Embrace of the Enemy (Winds of Betrayal)
Page 1
EMBRACE OF THE ENEMY
BOOK TWO
WINDS OF BETRAYAL SERIES
Jerri Hines
Winds of Betrayal Series
Book Two
EMBRACE OF THE ENEMY
By Jerri Hines
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright @ 2013 by Jerri Hines Smashwords Edition
Cover Art: Erin Dameron-Hill
www.edhgraphics.blogspot.com
Previously published as Patriot Secrets with Wild Child Publishing
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
DEDICATION
To Bob
Winds of Betrayal Series
Book Two
Embrace of the Enemy
Chapter One
Another cannon ball struck and another. Shutting his eyes, clods of dirt showered Doctor Jonathan Corbett. He heard the drum cadence growing louder. The beat thudded in rhythm announcing the Redcoats arrival. Many of the untrained troops within the ragged American army screamed in outright terror.
The British had crossed into New York Island and landed at Kip's Bay. Jonathan had seen the big ships appear in the East River that morning, just two hundred yards from shore. Even before Jonathan lifted his head to risk a look, he smelled smoke. Dirt stained Jonathan’s skin; his shirt, sweat-sodden. Glancing around, Jonathan watched in horror as the militia pulled back in panic.
Soldiers, British and Hessian, attacked with glittering steel, the steel of bayonets. Upon this sight, the militia’s initial withdrawal became an outright riot. Jonathan heard a British musket ball hissing by. He grabbed his own weapon. Men thrashed and screamed. Bodies fell.
Jonathan ducked as a cannon ball exploded no more than twenty feet in front of him. Looking up, something sticky struck him in the face. Blood. He saw a soldier lying wounded gripping tightly to a hole in his stomach. Blood oozed out between the man’s fingers. Jonathan crawled to the side of the fallen soldier. Frustration encompassed Jonathan when he comprehended there was nothing he could do for the man.
Suddenly a sight caught his eyes. General Washington in his dark blue coat with white facing and a buff waistcoat rode up on his white horse—enraged. Washington shouted, demanding the men return to their lines. Whipping his horse one way and then another, Washington struggled to stem the stream of fleeing panic-stricken militiamen. Momentarily paused the men formed a defense line, but the panic ensued once more upon the sight of the Redcoats. The command to halt went ignored.
Washington threw his hat to the ground, lashing with his cane at his men as they streamed past him in a frenzied retreat. Washington bellowed, “Are these the men I am to defend America with?”
Through the smoke and dust, Jonathan made out a soldier upon horseback and one he recognized. Gabriel rode up. He hadn't seen his friend since his conversation with Lanson. He had made a conscious decision not to seek out Gabriel. He had too many worries upon him: Catherine, little William, and his sister, Hannah. Moreover, he had to deal with Gannon's cutting betrayal. He would contend with Gabriel in his own time. At the moment his immediate concern lay with General Washington.
“By God, Gabriel!” Jonathan cried. “Don't just stand there. Go and retrieve the General!”
Gabriel looked over his shoulder and nodded toward Jonathan. He nudged his horse toward the uncharacteristically listless Washington. He grabbed the reins and led the Commander’s horse from the shameful scene. Jonathan watched until they rode out of sight. Retreat had been signaled. The Continental Army was on the run inland.
Jonathan sighed. His thoughts turned quickly to his son and wife, hopefully safe, but a sickening feeling overcame him. Retreating with what was left of the army, Jonathan watched the city grow smaller in the distance. A fear crept inside of him for the one that was now caught within the city— Hannah.
* * * *
Jonathan stumbled and dropped to his knees, but sprang up and rammed Gabriel, knocking him off his feet. Jonathan toppled Gabriel into the mud. Jonathan found steady footing again, but the man who once had been his friend avoided the next blow, sending Jonathan downward.
Gabriel jumped down on top of him, “You're drunk!”
“I may be, but when I get up I'm going to kill you,” Jonathan bumped up sending Gabriel backwards.
“Oh, heavenly Christ!” an officer spoke, looking over the mud covered pair. A couple of Continental soldiers broke them up. One restrained Jonathan.
“A couple of Virginians, Major!”
“That is no excuse,” the officer said looking on disgusted. One of the soldiers that held tight to Jonathan beside him leaned over and whispered, “One's the doctor, sir.”
The young officer glanced over both. “Names.”
Gabriel answered first rubbing his chin, “Lieutenant Gabriel Witherspoon from the Virginian Division, sir.”
“You're Lieutenant Witherspoon?” the officer said. “I was looking for you. The General has requested your presence. Go clean up the best you can. I believe he wishes to commend you for your actions a few days hence, but if he sees you like this it might be different.”
Jonathan’s eyes glared at Gabriel. As Gabriel passed he tried to pat Jonathan's back. Jonathan almost initiated the fight again.
The young officer stared at Jonathan and motioned for the soldiers to release him. “So you’re Jonathan Corbett?”
Jonathan nodded breaking his trance upon Gabriel. He turned toward the voice, “I am.”
