❝A liar begins with making falsehood appear like truth, and ends with making truth itself appear like falsehood.❞
—William Shenstone
"They're soldiers, not dogsitters."
"They're soldiers who happen to dogsit my dog, bloke."
"Why do both of them need to be here then?"
"No one should ever be left alone, don't you agree?"
Admiral Hopkins gives Lee a dubious glare, then he turns his nose on him. "Alright, Lee. But I need them to be away from the conference room."
"Righteo, mate," Lee nods. "They'll just be watching the gogglebox."
"They better."
And with that, Admiral Hopkins strides away, entering the conference room. Admiral Whipple shortly follows.
"I don't see why they can't join our wee meeting," Hercules scoffs.
"There are obvious reasons, don't you think?" Burr murmurs, glancing at Alexander for a moment.
Burr and Hercules enter the conference room.
"My dad didn't mean to sound so harsh," Susannah says, more so to Alexander than to me. "He's just been so uptight recently about some things! I'll see if I can get him to apologize."
"No, that's alright," Alexander quickly says. "I'm used to that sort of treatment."
Susannah smiles somewhat flirtatiously, then she tugs on John's sleeve. "Well, we best be going, right John?"
"Uh, yeah. See you two later," John says before getting pulled to join the others.
For a moment, I expect Admiral Richard Howe to be the next one to say something. But then I remembered he isn't currently present, and he won't be joining the meeting today. I think I overheard Burr saying something about him radioing up some people in Britain... I'm not sure.
That leaves Alexander and me alone with Lee and Hermes. We endure a brief moment of silence.
December 3, 2058.
We're in the small house on the harbor, and a meeting between the higher-ups is about to begin.
"Well, you know the plan, right?" Lee asks, running his hand through his perfectly-done hair (you'd think Jesus himself styled Lee'shair every morning).
"Yeah," I nod, flashing a confident smile. "Hopefully we don't get caught or we'll both be in the shit."
"If we do, I'm willing to take the blame," Lee huffs, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It was my idea anyway, bird."
"Good point," I nod. "You better join the rest or they'll be suspicious."
"Yup," he nods. He whistles to Hermes and pats the couch in front of the TV. The large, wolf-like German Shepherd hops happily onto the cushions, his tail wagging and tongue hanging out as Lee turns on the TV and sets it to the channel with the dog's favorite show.
"But Hermes gets lonely without me, so I'll need you to watch Hermes while I'm in the meeting."
"Got it."
He turns back to Hermes and holds out his arms. The dog, as if knowing well what Lee wants, stands on his hind legs and leans into Lee, hugging him. I'm momentarily amazed.
"Dad will be back, okay? Be a good boy while dad is gone!"
Hermes whines and licks Lee.
"Dad will miss you every minute!" He plants a kiss on the top of Hermes's head, then they depart dramatically. Lee trudges into the conference room, and then he closes the door, shutting Alexander and me out of the meeting.
Alexander chuckles in amusement when Lee is gone. "You'd think he gave birth to that dog."
"Leave him alone," I wave off.
Alexander and I sit on opposite sides of the couch, Hermes in between us.
"So, mind telling me what the hell is happening?" Alexander asks.
Right, Alexander has no idea what we're doing here. This is a plan Lee and I made together, and I just happened to rope Alexander into it. I suppose I should inform him before the plan is set into action.
"Okay, remember when I told you that Lee said he doesn't trust Susannah?" I asked, swinging my TFX off my shoulder and leaning it against the couch.
Alexander raises a brow. "I remember that, but I didn't think he meant. I mean, Susannah seems like a pretty nice chick."
I nearly groan in annoyance. "You only think that because you think she's hot."
"Well, she is."
"Shut up, that's not the point," I hiss, recalling when Susannah stole John and Alexander away two days ago. It took a little bit of prying, but I eventually got Alexander to confirm that they didn't have a threesome. Nevertheless, he refused to tell me what they did instead.
"I just think it's unreasonable to assume there's something off with Susannah," Alexander shrugs, stiffening when Hermes lays on top of him. "She's done nothing to raise any brows."
"That's the thing," I say, pointing a finger and Alexander. "They had a surprise meeting last night. Lee wouldn't give me many details, but it has something to do with Brazil. Well, Lee said that Susannah said some pretty suspicious things during that meeting."
"Did she really?" Alexander inquires, sounding doubtful. "Why did no one get suspicious then?"
"Because everyone else in that room is up her vagina!" I cry out quietly. "Whipple and Hercules respect her. Burr wouldn't dare question her. John is trying to fuck her. And Hopkins is her fucking dad. The only person in that room who hasn't fallen for her manipulative bullcrap is Lee."
Alexander pauses as if to let it sink in. Then he shakes his head. "I think Lee is just being paranoid."
"Ugh!" I groan. "Okay, believe what you want! You're going to feel really stupid when it turns out Susannah is secretly a spy."
"Do you even hear yourself? That's completely illogical! I think you're just jealous of Susannah."
