Page 157 of Storm over the Caribbean
“Sir…Captain, they…they…!”
“Calm down, man!” Mr Ambrose barked, stopping the man’s blabbering. “What is the matter?”
“It…it’sthem, Captain Rockface, Sir!”
“Them? Be clear!”
“A-aye aye, Sir! You…you remember the disagreement you had with our last captain, Sir?”
“You mean the one during which I killed him? Yes, I do have a faint memory of that.”
“You remember how he told you we were being paid by people not to attack anyone except ships owned by this one filthy rich tosser?”
A muscle in the cheek of said filthy rich tosser twitched. “Oh yes, I do.”
“Well…that’s them. The people who paid us. The people we screwed over.”
At that, all the other pirates paled. Well…all of them except Mr Ambrose, as I happened to notice. Reaching out, he put a hand on the panicking lookout’s shoulder.
“Don’t you worry. Yes, we ‘screwed them over’, as you put it. But do you know what’s more important?”
“N-no?”
“They don’t know it was us.”
Slowly, very slowly, a devious grin spread over the lookout’s face.
“You mean…”
“I do indeed.”
The rest of the pirates started grinning as well.
***
In the harbour of a certain coastal city, a certain ship was approaching a pier. Soon, the ship had dropped anchor, and the gangplank was being lowered—although, for some reason, the captain seemed to be behaving strangely hesitantly.
“Ahoy there, Captain!” The dockworkers’ foreman strode onto the ship, a dozen or so of his co-workers right behind him. “The usual?”
“Um, well…” The captain cleared his throat. “Technically, but—”
“All righty. Me and my boys will start unloading, then.”
And in a blur, he was past the captain and had grabbed the first crate.
“Oy!” He shouted. “Someone come over here and help!”
“Coming, boss!”
And with that, one of the men grabbed the other side and they were gone, along with the crate. The captain remained there with his mouth hanging open, staring after them. He almost missed the next pair of dockworkers approaching.
“Hey, wait a minute!” Breaking from his momentary paralysis, the captain stumbled after the second pair of men, who were already marching away with their cargo. “I’ve got to tell you somethi—”
But they were already gone.
Things proceeded like that for the next ten minutes. More and more dock workers rushed onto the ship, making the crates, bundles and other cargo rapidly disappear. Meanwhile, the captain just stood there, occasionally glancing at a certain tarpaulin.
Soon, said tarpaulin and the cargo beneath was all that was left on the ship.
