Winds of Fate [Books IV - VI]

Chapter 163: Heist (Part Two)

April 1720, Present Day
Our World
Great Inagua, the Caribbean
Currently under British rule

The weather is fine and mostly dry that day on Inagua when the sun gleams gold for a moment and the harbormaster squints to see the glimmer off of white sails north, wide and angled to lee catching what little gust is available. Gerry squirms as the guest sails into view: a large sloop, almost like a repurposed warship. He waddles out the wooden pier, spyglass cold in his hands.

English colors. He squints and studies the make of the ship-English bearings too, come to think of it. The harbormaster winces. Certainly, the Navy hasn't given a message that they will be sending an envoy of sorts...

Nor is Mr Wallace expecting any supplies from Boston.

Gerry shrugs and backs up from the pier. He waddles again, this time to the bell-post, where the marines immediately snap to attention. "Friendly, but I cannot be so sure."

One young lad squints, while the other's eyes widen in surprise. "Should I go up and warn the gentleman?"

"No. Not yet. I wouldn't..." Gerry grips the bell. "Want to worry him." He waves at the soldier in the watchtower, who hurriedly gathers a flag. "Let's see what kind of deception they're up to if they're no good. Or perhaps... the gentleman has a visitor from the mainland we don't know about."

Ding! Ding!

As the strange warship-like sloop sails nearer around the bend, Gerry, the harbor master rings the bell. Its soft twinkling calls bouncing off of the rocks guarding Inagua's bay. The soldier atop the post has his flag awaiting. Gerry holds his breath and places the spyglass on one eye, his other hand tightly gripping the rope.

Ding! Ding! He tugs the bell once more. Ding!

Sonorous knells clang across the expanse. Mr Gerry twirls his kerchief to allay the heat, nevermind drops of sweat trickling down his brows at rapid speed. Another one, he calls to the soldier, who now waves a flag for recognition. Still the ship remains deaf and mute, nary guns nor captain.

"Well, I'll be damned if this is a Spaniard." Mr Gerry now scowls, his flippant tone hiding his coiling guts in fear. Or a pirate. They were too close to ruined Tortuga; it won't be long before they figured out that Inagua had led the Admiral to their swift destruction. The marine looks onto him. The harbormaster grimaces. "Another one and we'll send for Port Antonio-"

A flag waves high from the crow's nest.

The gallant ship has dropped anchor a few ways still far from the harbor and near one of the buttes.

"That's odd." The other soldier wonders aloud beside Mr Gerry, but the other one has enough sense to converse with the mysterious stranger on the ship. A guest! The marine said. Seeking audience with the master!

But there are no expected guests today.

"Ask who!" Mr Gerry says, a little too late, for the strange ship has let out a dinghy hanging by its lines, touching the hull. He immediately lifts his spyglass-and sighs. The men assisting the dinghy are dressed in fine uniforms of blue, white, and trimmed with gold.

~*~

Two days earlier...

"Where would we even get those fine things?" James asked, utterly lost in the midst of the men. They were all huddled in the captain's cabin for the last preparations He looked on to Captain Del Santo who raised his brows. "And that many?"