I glare at Alexander, tempted to slap him from suggesting such a thing... Even if he's right.
"Just shut up and watch the dog, Alexander."
From my pocket, I pull out my phone. Alexander raises his brow. "You're not supposed to have that on you."
"I know," I say. "But it's all apart of the plan. At some point during the meeting, Lee is going to call me discreetly and I'll answer."
"Lee gave you his number?"
"Yes."
"Charles Lee... gave you his phone number?!"
"Yes, Alex!"
He grimaces.
"Cyka blyat."
I know what he's thinking.
"Shut up, Alex. It's not a big deal. He has a girlfriend."
"I still don't like the fact that he gave you his number. It sounds like a thought-out plan to send you pictures of his dick. Delete his number."
"No."
"(Y/N)-"
"Shut up. Point is, when I answer his call, I'll be able to hear everything being said in the meeting."
"And the whole point of this is to...?"
"Listen for damning things Susannah says. Lee needs someone to back him up on his suspicions. He needs someone willing to investigate with the information we hear."
"So Lee hired us to be private investigators."
"Correction. He hired me to be a private investigator. He hired you to be a dogsitter."
Alexander gives me an unamused glare. "Funny. So how are you getting paid."
"I'm not."
Truth is, getting some sort of dirt on Susannah is payment enough for me. If I can dig deep into this whole ordeal, maybe I can get Susannah in some trouble... Then she'll be out of the John equation.
Alexander attempts to push Hermes' head off his lap, but when he tries, Hermes growls. He gives up.
"What if we end up empty-handed?" Alexander asks. "And we most likely will, as there is nothing off about Susannah."
I don't get it. Alexander is always so quick to doubt the candor and authenticity of everyone he meets. So why is that sea-eyed bitch an exception? Maybe Alexander wants to believe, as I did with John, that the warning signs were false.
Maybe Alexander sees Susannah the way I see John: a temporary escape from the reality of our mission.
"We won't be empty-handed," I say, clutching onto my phone. "I know it."
For the next twenty minutes, I pace around the room anxiously, my phone in my hand as I wait for it to begin buzzing. I listen to the sounds of Hermes' cartoon in the background, getting slightly annoyed every time the characters ask the audience a question ("Where is the red apple?") and Hermes responds with a soft bark.
Alexander, who got so bored he resorted to watching the show, is equally annoyed ("The apple is right in front of you, you stupid, ugly, football-head, googly-eyed bitch. Cyka blyat.")
I knew it might be a while until Lee contacts me; he said he'd only call when the meeting swerved into a conversation that Lee suspected would draw suspicious speech from Susannah. But the longer I wait, the more anxious I get.
What if Alexander is right? What if Susannah really is as innocent as she portrays herself to be? What if Lee and I are slipping down a slippery slope that leads off the edge of a mountain? What if I'm heading off a dead end?
Then Susannah will have won our game. Then I'll be in a corner with no more moves or pieces, and it will be Susannah's turn to make a move. Then it will be game over.
I can't let that happen. As Alexander once told me: "When you got skin in the game, you stay in the game; but you don't get a win unless you play in the game."
As if on cue, the phone in my hand vibrates. I look down, seeing that it's a call from Lee, just as I had been anticipating.
I answer immediately and put it on speakerphone, standing in the middle of the room. Alexander, noticing that the call we've been impending has arrived, turns the volume down of the show. Hermes, who seems to be falling asleep, doesn't notice.
I don't wait for Lee to hit me with a "Hey, bird" or anything. He isn't going to. I'm supposed to be listening privately. Lee probably has his phone hidden under the conference table, away from the eyes of others.
I listen carefully, my heart pounding with the knowledge that what we're doing is borderline illegal. The voices come in shortly after, and I'm surprised by my ability to distinguish each speaker.
"This isn't a matter of if it's going to happen, but when. Well, that's how I interpreted it," Burr says, sounding serious and smart.
"The information was a wee hard to decode, but the message was clear."
"But this can't be confirmed, can it?" Susannah says.
Even if I don't know what they are talking about, I immediately interpret Susannah's words as suspicious.
"In theory, no," Burr says. "But nothing of such a large scale can be proved easily, especially without finding out."
"Which is why we need to sail over to Brazil and raid the bloody country," Lee reasons, his voice much louder than the others considering his proximity to the phone. There is a long pause, then, as if realizing that I will be lost on the content of the conversation without an explanation, Lee nonchalantly slides in a summary of the topic at hand. "If the messages Mulligan decoded are true — that Thomas Castle is in the capital of Brazil — then we can't waste a bloody moment! We have to save him!"
Alexander and I look to one another, intrigue glinting in our eyes. "Capital of Brazil?"
"That's Brasilia," Alexander coos, placing a hand on his chin. How the hell does he know that?
"Searches have been conducted throughout several Voyna countries," Burr adds. "Brazil, however, has never been searched."
