by Jerri Hines
“I believe we can do away with the confinement of your clothing. You’ll have little use of them,” he stated in a depraved manner. His fingers slowly moving across her body to find a grip, but in that instant a sound echoed from within the building.
Hannah’s head turned to the sound, the sound of discharging pistols. Someone had come.
Gannon, startled by the noise, loosened his grip upon her. Immediately, she darted away from her attacker. He raced after her. Emerging from the sounds of pistols, a small group of armed men hurried in.
Gannon grabbed at Hannah. She turned, a gleam reflected off the blade of a knife held in his hand. Another shot rang out and Gannon stumbled, falling to the ground. Refusing to let go of his prey, he grasped wildly for her. He caught hold of her leg and jerked her down. Hannah kicked wildly. She glanced behind Gannon. A broad tall figure of a man lurched forth with a knife in hand. The powerful hand stabbed forward. Gannon spewed a terrified cry as the knife landed within his shoulder.
Hannah withdrew backwards. The attacker kicked Gannon in the head. Hannah turned her face. His bare hands went to Gannon’s neck. Gannon’s eyes bulged. The hand let go and the lifeless man fell upon the ground.
“Hannah, Hannah,” the voice called to her. Hannah wouldn’t look. She curled her feet to her and fell into a world of her own. “Philip. Watch her?”
The young man answered the call. “You got him, Giles?”
* * * *
“Only Gannon. I’m going to look for Georgie Boy,” Giles said rapidly. “Get her out of here!”
The young man rushed to Hannah’s side, but she recoiled and wouldn’t move. A movement from behind caught Giles’ eyes. Giles flung his knife at the form. Philip protectively threw his body in front of Hannah when he saw Giles fly into action.
Giles cursed when the blow failed to land. Georgie set in motion. Giles ran barehanded, tackling the heavier man to the ground. Georgie’s breath rushed out. Giles lunged forward, swinging a punch; he landed it upon Georgie’s jaw. Georgie’s hand went to the back of Giles’ neck. He jerked his hair and kicked with all his strength. Off balance, Giles stumbled backwards. Georgie scrambled to his feet. Desperately searching for his fallen pistol.
Back on his feet, Giles caught sight of the weapon in the same moment as Georgie. Quicker than the portly tormentor, Giles didn’t have time to pick it up, but kicked the pistol out of the way. Philip ran and grabbed it, hurrying back to Hannah.
Giles swung at Georgie and waylaid him. Georgie dropped to his knees. Giles kicked him laying him on his side close to the brick fireplace, simmering with red-hot coals. With one more powerful blow, Georgie landed within the steaming coals. A searing of burning skin and a blood-curdling scream emerged. Giles with a look of disgust turned his back on his fallen opponent.
He rushed back to Philip. Hannah sat quietly, her mind far away. He swept her up in his arms and made his way out. The noise subsided. The others of the group withdrew behind Giles. Gannon’s body lay with his eyes wide open. Richard had been shot trying to escape and lay dead where he had fallen.
Philip motioned to Giles that Georgie Boy wasn’t where he had fallen. Giles shook his head. They needed to retreat. Hannah’s fingers gripped him tightly. She didn’t make a sound as they mounted up and rode out of her nightmare.
Chapter Eleven
Giles hadn’t left Hannah’s side since that night. Days passed before she talked. She clung to Giles. In her sleep, she called out for those not around—her father, Mother Agnes…Marcus. She cried and Giles held her.
Dreams of Cora haunted her. She would wake screaming. Giles slept upon a chair and would soothe her. He would talk to her of the countryside, about his horses, about the cause and childhood adventures he had had, but he never stopped talking.
The network had settled her within a quiet house still within the city. She hadn’t been in condition to leave safely. They had used Cora’s body, saying it was Hannah’s. In this way all was behind her. Her past wouldn’t haunt her and she could have a future.
