Back-stabber

Jonas blew out the match and let the scorched stick fall to the ground. In the meantime, all of Jonas’ crew members had their hands raised in the air. How could this have happened? I had David and Lamar keeping watch so we could avoid exactly this kind of sticky situation. Just then David appeared with his hands in the air and stumbled over to his fellow crew members. There was no trace of Lamar at all – this low-down, dirty rat really did double-cross us, thought Black bitterly! David slowly approached Jonas, like a dog with its tail between its legs.
“Capt’n, I am so, so sorry,” he exhaled.

“Why are you sorry? It’s not like this is your fault,” retorted Jonas.

“Yes it is,” said David, as he lowered his hands and ripped off the carpenter’s clothing so as to reveal Jonas’ real clothing underneath. Then he unbuckled Jonas’ sword belt, took the musket out of his pants pocket and threw both to the ground.

“Et tu, David?“ he moaned. “But … why?!”

“I am really sorry, Capt’n, but I owe House Lodos a hefty sum and Antonio Lodos’ right-hand man promised to forgive my debts if I betrayed you. I couldn’t this offer down, you have to understand!”

“I understand that you’re a yellow, duplicitous Benedict Arnold,” Jonas hissed venomously. He spat at his first mate’s feet while the rest of the crew stood rooted to the spot, their faces twisted in astonishment.


Lamar

“It’s always nice when you can rely on your crew, eh Capt’n,” laughed the sentinels’ officer. Black’s men had surrendered their weapons and stood like frightened forest animals, completely surrounded by harbor sentinels.

“Alright, then. Come with us – you’re all going to jail,” said the officer. “The other inmates will be happy to get some fresh mea…”

All of a sudden, Lamar rammed into the officer and the rest of the sentinels legs first. The old sea dog had managed to climb up one of the stage’s columns and swing down on a rope all without being noticed. For a moment, the scene under the stage turned into total mayhem. Quite a few of the watchmen lay on the ground, buried under their leader, or they were scrambling to get back up. The rest of them look around searching in bewilderment for their leader or tried to help their fellow sentinels who had been knocked unconscious. Jonas and his crew didn’t skip a beat, moving like jungle cats. Jonas dove for his sword, jumped up and smashed one of the sentinels in the face with the hilt of his sword in the process. The man grabbed his face and crumpled to the ground like a heap of dirty clothes. Jonas lunged, thus avoiding an attacking watchman’s bayonet, grabbed his opponent’s arm and plunged the blade of his sword deep into his chest. A raucous brawl had broken out all around him and shots were beginning to fly. His crew members were all wrestling with the sentinels and slowly they were beginning to win the upper hand. Jonas saw Lamar send one of the guards to the ground with a forceful, swooping left hook. A warning call was issued and Black knew that they didn’t have long before watchmen would show up.

“Time to get the hell outta here,” Jonas shouted at his crew.

“What about the fuse,” Lamar asked.

“Forget the fuse and forget this job. We have to make like the wind and blow outta here before we land ourselves in the gallows. Where’s George?” Jonas had a quick look around and his eyes landed on the motionless body of Jonas, lying dead underneath two sentinels. The sooty, gaping holes were in the middle of his chest and Jonas knew that there was nothing they could do. Another warning call rang out, this time closer and more shrill. “Run,” Jonas shouted as the first shots missed them and lodged into the trusses underneath the stage. Crouched as low as possible, they scurried from cover to cover. The boom of firing muskets was masked by the roar of the crowd, but the shots zipping past their heads was all the proof they needed to know they were real. All we have to do now is make it to the ship, Jonas thought sarcastically.