"I don't think that matters," Susannah says quickly, her voice seeming to stand out among others. Every word she says is one I weigh on the scales of justice. "Brazil has been largely out of the picture of the war after the attack on Cuba when they evacuated all the Cubans."
"Fair point," Whipple says, being the untalkative chap he has been described as.
"If we send the Navy over to Brazil, we'll be putting a lot of our men in the crosshairs of their torpedos," Susannah continues. "It just doesn't seem worth it."
"But we have evidence that Castle is in Brazil! They're probably torturing the poor bloke!"
"What Susannah suggested earlier is right," Admiral Hopkins says. "It's best if the Navy hunkers down in Cuba a while longer... at least until more information comes out."
"That could take months," Hercules informs politely. "It will be a wee while before new documents can be passed my way."
"Then we can wait months," Hopkins says sternly.
"I hope you're aware that Castle very well may be dead by then," Burr says as though it were genuinely a fact no one considered.
"A fruitless raid of Brazil won't save Castle," Susannah says. "If they want him dead, they'll kill him with a blunt pencil if they have to as soon as they see our ships sailing in."
"I agree with the Admiral and his Vice," John suddenly jumps in, breaking his previous silence. I nearly screech out in anger. Are you fucking kidding me?
The Hopkins duo of fuckery is trying to completely dismiss the fact that Castle is in dire need of help, and John backs them up?! On what basis does he agree with Susannah? Her tits?!
"Thanks, John," Susannah coos happily.
"'Course you'd agree with the slag," Lee says. I can practically feel him roll his eyes through the phone.
"What does that mean?" John challenges.
"You know what I bloody mean, horse fucker."
"Charles, remain professional," Burr murmurs lowly.
"Washington is aware of this ordeal, isn't he?" Hopkins asks.
"Yeah," Hercules answers. "Well, I suppose it might take a wee bit of time for the news to get from his aides to him, but he'll know shortly."
"Good," Susannah says. "We can send another message and demand that the Navy be left out of the situation."
"If the Navy doesn't get to Castle, who is?" Lee hisses.
"That's a predicament, isn't it?" Susannah giggles. "I'm sure the AC can figure it out. Personally, I want the normal Navy out of the ordeal."
"Why the hell are you unwilling to help?" Lee growls. "Do you know how many people have already died in search of Castle?!"
"Sounds like we don't want to add to the body count," Admiral Hopkins says.
"Fair point," Whipple says.
"We need Castle!"
"I don't," Susannah nearly laughs. "The Navy doesn't. All of America doesn't. It sounds like a thing the British should sort out. I say we stay far away from Brazil."
This is highly suspicious. Is this what Lee meant when he told me Susannah was acting odd yesterday? There is no way a Vice Admiral should be saying all of this! Everyone in the goddamn world knows that Thomas Castle is essential to the fight against the Voynas; he's the George Washington of Britain: smart, skilled, and trusted.
If Castle isn't found...
As it stands, the people still do not know of the disappearance of Castle. It's only a matter of time before they do find out. Then there will be chaos across the globe. We need to find Castle, and yet, Susannah insists that Brazil remains unharmed. She's moving the target as far away from that country as possible. Why?
I glance at Alexander, doing my best to read his expression, but as always, I have a hard time translating what he feels. I wish he would be more open to me. He sits in silence, one hand on Hermes' head and the other under his chin. His violet eyes glimmer with the slightest glint of distress.
I watch as he drags his hand upward and to his mouth, gnawing on his thumb knuckle.
He's anxious. About what? That Susannah really isn't who she tried to convince him she was? That we won't come out of this call empty-handed?
"So Castle doesn't bloody exist anymore, does he?" Lee sneers.
"As far as I'm concerned, no," Susannah says in an uptight tone. I can sense that she is trying hard to contain her disdain for Lee, and the source of her disdain is obvious: Lee doesn't fall to his knees for her.
As Susannah's words sink in, Lee seems to lose all control and restraint.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!"
Admiral Hopkins is quick to jump on.
"Don't talk to my daughter like that!"
"I'll talk to anyone however the bloody hell I want!"
"Charles, stop it," Burr demands quietly.
"No! The Commander in Chief of the entire British Military is in the hands of these bloody Brazilians and these cunts want to act like it ain't a big bloody deal!"
"What did you call us?!" Hopkins roars.
"I called you a bloody fucking cunt, cunt!"
"Dad, just drop it. The British are always dramatic... Lee, in particular, reminds me of my second-grade school mates."
"Fuck you, slapper! You useless sack of fucking Yankee dankee doodle shite."
"Charles! Stop!"
"I dare you to talk to my daughter like that one more time!"
"Fuck you too, Hopkins!"
"This is fierce," Hercules chuckles. "I hope a fight breaks out."
"Fair point," Whipple says.
"I owe no respect to you pussy twats!"
"Fuck off, teabag!" John growls, defending the Hopkin pair.
"Suck my monstrous cock, Laurens! If you're going to side with the Voyna sympathizers, then bugger off!"