Giles sighed heavily. Guilt surged through him as he watched her restless sleep. Word from Tallmadge with the order to remove Hannah from British hands had almost come too late. Finally Tallmadge had recognized she held within her too much knowledge of the network; key links. The necessity arose with her impending trip to England. They couldn’t take the chance and hadn’t much time to plan. Reverend Brown had been sent to see the condition in which she lived. Breathing in deeply, he thought back to the conversation before the attack.
“We can’t afford a leak, whether intentional or not,” Rupert said when they all met.
“What, pray, do you suggest? You didn’t hesitate to abandon her to the streets before?” Giles shot at him.
“Calm down, Giles,” Rupert slammed his fist down hard upon the table, his patience worn. “I’m tired of you blaming me. The girl left on her own accord. I didn’t force her out.”
“She left before you did. I could have gotten her out,” Giles bantered back. “Now with orders, it won’t be easy.”
Rupert sat back down. He couldn’t disagree. He rubbed his chin, pondering the situation.
Reverend Brown shook his head. “With her expecting Colonel Durham’s child, I believe the mission next to impossible. He’s not going to let us waltz in and say excuse me. At the moment, she doesn’t want to leave.”
Giles firmly shook his head. “I don’t believe that. I was there the night she wanted out. I saw in her eyes how desperately she wanted to leave. The look upon her face when I told her I was sent to take her. I promised her.”
Rupert eyed his childhood friend. He swallowed hard. He wasn’t completely heartless. “Gannon is after her, too. Don’t forget. With her grandfather, which we all realize what she helped us do to him. How much money for our cause was raised with the papers we used to blackmail him?”
“At times such as these, we have to take chances to accomplish our goal,” Reverend Brown said calmly. “We’ll make sure you’re not at risk, Rupert. I’ll take Giles. I have a group of five to six men, including my eldest, Philip. I can quickly arrange this by this evening.”
Giles watched Rupert rubbed his forehead and his eyes. Giles realized Rupert needed time to decipher the best option, time he didn’t have. Rupert placed his head within his hands.
“Also, Rupert, I agree with Giles. She has done too much for the cause to abandon her. She has fallen into a web she can’t remove herself from, but we can,” Reverend Brown added. “We owe it to her to try, whether we have the orders or not.”
Rupert looked up and nodded. “Do it.”
But as Reverend Brown had foreseen, Gannon and Georgie Boy had seen the opportunity themselves and had made the first move. Luckily Philip and another one of his brothers, Abraham, had watched the house as the others prepared for her rescue. Thank God for their quick action in calling in reinforcements.
* * * *
News of Hannah’s death spread as the network had hoped. Reverend Brown held a service for Hannah Corbett not long after. A simple service. Only a few attended, Susanna attended without her husband, quietly crying in the corner. Reverend Brown put all to rest as he eulogized Hannah. The body was buried in the cemetery, a lone spot by itself.
The morning of the funeral, Alexander Clay received uninvited guests for breakfast. The British sentries arrested him before he had time to sit down. Clay seemed legitimately surprised.
“Wait until General Howe hears!” Clay screamed, as the soldiers dragged him from his house.
“Sir, he was the one who ordered your arrest,” the sergeant answered the demonstrative old man in which Clay had no response.
* * * *
Marcus walked into the church. He found Reverend Brown kneeling in prayer. Startled, the Reverend twisted his head to the side.
“Colonel Durham?” Reverend Brown stood.
“Where is she, Reverend? What have you done with her?” Marcus questioned, slurring his words, more than a lit
tle drunk.
“Colonel, the death of a loved one is hard to accept, I know.”
Anger filled Marcus. He gripped the Reverend by the collar lifting him slightly off the floor and slammed him hard against the wall. He pressed against him. “Don’t start with me, Reverend. The one you held the service for today wasn’t my Hannah. Don’t you think I saw the body? That wasn’t my Hannah! Talk quickly. I will run you in if you don’t. I will make your life and your families miserable. Do you understand me?”
Suddenly as quickly as his anger rose, it subsided. Marcus released the Reverend. He dropped down into a pew. Not caring if it seemed unmanly, he sat with his hands around his face. Uncontrollable tears streamed down his face.
