Becoming Miss Lee

Chapter 8 - To Catch a Spy

Spying, I learned, was much harder than it was originally presented to me, and far more stressful. The trickiest part of being a spy was knowing who could find out that you were and building the perfect façade against them. No one would think of suspecting a woman, who was young, pretty, and flirting about with Clinton and other noted British officers. She could blend in, melt into a scene with grace and ease because she knew how to be a civilian. If you are not trained to stand straight, to march everywhere, to respond in a military manner, then you look natural, and what is more natural and relaxed than a woman, glass of wine in hand, reclining casually beside an officer who is slowly becoming drunk, striking up conversation with anyone and everyone about useless little topics like the weather? No man ever suspects a woman. Not a single man, and if they did, it was their sole duty to catch spies. I had what it took to remain anonymous forever around regular officers. Nathan, however... That is why I worked with them and he remained incognito among the regular townspeople. Together, we had a two man network that worked perfectly between us. No one suspected me, no one suspected him, and we gathered our bits of information slowly and meticulously. I quickly learned that nothing spilled more information than a drunken gloating officer.

I could get Nathan any basic piece of information that his little patriotic heart desired after a couple glasses of wine and some pouting. I never had to sleep with anyone, nor did I have to tempt them with the prospect. No, I simply pouted, sighed, and flattered my way into their information. Naturally, asking detailed questions about troop movements or such was completely out of the question, but no one would think anything of me clinging to General Clinton's arm and begging him to tell me where he was to go next and if I could write to him there. Well, except maybe my uncle. See, the problem was, I would have to be a little more careful when a new officer arrived because you never knew exactly what kind of officer they were or what experience they had with spies. Most of them were men who would never have been able to even remotely guess who I actually was, but my well placed image was in jeopardy the second I heard the name Robert Rogers.

It was not a name that you wanted to hear if you were on the opposing side. He was a fearsome man and the Natives did not call him The White Devil for show. He was a cold blooded killer, and no man was better at sniffing out a rat than him. Upon hearing that he was in New York, I immediately set up a meeting with Nathan. I had to warn him. We met out behind the local tavern the night that I found out, the 19th of September. "Nathan, I have news, and I cannot say that it is particularly, well, good."

"What sort of news?" He immediately began to look concerned. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I am fine, yes, but... Robert Rogers is in New York."

"The Robert Rogers? Wait, does he even have a side?" Nathan asked and I gave a helpless shrug. "Listen to me: be extra careful in case he does. Make sure that you do not let any of your accent slip through at all if he is around, do you understand. I will tread lightly myself. I would not want to come across him..." He grabbed my arms gently and rubbed them against the cold, "Be careful, Bea." I smiled at him and gave a nod. He needed some level of reassurance that I was not going to do anything too stupid. I was, however, a Lee, and if there was one thing that we did well, it was do stupid things.

-

I found myself in a rather prickly bind at an officer's party not more than a night later when I was in the same room as Rogers himself. Both my uncle and I had been invited and I was almost looking forward to attending, but when I walked in, it was more than the regular officers standing there. Indeed, I recognized Rogers right away, but I tried to pretend I did not notice until Clinton absconded me and pulled me aside, "Good evening, Miss Fisher. I figured I would get to you before bloody Rogers got his hands on you." If Clinton was concerned, then I knew that I had quite the reason to be concerned.