03x02 - Cold Murdering Bastards

Episode transcripts for the TV show "TURN". Aired: April 2014 to August 2017.*
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Based on the book "Washington's Spies", written by Alexander Rose, "Turn" is set in the summer of 1778 and tells the story of New York farmer, Abe Woodhull, who bands together with a group of childhood friends to form The Culper Ring, an unlikely group of spies who turn the tide in America's fight for independence.
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03x02 - Cold Murdering Bastards

Post by bunniefuu »

Announcer: Previously, on "Turn: Washington's Spies".

A small but effective spy ring has been operating right under our nose.

You're real target is Samuel Culper.

(gasps)

You're nothing to me but bait.

Abraham: Well if you wanna use me, you're gonna have to help me.

My son, he is a criminal.

A spy for the Continental Army.

man: What charges, man?

This is a bloody writ of assistance!


This will go away by mornin'.

We have a new man in the city.

Robert Townsend.

(men laughing)

Man: No, no, no.

I have it on most excellent authority, gentlemen.

We already know that Washington has allied himself with the papists, but now he has conspired with Paris and Rome to ship some 50,000 mass books, some 70,000 rosaries, some three million communion wafers into our humble Anglican homes.

Mark my words, gentlemen, if Loyalist hearts falter, we shall be kneeling before King Louis and calling him King of America.

(men laugh)

Where did you hear this, Rivington?

Let me read that.

Oh, no, no.

This is tomorrow's "Gazette," not today's.

Drink up, Colonel, while you can still get rum and not altar wine.

(men laugh)

Honorable sir. Honorable sir.

I give you the first peek.

Fresh off the press.

Well, I'm open to criticism, but I found that quite provocative.

It didn't come off.

The governor's men failed in their task and now they've been hanged.

My men? They're not my men. I didn't pick them.

Mathews: No, merely drew from my pockets to pay them.

Wait, now, Washington's alive?

What went wrong?

We're still waiting to hear from our man in camp.

Oh, now he's your man.

Well, no use crying over spilled ink, gentlemen.

You'll get him next time.

(door closes)

(distant horse neighs)


Governor Tryon, Mayor Mathews.

Good day, sirs. Drinks.

Stop! Stop the damn presses!

We need to remake the front page.

I want a new lead story. Title it...

"Rebel Rabble Routed at Monmouth; Washington Left Reeling."

Strip out the first column.

Replace it with advertisement.

Come on, man! Damn it, this isn't a weekly.

Now, hold on right there, Major.

I am the royal governor of New York.

I don't report to you.

And I don't mean to suggest otherwise.

I'm quite happy for you to take any initiative against these bloody rebels.

All that I ask is that if that action involves gathering of intelligence that my post be made aware so that one operation doesn't run afoul of another.

You have a man in Washington's camp?

Let's talk about yours.

I need his name and I need to make contact.

His name is Worthington.

The good Reverend Worthington.

The chaplain?

He takes the confessions of the soldiers and offers them counsel.

Very clever.

Mr. Rivington.

What is it, Townsend?

I'd like to buy an advertisement.

♪ There's snakes in the garden ♪
♪ Soul for sale ♪
♪ Blood on the rise ♪
♪ Hush, hush ♪
♪ I know there will come a day ♪
♪ As they're hiding in the cover of night ♪
♪ I can't wait anymore ♪
♪ Soul for sale ♪
♪ I can't wait anymore ♪
♪ Soul for sale ♪
♪ I can't wait anymore ♪
♪ Hush, hush. ♪


"As surely as I live, declares the sovereign Lord, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live.

Turn. Turn from your evil ways.

The good man strives to turn his enemies..."

(whispers) Culper Jr. sends his regards.

And should any of you have any doubts about your missions, then come to me, seek me out, and I will offer what counsel I can.

Now go in the name of the Lord.

Amen.

Men: Amen.

Reverend Worthington.

I... I wanted to apologize for the mishaps that attended last week's hangings.

"For the living know that they will die, but the dead have nothing.

Their love, their hatred and their envy have now perished."

Ecclesiastes, I believe.

What is done is done.

But if you have any qualms of your own, Major, my door is always open.

Thank you, Reverend.

All right, show me.

It's right here at the top, see?

"French raspberry brandy."

Culper Jr., he's raised the flag.

Ben: Which means his father will have seen it by now and should be on his way to New York.

Caleb: Aye, and Culper will have seen it, too, and be on his way to Oyster Bay.