He swallowed. “You don’t understand, Reverend. I hear her calling me. Please, for God’s sake, tell me. Is she okay? Did they torture her? Does she want me? Or does she hate me for not being there. My God, Reverend. I can’t sleep. Please God, tell me!”
Reverend Brown gathered himself and sat down beside the Colonel. In silence, while he thought. Then he said. “Look at yourself, Colonel. You’re out of uniform. Unkempt. Unshaven. Eyes bloodshot with a distinct odor of liquor about you!”
“My appearance isn’t what you should be concerned with, Reverend,” Marcus uttered under his breath. His threats clear in his tone.
“Then sober up, Colonel. Clean up. I can’t promise anything. Above all, understand to the world she’s dead and that’s where she needs to stay. Come back tomorrow. We’ll talk.”
* * * *
Obstacles emerged that had to be overcome for the network to obtain its objective with Colonel Durham's declaration. With Colonel Durham’s steadfast refusal to accept Hannah’s death, General Howe ordered the whole of New York City relentlessly scoured. Within days, the British had located her in a Quaker’s home, who, however neutral, had no desire to send the girl back to the British.
Delicate negotiations ensued. Identities had to be safeguarded; secrecy had to be secured, but the network had made a stand and steadfastly refused to see her handed back over t the British.
The immediate effects of the raid were felt widespread, with the British enforcing a swift justice to any and all associated with an assault against a British officer’s residence. An attack upon one of their leading officers wouldn't go unpunished.
Everyone who could be associated with the operation were arrested and executed. Only Alexander Clay was spared a quick death, but was placed aboard the Jersey to endure a slow painful existence until he would thank the Lord for taking him.
Marcus ventured once to the ship. Clay chained within a small chamber where rodents roamed freely. He had dwindled down to skin and bones rapidly. He hung against the wall with his arms secured above him. His clothes ragged and torn. His lips parched. He begged for mercy.
“I have none to give,” Marcus answered stoically. He stared at him, his eyes illuminating the hatred he felt. “I wait only to feed your bones to the dogs.”
Only Georgie Boy had escaped, but his injuries had been extensive. The probability of his survival seemed minimal, but Marcus wouldn't be satisfied until he had his body, also.
Upon Marcus's return to the church, the Reverend had been reluctant to answer questions.
“You have to understand my position, Colonel,” Reverend Brown explained. “I'm in the middle of this. In truth, if not for one of the members of my church seeing something suspicious, I doubt very much the outcome would have been the same.”
“I'm not looking to punish those that rescued her, Reverend.” Marcus said emphatically. “I only want her back.”
The Reverend had always considered himself a brave man, but the next words he would utter he shuddered at the thought of the response that would ensue. The group of them had all agreed upon the stance. He had rehearsed what he would say, but with the man standing in such close proximity, he hesitated. “I'm afraid that won't be possible, Colonel.”
Marcus's eyes flared; his breathing became heavy, his anger building. Reverend Brown stepped back. Marcus didn't move. He uttered under his breath. “Explain yourself.”
“The decision isn't mine, Colonel. I have been asked to relay a request for a negotiation. It will serve you better, I'm sure. Again, let me restate my position. It's not me. I'm only in the middle of the situation,” Reverend Brown said, nervous that the Colonel wouldn't care.
Marcus stood in his steps, not moving and said nothing.
“I haven't seen her, Colonel, but I understand that she is doing as well as she can be under the circumstances,” Reverend Brown said. He moved back. “I have a letter to you I was given that might help explain, much better than I.”
He accepted it. As he read it, he sat down. Reverend waited for his response. He took a seat by the Colonel, a wave of unsuspected sympathy for the man swept through him.
“You have to realize my position, Colonel. Being a man of faith, I could never condone the arrangement you had with Hannah. For that reason and that reason only, I have to ask you to let go of her. I know nothing of the circumstances, but I know the girl that came to me before the occupation,” Reverend continued. “Let her go and have the life she deserves. She has suffered enough.”
“The child?” Marcus asked. His heart sank as he watched the Reverend shake his head.
