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In the last week of September, unusual heat began to build around the city of Philadelphia. In the hospital room that Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton were sharing, a slight breeze eased through the open windows. The sweat stuck to their night shirts as the humidity even encroached through their second-floor room. Luckily, it was tempered by Mrs. Hamilton delivering lemonade to the pair, as well as Dutch cookies and other sweetmeats.
Still, the tension was growing as the culprit who had brought down the building had yet to be captured. Mulligan had reported back that he had suspicions on several men who could to have done it.
Thomas was busy looking at a newspaper that was heralding a plague of a mysterious fever in the city on his side of the room. Eliza was sitting on the bed with Hamilton, reading while he laid his head on her shoulder.
“Eliza,” Alexander said quietly, “My head aches and I’m getting a bit tired, my love.”
She kissed his forehead. “My poor darling. Would you like some Chamomile tea?”
Alexander sighed, “Yes please.”
Eliza kissed him again and raked a hand through his head as she hopped off the bed. “I’ll go see if I can make a cup for you darling.” She looked over to Thomas. “Would you like some tea, Mr. Jefferson?”
Thomas looked up, slightly startled. “Oh, umm…. yes please? I would appreciate it if it’s not too much trouble. Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton.” He had to admit that he didn’t feel well either. His head ached as usual, and his muscles felt sore too. He thought it was the lack of movement and the arm being in such a stiff position as the reason.
She nodded kindly to him.
When she disappeared, Hamilton shook his head. “I wish she wasn’t around me. I worry that if there is an attack, she’ll be in danger, and I won’t be able to protect her.”
“Hamilton, you’re not thinking clearly. They’d never attack the damn hospital in the middle of the day. If they’re aiming for you, they’d wait until it’s quiet and there’s not many people around.”
“They attacked in the middle of the day when the building was blown up on us!” The Treasury Secretary hissed. "We were caught off guard and didn't have time to prepare. We were lucky to escape with our lives." He paused; his voice heavy with emotion. "We must never let that happen again."
The Secretary of State slid out of bed and took the seat that Eliza had been occupying moments ago, deciding he would listen to his counterpart’s ideas about what had occurred nearly five days prior.
Jefferson sat back contemplating, his muscles screaming at the exercise. “That is true, but I hardly doubt that whoever carried out the attack would venture so callously to carry out another one, Hamilton.”
“We have guards posted at the doors, you really think they’d attempt to infiltrate here?” Jefferson said incredulous.
Hamilton put his head in his hands and shook his head slowly. “This is quite complex.”
“Hmm….” Jefferson agreed quietly, “You don’t think Genet would have anything to do with it?”
Alexander frowned, “And put his relations with America at stake? No.”
Jefferson pinched his nose, his headache rising in pitch. “Then we’re right back to where we started.”
“No,” Hamilton looked over to the sun at its zenith over the city scape.
Jefferson gave him a hard look, “Hamilton, what are you planning?”
“Look, Jefferson. I had planned this since I’ve been awake. The President is going to take precautions and leave until the threat has passed. I don’t have that option, unfortunately. Better that I use the opportunity to draw our opponent out into the open.”
Jefferson’s eyes widened, “You plan to use yourself as a target for whomever is out for your life? Isn’t that more than a little…” he shifted his eyes away, “dangerous? If your wife found out this is what you have planned…...”
“She will not know if it, Jefferson.” Hamilton replied in a hard tone that made it sound like a command. He shrugged, “Besides, I may have your assistance in the matter.” He nodded to the walking stick next to Jefferson’s bed.
Thomas snorted, “You think I brought that to protect you?”
Hamilton reeled back with a little dismay, but soon schooled his face. It forced Jefferson to show his hand. “I thought of protecting myself, of course. But since you plan to put yourself in harm's way, then I have no choice but to protect you as well. I don’t want to face your wife’s ire should something happen to you.” He shrugged while his lips tugged into the smallest attempt at a smile.
Alexander nodded appreciatively. “Very well. Are you sure you want to take the risk though, Thomas? You’ve already got a broken arm.”
Jefferson snorted, “And what exactly did you plan on doing, Hamilton? You’re not exactly in any state to take on an attacker in any form.”
Alexander’s smile grew conspiratorial. “Get him to talk. I’m always, as you like to put it ‘running my mouth.’ If I get him to talk, get him to confess that he or a group were trying to kill President Washington and myself, then we’ll have him.”
Jefferson’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know it’s going to be that easy? Do you expect him to confess everything like he’s talking about the weather?”
“I was Washington’s aide-de-camp and right-hand man.” Hamilton said mildly, “I interrogated enemy soldiers to get information from them. This will not be that different.”
“Except that he will most likely have a gun or some sort of weapon in his hand.” Jefferson replied pointedly.
“That is a gamble of course.” Hamilton agreed, “But it’s not as though I don’t expect it. And besides,” his grin re-appeared, “I’m hoping that back up will be forthcoming.”