“My name is Major Benjamin Tallmadge. Would you care to spare me a few minutes of your time after you clean yourself up? And Doctor, drink some coffee.”
Jonathan had no choice but to follow Major Tallmadge’s orders. At the moment he couldn’t have cared less if they threw him in the brig or threw him anywhere. His head spun. He hadn’t intended to fight Gabriel, but his temper got the best of him; watching the others congratulate Gabriel on his heroics in saving General Washington and Gabriel accepting all. It had been too much to bear.
Jonathan did the best he could to remove the crusted mud. He had no other clothes to wear. The army had to travel fast. He washed his face and walked down toward Major Tallmadge’s tent. He bent down through the flap of the tent.
Major Tallmadge sat at a makeshift table. He smiled wearily at Jonathan. “It was a hard last few days. Has it not, Dr. Corbett?”
Jonathan nodded. “Harder for some than others?”
Major Tallmadge shrugged. “I believe that to be true. That’s why I’m going to overlook the incident today. But I have wanted to talk with you. It’s a coincidence that I was just having a talk about your father with General Washington. He told me that you were within camp. You’re friends with the General’s son, I take it.”
The reference to his father sobered Jonathan. He sat up solemnly. “My father? What do you know about my father?”
“I have been learning, Dr. Corbett. A necessity I’m afraid. The Continental Congress has tried for a while now to integrate some sort of intelligence network. I understand your father had been an integrate part. I understand you helped him before your commission into the army,” Major Tallmadge watched Jonathan’s reaction.
“I became aware of his actions, but in honesty it’s not my calling. I’m afraid I’m not equipped to be other than who I am. But it seems that others within my f
amily have been called upon,” Jonathan eyed Major Tallmadge carefully.
Major Tallmadge eased back in his chair. “We have many problems with establishing a network at the moment, Dr. Corbett. The problem mounts due to the lack of able personnel, such as your father, but he wasn’t the only one. Morse, Schuyler also. It is also hard to know they were betrayed by one we considered our own and that’s what I want to talk to you about at this time.”
Jonathan became silent for a moment. “What, pray, are you referring to?”
“I believe Peter Lanson informed you of our findings and laid out the best course of action for you to come back into the front. I believe we owe your family a debt of gratitude and I wanted to tell you that the situation will play out shortly,” Major Tallmadge said.
Jonathan stood, infuriated. “Am I not to know? I have a wife and a son that needs to be protected.”
Major Tallmadge motioned for him to return to his seat. “All arrangements have been made. I believe Gannon won’t want them to be involved either, I’m sure. Lanson informed you of his dealings. We’ll confiscate all his property and possessions and transfer them over to you since I was informed he stole from you himself. Also, when I receive word it has gone down, you will be allowed a short leave to take care of your matters at hand.”
Major Tallmadge bit his lower lip. He had been handed his new position with Colonel Knowlton going down. Washington, sighting that they had not been able to obtain the least information as to the enemy’s plans, wanted a spy network established immediately within New York. Lanson said New York was in shambles with only a few operatives, a couple with promise, but there were issues to address, which would become a top priority after he dealt with Joseph Gannon.
Knowlton, before his death had detached an operative for a special service, one who volunteered, but wasn’t equipped for the mission. Tallmadge’s heart sank when he read an urgent correspondence from one of his classmates, William Hull.
Benjamin, I tried my best to talk Nathan out of the foolhardy venture but to no avail. I told him it wasn’t within his line of duty. He is much too frank and open tempered to act successfully the part of a spy or to face its danger, which would probably lead to a disgraceful death. No one else would volunteer, though. One of the enlisted men replied upon the request, ‘Fighting the British is one thing, but I have no wish to go among them, be taken, and hung like a dog.’ Nathan took on the quest. God be with him for now he’s gone within.
Worry mounted for his friend in the dangerous position he had put himself in. He studied Jonathan, who had already suffered losing his father and brother to such a death.
“Major Tallmadge, you seem to know more about my life than I do, but tell me how you haven’t mentioned the other situation?” Jonathan asked frankly.
Tallmadge stared at Jonathan. “What other situation are you referring to? I know of no other?”
“You realize that someone obtained the information against my father-in-law. Foiled some attempt upon the General. You can’t tell me you know nothing of her?” Jonathan’s voice rose.
Tallmadge shook his head, racking his brain for some relevance to the issue at hand. For the life of him, he couldn’t recall any. “Dr. Corbett, calm down. I have no idea of what you are talking about.”
“You’re telling me you know nothing of the network’s intention of keeping her within New York when she wanted out. She did what she intended and then the network proceeded to bribe her fiancé, the wondrous Lieutenant Witherspoon, into talking her into staying so she would be trapped within the city. Wouldn’t let me see her. Knew I would have taken her out.
“What control do you have, Major? Can you get her out? Do you realize what they do to spies, Major? I understand all too well,” Jonathan stated emphatically.
“Who, Dr. Corbett, are you referring to?”
“My sister, damn it. My sister.”