Which means I best get myself to Setauket.

It's working, isn't it?

It is, Tall-boy.

Aye.

Sackett would have been proud, the dirty old bastard.

I hope so.

Major Tallmadge.

Ah, General Arnold.

Good to see you, sir. What brings you to our camp?

A swarm of gnats and flies, Benjamin.

I swear I'd rather fight two of Clinton's armies than fence with bureaucrats.

Where is the commander?

Should be in his tent, sir.

Benjamin?

(chuckles)

Don't you have somewhere to be?

Oh, it just sounds nice, that's all.

(horses neighing)

(sheep bleating)

(chickens clucking)


Cheeky bastard.

Waltzing into town after leaving Eastin to rot by the road.

Hello, sweetheart.

Lost your friends?

Captain Simcoe sent me ahead to ready our campground.

He'll be along soon.

Well, soon's all the time we need.

(groans)

Hewlett: Abraham.

Morning.

Have a seat, Abraham.

Yeah.

We expecting trouble?

One can't be too careful when dealing with spies.

Now sit.

(clock ticking)

Your father has told me everything.

What do you mean?

Don't even pretend to deny it.

It's over.

I want the names of your coconspirators in this town and your contact in the Continental Army.

You know that you are nothing but a coward.

I gave you warning after warning.

You only have yourself to blame for forcing my hand.

Mary: Thomas.

Hey, Thomas. It's all right.

Sit down!

Richard: No, wait!

(hammer clicks)

Oh, so you're gonna sh**t me in front of my son?

No!

I mean to see you hanged.

Yeah, you're right. I'll hang.

But what will happen to you, hmm?

You'll be stripped of your command.

My command?

Yeah, well, think about it.

Who provided the papers that got me into New York?

Whose letter got me out of jail when I was arrested for being a spy?

You're the one being brought to account here.

I wonder what your superiors in New York would have to say about that.

You never know, you might be hanging with me.

At any rate, you'll be shown to be the fool that you really are.

You can't blackmail your way out of this.

Say good-bye to your grandson. You won't be seeing him again.

Come on.

(Thomas crying)

Stop!

Not the boy!

Edmund!

Step aside!

If you sh**t my husband, you have to sh**t me, too.

Mary, get out of the way.

I will not let him walk free.

He will not leave. He won't leave as long as you have me.

Have you?

As your hostage.

Mary!

Edmund, don't do this, please.

Not like this. Not with a child.

Go.

Go!

But leave Thomas here, please, for his own good.

(door closes)

(crying)

(birds chirping)

Well, it's not that bad, really.

(wind whistling)

Just needs a little... a little sprucing up, I think.

This is gonna be your bed.

Want milk.

Oh, you're hungry, huh?

All right, well, maybe we can go into town afterwards and find you something there.

Did I hear someone say they're hungry?

And would is th be Thomas, the brave young man I've heard all about?

Don't talk to him. Don't look at him. Don't touch him.

That's a fine way to talk to a man who comes bearing gifts.

How about a freshly baked apple tart?

Don't feed him either.

A fine father you are, starving your only child.

Go play outside. Go on.

Up.

It's hard to see past your stomach when you're your age, young lad.

Who'd you rob?

A little foraging expedition.

I foraged this from the Dutch boy's privy.

Normally it isn't even fit to wipe your arse with except for this little item on the top of the page.

Why don't you take a look at that?

That's your code word, isn't it?

Means your man in New York's got some intelligence coming your way.

You forget that I read every single letter in your lair.

So now you're to ride for Oyster Bay and to collect from the Quaker's father.

Go on with you.

No.

Well, no, I won't be riding anywhere.

Why not?

I can't leave the boy, so...

Ah, a little tiff with the wife, eh?

Well, that's fine. I'll go.

No.

Fine, then you go and I'll watch the boy.

Ah, I wasn't asking anyway.

Look, wait. Hewlett knows about me.

He knows everything. The ring is done. It's over.

Then why are you still here and not dangling from a noose, huh?

Huh?

You look at me.

You're blackmailing him, aren't you?

Ha ha!

Which means the ring ain't done and I'm away to Oyster Bay.

Good-bye, Thomas.

Want Mama.

I know you do, Sprout.

I know you do, little man.

Come here. Come here.

We are going to get her back, all right?

(men laughing)

(screams)

Don't worry, lad.

We've all tasted the lash.

Part of being a footman in the King's Army.

(grunts)

(laughing)

(grunts)

Oh.

