Murtagh's dark eyes peered across the vastness of the Scottish Highlands before bringing his attention to the spot where Molly had been. There was silence amongst them as the men circled the area, studying every horse track left behind, as Angus repeated to them everything he had seen while he hid within the trees.

It did not make any sense. The four men had seen the English coming, which was why they had turned back for Angus and Molly. Murtagh thought for sure they would have made it in time, but how could they have been so wrong? They did not even see them leave. If they had, there was no doubt Molly would be here with them. The only conclusion he could come to was that the soldiers had departed through another path. How quickly things changed. Nervously, Murtagh rubbed his hand along his bearded chin before sharing stolen glances with Jamie. Both men could sense the guilt flowing between them. They should have fought a little bit harder for her. The foolishness of their behavior blocked any chance of expressing to Molly how they felt about her. Now they may never have a chance. The English would be sure of that.

Murtagh brought his eyes to the sky as he circled back and forth. His mind raced. Murtagh had sworn an oath to himself to protect her. Suddenly, he felt his boot kick something in his path. Coming to a stop, the male looked down to see what it could be. It felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe. Slowly, he reached towards the ground for the leather-bound book. It was Molly's journal. It had been laying open with the pages pressed against the grass. When he lifted it, the now withered flower from their first meeting in the courtyard appeared hidden underneath. She kept it. That was his first thought as he placed the withered bookmark back in between the pages. Murtagh closed the journal, holding it near his chest. It was when Dougal and Jamie started speaking that Murtagh brought his attention back to the group. Frantically Murtagh turned to face the others and without skipping a beat.

"We have to get her." It was more of a demand rather than a request.

Jamie only offered a quiet stare, studying the way Murtagh clinched Molly's journal so closely. "Aye," He replied in agreement.

"Where do ye think they took her?" Rupert had asked.

"Fort William..." Jamie replied with a glance over his shoulder, "I'm sure of it." He continued.

An unsure silence fell amongst them given Jamie's history and how wanted he was by Randall was that a risk any of them was willing to take?

Jamie didn't hesitate, "We've wasted enough time. If we leave now, we may reach them. Then we can make our move at sundown. The cover of darkness will allow us to blend." It wasn't surprising Jamie's desire to get their friend back overpowered his worry of seeing Randall again. If he comes face to face with the Captain, well, that was for fate to decide.

"Looks like we're going on a hunt," Dougal added in a surprising response. Though, the man was always looking for a good fight.

"Hold on. Ye think the five of us even have a sliver of a chance of going against them?" Angus questioned.

A soft smirk slipped across Murtagh's mouth as he glanced over to Jamie, "I like our chances."

The time it took for the soldiers to bring Molly to Fort William was surprisingly short. The first thing they did was throw the American into a room that looked like a conference room. The room was formal, with pictures of the beloved King of England all over the walls. The table sat in the center. It was long, fitting 13 chairs from what Molly could see. Cunningham, the young soldier, who she was becoming far too familiar with for her liking, brought her to the room. The young man was sweet, and in a way, she felt for him. He would try to talk with her, and every other word that slipped through his lips was an apology. Despite how polite she was in return; it made no difference. Cunningham had to follow his orders, which included leaving her hands bound. It made no sense to her where did these men think she was going to go? Eventually, she was left alone, waiting, waiting for what? That's what scared her the most.

Molly did the only thing she could do, which was sitting there and stare out the window. The sun was still shining, and she had a perfect view of the grounds. Watching the mid-day sky seemed to be the only thing that kept her thoughts at bay. For her to say she was scared would be an understatement. She wondered what happened to Angus and was clinging to hope that maybe they knew she was taken.

After an hour of waiting, one of the large doors slowly creaked open. Molly's body froze, and it was like she forgot to breathe. She didn't turn to look her nerves wouldn't let her. It wasn't until the male who entered cleared his throat for her attention that Molly peered over her shoulder.

Randall stood in the threshold of the doorway, staring his captive down. The worst of it was, he didn't speak, not a single word, he just watched as he cleaned his boots, shrugged his jacket off. Casually, he threw his coat across his arm, using the other to shut the door once again. The only sound Molly heard outside of her breathing was the clicking of the door locking from the outside. She was going to be alone with this man, and he wanted it that way. Being left alone with Randall had been a thought that had fueled her nightmares. The Captain made his way across the room, walking behind Molly, his cold stare following her profile until he was only a few feet in front of her. Randall tossed his jacket across the table, and for a moment, he took his eye off of the brunette as he grabbed a chair for himself. Grabbing the back of the chair, he dragged it across the floor. The sound it made was unnerving. He then set it down in front of Molly, taking a seat across from her.

A smirk slid across Randall's expression as he leaned back in his chair, his arms folded comfortably behind his head. The Captain studied the female, his eyes tracing every feature of Molly's face to her hands folded in her lap. It was how he licked his lips in amusement that gave the impression that he was enjoying this a little too much. Suddenly, Randall leaned forward, reaching for Molly's bound wrists. His touch was gentle at first but became aggressive as he pulled her towards him.

