"So dat's the local prison?"
"Indeed! How perceptive of you, Tiago! It's the City Watch headquarters, as well."
O'Ma was leaning against one of the pillars of the colonnade going around the square. Next to him, tapping his foot impatiently, Tiago raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like one."
He was right. Isolated in the center of the paved square, lost in the upscale district, the building was quite welcoming: a simple cube covered by a red tiled roof. And none of the windows had bars.
"The explanation lies in the fact that, originally, it was not a chokey. It was—"
"A chokey? A prisão, you mean?" interrupted Tiago.
"Yes, you ignorant Iberian! A jail, a pen, a can..." O'Ma sighed and went on, "Anyway, I was about to say that it was not a prison at first, but a wine cellar."
"Oh?... Den at least de cells must be fresh, I guess."
That said, and for the fourth time, Tiago transferred his weight to his other leg, uncrossed his arms, scratched his head, looked for non-existent pockets in his trousers, crossed his arms again and resumed his foot tapping.
"Why are they taking so longo?" he whined.
Stalker's voice rang out. "Why are ye in such a hurry? We don't have no fuckin' plan." Sitting nonchalantly on the ground, back to the next pillar and to the square, he was cleaning his nails with the tip of his dagger. "And ye should call back the fuckin' puppet before he draws attention to us."
"I'll go!" said Tiago, already walking towards Dune.
Cap's escort was standing perfectly still just a few yards away from the prison's main door. In his hands, he held Cap's neatly folded clothes like precious offering. On top of the pile was a tricorn, black with a silver brim. On his shoulder hung a couple of large belts, weighted down by two elegant rapier, shining in the sun.
For a while, O'Ma watched Tiago push and pull the short, unmoving mass of muscles. Then he turned his head toward Stalker.
"Speaking of a plan, any enlightening idea?"
"I do! We leave Cap to rot and take control of the fuckin' ship," offered Stalker, never taking his attention off his nails.
"I must admit that it is quite tempting. But even if you were being serious, I bet some of our mates would challenge such a brutal change of authority."
"The key word bein' brutal..."
"Sure. But what about Alexandra?" inquired O'Ma.
Stalker remained silent for a moment, allowing the conspirators to hear Tiago's relentless huffs and puffs.
"So... Ideas to get Cap out of here, then?" Stalker started again. "I guess stormin' the fuckin' place is out of question."
"I mulled over it" replied O'Ma. "But we would need the whole crew to do that properly - and to avoid too many casualties. Our men are scattered around the municipality, for now. I'm not even sure that young Flow will manage to bring Alexandra back."
"It would have been easier if the morons here had built their prison by the sea like everyone else. A few cannon balls and..."
"And risk losing Cap in the process?"
"I call that a win-win situation."
O'Ma couldn't refrain from smiling. On that, Tiago came back, wiping sweat from his brow.
"I'm sure he moved," he panted. "A meter at least. What's so cômico?"
"Just Stalker being Stalker," explained O'Ma. "Not helping much, as usual."
"I'm sure that our dear capitão is fine," said Tiago, once he recovered his breath. "He's a resourceful man, after all."
"Ye're so fuckin' naïve!" grunted Stalker.
"Far be it from me to temper your optimism, Tiago," added O'Ma. "But Cap was not quite prepared to be incarcerated. And he doesn't know this prison, nor any of the guards. He hasn't much latitude in planning his way out."
"Are you saying we're his only hope?" said Tiago with a flickering smile.
"I'm afraid so," answered O'Ma.
Stalker sneered. "He's so fucked!"
Header by FayLane
Last update on May 7th 2019