"What did you call us?!"
"You heard me! Complain to Washington for all I fucking care! Tell him I'm being a bloody rude bloke! I give not a single shit, twats!"
I inwardly cheer Lee on, begging him to keep tearing into the Hopkins. Ram those fuckers into the ground.
"Charles, I swear to God I'm going to-"
"Don't you get it, Aaron?" Lee interrupts. "These wankers are against us."
"That's insane," Hopkins says.
"If you're not against the Allies, then go to Brazil and get Castle," Lee demands. "As it stands, only the Navy can do it. Request permission from Washington."
"We're staying away from Brazil," Susannah says sternly, her usual-girly tone dropping into one of bullying.
"Because you're Voyna sympathizers," Lee says, his tone scaling back as though to end the confrontation.
"We are not," Hopkins repeats. I'm surprised that Susannah has yet to deny this claim.
"I can arrange for your departure from here. All of you — both the British and American AC — can be gone in about a week," Susannah says. Is she trying to threaten Lee? If so, he doesn't take the bait.
"Go right ahead, cunt! I don't want to hear your bloody voice any longer than I have to."
Susannah stays silent.
"I hope you're fuckin' proud of yourself, Lee," John hisses. "You're makin' us all look bad! Was it worth it?!"
"You tell me, twat! Will it be worth Castle fucking dying if it means you get to explore this whore's pussy?!"
The room erupts into chaos from all sides. From the middle of it, I hear Burr groaning in annoyance; the sounds of a man who's been through this bullshit too many times before. I hear Hercules chant "Go at it!"; the sounds of an innocent instigator. Most sinisterly of all, I hear Susannah giggling; the sounds of my opponent.
Did she want this? Does she hope by stirring chaos, she'll get what she wants?
I understand now, but it's a little too late: this meeting was Susannah making her move, and she's taken one of my pieces.
It's all too much to bear; the shouting, fighting, and swearing give me a headache. Frankly, nothing more can come from this exchange. It has transformed into an insult contest!
With a heavy heart and fuzzy mind, I end the call.
The eerie silence that follows feels like a stab to the chest. I stare at my lock screen for a few seconds. I changed my lock screen background to a picture of Alexander reading taken when we were in New York for our break (right before we got deployed into Russia.) I almost forgot about this picture.
The screen turns dark, giving me a clear view of my reflection. I look into my eyes for several seconds, unsure of what I'm looking for. I don't find anything worth living inside my eyes. I bite my lip, hating how I look like a girl who is losing a childish game.
I take a deep breath, shoving my phone into my pocket. I glance at Alexander, surprised he had his eyes trained on me intently, still gnawing on his knuckle. Does he see that I'm losing the game as well? Even if he's unaware of the game?
"Alexander, I-"
"We need to investigate further," he interrupts, finally pushing the head of Hermes off of him successfully, replacing his leg with a pillow for the sleeping dog.
I take a step back when Alexander stands to his feet. "What are you talking about?"
"You were right, (Y/N)," Alexander coos, his voice laced with guilt and slight embarrassment.
Alexander seldom admits that someone else is right, so I take this moment very fondly. I can't help but butter it up and milk it dry. "Right about what, Alexander?"
"About Susannah... She's suspicious, and we need to investigate."
"Why the sudden change of heart?" I raise a brow.
Alexander shyly stuffs his hands in his pockets, but not before I can notice the red mark on his knuckle. "My intellect can't be beaten. Not even by Susannah. After hearing what she said, I can sense there's something off about her."
I reach for Alexander's wrist, pulling his hand out of his pocket and inspecting the red mark he left on his knuckle.
"So you stopped thinking with your dick?"
"If that's how you want to put it, then yes."
I smile fondly at him, relieved that Alexander has finally seen the light. "Good. Now what?"
"If there is something off about Susannah, we have to dig deeper and find damning evidence. Tangible evidence; we can't trap ourselves in a he said, she said situation."
I gingerly rub the reddened skin of his knuckle, hoping to ease some of the pain it is likely causing him. I act as though I don't notice when Alexander reaches for my free hand with his.
"So what's the plan?"
"No idea," Alexander admits. "But I have a hunch of where we can find some information we might want."
"Is it somewhere we shouldn't be?"
"Yes."
"Then it sounds like the perfect place to start."
"We should go now then," Alexander says, gently tugging my hand.
I offer Alexander a kind smile, then shake my head. "We can't leave just yet. We have a dog to dogsit, Alexander."
♙♟♙♟♙
December 4, 2058.
"This is such a pretty sunset," Peggy sighs blissfully, closing her eyes in contentment.
"I guess it is," Rory agrees.
I gaze up to the sky, swayed into a state of awe at the vibrant and rich hues of red, orange, and purple blending together like a perfect piece of art. Yellow light strains through the clouds, scattered few and far between, turning the white cotton into deep crimson colors. The ocean seems to reflect all this beauty, the water dancing in the light and colors. The sunset itself is a final battle cry from the sun. It expels all its remaining energy, providing the world with a reminder of its beauty before it is drowned out by the ocean along the horizon. Succumbed to the deepness we have yet to explore. The ocean and the sun kiss, and the sun dies.
