Hey guys!

Sorry for such a long wait, I've been working hard due and I have not had a chance to do much writing, I would make this longer, but Its been solo on, so I am leaving this chapter on a cliff hanger. Below this is actually based off an event that happened in History with Pitcairn. I've been reading Igniting the American Revolution: 1773 to 1775 by Derek W. Beck. I like the narrative of the book. I recommend it if your interested in the subject.

-Moon

Catherine stopped the horse behind the native Assassin. The fourteen-year-old boy climbed off the horse and dropped onto the ground.

She could hear a minor spat between Connor and Barrett.

"Boy, what are you doing here?"

"This man saved me, the British had arrested me, but he took him down like the devil himself!" The boy exclaimed as he pointed at Catherine as she pushed her hat past her eyes to hide her face more.

"I told you, boy, to stay with your mother to guard her and your sister."

"I know uncle, I did, but now I want to help."

Better judgment against them to argue with his young nephew, "You can help the minutemen help reload their weapons, god bless if your mother found out you were holding a weapon." He looked towards Connor. "Do you know this person, boy?"

"I do," Conor glancing at Catherine, "You can trust them."

Barrett scratched under his chin and glanced at Catherine, "I will need a messenger to help warn one of our allies who is hiding supplies for us. I just received a report that Pitcairn is leading a small troop to destroy it."

Connor glanced at Catherine, "I am going with you."

"No, I can handle this." Catherine said, "You need to stay here and help these men defending the bridge. We do not want the British to overrun them."

"Are you sure?" Connor asked he held a loose grip on her arm right below the shoulder.

The Assassin paused for a moment before looking at her significant other. "I am sure as you when you left me in Boston." She took his hand off her arm before walking back to her horse.

Taken aback from her statement, the Native could only stare with unsure eyes. James, who had reached the old North Bridge, he had overheard the sound of Catherine and Connor's small disagreement. Snatching the reins from a man who was holding her horse, Catherine swung her leg over the saddle, wrapping the hard leather of the reins around her knuckles. Adjusting her hood while on the back of the horse, "Where do I need to go?" She asked Barrett.

"The Jones Tavern, you can circle back into town and cut off the British before they arrived." He instructed the assassin, "Godspeed,"

Catherine nodded before kicking the inside thigh of her horse before the animal took off, burrowing down the path. Connor watched her back as he saw her riding animal away from the small barricade. James approached Connor with his musket slung over his shoulder.

"Is everything alright, mate?" James asked, "What is going on?"

"Nothing," Connor said with a solemn face.

"The Regulars are coming!"

Clasping his hands behind his back in stoic fashion, "You better be in line to take command of my men, boy."

With one glance he gave James a single request, "Will you aid me, James?" Connor asked.

"Of course," James said, walking over to stand by him. "As long as you stand by her."

-Assassin-

Arriving upon the tavern, she could hear gunfire from a distance. Not losing her nerve, she approached without looking back upon the fields of battle. Trying to block her mind of the men dying for the cause of rebellion. In her stride, she climbed off the horse and with fast as her legs could carry her; she came to the tavern door where it swung open with a man holding a musket at her face.

"We are closed, can't see there is a war going on!"

"Aye, James Barrett had me come warn ya oncoming troops who are seeking out supplies and weapons for us. A man by the name of Pitcairn is leading them to dispose of the stash."

The man eyed her oddly before pulling his gun back, "Jones will want to hear this, we are in the middle of stashing it. Come in,"

"Rony, what is taking you, man?" A voice called out, "We need to finish hiding this stash."

"I have someone who was sent here by Barrett," The man who had greeted her with a gun, she assumed he was Rony. "I have a boy here who can help us, but I don't know how much the lad help will with his scrawny ass."

Catherine bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from outlasting. Rony let the assassin in to face an older man who was overlooking three other men who were carrying barrels of gunpowder. She assumed the one overlooking the operation was Jones; he glanced over at the pair of them. His eyes landed on Rony before switching them over to Catherine, who's eyes were narrowing.

"The reason he's scrawny is that he is a she."

The men stopped in their sted to glance at their extra guest, Catherine looked bewildered as looked in shock, "How?" She dropped her fake voice.

"I have three daughters and I am the oldest of five sisters. I've been married for 15 years with my wife, I know what a woman looks like, the way you hold yourself."

Catherine pushed her hood down, taking off her hat, "You must think I am foolish for this,"

"Nah," He waved his hand, "To see a woman armed with a sword and pistols, I assumed she would know how to use them." There was a glint of humor in his eyes as he looked over her with admiration.

"Tell me how I can help?" Catherine asked.

"How fast can you dig a hole?" A man shouted, asked.

"Depends, do you have a spare shovel?" Catherine asked as she took off her coat and weapons.

After pulling a netting covered with leaves, she assisted with hiding the last of hiding the cannons. Her sleeves were rolled up with her weapons placed inside of the tavern while she worked. No one would notice the obscured pile of leaves unless they were looking hard enough on Jones' property. The flour mill that was not too far was already raided for the weapons and supplies, the Miller sent his son as a dispatch.

"Catherine!" Ronnie shouted for the Assassin, "The British are here, get your tail inside and help us barricade in."