There was a pause before Alexander spoke again, “Herc-that is Mr. Mulligan is arriving back here to inform us of any developments. I will tell him to let certain…. parties know that you are to be released back home tomorrow so that the perpetrator will be forced to tip his hand.”
“And where am I in this grand scheme of yours, Hamilton?” Jefferson inquired with a raised eyebrow.
The Secretary of Treasury lifted his chin to look down the rows of beds. “Jefferson, how do you feel about feigning illness?”
Thomas gave him a quizzical look. “Whaaat?”
Hamilton shrugged “If you pretend to be sick, you won’t be targeted, and I could have the assailant’s full attention.”
Jefferson’s eyebrows rose. “T-that could work. That’s rather ingenious of you, Hamilton.”
“A compliment, from you? Is the world ending?” Hamilton snarked and he laughed quietly.
They both heard the soft footfalls of Eliza returning. “We’ll discuss it more when Tench gets here.” Alexander muttered, shooing Thomas back to his side of the room. Jefferson scooted back to his bed and laid down again, pulling the book he had been reading to his grasp and opening it.
Eliza returned with a tea tray enough for three people as well as some lemon cake on small plates “Here we are, gentlemen. I thought you need some food to strengthen yourselves!”
Alexander and Thomas, both thanked her and dug into their snack, though he wasn’t that hungry, and food made his stomach twist for some reason. Thomas looked up to see Hamilton yawning, though he didn’t know whether or not he was feigning tiredness. “My dear, I appreciate your care, but I am quite tired, now.”
She kissed his temple, “Alright, my dear. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She looked lovingly at him, their hand’s slipping from his while his look was just as endearing.
~*~
Late in the afternoon, Hercules Mulligan appeared. Alexander went over the plan with him.
Mulligan's eyes darted anxiously towards his companion as he completed his statement. "Ham, this plan seems quite daring. Are you absolutely certain about going through with it?"
"Listen, Mull, there's no other option. He's targeting me directly, and this is the only way to apprehend him," Alexander stated with conviction.
“Alright, Alexander. We’ll go with your plan and pray it works." Mulligan agreed. "However, I insist on staying here with you both. I wouldn't want either of you to risk fighting in your current condition, just in case the worst happens."
“Don’t you think two occupied beds will look a little suspicious?” Jefferson countered.
Mulligan replied, “If he asks, it’s just one of the congressmen that’s come down with the Fever.” At this, his face fell, “It’s certainly true enough.” After a moment he continued. “I know just who to contact to let everyone know that Alexander is “alone” in the hospital.” He grinned over at his friend, but his eyebrows furrowed, “speaking of which, you don’t look very well, Ham.”
Alexander just waved a dismissive hand. “I think I’m getting my usual autumnal fever, nothing to worry about yet.”
He nodded, but still didn’t look convinced. “I’ll be back at dusk, Alexander. Try to relax for a while. Tonight is going to be…. interesting to say the least.”
*~*
It was near midnight when Alexander heard the door squeak open. He looked up from the papers he was truly finalizing for the financial report he was to turn in. His heart was pounding harshly against his skin as he looked up to see a doctor wearing a white coat.
Part of him relaxed, but he was still tense. He smiled tightly at the doctor, whom he did not know as the Treasury Secretary had a regular physician who’d been treating him this last week. Already, Alexander’s hackles were up as the man reached his bedside, at it was then he saw with some apprehension, the man holding a cup and saucer in his hand.
“Good evening, how are you feeling, Mr. Hamilton?” The man asked in his professional but kind tone.
“I’m well enough.” Hamilton sighed, “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of being introduced, good sir.”
The man seemed startled for a moment, then clasped his hands together. “Forgive me, it was rude of me. I am Doctor Jenkins, at your service, Secretary Hamilton. I work under Doctor….”
“Doctor Burnette? My attending physician?” Alexander interrupted helpfully.
The man smiled. “Ah, yes sir! I am a new physician at this hospital sir.” He glanced around. ”My, there seem to be many patients in this room. I was told that you were alone.”
If you were truly a doctor at this hospital, you’d know that. Hamilton thought to himself.
“Yes,” Alexander replied with feigned sadness. “Victims of the Fever epidemic. I, unfortunately might have started to come down with it as well.”
The Doctor nearly reeled back, but he kept his calm. “Before I forget. Doctor Burnett told me that you were to have this.” He held up the cup of tea. “It’s to help you sleep, sir.”
Thank you, Doctor.” He replied, taking fake sips out of the cup as he did when his daughter Angelica made a particularly bad brew of tea for him, then scrunched up his face. “Doctor, I do believe that I am going to be sick.”
The ‘physician’ turned away as Hamilton fake-retched into the pan next to him on the table. He poured the tea while the phony physician was not looking, He replaced it on the opposite beside table where it could not be seen by candlelight.
He then pulled out a handkerchief and pretended to wipe his mouth. “F-forgive me, I am not well.”