The feeling of tranquility fills me to the brim. It's intoxicating. The warm breeze I inhale seems to get me high off serenity while caressing my exposed skin. It whispers songs in my ears, giving me salty laughs that make my stomach twist with joy.
I fixate my gaze to Alexander on my right, smiling at the sight. He seems to be enjoying this moment as much as the rest of us are, a charming smile bound on his benign expression. His auburn hair — looking redder than it normally does with the right lighting — is tousled in the slightest with the breeze, and he makes no attempt to fix it. Hmm, his hair is getting a little long. It's cute in a funny sort of way.
Alexander catches my eyes, smiling brighter at me. "I'm a national treasure, aren't I?"
I scoff and stick out my tongue at him, which he quickly returns with a childish chuckle.
"The universe sure has blessed you, hasn't it?" I roll my eyes playfully, wondering how Alexander could appear so aesthetic. I probably look like something that crawled out of the ocean.
"It blessed you too, (Y/N)," Alexander whispers.
"How so?" I smirk.
"Well, you have me, don't you? What better blessing could you ever ask for?"
I smack the back of Alexander's head.
"Cyka blyat."
"I'm in a good mood. Don't ruin it for me, Alex. Not yet."
And I meant it. I haven't smiled like this in a long time. This type of relaxation is hard to come by while on deployment.
I've tried to forget everything Alexander and I heard yesterday, figuring there is nothing I can do without being mobilized to do so. Instead, Alexander and I spent the majority of the day with Peggy and Rory, enjoying their company and companionship... ignoring the fact that this friendship isn't completely real.
We are sitting on the edge of the harbor, a bit away from where the ships are docked. I can see the Navy soldiers on their ships, doing maintenance throwing taunts at the nearby AC troops. There isn't much love between the AC and the Navy it seems. Rory is one of the main instigators, mocking the sailors viciously when the opportunity presents himself; it reminds me of the way he used to fuck with Alexander and me.
This morning, two more British ships docked into the harbor. It looks like the British may be making a full movement here, but that is irrelevant.
"I think I want to get married by the ocean," Peggy smiles.
"Bold of you to assume you're going to get married, yeah?" Rory teases.
"Rude," Peggy clicks her tongue.
Peggy, sitting to my left, looks down to her lap for a moment, twirling a strand of her hair. She whispers something under her breath, clearly not intended for anyone else's ears, but I hear it nonetheless.
"Vincent loves the ocean."
Loves. Not loved. She talks about him as though he's still alive. It's somewhat heartbreaking.
I avoid commenting on this and occupy myself by leaning on Alexander's shoulder. "Getting married by the ocean sounds nice."
"You are not getting married by the ocean," Alexander murmurs to me.
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"Since when were you my mom?"
"If you get married by the ocean, I'm not going."
"But you have to go."
"Why?"
I don't answer the question because my only response is a stupid one. Alexander takes note and makes another remark.
"We probably won't live long enough to get married."
I sigh heavily. He's right. And even if we do, who would love me? After everything I'm planning to do. After all the lying I will do to get there. Who can love someone that has been lying to them? Who can love someone who they don't know? Who can love me?
"Am I invited to your wedding, Rory?" Peggy asks innocently, nudging Rory lightheartedly.
"Umm, I'm not engaged."
"Yet," Peggy winks. "Look, you're the only one out of us who has an actual partner. You're probably going to get married first."
"Well..." Rory trails off nervously.
"I want to meet your girlfriend!"
"I'll think about it, Peggy."
"Livonia is her name, right?" Peggy smiles.
"Yeah."
"Think she misses you?"
Rory laughs. "I'm pretty sure she does. I mean, I hope."
Peggy stands to her feet, and we all look to her. "I'm a girl, okay?"
"Umm, yeah?" Rory raises a brow.
"And I know how girls think!"
"Okay."
"And I think Livonia would love some pictures of you on deployment! Especially with such a beautiful sunset! She'll store that in a photo album!"
"Peggy, don't tell me-"
"Photoshoot!"
Alexander and Rory groan in annoyance. I giggle. Nothing wrong with a little photo shoot, right? It's a good idea. While Alexander and Rory try to talk Peggy out of the idea, I sneak out my phone from my pocket. I shouldn't be using it, but...
I open the camera and snap a quick picture of the impressive sunset. I'll post that on my Instagram when we get off deployment. My followers will love it. It will be nice to keep in my memory.
Despite the men's best effort, Peggy skips off to find Molly Pitcher. Yeah, I'm still unsure why Molly carries around a camera. I don't know why she's allowed to. I don't know why she's taking pictures.
"Cyka blyat," Alexander hisses. "I hope she doesn't make us recreate Jesus's birth again."
"Go easy on her," I say. "She's just trying to keep everyone happy. She cares."