“I'm afraid it's lost, Colonel. I'm sorry,” Reverend Brown patted the Colonel's back. ”At times like these we need to put the needs of the one we love in front of our own. You have a family, don’t you? A wife and children in England. Hannah has nothing. You must be aware from the letter that they aren't going to let her go. Don't put her through anymore, Colonel. She wouldn't survive.”
“I don't know if I can, Reverend.”
* * * *
Major Tallmadge arrived shortly after Captain Andre. They met at the agreed spot under the white flag, a deserted house along the road to Philadelphia. Tallmadge sighed as he took his seat across from Captain Andre, who talked with a confident air.
“This shouldn't take long, Captain,” Tallmadge said. He imagined this to be the first negotiations of this sort he had attended to in charge of the issue, given Howe had requested Colonel Durham be excused due to the circumstances.
“I'm curious to understand your stance on the situation,” Captain Andre stated. His hand motioned for a drink for the Major. “Colonel Durham is deeply concerned about Miss Corbett's welfare. I hope you can appreciate the fact. He has gone to extreme measure to ensure her safety at times, given that she was sent in to play a game she wasn't prepared for. I'm surprised at your stance, in honesty, Major, given where she could have been.”
“First, we aren't conceding Miss Corbett's association with any network. Our concern pertains to a member of a family that has seen so much tragedy. Her father, brother died for our cause. She was marked by a man who betrayed our cause. Her brother, who is serving proudly within the Continental Army, has requested her return,” Tallmadge began. He stared across at Captain Andre as he accepted a drink.
Captain Andre gave a little shrug. “And I wouldn't concede she didn't. Major, let's lay everything on the table. It's of little to concern with us. The situation was dealt with in our estimation. We considered it in the past. The issue we have is she was willing with the Colonel. Under absolutely no duress. Given the information we gathered with our investigation that she was rescued by a group of neutral citizens responding to call for help in one witnessing the abduction, I wonder where you have emerged from.”
Tallmadge smiled. He sat back in his chair and studied his adversary. He scratched the back of his neck. “The bottom line, Captain Andre, we don't want her going to England. Fair enough.”
“Shouldn't it be her choice, Major?” Andre countered.
Tallmadge shook his head. “No. Not at this time.”
“Then I see no point in continuing,” Andre said and pushed back from the table. “We waited to see what your point was. We know where the girl is being kept, sir. And we don't need
your permission.”
“I wouldn't be so quick,” Tallmadge sighed. He pulled papers from his coat pocket. “Hypothetically speaking, and conceding nothing, as you can see, we have made a list of possible information that may have come from our association with Miss Corbett. As you can see the list is long and it also can be extremely embarrassing to the British government, especially General Howe. I don’t have to mention the newspaper article you published concerning Miss Corbett. To retract such would indeed be of public interest and one would have to wonder, don’t you think?”
Andre reflected little. He glanced over the list. He sighed. Tallmadge didn’t stop.
“If she isn’t allowed free access to leave, there is a much larger one I haven’t included that I can assure you would not reflect well upon anyone associated with the British army.”
Andre stared at him. Tallmadge shot back. “Try me.”
Andre didn’t give in. He smiled again. “Then can I propose a compromise.”
* * * *
Arrangements were made. While most of the solution Giles breathed a sigh of relief, they were allowing Colonel Durham to see Hannah once more. He stood totally against the whole of it.
“Giles, the ground work is accomplished. He can do no damage. He has given his word. He’s saying goodbye and it won’t hurt her to finalize the situation. She has lost so much,” Reverend Brown said.
“Asking for trouble,” Giles snapped.“Then it may do you well not to be here, Giles. I can see,” Reverend countered.
“See what?” Giles asked, his irritation showing through.
“Giles, it is obvious you care for the girl. She’ll need you. Let her say goodbye so she can begin again.” Reverend Brown said.
Giles thought for a moment of denying his feelings. The girl had been through so much. She had saved his life and he, hers. He glanced around the house. Momentarily thinking of taking her to the arranged meeting himself, he looked over at the Reverend. Instead, he left. He didn’t say a word to Hannah. He slammed the door and the whole of the house shook.