The fake doctor started to place a hand on his forehead, but Hamilton had dodged the hand as it neared, his sickly expression all but disappearing.
“Let’s stop playing games.” Alexander growled, “What is your name?”
Seeing his act had disintegrated, the man’s face became hard. “Alan Salis.”
“And do you really work here at the hospital, Mr. Salis?” Seeing the other man’s hesitation, Hamilton continued, “you don’t do you?”
The man pulled a gun from his coat, aiming it right for Alexander’s head. The former soldier was not phased. “Tell me, you’re what, twenty years old? Born in the days of the Revolution?”
“1757.” The man huffed.
“You are the same age as I, how odd. You don’t look it at all.” Alexander said calmly.
“But some things remain the same.” The man said. “Disgusting immigrants who pose as loyal to America but are Monarchists who won’t help their allies.”
Hamilton finally got the answer he wanted, but still continued, “Washington is hardly a monarchist.”
“Yeah, but wasn’t it you that suggested a ‘president for life on good behavior?” Salis huffed.
Alexander didn’t answer this. He had suggested this, but it was widely rejected by the Congress when they were drawing up the Constitution. The discussions were private, which made him wonder where the man had gotten that information.
Ignoring this answer, he decided to try another line of questioning. Time was growing short, “And where you the one that planted the bomb that destroyed the building, Mr. Salis?”
“As if I would answer a traitor like you.” Salis snapped.
“Let us calm down then, good sir.” Alexander put both hands up calculatingly, “Are you working for France? For Citizen Genet perhaps?”
The man’s eyes narrowed while he brought the gun to Alexander’s temple. “No, but the French have the right idea. Perhaps we should execute all the elites and begin a new government that is loyal to its allies and unforgiving to its enemies!”
Hamilton snorted, “I’m hardly an elite, sir. As Secretary of Treasury, I’m getting only half of what I earn as a lawyer. My wife knew she was marrying a poor man. As to the ‘elites…. that’s why we overthrew the king and elected officials for each state, surely you know that? Tell me, you are not afraid to kill me. Who are you associated with? What are their names?” Hamilton’s eyes narrowed.
“What do you care?”
Alexander snorted. “I’m not afraid to die, I almost did several times during the Revolution and throughout my life.”
The grin Silas gave made Alexander’s stomach twist, “We are the Brotherhood of Free and Elective Unity of Lands.” “Die, traitor!” He snarled.
A cane came across the man’s neck, then it was brought down on the man’s hand, causing the gun to go skittering out of sight in the dark. Thomas’ face appeared in the candlelight. “You’ll have to go through me first.”
“And I.” Mulligan said, cocking a gun that was placed at the assailant’s head.
Sails stopped; eyes widened when a sinister grin grew on Hamilton’s face. ‘The game is up, Mr. Salis.”
The assailant’s face paled. He knew that Hamilton had the upper hand. He slowly backed away. He knew he had no choice but to surrender.
Mulligan said, ‘Let’s go, Mr. Salis. He wrenched the man’s hands behind his back and marched him out the doors.
Jefferson grinned, “That was brilliant, Alexander.”
Hamilton’s eyebrows rose at Jefferson’s comment, but he gave a comedic bow. “Thank you-Jeffer-er...Thomas.” His eyes were slightly cloudy. Was it fatigue?
“How did you know that was the culprit?” Jefferson asked curiously.
Hamilton’s shoulder rose. “He would not have brought me a cup of tea, that’s something a nurse would be tasked to do. Especially at this hour when he did not know if I would be awake or not, but probably banked on information that I stay up all hours working. Plus, his demeanor. He didn’t do the usual routine of checking my vitals, and he seemed spooked when I mentioned the Yellow Fever and turned when I pretended to vomit and poured the tea in the basin. You know as well as I, that doctors are trained for those sorts of unpleasant scenes.”
Thomas saw Alexander stop talking all of sudden, his face paled, and Thomas stepped closer to him. “Hamilton, are you alright?”
Thomas felt a chill run down his spine as he realized something was very wrong. He reached out and gently placed a hand on Alexander's shoulder. His skin underneath the loose fabric was overly warm, and he could see sweat beginning to trickle down the Treasury Secretary’s forehead.
Alexander shook his head and promptly got sick in the basin he reached for. Thomas stepped back quickly, running to the doors and calling the guards. ‘Mr. Hamilton is ill; he needs a doctor in here now!”
Thomas stepped into his own space of the hospital room when a doctor and nurse came running to the Treasury Secretary’s side. His own stomach turned, and a wave of dizziness overtook him, making him plunk ungracefully onto his own bed. It was suddenly so cold, and he very tired.
When the dizziness passed, he went to the bedside table and lit a lantern, its flame giving enough light to illuminate the entire bed. Thomas pulled out a hand mirror and lifted it to his face, his breath shuddering as he gazed at his reflection.
His eyes were yellow.
Oh…. oh no. Damn, this couldn't be happening. The dreaded Yellow Fever had taken hold of him.