Test of Faith

Chapter 57

~~~~June 17, 1775, Boston

"This is not Bunker Hill."

Mirabella found herself in Boston the following month, joining Connor as a soldier led them to one Israel Putnam. 

During that month of preparing and planning, she had trained Claudio vigorously every day. The boy had grown and honed his skills, becoming a fierce and powerful Assassin.

"Domenico would have been very proud of you, ragazzo, as well as Roberto," Mirabella had told him on the day of his ceremony. 

He is not a boy anymore...already 33 years old, and I remember when he was 15 like it was yesterday. "Putnam's just ahead, you can't miss him."

Mirabella didn't realize they had arrived at the camp until the soldier spoke, and she dismounted from her horse. "We are very close to the city," she observed, gazing across the water. 

Instead of feeling fear or regret, like at the time of William Johnson's demise, she felt rage - hatred and rage.

She did not have a close enough relationship with Pitcairn - she would enjoy seeing him fall. A cannon was suddenly fired in camp, making Mirabella shoot a protective arm in front of Connor.

"I rest my case. I'm going back to Bunker Hill - good day, gentlemen!" At the sound of Putnam's voice, the two Assassins hurried after him. "General Putnam!" Connor called. "What?!"

Mirabella was taken aback by his rude tone, but she stood her ground. "We are looking for John Pitcairn," she announced. "We were told you'd be able to help us find him," Connor added.

Putnam scoffed at Mirabella. "They send a little lady out in a war? Have we become that desperate?" he snapped bitterly. 

With an angry yell, she lashed out with her Hidden Blade, and Putnam's cigar was sliced in half. Connor held back a snicker at Putnam's shocked expression, and Mirabella stared him down. 

"H-he's tucked away inside the city with no reason to leave. So long as that ship continues its assault, we'll never flush him out," he explained quickly.

"But if the ship was silenced?" Connor suggested, glancing at Mirabella briefly. "Then poor John might be forced to get off his arse and come forward!" 

Connor nodded, then picked up a discarded flag. "I shall fly this flag to signal our success," he declared.

"And I shall speak fondly of you at your funerals," Putnam hissed, turning away. Mirabella smirked smugly. "And I will slice off more than a cigar for underestimating us!"

~~~~

"Jump, Connor!"

The two Assassins leapt off the second ship just as it exploded, lighting up the sky in orange. Mirabella broke through the water's surface with a gasp, and she wiped her soaked hair off her face.

"Bravo, Connor...we did it," she said breathlessly. Connor panted as well, glancing back at the burning ships. "It is not over yet. John Pitcairn awaits us," he said, and with that they swam back to shore. 

Armino paced impatiently on the dock, rearing back when Mirabella pulled herself onto dry land. "Calmati, bello, it's okay," she whispered as he nosed her frantically. 

The two Assassins quickly rode back to Breed's Hill, enjoying the temporary silence. Once they arrived and dismounted, Putnam's commanding voice could be heard from across the camp, so the two of them approached curiously.

"The enemy advances and you tremble. They've better numbers, you say. Better weapons, better training. But I do not fear, and neither should you. For what they have in material, they lack in conviction and care. But not us - we have discipline, we have order, and most importantly, we have passion. We believe! So maintain vigilance, conserve your ammo. Ensure a proper line of sight, and above all else, men: do not fire until you see the whites of their eyes."

I suppose he is not full of shit after all.