"You might as well make yourself comfortable we are going to be here a while." He smiled.

Slowly, the rope that had been digging into her skin loosened and she was able to free herself. Pulling her hands away from Randall, she nursed the rope burn the best she could with her own hands.

"Your hands are trembling," Randall stated with concern. Gently, the male reached over, cupping his hands into hers. "There is no need to be afraid. I only want information." He continued. "This can go one of two ways Miss St. Claire. I want to be friends, but I will do what I must."

Molly's eyes fell to her lap as she gently pulled her hands from Randalls hold. She didn't have the strength to look at him. She was quiet for a long time until "I don't have any information for you." Her response quiet.

Randall watched her for a moment with a forlorn expression. "Yes, you do." He replied calmly. It was only a matter of time before the levee broke. "The only way you will leave this room is by telling me what I want to know. You will tell me one way or another."

Slowly, she lifted her head, turning to face the Captain, "I don't know anything."

"Molly..." Randall started this time, leaving formalities behind.

Her heart was racing so fast she thought she was going to throw up. Darting her head away, Molly found herself staring out the window once again. For a moment, her eyes squeezed shut as she fought to hold back tears.

"Where is Jamie Fraser?" Randall asked with more assertiveness.

Immediately, Molly replied, "I don't know!" She cried out, whipping her head back to face him.

"This isn't working." Randall expressed out loud. Letting out an exasperated breath, "I'm going to ask you a series of questions. It is in your best interest to answer them as truthfully as you can. Do you understand?"

Molly didn't respond, only continued to stare at him.

"Are you aware of or know plans to overthrow the English government?"

Molly diverted her eyes away from the Captain. Whatever he was going to ask her, she had an answer, but there was no way in hell she would say anything to him that would incriminate herself or her friends. "I refuse to answer any of your questions at this time."

"Are you aware of the interference of Scottish rebellions against the Kings Royal Military in Scotland?" Randall continued.

"I refuse to answer any of your questions at this time." She said again.

Randall pursed his lips together, what little patience he had was starting to run thin. "Are you now or have you ever been a Scottish sympathizer?"

"I refuse to answer any-"

"Have you helped in the aiding and abetting of one Jamie Fraser!"

Molly could feel her entire body shake like a leaf. The tears she was fighting to hold back, now staining her cheeks. Taking a hard swallow, "I refuse to answer-". It happened so quickly; Mollys' head jerked back as her cheek met the back of Randall's hand. Immediately she went to rub her cheek. The sensation lingered, and she was sure it was going to bruise. The Captain reached over grabbing her shoulders shaking her.

"Do you think this a joke? They are nothing but common criminals and savages. What exactly have they done to make you so loyal to them, hm?"

Furrowing her brows, Molly pushed Randall away from her. What she wanted to say was everything, but instead, "Don't touch me!"

For a moment, the Captain backed down, giving the young woman some space, studying her quietly until it hit him, and a cheeky grin slid across his lips like the snake that he was. "I know." He teased. "You're in love. Isn't that sweet?" Randall mocked. Molly stiffened her body; her stare focused on anything but him. Suddenly, she felt the Captain lean forward with his hand gently brushing Molly's hair away from her face. Then she felt his warm breath on her neck as he whispered in her ear, "Let me guess, it was his red hair and strapping looks. One night, you two found yourself alone together, and he began to whisper sweet nothing's in your ear...". His words trailed as he watched his fingertips dance along her thigh. But it was her lack of a reaction that made him realize he had it wrong. "Oh my God." The Captain chuckled before gently tilting her head towards him. He wanted to look her in the eye. "It's the other one!"

Molly did her best to hide any emotion she was feeling, but it didn't work. The moment he said other one she knew who he was speaking of. "I would have thought you would have chosen someone more refined. The trash has good taste I'll give him that."

"He's a good man. Something I'm sure no one can say about you." She spat.

Randall only smirked as he leaned back in his chair. "I can assure you Miss, St. Claire; I know exactly who I am. I'm also confident that once I tell you, you're being charged with treason, you will want to reconsider the person you chose to be today."

Suddenly the Captain had her full attention. "Treason?" Molly panicked. "On what grounds? I'm American. You have no authority over me."

"I'm sorry?" The audacity of this woman. "The last time I checked Miss St. Claire, the only thing separating the colonies from England was a body of water. Despite the separation, you are still the property of the King."

Molly went to open her mouth but found herself at a complete loss of words. Her eyes grew like saucers as she realized he was right. The Colonies were not free from England; as Randall had stated, there was no George Washington, no Declaration of Independence it wouldn't come into existence for another 33 years.

"Should I hang you? Or let you rot behind bars with the rest of the liars and thieves until you decide to do the right thing. I'm patient. I can wait." His eyes narrowed. "I ask you now, what is it all for?"

Molly took a moment to mull over the question. Her eyes swelled with tears as she looked Randall in the eyes and replied, "For Scotland."