The plan worked beautifully at first. I went in to see Marty, to tell him that I had tracked down the group of spies. They had headed for the Blue RIver as reported. When they reached it, the group spilt up, some heading north, the others heading south.
My story was spun so wonderfully that Marty jumped up out of his seat, ready to go catch the spies single-handedly. I told him that we needed help. We should gather the men, get organized, and head out as soon as possible.
He seemed to agree, so we left the office. We walked down the road toward the tavern where a lot of the men would be gathering to drink. I continued to spin a wonderful tale, a tale so believable that I would have believed it myself had I not known the truth.
I was amazed how easy it had been to get him out of the office. I had worried that he wouldn't believe me or that he wouldn't care. The spies were out of his hair, after all. The next town or army brigade could take care of them. My cover was going to stay in tact; a brief smile was the only witness to that thought. But, Marty saw it.
"What are you smiling at?" He asked, taking no further steps toward the tavern. My answer wasn't quick enough. I could see his demenour change as I tried to tell him that I was happy that we were going to finally do something about this insidious insurrgency. My answer was obviously suspect.
"You're right," he said, turning back toward the office. "It is high time we did something." He padded the hilt of his sword, which was hanging from his waist. "I have my long sword, but I need my dagger. This is going to be a dangerous mission."
He started walking back toward the office. I tried to stop him. I even grabbed him by the arm at one point. I reasoned that there was no time to waste. There would be another dagger. But, he insisted that his dagger was the only one that could protect him. Apparantly, it had been in his family for several generations. I wasn't sure if I believed his tale, but there wasn't much I could do about it.
Here I was now - bleeding, my cover blown. The girls were in danger. My Katrina was in danger. There was no way that I was going to let Marty out of his office. I would give my life to stop him. But, he had had the upper hand in our struggle. My youth seemed to do nothing for me.
One of the girls had knocked Marty over the head, which caused him to fall to the ground. This was my moment to strike. I had no weapon, though.
"Jon, are you all right?" Katrina asked, kneeling at my side.
"Yeah," I replied, trying to get up but failing to do so. I had not forgotten Marty, though. "We need to get out of here. Now!"
Marty was back up on his feet by this moment. I motioned for the girls to get out of the way. Then I saw a dagger on the ground no more than a foot away from me. It seemed to be in an odd place, but then again, the rest of the room was in disarray. Katrina and Nellie must have ransacked it. A brief smile caught Marty's eye once again.
"What are you smiling at, Traitor?" Marty's question was delivered with as much hatred as I had ever heard come from a Loyalist. But, my reply was not in words.
In one swift motion I grabbed the dagger with my closest hand. My army training was worth it in the end, despite how much I had hated it. The dagger flew threw the air. Marty barely had time to react, his expression one of horror as the dagger struck him in his chest, stopping his heart on the spot, for he fell to the ground, dead as a pidgeon struck down by an arrow.
The girls reacted in horror themselves, but when I smiled at them, they calmed down quickly. They must have realized that I had no other alternative. For our mission to be a continued success, this particular loose end could not be allowed to unravel the rest of the rope.
Katrina and Nellie helped me to my feet. We hobbled out of the office, quickly turning the corner to head to the back of the building to get away from plain view. Thankfully, the village had not be alarmed to what was going on.
As we made our way to the back of the building, I looked up and saw a carrier pidgeon flying over head. I sighed, hoping the news from our comrades would be good news.