Zero Two Three One | John Laurens X Reader [Hamilton]

XVI: Fourteen Days and a Fire

❝Light a campfire and everyone's a storyteller.❞
—John J. Geddes

A couple of days after we heard the special broadcast on the radio, we were geared back up with all our advance equipment and ready to head into the thick of things. Our backpacks are filled with the necessities of a sure-to-be-long mission in a cold-weather environment: mittens, goggles, a blanket, civilian clothes, an over white camo uniform, a tarpaulin, over boots, snowshoes, water bottles, MREs, midday rations, an individual first aid kit, and a sleeping bag. It's heavy as all hell, and that's not even the start of it.

On our body, uniform, and belts, we carry an assortment of weapons: our TFX, two pistols, a flaregun, grenades, and a small dagger. We have an abundance of ammunition for these weapons as well. It's times like this when I feel bad for people like Rory, who has to carry the infamously-heavy RYG Rocket Launcher, or Peggy and Vincent, who carry snipers. And yet, I still envy them, for Alexander and I have yet to be issued Wings.

Our armor is particularly important, as it protects our torso. It's far stronger than the armor the normal soldiers get... as long as it doesn't get damaged. Our shields are strapped to our arm, ready for ejection at a moment's notice.

We're lined up in front of the lot of Ocelots, prepared to hop into the back of the vehicles and drive to Moscow to assist in the fighting. It's what we've been waiting for: action. We came here to fight, and waiting for those Russians in Ukraine to mosey out of there is tiresome.

Whispers have been going around. People think Russians are going to invade Moscow today. We're waiting for a message to come in from Washington directing us to join the soldiers in Moscow. As it stands, Burr and Davidson left an hour and a half ago to deliver to and receive a message from George Washington regarding our responsibilities.

We're simply waiting for Burr to return and tell us to saddle the fuck up.

Lee, Lafayette, and John converse privately in the middle of the sea of Ocelots, but even from this distance, I can tell they're arguing. What could they possibly be arguing about?! And of all times, why now?! If we're going into battle, we need to be united, not divided over some petty personal affairs!

It annoys me, but I don't say a word. Instead, I act as though I am engaged in the conversation going on around me. Most of the soldiers talk about what they plan to do in Moscow, but my group talks about something completely different.

"I didn't say anything other than he's a shady guy," Vincent says with a dismissive shrug, fixing the night vision goggles over his helmet.

"There's nothing shady about him!" Peggy argues back. Ah, they must be talking about Burr.

"I don't know," Alexander hops in. "He seems like a self-benefit-seeking bastard to me."

"I agree with the Russki," Rory nods. "You've seen the look in his eyes, yeah? He probably sees you as a ticket to one of your sisters."

"He's not to be trusted," Vincent concludes.

"Vincent, you shouldn't be saying who can and can't be trusted," Peggy scowls. "You once didn't trust your mom because you thought she was a Russian spy!"

"That was when I was younger," Vincent dismisses, sounding somewhat embarrassed. "I thought everyone was a spy back then. Now I'm older and wiser, and I'm telling you that Burr is the type to kill an innocent man for self-gain."

"You're just jealous."

"Of what, Peggy?" Vincent asks, raising a brow.

Peggy places her hand over her chin in thought, then pouts in frustration. "I don't know yet, but I'll it figure out."