John plants his feet firmly into the decking. He peers through the glass, staring at the shadows wondering about the deck of the bulky first-rate. The day had long settled into dark, and they were none the better. The Governor maintained a pace of several leagues, keeping her stencils drawn taunt. He had yet to formulate a decent plan to save Joe and the lack of results were gnawing at his insides. The captain chews at his bottom lip, sighing heavily. He lowers the glass, glancing up into the endless rigging of The Wicked Mary.
"You still up there, Mr. Wickman?" John inquires.
"Aye captain. I would not dare allow someone to lose that ship." Wickman calls down.
"Good lad." John praises. "Tell me, Mr. Wickman, has there been any change?"
"None, sir. Steady as ever."
"Damn. She has not deviated since we parted early in the morn?"
"No sir."
John exhales heavily, sagging his shoulders. He massages at his brow, steadily pacing the quarterdeck. What can he do? He ponders. John makes another sweep, pausing at the taff-railing. He leans his weight into the railing, peering at the swinging orange ball in the blackness. An aggressive growl bubbles from his throat, slamming his fist on the gunwale.
"Damn!" John murmurs across the waters.
"Bad news?" Burnt questions.
John snaps his head about, zeroing in on the battle chief not far off his flank. Burnt Hayden stands tall, arms crossed over the massive chest. He glimpses out over the water before focusing back on John. John follows his gaze, huffing irritably out of his nose.
"Unfortunately, yes. It appears that the good commodore intends to run straight through." John growls.
The deep green eyes turn to his old friend, scanning his face. Burnt stares out over the water, giving the blackness his full attention.
"I doubt he is not unaware of our presence. I feel as if he is anticipating my every thought." John grouses.
"He is intelligent, even if he is a cocky, deluded bastard." Burnt grunts.
John sighs, pulling at the back of his neck and shoulder. He turns away from his old friend, leaning against the gunwale. His head drops between his arms, groaning miserably with the pull against his muscles. Burnt approaches settling himself next to John. John raises his head, gazing at the first-rate.
"I am screwed either way, Hayden." John comments quietly. "We cannot risk seizing and boarding her."
"For fear there is no way to know the amount of fire power she carries. Or the many soldiers that lie in wait for such an attack." Burnt interjects.
"Aye. We would find ourselves in a blood bath if they have far more than we anticipate."
"Sneak aboard maybe?"
"I am not overconfident in that option either." John exasperates, throwing up his hands as he turns about. "I fear that any that goes across will not return. Not to add that to board her silently we need her to stop in her high pursuit to Port Adscene. I am tempted to just take a shore boat and."
"Captain, if I may be blunt." Burnt halts his thoughts.
"Of course, Hayden."
"You have a duty to your niece sir. A duty to the Queen of Pirates. But you also have a duty to this crew. If the party is discovered and a fire fight ensues, we need your strong leadership here."
John smirks, lowering his gaze, "Aye. Hence why I am not comfortable with a stealth boarding. The possibility of them being harmed is far too great."
"We can make it a volunteer basis. Lay the cards on the table, allow the men to choose their fates."
"I fear that not many will step forward. I perceive that the men do not appreciate their Queen. They simply do not like a woman aboard their ship. Bad luck and all."
"Hmm." Burnt hums. "The good commodore certainly is making things rather difficult."
"You speak only truth Mr. Hayden." John snorts.
John drops his head scratching at the back of his scalp. He scoffs, staring down at the dark sparkling water. His options were limited, miracles at best. He feels like a man on his last rope watching his enemy hack at the braided material.
"I just need him to stop." John mutters.
"The air is heavy. A storm would slow them down." Burnt offers.
John lifts his head, glimpsing over at his old friend. Burnt twists his mouth, resting his meaty hands on his hips. John sighs, massaging at his temples.
"The air is not pressurized enough to produce a storm of that level. The sea herself would need to be in turmoil for them to even heave to."
"Well, unless they have a skilled navigator. Gibbons could handle The Cyclone in a wee storm easily."
John drops his head, groaning dramatically, "You are not helping Hayden."
Burnt chuckles deeply, hardily smacking John's back. John grunts, gazing over at the broadly grinning face. He chuckles, shaking his head fondly. The captain straightens, stretching the taunt muscles in his back and shoulders. The deep green eyes stare out over the waters falling into the void.
"Whatever you two are planning I want in on it." Charlie announces.
John's eyebrows shot to his hairline. He glances about his shoulder at Charlie standing in the dim glow of the moon. A hand rests upon his hip while he stares down the two older men with a tilt to his head. John exchanges a small glance with Burnt, turning about to fully face the younger man.
"What makes you think we're plotting?" Burnt challenges.
"Please." Charlie scoffs.
John rests his backside against the railing hooking a hand on his belt. Charlie moistens his lips cautiously approaching. John scoffs as the young seaman keeps himself just out of reach of the two men. He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing Charlie's softening features.
"Captain." Charlie pauses, finding his tongue. "Captain. My words earlier were rather harsh. I know that you would not leave Joe in their hands. My words. They." Charlie pauses, glancing down at the decking. He sighs heavily, locking silver eyes on deep green. "They should have never been uttered, Captain."
