him as this man was now doing and the details Putney was giving were really beginning to piss the colonel off.

The colonel circled his victim at the same time knowing that soon he would be running on pure adrenaline. For now, he would have to settle for enjoying the torment of this man. If only Bordon were there to enjoy it with him. The thought made him feel almost nostalgic, then he snapped,remembering what Bordon said and soon darker ideas came to mind.

"I could always disembowel you and tie you to a tree by your entrails in the ways of the Shawnee," he said speaking slightly over Putney.

Putney stopped, his face was now ash white.

"Or…..I could do as the Cherokee and skin you alive," The colonel brought his face closer to Putney from behind startling him when he spoke close to his ear. "Then I'll dance around in your skin while you watch with lidless eyes as your life slowly and agonizingly slips away."

That was when Putney made the mistake of screaming for help.

The colonel had to think quickly to shut him up. Instead of putting his hand over Putney's mouth and risk being bitten, he stepped back and kicked him in the face. The cracking sound his jaw made indicated a fracture. Putney's pained moans confirmed it.

While Putney rolled on the ground in excruciating pain, the colonel cut the ties at his ankles and forced him to stand with the intention of slitting his throat. He never considered that Putney might have an adrenaline burst of his own and was surprised when the idiot took off in a dead run with his hands still bound.

It didn't take long for the colonel to catch up to him and when he did, he took him in a head lock while he brought his knife around. His heart pounded and the colonel smiled, knowing that soon the rush he had been anticipating all night about to come on strong.

The colonel had two choices; slit Putney's throat or snap his neck.

With his knife at Putney's throat, the colonel wanted him to hear one last thing.

"Before you go, just one more thing, during my short tenure as The Butcher of the Carolina's, I learned never to underestimate the piss pot farmers while you're out to destroy their families."

Clenching his jaw tightly, the colonel pushed the tip of the knife through Putney's neck, listening to the crunch as the blade tore through cartilage until he felt it hit bone. Putney tried to scream but couldn't. The colonel twisted the handle and heard the gurgling sounds Putney made as he left the world adding to his previous thought, "They always come back to stab you in the neck."

Colonel William Tavington made it right just as Bordon wished. No one would take Jason, no one would hurt Mrs. Tavington-ever.

Mission complete.

Colonel Tavington tossed Putney's corpse into the river like the trash that he was, chucked the deadman's hat in after him, wiped his blade on the grass and walked away to a cricket serenade.

A/n I wanted this to come across as the old Tav. The Colonel, the soldier, the commander, cold, selfish, calculating. He knows better than to be so impulsive now. I think this is probably one of the darkest things I've ever written. Let me know what you think!