Page 9 of King's Man

“As for the long term…” MacLeod lowered his voice. “The Continental Congress is weak and disorganized. It’s vulnerable.”

Nate’s pen froze.Thiswas what he was after, this direct attack on their government. He dared not look up, tried to sink into his chair lest he do anything to remind them of his presence.

A tense silence had fallen, and Farris gave a nervous laugh. “Vulnerable to what, my Lord? Are you talking about another revolution?”

“You don’t need a revolution to make a weak government serve your interests, Farris, you just need to know how to wield the whip.” Now it was MacLeod’s turn to preen, rocking back in his chair and folding his hands over his belly. “And my people could do just that.”

MacLeod had boasted many times about 'his people', but only in the vaguest terms. And although Talmach was convinced MacLeod's network of subversives was a threat, Nate had his doubts.What people?he thought, pen poised.Name them.

He could have crowed when Farris said, “What people?”

“Good people. Important people.”

“Here in London, or…?”

“Yes, in London. Plenty of angry men here who’ve had property and businesses stolen by the damned rebels. They’re ready to strike a blow, mark me on that. But we have allies in America, too. Tobacco and rice planters, men with sugar interests in the West Indies, merchants like you… Men who stand to lose a great deal if the African trade is threatened.” He smirked. “I have a list of names.”

“A list?”

“A long list. Names, information — a lot of information. But it’s secret, only I know who's on that list.”

Gaze fixed on the paper, Nate made notes and kept his expression neutral. This was always the way with MacLeod: half-truths, brags, and lies. It would surprise Nate if this infamous list existed anywhere but in the man's over-inflated imagination.

“I keep it locked in my study at Marlborough Castle,” he went on, “in an excellent strongbox. German made. But the men on that list, Farris? Mark me, they could bring the Continental Congress to its knees.”

Startled, Nate’s pen scratched over the paper, blotting it. He cursed silently, but neither Farris nor MacLeod seemed to notice. Christ Alive,Bring the Continental Congress to its knees? Surely MacLeod was exaggerating. It was an extraordinary claim.

“These men,” Farris said doubtfully. “They’re inside the Continental Congress?”

“What? No. Bugger the politicians, it’s the backcountry that matters. There’s trouble brewing there, and where there’s trouble there’s opportunity. A Congress fighting disorder at home won’t have time to attack the African trade.”

“A distraction?”

“Precisely.”

“I’ll drink to that, my Lord.”

“The question is, sir, will you help me create it?” MacLeod set his hands on the table, flattening them. They were broad, short fingered hands. Perfectly manicured, but muscular and rough-looking. Brutal hands. “I have several crates of muskets in a warehouse on Hay’s Wharf — I need them to enter Boston without attracting attention from the revenue men. I’ll see you fairly compensated for your trouble, naturally.”

Farris sipped his coffee. “TheTriton’sdocked at Hay’s Wharf, ready to depart for Benin in three weeks, and from there to Boston.” He smiled. “If your people can load the cargo discretely, I’ll ensure it doesn’t appear on the manifest.”

“Excellent. Leave it aboard when you dock in Boston, and my people will retrieve it and ensure it reaches the backcountry. Andthen…” He smiled. “Well, then the Congress will discover it has more pressing problems than the African trade.”

Farris’s frog-like mouth stretched into an eager smirk. “And be damned to any government that thinks it can control how a man does business, eh?”

“Quite so. Do we have an agreement?”

“We do.” Farris lifted his coffee cup in mock salute. “Here’s to trouble and opportunity.”

Nate stared at his paper, fingertips whitening as he clenched his pen in dismay.

“I’ll drink to that with something stronger, sir.” MacLeod pushed to his feet. “Join me at my club, I’ve a mind to mark the occasion.”

“Honored, my Lord.” Farris rose and attempted to bow at the same time, resulting in an obsequious shuffling that Nate might have found amusing if he weren’t so horrified.

But MacLeod was right about the growing unrest in the backcountry, much of it directed towards the tidewater elite believed to dominate Congress. The fact that MacLeod and Farris were plotting to stoke actual violence — to arm people — filled Nate with dread and dismay. He had to fight to keep his fury from showing.

“Tanner.”

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