John rolls his eyes over to Burnt. Charlie was showing great humility in admitting that he was in the wrong. This act of valor shows that he was taking John's harsh criticism to heart. There may hope for this boy yet. John smirks. He sighs happily, clamping a heavy hand down on the young man's shoulder. Charlie flinches, blinking his eyes several times as John drags him closer to the pair. A long arm wraps around the back of his neck, forcing the taller man to slouch. Charlie grunts, eyeing the devilishly smirking John out of the corner of his eye.
"We are trying to figure out the best way to get men onto the ship and get our crewmates off. An all-out boarding is not an option. And she won't heel-to long enough to get a small party in a shore-boat over there." John states.
"Why not an all-out boarding? We have attacked and conquered ships of that size before." Charlie challenges.
"The issue being we don't have enough information." Burnt offers. "Many ships we hunt are not naval trained nor do they know of our presence and the cargo we are after."
"Aye." John agrees. "We have not a notion of the number of guns she has on her decking, nor do we know about the men. It could quickly turn into a massacre that I'm not willing to risk."
Charlie hums, staring out over the expanse. He leans his weight onto the gunwale fixating on the sparkling orange globe. John slides his arm off the young man studying his expression-filled features. Charlie's silver eyes snap to the night sky narrowing marginally before dropping back down to the glassy water.
"What?" John inquires.
"The air is heavy. Damp. Rain is coming." Charlie comments off-handily.
"Aye. But it does us no good unless they anchor." John counters.
"She doesn't have to anchor in a rain squall to board her." Charlie contradicts.
"You lost your mind boy?" Burnt gruff. "It's hard enough getting a shore boat close enough to her without being seen on a good calm night. How are you supposed to do it in a rainstorm?"
"It's simple really. I would expect you to know how old timer." Charlie teases.
"Boy." Burnt warns.
"How?" John questions, silencing Burnt's rant. "Burnt is right. It is folly to chase after a ship in a rowing boat on a decent day let alone in the rain with the sea unsettled."
"I agree. It cannot be done by just anyone. But I'm not just anyone."
"Cocky bastard isn't ye?" Burnt scoffs.
"Charlie." John snaps. "Stop messing around. Explain."
"The rain may not get them to anchor but it can slow them down enough to get a shore boat close enough to get someone onto the netting and aboard. Look up." Charlie gestures towards The Governor. "She has her stencils set and several other sails that can only be out on a good day. Get a good enough storm with heavy rains and they have to take those in."
"Or else run the possibility of being waterlogged or the yardarms snapping." John finishes.
"Exactly." Charlie hums.
"Alright fine. I'll give you that one Austin. But what about the boarding? She's several leagues ahead of us. Even if she does heel, there is no way to close the distance and approach all within the night. You'd risk being seen and taken before you even made it to Joe and the others."
"And if it was any other person I'd agreed. But we can easily shorten that distance. The wind is behind her. But storms often shift the winds, if it stays true, she'll be affronted with the wind. The rain hitting her sails at that angle will force them to take their sails in. But if we shift."
"If we shift several degrees to the west, we can avoid that outcome and have our own stencils catch enough wind to gain ground before having to tact them in." Burnt finishes in astonishment.
"Alright good." John praises. "What about the boarding? We cannot risk getting The Wicked Mary that close. A dingy or shore boat will still need to be launched."
"That can be simple. It will take some time for them to unfurl the sails they previously took in. After the rain has subsided, we could get the boat launched and over before she can make headway." Charlie offers. "Alex and I used to race some of the ships leaving port."
"A ship leaving port and one on open waters are two different creatures Charlie." Burnt cautions.
"Not necessarily. Or at the least not in these circumstances. A ship must slow her pace to leave port. She must do the same when facing a turbulent sea and rain. It would be difficult but not impossible. Find me a strong man and I'm confident we can do it." Charlie states confidently.
John purses his lips glancing out over the waters. The deep green eyes snap up to the rigging, mentally calculating their chances. He lowers his gaze pinching his lips into a thin line. Charlie drops his smile as John fixates him with an intense hard stare.
"Can you do this?" John quickly raises a hand silencing Charlie. "I know what you just said, Austin, but knowing this crew and their abilities, can you accomplish this? Do not give me false hope, Mr. Austin."
Charlie sighs scratching at his stubbled chin. The silver eyes dive into the black void beyond John. John's heart sinks as the tense silence drags on.
"Give me someone like Pike or Scotty and I think we can easily accomplish it."
John sighs relieved, slouching his shoulders. He rests a hand on Charlie's shoulder, jabbing a finger into the boy's chest.
"I cannot promise you anything Charles. Because of the stakes, this will strictly be a volunteer basis. But I will see what I can do in convincing these men otherwise."
"Don't worry about the men sir. Many respects Joe and will not need much convincing. I will approach ones I think can handle such a mission. Everything else needed for us to get Joey back in one piece will be left for you to handle." Charlie grins.
John smiles broadly at the young man. He pats Charlie on the shoulder guiding him towards the captain's quarters. There was much yet to be discussed. John thinks amused. He jerks his head to his battle chief, the brute stepping in line with John.
"Fair enough. Come. Let the three of us discuss what else you need to accomplish this half-assed rescue operation of ours." John jokes, his heart swelling with the new hope.