Besides, this way, when we hang you, it will seem a mercy.

(all talking at once)

(hammers clicking)

(horses neigh)

I see you prefer your adversaries helpless.

Perhaps you'd like to try your luck with one who isn't.

I didn't think so.

(grunts)

Ah, ah, ah, ah.

(grunts) No, no, no!

(shouts)

He is taking hostages?

Yes, four.

The rest of the company is in the village green awaiting your orders.

Whatever provocation our men may have given, this bloody business with Captain Simcoe ends now.

And if it takes open battle, so be it.

(door closes)

Sir, Captain Simcoe here to see you.

What?

He rides alone under flag of truce.

(birds chirping)

(distant horse neighs)


(sipping)

Thank you.

Perhaps it would be best to keep that flag of truce handy.

I wouldn't want my guards to find cause to sh**t you.

That would be unfortunate, as you'd then be responsible for five deaths.

If I don't return in an hour, the soldiers I took into custody for assaulting Private O'Shaughnessy will be ex*cuted for their crime.

By the way, how is Mrs. Strong settling in?

You will release my men at once or you will get this w*r that you are so clearly courting.

Perhaps w*r is the point.

The reason I came here is to inform you that it could be a third party is responsible, someone who hopes to encourage conflict between us.

What third party?

Major André has informed me of a spy operating out of Long Island, a man named Samuel Culper.

I see.

First I'm to believe that Ensign Norwich hanged himself last spring and now that a rebel spy k*lled Corporal Eastin.

Well, when you sort through your beliefs, you may come to realize that w*r with me is unwise.

So I'll leave it to you to mete out the discipline your men deserve.

50 lashes each to be witnessed by both our units.

Otherwise I'll do it myself, undermining any pretense of authority you have left.

You have 24 hours.

(sips)

(chatter)

(horse neighs)

This is all Reed's doing.

When he said that he had sent his charges to you, I knew I had to ride here immediately.

Not that I imagined for an instant that you would believe his slanders.

So why, then, do you think he's so intent on pursuing them?

Why did he vilify you behind your back when he was your adjutant?

Because he seeks to undermine those he is threatened by.

I challenged the sole and sovereign authority he wishes to wield over Philadelphia.

The man's had it in for me ever since I assumed the post.

And you've done fine work restoring the city to order.

Whilst trying to put my own house in order.

Which is what Reed now uses as the basis for his accusations.

I've heard that you have requisitioned Penn Mansion for your headquarters.

Not just for a command post, but for my home.

I'm to be married, George, to a woman of means who expects at least some comfort and amenity, things I could easily provide if Congress would only reimburse me what they owe me for Quebec.

£10,000?

Yes.

I'm not sure that Congress could reimburse you even if they wanted to or that you would be wise to accept their payment.

And why, for God's sake, not?

To support the w*r, they've continued to print currency like the biweekly tabloids that spew out of New York.

The result is our dollar has devalued to the point where I fear we'll not be able to finance another campaign.

So Reed and his lackeys in Congress get to burn down their house even as he undermines mine?

He has gone so far as to insinuate treason, George.

Treason. What do I do against such a ruthless as*ault?

Apply for court-martial.

Submit myself for trial?

A m*llitary trial.

Take it out of their court, put it into ours.

Restore your honor and put an end to these ugly rumors... once and for all.

Robert.

It seems this old Quaker is too plain for your establishment.

Perhaps he didn't notice your silver buckles.

Yes, I'm trying to be more inconspicuous.

Yes, well, speaking of which...

Yes?

Give my regards to Mr. Culper.

Ah, yes. I shall indeed.

Now, tell me how...

So this is Townsend Sr.?

The paterfamilias?

The mighty oak from which this hard nut has fallen?

Welcome to our humble coffeehouse.

Father, this is my partner Mr. Rivington.

James Rivington, Printer to the King's Most Excellent Majesty.

And what is this treasure that you are clutching ever so tightly?

That is a Geneva Bible that my father asked me to track down.

It is very important to our faith.

May I?

Certainly.

Oh, I've always wondered what you Quakers read.

Not that I have much room for comparison.

I take it you're not a religious man.

I'm a newsman, which is a religion all its own.

While others worship mysteries,

I seek to dispel them.

I pray thee, Brother Samuel, lift the veil on the mystery of your son here.

He says so little.

He may ration his words, but with Robert I always say what you see is what you get.

Really, now? It's always the quiet ones that have the darkest secrets, don't they?