"She has an odd way of showing it, yeah?" Rory says.
"We need to find a way to slip out," Alexander murmurs.
As if God heard Alexander's words, he sends over a minion to whisk Alexander and me away from the scene before Peggy can return.
And that minion is in the form of Lee and Hermes.
They come out of nowhere, approaching us slowly and cautiously.
"Wotcha, Hamiltons?"
I nearly fall off the harbor and into the ocean out of surprise. I look over my shoulder, seeing the Englishman and his loyal dog standing a few feet behind us. Did he see me taking a picture? Considering how lenient Lee is with me, I'm not too concerned, but...
"Hey," I greet shyly.
Lee's obsidian-colored eyes dart left and right as if to make sure no one is around. Then he places one hand in his pocket and speaks again.
"Burr didn't want me spreading information, but I figured there's no harm in telling you two," he starts. "A thing came up, and I think we might need your help, Hamilton."
Alexander and I exchange a glance. "Which one?"
Lee blinks, then he lowers his tone even further. "Both of you. But keep it on the hush, righteo?"
Alexander and I slowly stand to our feet, mocking him to give him confirmation. "Righteo."
Lee pulls a small smile. "Ace, mates. Let's head off then, yes?"
Lee motions for Hermes to follow him, then he strides down the harbor, heading towards the dock to the ships. He didn't pay Rory much attention, and it looks like Alexander and I will be leaving him on his own.
"Ah, see you later," I say to Rory, giving him a quick wave. Before Rory can respond, Alexander grasps my wrist and pulls me along to keep up with Lee.
I keep my head down as we board one of the larger ships. This ship, the HMS Marigold, is the ship Admiral Richard Howe and Hercules Mulligan arrived in. What are we doing here?
Lee motions for us to hurry up as we pass by some British Navy AC sailors, and we follow him below deck. Frankly, I'm lost here. I've never spent much time on ships or anything like that. We pass by several rooms that I can't name. I pass people doing things I can't distinguish. I'm impressed by how spacious some locations are. I suppose I expected the below-deck space to be as small as the one from the USS Shannon.
We approach a door at the end of the hall, a golden plaque with the name "Richard Howe" inscribed on it. Is this his personal cabin?
Lee approaches the door first, then he knocks an odd pattern on the metal surface. There's quick shuffling inside, then the door slowly swings open.
Behind the door is Burr.
"Charles. You're finally here." Burr looks around Lee, and his expression drops when he sees Alexander and I shyly standing behind, rocking back and forth on our heels. "Why did you bring them?"
"Look, we could use help. Alright, mate?" Lee brushes. Without another word, Lee strides past Burr and into the room. Alexander and I stumble stupidly behind.
This room is a small office, compact but comfortable. A desk, a bookshelf, and a circular window looking out into the ocean. Sitting behind the desk, as should be expected, is Admiral Richard Howe. Standing nearby is Hercules Mulligan, his briefcase set upon the desk. Their eyes dart up to us upon our entrance.
"Wotcha, Lee!" Richard Howe greets.
"Wotcha, mate!" Lee responds.
"I see you brought along the Hamiltons," Richard Howe gives us a polite nod. We return it.
"Righteo," Lee nods. "Figured the blokes might be of some use."
Lee, Alexander, and I have already spoken about the meeting yesterday. I think Lee was relieved that Alexander and I confirmed Lee's suspicions; it must have been great to know he wasn't going crazy. But we have yet to take any action in response to what we heard yesterday. I figured we could give it a little time before we put Susannah on trial.
"Any wee help would be useful," Hercules smiles.
"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Burr raises a brow, closing the door and sauntering in with his arms crossed. He seems to shrink within himself.
"I can't really see why not," Hercules says. He opens his briefcase, then pulls out a small pile of papers — maybe a dozen or so.
"Do they know what we are here for?" Richard Howe asks, looking at Lee.
Lee shakes his head. "Didn't tell them."
"I'll explain," Burr quickly say, hopping on the occasion. He paces around, keeping his gaze in Alexander and me as he gives a brief explanation. "We have documents from a few Russian officials. Don't ask how we got them-"
"Hercules stole them?" Alexander assumes.
Burr is wide-eyed for a moment, then he looks at Hercules. "You told them you are a spy?"
Hercules shrugs innocently. "May have told them a wee bit."
Burr suppresses a sigh, then he looks back at us. "Alright. Mulligan stole some documents."
"Technically, lad, I made copies of them. Good spies rarely steal anything."
Except for alcohol.
"As I was saying," Burr continues, "we have these documents, presumably with highly important information."
"So what's the issue?" I ask.
"The issue is we can't read it." Burr holds up the papers, and written on it are a series of vaguely familiar symbols. No numbers. No letters. Just symbols.
"It's a secret code," Lee elaborates.
"I've been doing me best to figure out the pattern and decipher the meaning," Hercules says, "but I just can't seem to get it."
"And we've been trying to help," Richard Howe nods. "Nothing seems to make sense."
