John Hancock was in the bar, sitting on a stool with a tin of beer in his hand. He took a sip silently, staring down at the counter as some other men walked in and took a seat.

It was quite cold, the sound of the wind blowing from outside. And it was at night, exactly 11:00 PM. Very late, and dangerous.. Especially if a plan is out there by the red coats that could come any moment now.

” Hm.. “