Or perhaps their darkest, most shameful secret is that they have none.

Hmm.
(door opens)

(horse neighs)


Oh, welcome! James Rivington, printer to the king's most imposing majesty.

(door closes)


Problem is that by taking control of the garrison, they have command of the high ground and they have our cannon.

So we lay siege. Starve them out.

No, this needs to be swift and decisive.

Get me a proper count of their men and see if they've moved our cannons.

(sighs)

(door closes)

You're planning to att*ck Simcoe?

He's left me no choice.

And it is not only Simcoe.

This business with Abraham Woodhull...

I feel like I'm besieged on two sides, like Odysseus trying to steer between Scylla and Charybdis.

That's from Homer, isn't it?

Indeed.

They were a pair of sea monsters, one a six-headed giant and the other a massive whirlpool.

They guarded two sides of a narrow strait.

To avoid one, sailors would have to sail too close by the other.

So how did Odysseus prevail?

He didn't.

Realizing his entire ship would be lost if he passed too close to the whirlpool, he chose instead a course by Scylla, sacrificing six of his men to each of its hungry heads.

Simcoe is Charybdis.

You can't b*at him.

One thing I have learned from the classics is tactics.

I will find a way.

Tactics won't help with Simcoe.

It is nature that's the problem, and yours.

Mine?

Well, you could have sh*t him while he was here, but you didn't.

sh*t an unarmed man under the flag of truce?

The fact that even now you can't stoop to his level is to your credit, Edmund.

You're a good and decent man.

So my only choice is to submit?

If you're feeling trapped between the proverbial rock and the hard place, why not use the rock to smash the hard place?

Last year Simcoe framed you for m*rder and used rebel soldiers to try to k*ll you.

Why not return the favor by using rebels that you've just been made aware of to k*ll him?

What? No!

At least listen to the plan.

The plan? There's a plan?

At first you conspire with Hewlett to lure Simcoe...

No.

...into an ambush.

Did you just miss my second no?

And then Caleb springs the trap, leaving Hewlett's hands clean.

This is a terrible idea.

Because I had it or because you don't think it will work?

Why would I help stop a w*r I fought so hard to begin?

Because otherwise Simcoe will win.

And he knows the name Culper.

I heard him say it.

It's only a matter of time before he closes in on you.

This way, you can take care of him.

And at the same time gain another hedge against Hewlett turning you in.

Abe.

You're welcome.

Stay close.

(horse snorts, neighs)

(creature calls)

(horse nickers)

(mutters quietly)

(distant dog barking)

Raspberry brandy.

Who's that?

I'm sorry, are you not, eh, Samuel Townsend?

I am.

Aye, Woodhull told me that you'd know that...

I mean, Culper told me you'd know the code word.

I don't know any Woodhull or Culper.

Nor do I know you, mister...

Ah.

Eh, uh, Austin Roe's the name.

But that's not my real name, eh.

My real name's... well, no.

He said you wouldn't want to know my real name because, well, just in case you were captured and tortured.

All right, I think I've had enough of this game and of you, sir.

Excuse me, sir, please.

I mean, I'm just a humble cabbage farmer, sir.

I'm just a little bit over my head, you know?

(sighs) Fine.

(chuckles)

Fine, then why didn't this...

Culper person come himself?

He had his hands full in Setauket with some very important business, so he said you come and be the courier.

Right? He even told me about how to find your place with the barn b*rned out.

King's men did this, eh?

No, they were Queen's Rangers.

The Queen's Rangers?

Oh, they used to have honor.

You confuse me, sir.

You mourn the Rangers, but you also seem to be claiming that you're some kind of Patriot.

I wasn't always.

No, like most, I was gulled into believing that King George was my sovereign and my protector.

Aye, but I learned through hard experience that that man is not to be trusted.

Well, I'm sorry that you don't trust me.

So good night, then, to you.

Good night.

Wait.

From one Patriot to another.

(music playing)

(chatter)

Bugger me to hell.

I swear you have the luck of the devil.

Is that your secret?

You made a pact with the horned god?

Robert: Only for draughts.

(woman laughs)


Woman #2: ...as handsome as they say?

Woman: That's not all they say.

Woman #2: Oh!

(laughing)

James Rivington, ladies.

So pleased you could come to my establishment.

Dare I risk my luck against the devil's?

Don't tell my partner, but luck has little to do with it.

Rivington's your partner?

I have an interest in the establishment.

And you are an entrepreneur.

I suppose you could say that, yes.