"So why were we specifically brought in?" I raise a brow.
Lee shrugs. "I figured you two are brilliant."
Hercules takes one paper from the pile and begins to stride to us. "Gander at this, laddies."
Before Hercules can reach us, Burr stops him. "Are we absolutely positive we want Alexander and (Y/N) Hamilton to see these classified documents?"
Hercules smiles kindly. I don't know how he can tolerate Burr.
"I don't see a wee problem. If they can't decipher it, then they can't know what it says. If they can decipher it, then they can help us understand."
As if to back up Hercules's response, Hermes barks happily.
Burr backs down reluctantly, taking stiff steps to the side of the room as if to give everyone space while we ignore his warnings.
Hercules hands us the clean paper. "Make a lick of sense to you, lads?"
The writing on the papers nearly makes me gasp. Yes. It does. It makes perfect sense. I can understand the writing as though it were written in Russian.
This is a secret language that all Russian troops are taught early on in training. That includes Alexander and me.
The secret language is seldom used, typically reserved for transportation of urgent or highly-classified information between the Russian government and high military officials. The language is made up of a series of symbols, each symbol representing one of the thirty-three letters in the Russian alphabet. Yes, thirty-three. I was surprised when I found out English only has twenty-six letters.
Anyway, if you translate the symbols (consisting of small symbols reminiscent of shapes and lines crossing over each other) into their respective Russian letter, you'll get a page full of Russian words; if everyone's assumptions about the document are correct, then this is relevant material that we ought to know.
But how to react?
We can't possibly admit that we know what this means. That would be suspicious, even in the eyes of Lee! How do we just happen to know some random language made up by the Russians?
So how do we approach this issue?
I find myself already mentally translating the document before I can think up an answer for my own question. Luckily for me, Alexander is a fucking sly genius, and he comes up with the perfect scheme to play this off.
"We can obviously assume that this translates into Russian," Alexander says, taking the paper and placing his hand on his chin as if in deep thought.
"So it's not in Russian already?" Lee asks quite stupidly.
"I already said it wasn't, lad," Hercules murmurs.
"No, it's not in Russian just yet," Alexander confirms. "But as I said, it will translate into Russian." He runs a finger up and down the document, counting quietly... for show. "There are thirty-three unique symbols from what I've counted. I suspect they correlate with the thirty-three Russian letters."
You already knew that, Alexander.
"Blimey! Russians have thirty-three letters?" Lee asks.
"Yes."
"What drugs are those bloody Russians on?"
Alexander coughs to hide a laugh, ignores this comment, and continues his elaborate scheme.
"There are some symbols on this document that are on their own. Those must translate into the Russian letters that are also written on their own. If we can figure out as many letters as we can, we can piece all the documents together. Furthermore, we can-"
"You know, Hamilton, why don't you, Hercules, and your sister work on this together," Lee interrupts. "The rest of us won't be any bloody use since we don't know Russian."
Without another word, Alexander beckons Hercules and me over, and we begin our work, translating the symbols onto separate paper
"I didn't know the Hamiltons knew Russian," Richard Howe murmurs. "They do sound Russian, but..."
"They're from Alaska," Lee responds. "Lots of people from Alaska know Russian."
I must admit, Alexander and I put on quite the act! Pretending like we don't know all the symbols, staged trial and error, letting Hercules figure out some letters for himself. While we do this, I'm translating the documents mentally. My findings are quite startling, but I don't dare show my astonishment until we are completely done with all thirteen documents.
The documents have been translated into Russian. Burr, Lee, and Richard Howe show interest once again.
"What does it say, mates?" Richard Howe asks.
Alexander lifts one of the translations and reads it off... in Russian.
"Mind saying it in English?" Burr quickly cuts Alexander off.
I slide to the sidelines with Hercules and Alexander reads off the documents one at a time. I blank out, but I remain aware of everything Alexander says. It's as though his words are tangible things floating in my mind, and nothing more exists within my psyche.
It's only when Alexander reads the last document that I draw myself back into reality. Most of the document is a long letter with irrelevant information, but the very end of the letter is what catches everyone's attention.
"I am not concerned about whether or not the agent stationed in the American naval base in Cuba will be caught. It is irrelevant. As long as they continue to transport directions and messages to the Brazilians, the plan will go as the Brazilians want. And if the plan goes well, Cuba will be freed from American occupation. The Navy stationed on the southern harbor is unlikely to get involved. Nevertheless, remain aware and alert. The agent in Cuba seems to be fairing well. Figure it out, Trotsky. My father is counting on you to make sure Mother Russia and all Voyna countries pull out victorious whenever this campaign ends. Do not fail me. N. Ivanovich."
The sound of Nikolai's name sends a shiver down my spine. Unconsciously, I lift my hand to my left-side neck, grazing the skin where I once felt a hot bump after Nikolai "captured" me. I don't feel it anymore... I still do not know what caused that bump.
