Here we go guys! My first Revolution fanfic! Hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think!

Chapter One

The sharp wind cut through the light fabric of the makeshift blanket covering their sleeping forms. It whistled and howled around the empty fields, mixing with the silence and rustling of the nighttime hunters.

Charlie Matheson shivered beside the last remaining embers of the fire that had roared only hours earlier. Her uncle, Miles, let out a soft snore in his sleep. Charlie smiled as she looked over at him. Her eyes moved to the other sleeping forms and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. They were on a suicide mission.

"What's wrong?" came a soft, female voice to her left.

"Nothing, I was just stretching," she lied, giving her mom a scarily convincing smile.

"Ok, try and get some sleep; we've got a big day ahead of us," replied Rachel, smiling back. Like Charlie needed reminding of the looming mission.

The sun rose a few hours later, bringing with it warmth and strength. The group gathered their belongings, covered the remains of the fire and headed West. Towards Philadelphia. Towards the headquarters of the Monroe Republic. Towards him. The President and General of the Monroe Republic, Rachel's former capture and Miles' former best friend Sebastian Monroe.

"You alright?" Miles asked quietly as he walked beside Charlie.

"Fine, you?" she replied immediately.

"Well I wouldn't say walking to Philly to potentially kill your best friend would be fun but sure," Miles muttered gruffly.

"I'm sorry," Charlie began before he shook his head.

"Don't. Not your fault."

They walked in awkward yet comfortable silence for a few hours until Aaron begged for a rest, he had gone an unhealthy shade of beetroot. They sat down in the shade of a large tree not far from the road when the sound of horses hooves caused Miles and Charlie to spin around frantically, both going for their swords in the process.

"Quiet," Miles hissed, as the two horses came into view around the bend. Their riders distinctive grey uniforms with the letter "M" on them informed them that they were Monroe militia.

"Great," Charlie muttered causing Miles to smirk.

Minutes later both soldiers lay hidden behind a clump of bushes; Miles and Charlie sat atop one horse both now dressed in the grey uniforms while Aaron and Rachel occupied the other. They rode quickly, covering mile and after mile, all the time Philly rose higher in the distance. Charlie could sense and feel that Miles was becoming more and more on edge the closer they got.

"It's going to be ok," Charlie thought out loud.

"I may have to kill my best friend," Miles sighed, "Paranoid and insane as he is, we grew up together."

"I'm sorry," Charlie repeated.

"But this is more important," Miles declared, trying to convince himself more than anything.

They had been planning the attack for days, weeks even. It was essential that they got the amplifier out of Monroe's hands. With it he had power. With it he could obliterate all and any opposition. Miles and Charlie were going to be the ones to infiltrate Monroe's headquarters while Aaron and Rachel prepared a way out for them.

They were in. Charlie didn't know how. But they were in. Keeping in character was much easier than she had thought; the uniform she was "borrowing" made her feel strong, invincible and fearless. Miles would never admit it but being back in uniform felt like a hole in his heart had been filled. He was where he was meant to be. So many times he thought about, obsessed over and analysed whether he had made the right decision or not. He'd given up everything. For what?

The pair rounded a corner and Miles knew that they were near the laboratory now; where the amplifier would be. A group of soldiers walked past them and merely nodded. Miles motioned to the door on his right and the pair quickly scanned the corridor before entering.

There it was. The amplifier. It sat alone and proud in the middle of the table. The machine that would provide Monroe with power looked innocent enough but having heard what it could do Charlie knew it was a devil in sheep's clothing.

As they were hurrying to collect it Charlie heard footstep nearing and motioned at Miles who felt his stomach drop as he recognised the confident prowling steps of General Monroe. The steps were coming closer to the door and their hearts were hammering out of their chests.

"General," a nervous voice asked, as Charlie heard a hand being placed on the door handle.

"What is it?" Monroe snapped, sounding on edge and grumpy.

"We may have a situation," the man answered, "One of the patrols came back two men short."

"What?" Monroe demanded, "Where were they patrolling?"

"The East wall of the city General," the man replied.

"Ok," Monroe sighed, "Send Major Neville to my office."

"Yes Sir," the man replied before both sets of footsteps faded away.

"We need to go. Now," Miles urged as they hurried to the door, checking both ways before they ran out.

They were free, so nearly at the gate to the complex when the alarm bells started.

"Run!" Miles instructed, holding the amplifier tightly and increasing his speed towards the gate where Aaron and Rachel would be waiting with the horses.

"I want them brought to me. Alive." Monroe said clearly to the men in front of him.

"Yes sir," the men replied before saluting and marching from the room barking orders as they moved down the corridor. Monroe lent make in his chair his eyes closed; he wondered how Miles had done it. Then he remembered: it was Miles. The man could do anything. He laughed bitterly as he poured himself a glass of scorch and downed it in one.

The militia were flooding the streets of the city as the pair fled. Miles was faster than Charlie and he leapt onto a horse with the amplifier before the militia seized Charlie.

"Charlie!" Bellowed Miles as he turned to run back to her.

"Miles go!" She yelled, glaring at him with such ferocity that for once in his life he was inclined to obey. In the second that he hesitated the militia had dragged her back into the depths of the complex and were now charging towards the three fugitives and the amplifier.

"I'm not leaving you here!"

"It will be for nothing otherwise!"

In the second that he hesitated the militia dragged Charlie further back into the complex while the rest advanced quickly towards Miles firing shots left, right and centre.

"Go!" Charlie bellowed. Against every fibre of instinct in his body Miles obeyed, for the first time in too long, an order. Miles forced the other two to ride quickly, he stole one last look back; a final analysis of the situation while he began to plan.

The militia brought Charlie into a small cell, handcuffed and bloodied. Before they left her there they hit her roughly across the face laughing and shut the heavy door with resounding clunk.

"Sir," Major Neville said as he entered Monroe's office.

"Ah Tom," Monroe replied silkily, "You have news I assume."

"Yes sir," Neville began, "We were unable to recover the amplifier or Miles but we have Charlotte Matheson downstairs."

"We lost the amplifier and Miles?" Monroe processed out loud, "How did this happen? Bring Charlotte to me."

"Yes sir," Neville replied, saluting and exiting before the unstable General ordered his execution for the loss.

Charlie was brought roughly up stairs, along corridors and through doors until suddenly she was left, apparently alone in a large room. She glanced around for someone but couldn't see anyone until a movement in the corner caught her eye. She shivered slightly, her blood beginning to boil. There he stood. Tall, proud and ruthless. General Monroe.