Although it was still sleeting, as the road turned more west toward the mountains, the going became easier. The sloping foothills had shielded this part of the land from the brunt of the early snowstorms. The snow, covered with an icy sheet that shattered easily under their horses’ hooves, barely came up to their mounts’ fetlocks.
It was almost dawn of a day that was cold as hell with the hail and sleet continuing to fall, peppering them with icy pellets. John sensed a quickening of excitement from the officers’ ahead. They had reached the half -way point. He would reap the glory from this mission. Oh yes he definitely would. Perhaps even parlay it into a field promotion and a permanent staff job in the warm confines of New York City. Another ten miles, then overwhelm the unsuspecting guards, a quick skirmish and they would carry off General Washington, the greatest prize possible and end this rebellion once and for all.
Spies and Deserters Page 38
