A big carriage was blocking the street, knocked over a side, when the soldiers first arrived on the place where they'd heard the shots. A woman was desperately crying upon a body, her curly red hair falling all over her beautiful face.
"William – oh my god... help!" she shrieked when she saw the redcoats marching towards them.
Colonel Dane, being a gentleman, immediately kneeled to her side, checking the man's vitals; his eyes were open – his iris almost completely black – but he was already gone. Dane helped the lady up and gave her a coat to shield herself from the cold wind.
"Who are you, Madam? What happened here?"
"I'm Mary Bell," she replied, still shocked, "we've been attacked... the rebels –"
"You need to come with us; we'll take care of you and escort you to the closest city as soon as we'll leave the camp."
"What about my husband?"
"We'll take care of his body as well. You're lucky to be alive," the Colonel noticed and mounted back on his horse, helping her to get on, "this place is full of bloody rebels, in the last weeks they've launched several assaults on our camp to get hold of our plans."
"Oh my, did they get them?"
"Of course not, Mrs Bell," Col Dane smirked arrogantly, "I always keep the plans with me and I'm the hardest man to kill here – I'm never alone and I've survived three wars so far."
As soon as they entered the camp, a soldier ran towards Dane. He saluted the Colonel and reported the news.
"Colonel Dane, sir, I checked the papers you gave me and all the numbers are fine. We had three hundred and thirty-five bayonets and now twenty-five are missing," he started to list, "we can't find most of the blankets; they've stolen two powder bags and even one of our drums!"
Dane swore and followed the man in his tent. "Those damned rebels, they're trying to weaken our defences by stealing our equipment. I want two soldiers warding the supplies tent day and night," he ordered.
"Is everything all right?" a shy voice asked from the entrance.
Dane turned to Mrs Bell, looking as if he'd already forgotten she was there.
"Mr Grunt," he called the soldier back, "clear a tent for Mrs Bell, she'll be our guest until we reach Pittsburgh next week."
"Yes, sir."
The following morning, Dane woke up to bad news: both the soldiers who were guarding the supplies were dead. He stormed out of his tent to go see the bodies – the killer had stabbed one of them, while the other was simply laying on the ground with his black eyes open and his limbs stiff, as if he'd had a sudden stroke.
"What happened to him?"
"His heart has always been weak."
Dane walked back and forth a couple of times. "We'll prepare an ambush tonight," he said at last, "appoint two other soldiers to the supplies tent – this time we'll be waiting for them."
The night was quiet. The soldiers hidden among the trees and bushes were quieter. Dane looked around for any sign of movement, but there was none. At the first lights of dawn it became evident that no one would be coming and the Colonel eventually gestured for everyone to leave their positions. The redcoats tiredly retired in their tents and Dane was heading towards his own, when he suddenly heard noise coming from Mr Grunt's tent.
"Mr Grunt?" he announced himself before entering, "what the hell –
His most promising soldier was on the ground, his body rigid and his eyes open. In one hand he clutched a short dagger, while a scarlet stain of blood was still spreading on the ground next to him – it was not Grunt's blood, he must have wounded the murderer before dying.
Dane followed the blood trail outside the tent; the killer had exited from the back and had entered the forest, leaving blood drops after him. Dane squinted and suddenly caught a glimpse of someone moving ahead of him – it was the murderer! He started running, dodging around the trees and moving closer and closer to the figure, who was slower because of the injury.
The shadow stopped into a small clearing in the woods, breathing hard. The crimson rays of the day's first light made her red hair look like fire.
"Mrs Bell," Dane shouted angrily, "is this how you repay my kindness?"
She turned to him and her face lit up at once. "Colonel, thank god!" she moved closer – she didn't seem scared at all – "that soldier attacked me, I thought it was him who was following me!"
"Stay still." He drew his pistol out and pointed it at the woman; his hand was shaking slightly.
"B-but I swear, Colonel, I was only trying to defend myself!"
"Stop lying, you witch!"
The woman froze for a moment and then burst into tears. "Are you going to kill me?" she sobbed, wiping the tears away with a sleeve.
Dane hesitated – he didn't want to kill a woman. "I'll do what is right," he said. The words sounded weak to his own ears.
"Colonel, I know you have a good heart," she whispered, moving closer until she was only a step away from him. She stretched out a hand and gently placed it on Dane's, lowering the gun; then, she closed the distance between them and kissed him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he pushed her away after a moment, "I won't accept such bargain to save your life."
"Dear Colonel," she said seductively, moving away from him, "you would've killed me if I were a man, but you forgot that women are equally dangerous. Delicate flowers come with poisonous berries, Dane."
Dane raised his arm to shoot. Or at least he tried to, but his arm didn't move. His sight suddenly blurred and the woman's words came to him muffled.
"What d-did you do t-to me?" he managed to utter.
"I'm finally taking my revenge, colonel," she sneered, "you killed my father two years ago. He was a former redcoat and a rebel, you had him executed in front of a crowd. I was there and I swore I'd be the one to kill you.
"You see," she went on, "I've been drinking small doses of this poison since I was a child and I'm immune to it now; it's called Belladonna. Oh, but don't worry, Dane, the poison won't kill you... you're too valuable to die – for now."
She waved a hand and two rebels appeared from the trees.
"Oh, right, may I introduce you to my real husband?" she pointed at one of them, "I think you've met before, haven't you Gregory?"
"I've been waiting to meet you again, Colonel," he said mockingly. "Where are the plans?" he then asked to his wife.
"In his pocket."
The two men grabbed Dane by the arms and drag him away. Dane tried to call for help, he tried to run or fire the gun that he was still holding in his hand – but he couldn't move a single muscle and soon everything faded into darkness.
