Home > Rapture of the Deep(48)

Rapture of the Deep(48)
Author: L.A. Meyer

"That's more like it," he growls and places his hand on my shirt and with one powerful downward pull, rips it off. I pull out my now-exposed shiv and launch it toward his throat, but he is too quick and strong. He grasps my wrist and forces the blade from my hand.

Oh God, my last hope.

"Now, this is just the thing, Señorita," he says, picking up my blade and cutting through the waist cords of my trousers and drawers and then yanking them down and off.

"Get back, you ugly son of a bitch!" shouts Joannie, and kicks at him with her feet. He merely laughs and flings her to the floor, and then he comes back at me.

"Muy bonita. Very pretty, sí, yes, it is," he hisses, and then undoes his pants.

Oh Lord, please ... no...

El Feo rises above me and takes my knees in his hands, ready to pull them apart.

"Now cry some more, pobrecita. Oh, you will not?" Bueno. Suppose I do the little one first and make you watch? Eh, muchacha, will that make you cry? Eh?"

It will, and tears pour out of my eyes, and in a blind rage against this horror, I struggle and squirm, but I know it will avail me—or Joannie—nothing. A corner of my despairing mind hears the rattling of something ... What? ... A cage door? Then...

"Cluck?"

What?

Then ... "Cluck?" again ... and then...

"COCK-A-DOODLE-DO!"

And then El Gringo Furioso, in full fighting fig, launches himself at El Feo's feathered headdress, slashing away with spurs and beak.

Already blood is showing around Feo's cheeks and eyes, for Gringo is strong and he is fast.

"Madre de Dios!" Feo screams, clawing at the bird, but Gringo is relentless. It occurs to my half-crazed mind that Daniel, in his haste to get back to the ship after Joannie had been taken, had thrust Gringo back into the cage I kept in my cabin but had forgotten to remove his spurs. Now Joan-nie has managed to open the cage latch with her feet, releasing the bird to do what it does best.

"Eeeeyow!" screeches El Feo, but this time it is not solely because of Gringo. I sit up to see that Joannie has attached herself to Feo's calf with her teeth and is clamped on good and hard. He kicks, but she stays on.

Then the door flies open, and through my upraised knees, I expect to see Feo's men come to his aid, but I do not see that.

What I see is a large African woman holding the world's biggest frying pan over her shoulder. She booms out, "What you got on your mind to do to that little girl, you?" Then she swings the huge black skillet and brings it to the back of Feo's ugly head.

BOOOOOOOONNNGGGG!

El Feo sits straight up, his eyes crossed.

"I don't think you got nothin' on your mind now, no," asserts Jemimah as she swings again.

BOOOOOOONNNNGGGG!

The pirate's eyes roll back in his head, and he topples over and off the bed.

"Jemimah! Thank God!" exults Joannie.

Such good friends!

But no time for thanks now, and no time for clothes, either. I leap off the bed, grab my shiv from the floor, and, starkers, I head out the door.

El Feo's men are festooned about the deck, groaning and holding their heads. It is plain that after being made groggy by the opium, they have been easily dispatched by Jemimah and her skillet.

I run to the forward hatch, throw the latch, and shout down, "Come, lads! You're free! Quick now! No time to lose!"

I hear their scrambling feet on the ladder as I jump over to El Diablo. Flaco lifts his head and smiles as he sees me, knife in hand, coming to free him.

"Un ángel de cielo," he says, "clothed in the finest of garments."

"Never mind that, you," I say as I hack through his bonds. "Go now and set your men free."

"What of the others? The traitors?"

I look toward the beach from which we hear screams, and, I swear, the crunching of bones. I'd like to think that a certain one-eyed monster, the one that tried to eat Joannie and lost an eye in the process, is the one that got Flashby. The beast certainly had a right to bear a grudge against us Brits, and I hope Brother Gator took great satisfaction in the taste of that particular Englishman.

"I do not think they will be back. But still, we must be quick!"

I leap back onto the Nancy and see my men pouring out of the fore hatch.

"Secure the ship! Tie up these rascals. Help Flaco with those over there! Jim, take us farther out to sea. Davy, Tink, haul that piece of dirt out of my cabin. Higgins, to me!"

And I dive back into my cabin, chest heaving, as El Feo is being hauled out. Higgins follows me in.

"Miss. I fear you were...?"

"No. But it was a close thing."

"I am very glad you did not suffer that," says Higgins. "What shall you wear?"

I look at the remnants of my usual sailing gear lying on the deck and say, "I guess my uniform will serve. The Dolphin will be here soon and I must be presentable."

"Yes, Miss."

As Higgins goes to my chest to get my clothes, I pick up El Gringo, who has been strutting about the deck, seemingly very pleased with himself. I plant a kiss upon his cockscomb and say, "My hero," and put him back in his cage. "Much good food and many plump and comely hens are coming to you, Brother Rooster."

After I am dressed, I go back out on deck to find that I am just in time for an execution. El Feo has been brought back to his senses, enough to know that he is about to be hanged.

He stands on the deck of El Diablo Rojo with a noose around his neck, hands tied behind him, glaring about with hatred—and fear—burning in his eyes. There are four strong men at the other end of the line, ready to haul him up.

