Captain James Hook and the Curse of Peter Pan (18 page)

Out of respect for the man who taught me so much, I gave Blackbeard an hour’s reflection before setting my mind to the task at hand.
 
Unlike the death of my true father, I was now a man and a man doesn’t waste such a fine opportunity.
 

After a quick robbery of a French port, we had enough louis-d’ors to entice Jesse Labette to meet me here.
 

“You’re joining me in the cabin,” I said to William.
 
“John Silver’s the new Quartermaster. He’ll be in the cabin, alongside Labette.”
 
William grunted his understanding and clenched his fists with anticipation.
 
He and Silver nearly had it out last time and he was as eager as I was to draw blood today.
 
“I want him alive,” I told him. William stopped mid-breath and turned to me with a puzzled look.
 
Realizing that I was being greedy, I allowed him a concession, “Bruised, but unhurt.”
 
A broad grin of genuine happiness stretched across his face.

The
Jolly Roger
, or the
Britannia
as she was named under my father’s command, was a tall, older brigantine.
 
She approached and made her true size clear by the shadow she cast on our sloop.
 
We would be fools to attack her directly.
 
Labette would not need to trouble himself with any of the dozens of guns on the ship. One shot from Long Tom would end us for certain.

“Ahoy,” called a ragged man aboard the
Jolly Roger
.
 
I returned the greeting and nodded to Cecco and Starkey, who began setting the plan into motion.
 
William, Smee, and I stood along the railing while the men on deck tethered lines to hooks and cast them onto the
Jolly Roger
.
 
They drew the ships closer to one another and extended planks across each deck.
 
The crew of the brigantine greeted us with fake smiles and forced cheers.
 
Throughout this, I remained steady, watching each man’s movement.

A cold chill ran through me as we stepped onto the plank that connected the two ships. The
Jolly Roger
groaned and growled, but I steeled myself to her threats.
 
Her crew watched us out of the sides of their eyes, nearly twice our number and armed to the teeth.

Then I saw him.
 
Jesse Labette, the murderer of my father, whose tall slender frame was capped by the same wide-brimmed black hat, grinned at me with a sparkle of recognition in his eyes. To his left was John Silver, taller and broader than I remembered him.
 
To his right was the same ragged sailor that hailed our ship earlier.

William, Smee, and I lined ourselves up, facing our prey.
 
Labette stepped forward and bowed.

“Welcome aboard the
Jolly Roger
, Captain Hook,” he said.
 
“I hear you have French treasures for trade.”

“That, and much more, Captain Labette,” I told him.
 
He approached me with his arms outstretched and laughed broadly.

“Come, Captain Hook,” he cackled.
 
“You can teach me what more there is to life than French women and French money.”
 
He led us to the door of the captain’s quarters.
 
Smee and the ragged pirate waited outside while Labette and Silver walked into the cabin.
 
William ducked through the doorway and looked back as if to ask if I was coming.
 
I nodded and stepped inside.

The room was as I remembered it from my youth.
 
Wall for wall.
 
Angle for angle.
 
Jesse Labette sat behind an oak desk and removed his hat, revealing long hair that was tightly pulled back.
 
Its fair color framed his stern, lean face.
 
When the door shut behind me, I breathed a small sigh of relief, knowing that my part of the plan was over.
 
Now that we were alone, I sat opposite Labette and smiled with everything except for my eyes.

“So, Captain Hook,” Jesse Labette said. “Tell me about my louis-d’ors.”

“They’re not yours yet,” I told him.
 
“And you’ll have however much you can get in even trade.”
 

“How much could you have on such a small ship?” he asked.
 
He and John Silver shared a look.
 
No doubt they planned to take the money regardless of what was agreed to here.
 
It was fortunate for me that my plan was already in motion.

“Enough to bring you to me,” I said.

“Don’t waste my time,” he snarled.
 
“I’m due south of Bermuda in two days.”

“You’ll be late,” William said not quietly enough to be ignored.
 
Jesse Labette and John Silver snapped a look to William and then to each other, unsure of what to make of the comment.

“Forgive Bill Jukes,” I said.
 
“He’s something of a wonder in predicting storms.”
 
A few uneasy moments passed before Labette leaned forward to speak again.

“And what is it that you have to trade other than money?” he asked.

“Information,” I told him.
 
He leaned back and snorted his mistrust.
 
Information was always a gamble in the world of trade.
 
I decided to tempt him further, “It is a matter of life and death.”

“Is it now?” he said, leaning in again.
 
“Whose?”

“Yours,” William said. I shot him a look that silenced him for the rest of the negotiation.
 
Labette’s face visibly reddened as he narrowed his piercing gaze at William.

“Your mate wouldn’t be threatening me, would he?”

“Certainly not,” I told him.
 
“I happen to know that two men aboard your ship have done little but plan your death for years.”
 
He looked from William to me without changing his sour expression.
 
He breathed deeply twice before letting loose with a full-bellied laugh.

“My death?” he bellowed.
 
“And what have I done to earn such ire?” he added with mock innocence.
 
John Silver joined in with laughter of his own.

“You killed their fathers when you took this ship,” I told him through gritted teeth.

“That’s all?” he cackled.
 
“I had to take this brig.
 