I'd be proud to.

It truly is a new world, isn't it?

Even the air is alive with possibilities.

With electricity that Franklin pulled down out of the sky and trapped in a jar.

Only I assume to watch it fade to a dim glow.

You are a poet as well as an artist.

I dabble.

(door opens)

Rivington: Is it morning already?

Oh, my dear, when you enter my establishment, it's as if the sun has banished the darkness.

Gentlemen, may I introduce Miss Philomena Cheer.

If you have the time and coin, you really should see her play Hypolita at the John Street Theatre.

Man: What's the play?

"She Would and She Would Not."

Rivington: Yes, my dear, but would you?

Oh, for you, James, always.

Mm.

New York is exciting again now that so many of our friends have returned to us from Philadelphia.

I fear I am keeping you from a more engaging conversation.

I've already had that conversation.

I require more monastic pursuits these days.

Fortunately, your monastery is in your head, allowing rapid egress as mood or conditions warrant.

I forgot to ask your name.

Robert Townsend at your service.

Major John André at yours.

(coughs, clears throat)

(crickets chirping)

(creature calls)


So this is what it's like to be a spy skulking around at night.

Actually, it's more about fooling the gullible so one can do one's skulking in the light of day.

Don't push too hard, Woodhull.

Your wife isn't here to protect you.

Nor are your guards here to stop me from dropping another king's man by the side of the road.

You m*rder*d Eastin in cold blood?

Lukewarm. The man did sh**t my father.

I've come to learn that pragmatism must at times Tr*mp ideals or emotions.

Though I'm sure in this case you'll agree that Simcoe dead is ideal for all concerned.

All right.

Say I agree, then what?

Contact your friends.

No, I mean once Simcoe is dead, what happens next?

You leave Setauket.

You and your wife and your son.

I expect you'll find a warm welcome in Washington's camp.

So, um...

I hear Simcoe knows the name Culper.

We'll use that name to bait the trap for him.

You're Culper, aren't you?

What do you care?

I don't.

But there is something that I care very deeply about.

Can I trust a rebel spy to keep his word?

Can I trust a redcoat officer to keep his?

Well, then, let me propose that to this end and to this end only we put aside our mistrust and k*ll this murdering bastard.

I fear this many backs presents too broad a canvas for a single painter no matter how enthusiastic to complete.

I think I'm going to have to ask Private O'Shaughnessy to assist.

Ah, it appears I can turn this pleasant task over to your commander.

Major.

I think you'll find submission suits you.

I didn't come here to agree to your terms.

I'm here with a proposal.

Please.

I've been thinking about what you said about a third party playing us against each other.

And about that name, Copler.

Culper.

Right.

Much as it pains me to admit it, you may have been correct.

When I was first here, I compiled a list of tips from sources around the Suffolk County and surrounding areas.

The potential troublemakers.

I understand.

Well... look at this.

So it's not an alias.

Samuel Culper.

Rocky Point.

A day's ride east.

I believe that we should capture him in a joint operation.

Bury the hatchet between our two forces, get on with our job as the king intended us to do.

The task was appointed to me, but I thank you for the gesture and for the information.

The Queen's Rangers will make sure that this instigator pays dearly.

In the meantime, I return your men to you for you to discipline them as you see fit.

My horse!

Fall in.

(crickets chirping)

(creature calls)

(animal howls)

(fire crackling)


(humming)

All right, what's going on? What are you doing, huh?

Invisible ink. Smells like horse piss, eh?

What's this?

Did you...

What?

Did you steal this from Samuel Townsend, did you?

It was handed to me.

Well, to Austin Roe, rather.

Austin Roe?

Uh-huh.

Who the hell is Austin Roe?

(blows)

Austin Roe is a humble cabbage farmer.

A bit jumpy. You'd like him.

You've wasted the reagent, man.

Now let's see what the horse piss doth reveal to me.

Oh, Reverend Worthington.

A dirty preacher. Is there no end to all this wickedness and treachery in these fallen times?

All right, thanks.

Nothing about my friend André.

I'll take it to the drop.

I'm going with you.

No, no, no, no. You can't come with me.

If my courier sees me with you, I'm cut from the ring.

What do you mean if he sees you with me?

I thought you were just dropping that and he was picking it up.

Eh?

Well...

Why do you persist in lying to me, boy?

Hmm?

Why?

I don't know.

Don't do that.

You listen to me.

What you gonna talk to him about?

Not me, I hope. No?