Knowing that the tavern and the local volunteers did not have much combat experience, entrapping themselves inside of the tavern. In a swift moment, she ran inside the tavern. Over the sound of gunfire, there was a sound of thundering hooves down the path of the tavern, Catherine packed her pistol with a single shot, praying that she could hit the Pitcairn with one hit. Standing by the window, she pulled the current back to see a small garrison of men. Never meeting the main before, she could pick the Templar Knight out. Major John Pitcairn dressed in full British regalia, the bright red of his military attire matched his men like it matched the Union Jack.

She hoped that this man did not recognize her, or was aware of who she was. Though, in her current state, covered in dirt with short hair pulled back like a boy. She wasn't afraid of the face of the Templars knowing she was alive because Haytham knew, which meant the other Templars more than likely knew. She had to hide under the noses of the Templars.

The Major climbed off his own horse; he walked towards the tavern with much grace as expected from His Majesty's officers. There was a sudden pounding on the wooden door that shook the frame.

"Open the door in the name of His Majesty, King George."

There was an air of unrest in the men that Catherine felt. This was not the first time she had been in a rough situation where she been surrounded. Her mind made her think of the time when she was in Paris as a simple novice in the first six months of her training, where she had to assassinate a target that was a corrupted constable. They had trapped her inside a room after the killing man. His cronies had swarmed to outside the room, blocking any exit for the woman.

IN defiance, no one answered the Major. There was a just hard glare from the men.

"I ask again, open the door for the Crown." In a moment like a switch, Major Pitcairn, he cursed with an abusive language towards the door. "You will open the door under my orders, or we will light your tavern flames and force you out."

Jones turned to look at the other men inside than with Catherine. She could see the instant of fear across the Tavern keepers face, none of them were train men to handle a fight. That would be a mistake to allow the tavern to be set ablaze. Not just for Master Jones to lose his living wage, but they had planted hidden gun powder under the floorboards of the tavern. It caused an explosion, causing the supplies to be lost and the building with everyone inside.

"Open the door," Jones said looking towards Catherine, "I don't want those soldiers to end up killing us. We have the supplies hidden."

Catherine chewed her lower lip, "If you believe that is what it must be done, but I have a personal vindictive against the Major out there. If I take out this man, I might lead them away from the tavern after me."

"Are you mad, lass?"

"Just a bit, but I can only hope for a bit of luck."

The young assassin nodded in agreement as she pushed the furniture out of the way, placing her hand on the lock.

Jones said, "Hold, we are letting you in."

Catherine yanked back the sliding lock and hid behind the door, ready for it to barge open. In a fluid motion, the door barged open with a tramped of solider marching in followed behind Major Pitcairn. Holding her stance, she was waiting for a moment to attack. Her years of training felt as a memory of the muscle. It was a simple relaxation that thousands of assassins before her trained to do.

"Captain, I want you take some men around the property to make sure there are no contrabands. I want operations underway before Lieutenant Colonel Smith arrives."

Catherine launched her from her hiding spot in the corner like an animal. Her fist swinging first, hitting her mark on the Major's jaw. Her hidden blade became unsheathed from its hidden compartment under her sleeve. She was ready to kill until a hand reached out to grasp her wrist before she could make the killing blow.

Turning her head, there was a tall British soldier wearing a kilt behind her. He was a brute of a man that had tight grip ahold of her. The grenadier clung her against his own body; the brute was powerful. A set of soldiers had scrambled to help Major Pitcairn to his feet. Catherine struggled against her captors' grip, she sheathed her hidden blade in the process.

The Major looked stunned that a colonist had outright attacked him. The punishment of such an attack would normally be the result of hanging till death. The Major touched his lower lip to feel blood. The colonist in front of him had busted his lip. Never had he encounter someone so bold.

"Who are you boy?" He demanded.

Jones became bugged eye at fear, "He's just a boy whose emotions are strong right now."

Catherine glanced at Jones, who was pleading for her life. He had seen her weapons in the corner, stuffed away from sight. She cursed herself for disarming herself to assist with the stashing of supplies.

John Pitcairn looked over at the assassin, "Do I know you?" He darted down at her from the tip of his nose.

The disguised woman cut her eyes sharply into a glare onto the man, "No,"

"How Old Are You? You can't be more than 15"

This irked Catherine to be talked down like she saw a child, "You should mind yourself, I've been alive on this earth for 20 years and I've met men like you."

In an instance of interruption, two red coats walked in, "Sir, we may have found supplies outside around the barn."

Jones and the men inside the tavern became visibly nervous. If the Major decided it, they could all be put to death. Catherine tried to calculate which way it would sway.

Pitcairn gave a brief order to the men. "Take care of the supplies," The Major eyes study over her with much discontent before he looked at the men, "Make sure this lad has a seat." He gave a sharp look towards Jones, "and you, do you have prepared for breakfast?"

The revolting colonist in the room had a confused look on their face, "Yes," Jones swallowed

"Good, get two plates of breakfast for myself and the boy."

They forced Catherine to take a seat at a table where the Major had sat across from the assassin. She could see templar insignia ring as he took off his gloves. She tried not to linger too long on it.

Everyone's attention was taken off them as they gave Jones permission to leave the room to go to the kitchen. John sat across from her as she gripped her knees, feeling tense from the situation.

"Now tell me what an assassin is here?"

She heard a click from under the table and knew that John Pitcairn had a flintlock pistol pointed at her.