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(Warnings: walking, Jefferson practicing a French accent, screaming af, dark streets, swat teams, gunshots, car accidents, cuts and wounds)
(F/n POV)
Lafayette and Jefferson changed clothes, and besides their voices, you couldn't tell them apart. Lafayette had semi-lighter skin, but on this dark two in the morning environment, I'm sure that wouldn't be noticed.

Lafayette strained himself, staring off in the direction we needed to walk as the cold Hudson river's wind whipped around in the night. He narrowed his eyes. "I wonder what he wants with me..."

"Probably to kill you." Laurens replied in a very nonchalant tone. "I wouldn't know why... but maybe he just...I dunno, hates you?"

Lafayette nodded, "That sounds about right." He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

Jefferson was pulling Lafayette's shirt on over a bullet proof vest, "So, I just have to get his attention and run so Lafayette can get in and get Y/n out of there? What about the rest of you?"

"Some of you are going to go with the swat teams to different locations around the building after we find it. We're speculating this could be an abandoned apartment about a mile and a half from here." I opened up my laptop and showed them the picture the person in intelligence sent me.

James was staring at the city across the river, shivering in the wind. I sighed and left my laptop next to the numerous police cars. I walked over to him and stood next to him. "Back at the apartment you said this is overwhelming to you... But, don't you think running a war with no military experience prior to is more stressful than a simple search and rescue?"

He seemed to ponder the question. "Don't get me wrong, that war definitely contributed to my hair greying...but, this? I'm on the front lines... it may only be one girl, but this girl is...well rather important to me. America is very, very important to me as well, but I was never actually fighting the war. I was behind a desk, in a safe haven, making decisions. I've never shot a gun at anything but a fox or deer, but this is a different type of stress. I've developed...feelings... to protect Y/n, like America. She is America... she took me in, allowed me to stay, and I want to fight to save her, just like all those brave people did in 1812, and are still doing today, like you. I have to be the soldier." He leaned forward against the rail and pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed. "And that scares me, because I'm just weak... Sickly, and old." He almost seemed embarrassed to admit all this.

I pursed my lips and stared at him. He reached out and touched is shoulder. "We're...going to get her back..."

He didn't react immediately. "I hope."

I know now... in the back of my head I was thinking that these men were tough as nails. Some of them at least, especially Mulligan! They witnessed a fucking war, even worse than any of the wars of today's world. They're freaking out over a Cannibal kid napping one girl because this girl was special to them. Their best friend. For the matter, my best friend. Since diapers.

Lafayette. He was distraught and distracted. He had been badly injured before, seen so much blood. Commanded numerous people whom he never saw leave the clouds of cannon smoke. According to him, he was the first of this group to meet Y/n.

Alexander. Shot through the fucking chest, ready to take it again. He lost a child, experienced severe emotional trauma and outran a hurricane along with the British forces.

Aaron. Cold as stone, but dying in the inside. He had seen just as much blood shed as the next. I can tell her feels betrayed. He liked Bf/n as a person, and as soon as he started catching on, he wanted to duel again!

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