"Bloody hell," Richard Howe growls, leaning back in his chair as he takes in this new information.
"So are the Brazilians coming to fuck us in the arse or what?" Lee drones.
"It's a wee bit confusing," Hercules nods.
"And for that exact reason," Burr interrupts, "we shouldn't be making any assumptions. We shouldn't be leaping to conclusions. We must review the information and sketch out all possible-"
"Cor blimey, Aaron. Did you not hear anything?" Lee sneers. "There is an 'agent' in Cuba! In his very bloody Naval Base!"
"Are you insinuating what I think you are?" Burr raises a brow.
"It's exactly what I've been saying for a bloody-long time! That Hopkins girl is a bloody spy!"
"Charles! We have no proof!"
"This shit is proof!"
"I agree with Lee," I jump in, the thought of framing Susannah tasting like chocolate on my tongue. It's sweet and intoxicating. "She pulses with suspicious activity."
"I wouldn't be surprised if she sucked Nikolai Ivanovich's dick," Lee adds.
"That's another point," Burr continues, rubbing his temples as though he had a headache. "These documents are, for the most part, from Nikolai Ivanovich! He's a professional liar! I wouldn't be surprised if he planted these documents to lead us off course."
"They seemed pretty legit when I forged them," Hercules says. "I have no reason to believe they were faked to shove us off a bridge, lad."
"We never suspected Nikolai Ivanovich to shove us off a bridge," Burr says, using Hercules's words. "And that's why he's so good at doing it! He has us lined up at the edge before we even know we're there, then he knocks us off all at once!"
"The whole Nikolai thing is irrelevant," Lee waves a hand. "We now know there is a traitor among our ranks! And it's that bloody slag: Susannah!"
The argument continues raging on in the room for a long time. I block it out, making my own conclusions and searching for answers to my questions.
So, Susannah very well may be an "agent". It was all speculation before, but now we have real reasons to doubt her. And if she really is a spy, then...
She's been playing this game for a long time, hasn't she? She already has the upper hand and a Joker up her sleeve. If I'm going to win this game, I need to be cautious. Before, I wanted to see what was in her hand. But now, I need to prove that she has been cheating. Cheaters don't win trophies. Not if they are exposed. Caught breaking the rules.
"You're in denial!" Lee accuses, being uncharacteristically harsh to Burr.
"You're looking for anyone to hate!" Burr strikes back. "You've always been that way! With Snyder, Bain, Berg, Laurens, Lafayette. And now with Hopkins?!"
"I have valid bloody reasons," Lee sneers. "And Susannah Hopkins is no different!"
"Charles, listen to yourself!"
Lee, appearing aggravated to a new level, turns his back on Burr and prepares to leave. "If you don't want to consider my conclusion, then fine. Figure out what those documents mean by yourself."
"Charles, don't-"
"I need some bloody tea."
Lee motions for Hermes to follow him as he saunters out of the room. He looks at Alexander and me before he's gone. "Let's go, Hamiltons."
We follow him without a word, figuring it was more akin to an order than a request.
Lee slams the door when we leave, then he motions for us to keep up with his pace.
Alexander and I remain silent, listening to Lee's furious stomps against the metal floor of the ship. When we get on the deck of the ship, Lee changes his attitude, perhaps unwilling to let the sailors see he is pissed.
It is only when we reach an empty end of the ship that Lee looks at us.
"I'm not bloody crazy."
Alexander and I exchange a glance.
"We don't think you are."
"I bet everyone else does."
I understand his conflict. No one believes him... He must feel terrible. I feel terrible knowing he feels terrible. Seeing deep struggle within his eyes, I take a step forward and place my hand on his shoulder.
"I'm on your side, Lee."
He glances up at me, seeming grateful for my solace. He takes a deep breath, then straightens up.
"We have some work to do then, Hamiltons," Lee says, patting Hermes on the head as if to calm himself.
"We do?" I raise a brow.
Lee nods. "We need to do some of our own investigating. Being a spy leaves tracks. It leaves a trail. It leaves a scent. If Susannah really is a spy — which she is — then we can find solid proof. Proof that will satisfy even Aaron. We get Susannah kicked out. That's the end of everything."
Alexander raises a brow. "What are you asking us to do?"
Lee's eyes flash red for a moment, then he lowers his voice. "Details can be established later. But I need to know you two are willing to do some shit."
Once again, Alexander and I exchange a look. Then we pull an innocent smirk. "We're down for anything."
Lee grins a little. "Proper good. 'Course, if anything goes wrong, I'm willing to take the blame."
"Good to know," I say. "Whatever you're planning, it's obviously dangerous enough that we might get in huge trouble."
"What kind of task would it be if it weren't?" Lee teases. "Righteo. Don't get too comfortable, Hamiltons. I'll be coming to you two soon enough with the plan... Any questions?"
Alexander shakes his head, giving Lee a confident expression to show his readiness.
I, on the other hand, have one thing to ask.
"Yeah... Can you make me a cup of tea too?"