Flaco is once again in full command of his ship, and I am glad of it. Those sailors who had been drugged and clubbed have once again sworn allegiance to him and have been added back to his crew. They had stood in fear of El Feo before, when he had taken Flaco's ship, but they fear him no longer.

"Captain Faber," says Flaco. "It is your ship that took this brute down. Say the word."

I think of being merciful, but then I consider what he was going to do to Joannie, and what he did to Danny, and what he was going to do to all of us...

...and I nod.

El Feo is pulled ten feet off the deck. He twists and kicks for a long time, for his neck is thick. Then it is over.

His body is left hanging for twenty minutes or so and then is lowered and pitched over the side.

The only words spoken were mine.

"It is a shame to pollute the bottom of this beautiful sea with your carcass. I am sure you are already in Hell, El Feo, and I wish you the joy of the place."

It occurs to me later that yet another skeleton will now rest with the Santa Magdalena. How many more will there be?

Chapter 49

"So, Flaco. You will head back to Bahia Honda?" We are taking breakfast in my cabin. It is a cool and extremely lovely day, with sunlight streaming in the open windows and a gentle breeze blowing the curtains about. My torn sailor gear is being resewn, so, upon rising this morning, I donned my uniform shirt and trousers again. Actually, I suspect we shall see the Dolphin today, so I want to be dressed and ready. And, yes, I slept alone last night, though not for want of trying on Flaco's part. No, he had to be satisfied with a hug and kiss after dinner, which was a veritable feast that saw a lot of serious celebration on the part of both our crews.

"Yes, dear heart, if I must leave you, it will be to Bahia Honda I will go," he says with a sigh. "I must fill out my crew as I am short-handed right now ... due to the cunning of a certain beautiful bandida."

"With the help of several dozen large and hungry reptiles," I say with a laugh. "Here, try the orange marmalade. It is very good." I spoon a good bit of it onto my toast and pop it into my mouth. Mmmmmm ... it is good to be alive and tasting orange marmalade.

"Such a thing of beauty ... and so refined," laughs Flaco, looking at the bit of golden jelly that had worked its way out of the corner of my mouth, but which I had managed to catch with my napkin before it hit my spotless white trousers.

"Umm ... well ... your pardon, Señor."

The door opens and Joannie enters with a fresh pot of hot coffee and refills our cups. I reach over and ruffle her hair. "Thank you, my wild and fierce little Cockney," I say fondly.

She blushes prettily and leaves, I'm sure, to go back to her Daniel. He has recovered completely from the late El Feo's blow, and Joannie has pronounced the lad her hero and informed him that he shall never lack for kisses. Not from her, anyway.

"Why do you not give me half of the gold, then we shall raise our flags together and raid this ocean like we did before?" asks Flaco. "No, we shall raid like never before! We can buy more ships! Big ones! I know I can rouse the mighty Chucho with the promise of a ship of his own. We can mount a fleet and take every port in the Caribbean. You can be la gobernadora of Santo Domingo and I will rule over Jamaica. We will throw out both the Spanish Dons and the English Bulldogs! Yes, and the French, too! We shall be the King and Queen of the West Indies, you and I."

"Although the notion is intriguing, Flaco, I'm afraid I have no gold to give," I say, putting my hand on his arm. "And I fear that the Golden Age of the bold buccaneer is over. The British and the French and the Spanish are just too strong, and now the Americans, too. There's just too many of them. Face it, mi querido, it might be time to think of a nice rancho somewhere. Take a pretty and loving wife, and raise beautiful children."

"If you were to be that wife, Jacquelina, I might even consider that awful fate."

I laugh. "Dear Flaco, I do love you, in my way, but you know I am promised to another. As a matter of fact, I expect to see him very soon."

He claps his hand to his chest. "Ah, that another man shall pluck this rare and beautiful flower. It is too much for my poor heart!"

"Oh, I think you'll get over that plucking, you rascal. Here, soothe your tortured soul with another fine sausage."

Above, on the quarterdeck, a mouth is put to the speaking tube, and I hear, "Jacky. Ship on the horizon. We think it's the Dolphin."

I rise and go to the tube. "Be right up, Davy."

"It is the British frigate, this 'Dol-feen'?" asks Flaco. I nod.

"And it has aboard your intended esposo?"

Again I nod.

"Then I shall go and sink it, and then you will be free to roam the oceans of the world with your Flaco," he says, standing and putting his hand on the hilt of his sword and puffing out his chest.

"Go and sink it you will not," I say, laughing at the thought of the little brig El Diablo taking on the mighty forty-four-gun British frigate, fully manned and ready. "Butgo you must, as they will be here very shortly, and they may have some questions as to why the famed Hispanic pirate Captain Flaco Jimenez is hanging about one of their research vessels."

"I will go, mi corazón, but I know that we will sail together again someday."

"I know we shall, God willing. Now give me a farewell kiss and be off. I prefer you take it here, rather than out on deck, as my reputation is already in tatters."

My crew, bless 'em, have not said one single word about that little romp I took yesterday, bearing my shiv and clad only in my tattoo, but I know the story will get out.

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