Sea Of Treason, Pirate's Bluff #1

A Good Plan

Bluff

My fists are clenched all the while I follow Whitely, in and out of alley ways, sprinting down the large open streets until we're safe and secure back in the shadows. We even cross through one fenced in construction site.

I do have to admit that she clearly knows her way here. Knows which places are safe to cross, which short cuts are worth the risk. But I still hate the fact that I'm following instead of leading. Not because I don't trust her, or because I want to be in control all the time—but because, if I were in the lead, I wouldn't have to keep my eyes on her.

I would see her blond hair flowing behind her as she runs. My eye wouldn't catch on the loose corset strings, exposing a portion of her lower back.

I want to focus on the streets, on our survival, not on her.

Eventually, I notice we don't seem to be heading in the direction I except. "Where exactly are we going?" We're going west, not south. She mentioned unwillingness to go to the harbor, but we still need to head towards the ocean, I'd assumed...

"The Hudson."

I tap my fingers on my leg. "Is there a dock there?" I ask. The river leads to the ocean, so I understand the potential but I'm unsure of the specifics.

"Not exactly."

I pull her back, and settle into another alleyway. Our proximity immediately causes my discomfort. What in the world am I going to do with this girl. I can't be near her, but I can't leave her alone with risking both our lives. She's a risk alone, and she's torture with me.

"Tell me you have a plan more complex than make it to water then find the ocean from there."

She rolls her eyes and pulls her hand from mine. "Yes, I have a plan."

"Care to share it?"

She takes in a long breath. "In Carolina we ran from pirates by finding other pirates. We're doing the same thing now."

I lift my hand motion for her to explain further, because that gave me nothing. "Where are you going to find pirates on the Hudson?"

"There's more than one type of pirate in this part of the world. Ever heard of a river pirate?"

I chew the inside of my lip, considering her words. Approaching pirates you don't know is rarely a good idea. It's an interesting concept, however. "Do you know these pirates?"

"Sort of. Maybe."

"That sound promising."

"It's a better plan than you have."

I give her that much. "But we'll need to think this through. Whatever type of pirate we interact with, there are rules to follow. They're not the kind of people keen to help others out of the kindness of their hearts. They want something out of it. And if they think they can get more out of betraying you than you're giving, they'll turn you over in a second."

"Okay. So what do you propose?"

I nod and begin to pace, thinking this through. "It's a good plan. But we need to consider what we're going to barter with. We'll need to know their motivation, their greatest desire. Is it money? Power? A place to belong? Do they respect pirates like Simon or do they hate them? Do they admire the elite of New York that you belong to, or do they dislike them? All of those things will come into play. Tell me as much as you can about these pirates."

I'm surprised when Whitely tells me all she knows about the pirates she's planning to approach. They're a secretive group, as you'd imagine, that live mostly in the slums and travel through the city sewers. Their average age is also somewhere around fourteen. She said we'd be lucky to find one as old as we are—usually they're recruited by the mob by the time they turn eighteen.

So pretty much they're a ragtag group of orphan thieves who use make shift weapons and dinghies to commandeer ships in the river in order to survive. She knows where to find them, and that's her most useful bit of information. She's only met one of them before, and she has no idea if he'll be anywhere around—or if he's even still alive.

"Well, I can take a few guesses at what a group like this would want most but it's just a guess we we're going to have to think on the fly with this one, just follow my lead, okay?"

"Want to let me in on your guesses?"

"Well, first, I'm going to assume they are not a fan of rich people. Yes, that means you." I expect an annoyed expression but get none. She simply nods.

"Okay. Should I change my clothes first?"

I shake my head. "No, we don't have much time and I'm not sure it'll help. You can only hid the stuck-up rich part of you so much."

At that her mouth hangs open slightly, her eyes suddenly full of pain. A sweep of guilt swings through me but leaves quickly. I don't care if I offend her. It would be better if she hated me anyway.