The Traitor's Stain (wattys 2019)

Chapter Forty-Three: Setauket, Long Island

The barn was freezing cold, even with Ophelia's shawl, and she could tell that Anna, Selah, and Abraham shared in that sentiment. Their breath rose like smoke in the chill air, and the lantern in Caleb's hand wasn't near enough to warm them up.

"Caleb: why, of all places on God's green earth, did you pick this barn as our meeting place for tonight?" Selah asked as he rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm himself up. "My tavern isn't far from here. Hell, we even could've gone to Ophelia's!"

"And you think we could've done that without anyone being suspicious?" Caleb asked.

"A group of close friends escaping a stuffy party to go to a tavern seems a lot less suspicious than all of them going to a barn in the middle of the night," Anna pointed out. "Likely would've been a lot warmer, too."

"You know, we can keep sitting here, talking about how terrible of a decision coming to this barn was, or we can hurry and talk about what we came to talk about in the first place, and you guys can get back to your nice, warm party," Caleb said. "What do you choose?"

Nobody said anything else.

"Good," Caleb said. "Now, let's cut to the chase: the high command is worried about a traitor. They want everyone in all of our networks to keep an eye out. Especially our people in New York."

The mood immediately darkened. Everyone looked around at one another, unsure of just what that meant for all of them.

"Why do they think that?" Ophelia asked. "And why New York, of all places?"

"I think pretty much everywhere is at high risk for this," Caleb said.

"I mean, why is Washington fixated on New York?" Ophelia asked. "Is there something special going on there that isn't going on in other places? Like you said: there could be traitors anywhere. Is there something that makes Washington particularly concerned about New York?"

"Right." Caleb bent down and began to draw something in the dirt with his finger. It appeared to be Manhattan and mainland New York. "The British have Manhattan, but so far, we've done a pretty good job at keeping the British out of the rest of the state. And that's because we control West Point up here." Caleb drew an "x" in the dirt, right where, Ophelia assumed, West Point was. "You see, whoever has West Point controls the Hudson. If the British were to take it, they would take the River, and they'd be able to cut the states in half."

Ophelia nodded in understanding, as did the rest of the group. "That wouldn't be very good, would it?"

"Think of how far we've come since the beginning days," Selah said. "If they could manage that, all that progress - everything we've been able to achieve since Saratoga - would be for naught."

Her stomach turned. "How can we help?"

"Ben's going to be conducting an investigation with Alexander and our people in the city," Caleb said. "You guys need to keep a close eye on troop strength. You're pretty close to the mouth of the Hudson, here; this could be a potential staging area for an attack on West Point."

Ophelia nodded. She knew what to look for; it was the same things she'd looked for when they launched their attack on the HMS Harbinger: large amounts of supplies, news from Erikson that they were going to be moving troops, soon. As far as she knew, everyone still thought that she was neutral in the war; the only people who knew that the death of her husband had changed her views completely were standing around her.

"We'll do it," Ophelia said.

"Great," Caleb said. "You guys better get back to the party; you've been away too long, already."