Pirates of Blank, Part 2

“Ok, Rayburn! You're coming with us!” Something yanked at his back, but he pushed it back. He felt too warm...maybe a little stiff...

“Five more minutes, Helen,” he muttered. “Can't you just let a man sleep...yiiii!”

Cold water splashed over his head as he heard foghorn screams from across the room. “Wha...huh...” He raised his sore neck off his hands and found himself face-to-face with the biggest, hairiest soldier he'd ever seen. The fingers that yanked him to his feet were the size of sausages. “All right,” he grumbled, “I guess I'm awake now. You could have asked nicely.”

“Gene!” Brett screamed as a burly sailor threw her over his shoulder. “Damn it, you giant hunk of beef, put me down! Don't you have any manners? Would you treat your own mother this way? On second thought,” she added, looking down at his muscular backside, “don't answer that question. Hey, you don't have a bad back. Do you have a date for Friday night?”

“Brett,” Gene grumbled, “this is hardly the time to be asking these guys out.” He reached for his sword and managed to cut the belt off the nearest sailor, letting his pants fall down. “That's what you get for waking up a man before he's ready!”

He might have gotten the rest if he wasn't moving so slowly, thanks to that fog in his brain. Two sailors yanked his arms from behind, while another forced his sword out of his hand. “No! Give that back!” His attempts to fling out his legs ended with him being punched in the man parts and nearly ending up on the floor. “My old boss Captain Steve Allen gave that to me after our last raid together. You won't find anything like it anywhere! It was made specially for some rich governor in the Spanish colonies.”

The sailor laughed in his face. “Then it shouldn't belong to a second rate bilge rat like you.”

“Third-rate!” Brett called from over the other sailor's shoulder as he carried her to the main deck.

Lights from dozens of torches made Gene's eyes blink. Sailors tied his men together, even as they yawned and grumbled and complained about hangovers. The three women were shoved behind them, with Marcia growling that they'd get a knife in the gut if they touched them while trying to protect a wide-eyed Lorrie.

“Quite a motley assortment we have here, Captain Rayburn.” The diminutive snow haired dignitary in the fine sea-blue Naval uniform and huge feathered cap flashed his own pearly whites. “Is this a pirate ship or the chorus line from a bargain-basement company of a comic opera?” He buffed the cufflinks on his immaculate white silk sleeves with the huge ruffles. “Like them, Captain? Real pearls, imported from the Caribbean. Cost me five hundred dollars at a market in Boston.”

“Still showing off your valuables, I see, Governor Goodson.” Gene sneered. “How'd you like my crew to rip off some of those valuables? They might do better on the open market providing food for the villages you stiff than holding that rag you're wearing together.”

“Gene, Gene.” Goodson shook his head with a mock-exasperated sigh. “When are you going to learn to behave? I never had this problem with any of my other captains. If you'd just do what you're told and stand in place, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

“I'm not like that, Governor.” Gene's voice lowered dangerously. “I actually pay my people what they're worth, and I enjoy my work. How much are you paying these wharf mongers of yours?”

Goodson glared daggers at him. “None of your business.”

There was a commotion as the sailor dropped Brett, her ankles now free, on the deck. “Hello, Mark,” she purred. “What brings you this way? Decided you liked the view?”

“Charming as always, Mistress Klugman,” Goodman chuckled as he lifted her chin hard. “I'm certainly glad my new partner gave me the exact coordinates of your location. How long did you think you could hide from your husband?”

She made a face. “Until the end of time would have been nice.”

Charles gasped as Richard shoved him into the crowd. “You have a husband?”

“Oh, yes.” Goodson held out a slightly tattered scroll. “Dr. Jack Klugman, a prominent coroner from Philadelphia, is offering a substantial reward for his wife's return or any news of her whereabouts.”

“He's a compulsive gambler who lost half his money in back rooms at Philly taverns!” she snarled. “He probably wants me back just so he can have more money to lose. Besides, all we ever did was fight. I took my sons and went home. My boys are with their sister and grandparents in Maine Territory.”

“Gentlemen,” Goodson proclaimed, “untie this lovely lady. She'll be our guest on this return voyage.”

“On one condition.” Brett stood firm. “The women stay with me. I don't want any of your gorillas touching a hair on their heads. If I see even one false eyelash out of place...”

“Of course.” Goodson gallantly kissed her hand. “Each and every one will be brought to New York completely unharmed. I wouldn't dream of hurting ladies of your quality.”

“What about the rest of us?” Bill Daily called from where he and the men were lashed tightly together on the deck. “Do we get to stay with Gene?”

Scoey tugged his hand out to flick the ashes from his cigar on the deck. “Yeah, man. Are we under arrest, or are we just going to stand here and look pretty?”

Goodson walked up and down the deck, looking the entire crowd over like he was inspecting the mast on a ship. “I thought of making you join my crew, but now I see you wouldn't be fit to shine their boots. Think I'll take you all back to land and put you on trial for piracy and grand theft larceny. You'll be lucky if you don't end up being sent to the sugar plantations in the Caribbean. They could use strong backs like yours.”

Scoey's dark eyes were hot, raging coals. “Not on your life, little man. Never again.”

“Don't worry, Scoey,” Gene insisted. “I won't let that happen.”

One of the men dragged Lorrie out from behind Marcia. “Hey General, look what I found! Isn't this a tasty little morsel?”