Chapter Two
Hannah arose in the morning of the 22nd of September with the smell of smoke lingering within the air. The terror of the day before the conflagration of the city had dissipated into a different kind of fear. The fire had been quenched. Although for a time it had seemed impossible to check the flames.
Fleeing Patriots had supposedly set the fire. Bells from the churches had been taken out by order of the Provencal Congress. Confusion reigned.
Sleep hadn't come for Hannah. She closed her eyes tightly, but all she could see was darkness descending down upon her. She had come to New York for one purpose—to find the traitor that was responsible for her father and brother’s death. Revenge gnawed within her soul.
She had cared for little after the raid that killed her mother. When the news of her father and William’s hanging filtered to her, she had been devastated. She had clung to hurt to do the unthinkable. She infiltrated her grandfather’s home with one intent—revenge. She had no doubt her grandfather orchestrated her family’s demise or the fact he well knew who betrayed her father.
The moment she entered New York, she became part of a spy network relaying all the information that came her way. A dangerous mission if any suspected her of being a leak. Being her grandfather was a staunch Loyalist, information came easily. Hannah hadn’t hesitated to relay all the details she overheard.
Now, though, her mission was complete. She had found the traitor that betrayed her father—Joseph Gannon! Her intent had been to go home at this point, but now she was trapped. The British had taken control of New York.
Don't panic! Gabriel would have never left her like this…not caught within the city. She had waited and prayed for a miracle. Her ears keen upon any sound, any movement, but none came.
She dressed herself in a simple gown for she didn't know what else to do. She walked into her grandmother's room, who was sleeping soundly. The poor woman had no idea of the goings on around her. Hannah descended the stairs only to find Mrs. Hayes all aflutter with excitement.
“Mr. Clay is beside himself. He wants the house cleaned immediately. We're expecting visitors. Of course you wouldn't know, Miss Hannah, but Mr Clay is prominent with the Tory circle. We can expect lots more visitors, I can tell you,” Mrs. Hayes sighed. “I just can't be expected to get the house into order with all this smell of smoke and dust.”
“Is Grandfather within his study?” Hannah asked, paying no heed to Mrs. Hayes’ ramblings. She watched Mrs. Hayes nod, but then the woman escaped into the kitchen. Hannah stood alone within the foyer.
Hannah paced. She needed to think. Deep in thought, she jumped back when the study door opened. Her grandfather emerged from the room with a small group of British redcoats. Hannah swallowed hard, hoping against all hope that her grandfather didn’t notice her apprehension of their presence. His expression soured as he caught sight of her waiting. She ignored the gesture. “Are we to go now?”
“You aren't going anywhere, Hannah. I’m not saying this more than once. I don't want you out in this for any reason. Is that understood?” he admonished her.
She disregarded the others present. She pleaded, “But Grandfather....” She paused. He shot her a look that she comprehended well. She sidestepped and let all pass.
A young handsome lieutenant glanced back over his shoulder, giving her a small nod. She paid no attention to his interest. She had no time for games.
Reason didn't play well with her instincts to run. She had an instinctive need to leave this house, an overwhelming sensation of impending doom. She didn't know how long she stood staring at the door, but she could stand it no longer. She grabbed her cloak and without one word to anyone, walked out the front door.
The stiff air greeted Hannah as she ventured forth. Logic played no part in her decision, only her urge to leave. She walked.
She walked by her church, which stood untouched. Although the further she walked, the more destruction she discovered. Businesses had been rampaged. She watched men run into buildings and returned with arms full of merchandise. On the next street a small band of British soldiers ch
ased the rioters. She continued onward down by the Beekman mansion, which lay near the East River on Manhattan.
Mayhem reigned. Chaos ensued as soldiers ran rampant detaining many and arresting others. Finally, Hannah found a place to sit in the gardens not far from the Beekman mansion. In her view, the whole of the city was overrun with redcoats. She sat without a word and stared blankly out in front of her. However was she to go home now?
Suddenly, voices startled her from behind. Her heart calmed when she realized the words weren't directed at her.
“I don't know where else we are to put them. I don't believe the Sugar House can hold more. Has to be more than two hundred held upon the supposition that they were incendiaries to the fire,” one voice commented.
“General Howe is in no mood to be lenient.”
“The poor soul this morning, but I s’ppose there had to be made statement, Arthur. Don’t you think?”
“Think? I think that if this is any indication of the intelligence of the Americans, then they are indeed not long to deal with. The spy signaled our ship. No question about his intent. Drawings and papers damned him without a debate. General Howe ordered the execution without even a trial.”
“But I will give that his spirit was strong. Although from his appearance, too gentle a disposition for the role he was supposed to have played. I found him to have a consciousness of rectitude, even dealing with Cunningham. He destroyed the letters I let the poor fellow write his family. Told me that the damn rebels shouldn't know that they had a man in their army who could die with so much firmness in his beliefs.”
“I know you, Captain Montresor, haven't seen eye to eye over much with Cunningham, but we are at war. He may be too brutal by half, but maybe that's what the Americans need at the moment. Hit them hard and they won't come back with this ridiculous notion of independence.”