Why would I talk about you?

Right.

What? What do you need this for?

What are you gonna do with that?

Nothing.

So long as you don't talk about me with the whaler.

But just know that she will be watching you all the time.

Aye?

(frogs croaking)

(crickets chirping)

(creature calling)


(whistles)

Christ.

What the hell are you doing here?

What's the problem?

No problem.

You're here, there's a problem.

No, it's not a problem.

It's an opportunity, all right?

Here.

Somehow Simcoe has learned the name Culper and I fear André may know it as well.

Yeah, we know.

What do you mean you know?

Name was in the papers stolen from our camp.

Abe: What?

Some guy called Gamble.

He was the one who k*lled Mr. Sackett and stole the papers.

When did this happen?

I don't know, a while ago.

So why didn't you tell me? Hey, I need to know this shite.

All right? I need to know everything.

Yeah, are you telling me everything?

What does that mean?

That means are you telling me why you're here?

Of course I am.

(rustling)

Jesus! Her, too?

Annie, what is this, a reunion?

Hello, Caleb. I thought I should be here when Abraham tells you my plan.

Your plan?

All right, we're not here to boast.

Doesn't matter whose plan it was.

The point is, we have found a way to frame a certain Tory who lives in Rocky Point.

Simcoe thinks that this man is Culper and he'll be setting out to arrest him.

Right, but instead you want me to ambush him.

There you go.

Nice.

Uh, did you say Rocky Point?

Mm-hmm.

That Tory wouldn't happen to be our old friend Beekman?

That's the one.

Nice.

Look, I'd love it if Simcoe doesn't survive this time.

Oh, trust me, he'll be a dead man.

Wait. I need to know what happens when Abraham leaves Setauket.

Ask Ben... should I report to him directly?

You're leaving?

What's this?

You didn't tell him, did you?

Tell me what?

His father sold him out to Hewlett.

Your father? What, you didn't think that worth a mention?

I am handling it.

Hewlett is a part of the ambush plan, all right?

And once it's done, I'll take care of him.

And Ben doesn't need to know.

I'm already keeping one secret for you.

What do you mean you'll take care of him?

You can keep one more.

What do you mean you'll take care of him?

What do you think I mean?

Just keep it down.

No, you made a deal with him.

I'm not leaving, Anna. Hewlett is.

He knows the name Culper just the same as Simcoe does.

And once Simcoe is dead, Hewlett is next.

No, you don't have...

If you want to stop me, you're gonna have to k*ll me.

What?

The only way for you to save Hewlett is if you warn him.

If you warn him, I swing from the gallows, so it's your choice.

It's me or him.

You should get out of here.

(voice echoing, indistinct)

(faint, echoing) "As surely as I live, declares the sovereign Lord, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live."

Worthington took the confessions of both Bradford and Hickey and it's likely he was their go-between with British intelligence.

What's more, he's been extracting information from other soldiers under the guise of offering guidance and moral counsel.

Your recommendation?

Well, we can't arrest him. We can't hang him, sir.

The news would leak out.

And it could expose Culper Jr. as the source.

Right.

So we k*ll him.

Quietly. I'll do it myself.

Uh, sir.

Yes, Lieutenant?

Shouldn't we at least wait long enough or keep him alive long enough until we can identify his contact?

And, yeah.

Make it look like an accident if you can.

What? Sir...

I mean, just like that?

The risk of exposing Culper Jr. far outweighs any tactical advantage gained by letting Worthington live.

It's a pity. I rather liked his sermons.

(crickets chirping)

(door opens)


Ah, there you are.

Securing the garrison took longer than I expected.

It seems our defenses have grown sloppy while the Rangers have been away.

Has Simcoe left yet?

He's been preparing his camp all day.

I expect he'll leave in the morning.

What did Abraham say?

He said he passed his information on to his contacts.

Did he say how?

No.

Still, it seems our good captain is in for a lethal surprise.

I thought that you would be more pleased that your trap has been set.

I...

I'm just a little nervous.

Now that it's all in motion, I fear...

It's going to work.

It's going to be all right.

Have you ever thought of... leaving all this behind?

Going home?

To Scotland?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes, I admit I have.

This w*r and my part in it has proven very different to what I expected.

Whatever moral certainties that I naively entertained have turned to cynicism, which shames me.

Which makes me all the more grateful for you.

You're a beacon, Anna, a light in the darkness of these past few months.

You're the only person that I can trust.

(crying)

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Now, now.
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