“No!” Brett tried to lunge for him, but two men yanked her back. “She's just a baby! Get your hands off her!”

“Hey!” One of the tallest and lankiest of the sailors, with thick black hair under his jaunty white cap, pushed his way through the others. “Don't manhandle her! She's my wife!”

“Anson!” Lorrie ran to his arms as the other sailors whistled. “What are you doing here?”

He wrapped his long limbs hard around her slender torso. “I work on this ship. What are you doing here?”

“I hadn't heard from you in months, so I went to find you.” She gave him a deep kiss.

“We were at sea, sweetheart!” He blushed as several sailors and all of Gene's crew whistled. “Um, I think we'd better save this for later, when we're alone.”

“Well,” Goodson chuckled, “isn't this touching?”

“Leave them alone, Mark!” Gene grumbled, struggling against the burly sailors. “They're kids in love. Weren't you ever a kid in love?”

“Oh, I have no interest in them. We'll return her to land as soon as we can.” He turned to Gene with a smile that closely resembled that of a hungry shark. “You, however, interest me a great deal. I've wanted you on trial for a long time. You and those stage rejects of yours will dangle on the end of a hangman's noose the moment we get to land.”

“Richard,” Charles wailed as the sailors grabbed him from his arms and yanked his arms behind his back, “what's going on? Why are you doing this?” He gulped. The way the sailors looked at him made him feel like a piece of steak they wanted to stick a fork into.

Goodson nearly fell over laughing. “You mean you don't know? He hasn't told you?” He patted Richard on the shoulder. “This is the newest captain in my fleet, the head of the schooner Family Fortunes...which I helped bankroll, of course. You even did me a favor, picking up the gold and jewels stolen from the Casa Del Internationale. I'll be able to return them to their real owners for a nice, fat reward.”

“Which I'm sure will go right in your pocket,” Marcia muttered.

“Oh, yes.” Goodman chuckled. “He told me all about the little raid you planned on the Star Squares. Saves me the trouble of having to chase them.”

“This is your patron, Rich?” Gene hissed. “Him?”

“You betrayed us all, you little bastard!” Brett shrieked. “I ought to knock you back to the hell you came from!” Three sailors threw their guns in front of her face before she could get near him.

Richard made a face. “It was the only way I could get my own ship. I didn't have enough money, and I wanted out. Goodson promised me the rest of the money for the Fortunes if I turned all of you in.”

“Damn it, Rich,” Dick grumbled angrily as he tried to get at him, “this is not my idea of a fun party! How could you do this? I thought you were our friend!”

“Charles!” Gary ducked under legs and ran towards the sailors holding onto his former teacher. “Let him go!” One of the sailors easily picked him up and hauled him off the deck. “Don't you touch him, you god-damn assholes, or I'll send you into the next seven layers of hell!” The diminutive youth threw out a litany of curses to their lineage at the top of his considerable lungs.

“Man, Rich, you're a traitor!” Jimmie added as he swung from the crow's next, shaking a bony fist. “The Black Prince ought to personally see to it that you have a knuckle sandwich for a midnight snack!”

“You know, Rayburn” Mark added, “I don't think I'll keep you with them. You'll just encourage their antics. I think it's time I got rid of you.” He tapped his polished boot on a long piece of wood. “Perfect. Why don't we give the great pirate captain a taste of his own medicine and make him walk the plank?”

“Hey, now,” Richard growled, “that wasn't part of the deal! They were all supposed to go to land and stand trial, including Gene. You promised you wouldn't hurt them!”

“I changed my mind.” Goodson snorted. “Make sure he can't move his arms and legs. I don't want anyone finding the body.”

“Oh no, you don't.” Brett growled, trying to jump at him. “If anyone on land finds out you've done this...”

“Who will they believe?” Goodson chuckled. “Me, or an older woman and a group of sadistic sea thieves?”

“Damn it, Goodson, so help me,” Gene snarled as two of the sailors wound rope tightly around his torso, lashing his arms to his body, and then even rougher around his knees, “when I get out of this, I'll come back and hit you so hard, your nose will land half-way across the Atlantic!”

“If you get out of this,” Goodson reminded him, “which I doubt you will.” One of the soldiers handed him Gene's sword. “Thank you. What fine craftsmanship! Just beautiful. Belonged to your old friend Captain Allen, didn't it, Rayburn? I enjoyed destroying his ship the Tonight several years ago,” he pointed the blade at Gene's back, “and now, I'll equally enjoy getting rid of his protege and his leaky tub.”

“Don't even think about it.” Gene struggled, trying to loosen the ropes. “I've worked hard on this ship! We all have. You can't just blow it out from under us!”

“What I do with this ship is the least of your worries, Rayburn.”

Two of the sailors forced Gene onto the narrow piece of wood jutting over the choppy Atlantic water. “Goodson,” he growled, turning around, “I swear I will come back and haunt you until the end of your days. You will never be able to get away from me! Wherever you turn, I'll be there!”

“And I'll wait up for it!” Goodson grinned and poked him harder with the sword. “Good bye, Rayburn! Say hello to the fishes for me!”

With his knees tied, Gene could barely move. He finally stumbled down the plank, looking down at those green waters and the blustery cold winds. He gulped, then held his breath, bent his knees, and attempted a dive that ended up more like a rather messy belly-flop.