Two shots from this old girl and I had to scrap my last ship.
 
She was in a bad way, but we fixed her up fine.”

“Their lives mean nothing?” I asked him.

“I’ve killed scores of fathers and I’ve sunk a dozen ships.” He and Silver continued their hearty laughter so loudly that they failed to hear a loud thud below deck.
 
“But if the two men you speak of were from this ship, they must be ghosts or shades.
 
All hands were lost.”

“Not all hands,” I told him.
 
“And although they may be shades of themselves, they are here.”
 
This time, we all heard the tumbling and shouting beneath us.
 
Labette looked to Silver, then back to me.
 
Visibly concerned, he stopped laughing and straightened himself.

“Alright,” he said, “Who?”

“No,” I told him.
 
“Not until we name a price.” The first gunshots thundered in our ears as the rumble spilled out from below onto the main deck.

“Grain?” he offered. “Dried fruit or meat?”

“No,” I told him.
 
Grunts, just outside of the door, rose to a gurgled scream and ended in silence.
 
Flashes of panic began to crack Jesse Labette’s unshakable façade. “Not enough.”

“Not enough?” he cried.
 
“Fine, silver? … gold?”
 
He looked to us before throwing his hands up in anger.
 
“What more is there?”

The speed at which I drew my hook from within my coat and plunged it into his chest did nothing to take away the enjoyment of the job.
 
It was a high, hard, overhand strike that purposely just missed his heart.
 
I wondered if he thought, even for the briefest moment, that the light that so blinded his eyes was from heaven.
 
He had to know that men like us didn’t see heaven.
 
At best, we may only get halfway there.
 

“Blood,” I told him.

William was on John Silver before the first gurgles of spittle came forth from Labette’s mouth.
 
The noise from their brawl nearly eclipsed the roar from outside the cabin. It was a sound not unlike that of pounding beef with a wide mallet mixed with muffled cries, but I didn’t turn to look.
 
My eyes were fixed on Labette’s increasingly distant gaze.

“Get us outside,” I told William.
 
With the order given, William hoisted John Silver over his shoulder and heaved the broad man through the door, splintering it to pieces.

“Where do you think you’re going?” William snickered as he ducked through the doorway and lumbered after him.

Using the hook, I dragged Labette out of the cabin and into the chaos on the deck of the ship.
 
When I got to the main mast, I pulled my still sparkling hook from his chest and propped him up in time to watch his crew fall at my hands.
 

He saw it all.
 
Smee thrust his sword into one pirate after another, joyously calling out “Johnny Corkscrew” as he twisted the blade.
 
Starkey stabbed not one, but two men at the same time before gunning down a third. Noodler strangled the pirate with the salt-crusted beard using only his backwards hands.
 
Cecco, the Italian, wrapped his chains around a neck of one man and stabbed at another.
 
Robert Mullins, Alf Mason, Skylights, Ed Teynte, and a dozen more ravaged their way through the ship.

Out of something similar to professional courtesy, I called to Smee.
 
The stout Irishman pried a blunderbuss out from a dead man’s hands and blasted Labette’s chest open before kicking him over the bow.
 
We stood at the railing for several seconds and watched the dread pirate bob and float before finally sinking into the cold waters below.

As I turned to rejoin the fray, one pirate lunged after me with a sword.
 
William stopped him as one would stop a child.
 
He crushed the pirate’s hands around the hilt, disarmed him, and killed him before returning to continue throttling John Silver.
 

“Enough!” I barked.
 
Each of my men pulled back to a ready position.
 
The remaining men in Labette’s crew recovered their footing and stared at each other in confusion, wondering why they were still breathing.
 
“My fight isn’t with you. We’re done here,” I told them, then looked to John Silver, who was holding his side. “Nearly.”

A sword stuck out from the back of a man at my feet.
 
I pulled it and threw it down in front of John Silver.

“Pick it up,” I told him.
 
He went for it at first, but stopped to look at William, who just smiled.
 
He turned to grab for it a second time, but stopped again when he met my eyes, my drawn sword, and my ready guard. He stopped for a breath of time and considered himself carefully, perhaps for the first time.

“If we fight, you’d kill me,” he said.

“Without hesitation,” I told him.
 
He looked to William, then back down at the sword again before meeting my eyes.

“So why don’t you?” he asked.

“Because, I owe you,” I said, lowering my sword.
 
“In spite of yourself, you taught me a valuable lesson.”
 
I raised my father’s sword, measured the distance, stepped hard with my lead foot, and drove the point of it just short of the tip of his nose.
 
“This thrust ended the life of my father’s betrayer and my lover’s killer.”
 
He stared at it but dared not swat it away.
 
“And in return for your lesson, I offer this one in return.” I drew the sword back and waved it around at the carnage I had created.

“How’d you do this?” he asked. “We had you out-manned and out-gunned.”

“Patience,” I told him. “Nothing a little planning couldn’t take care of.
 
Years ago, I noticed that Jesse Labette ran this ship with a skeleton crew.
 
Either he relied too heavily on Long Tom or he preferred to split any prizes in as few ways as possible.”
 
Silver bowed his head and looked up again, silently admitting that I guessed correctly on both tries.
 
“Our haul of louis-d’ors drew him in.
 
Once the ships were tethered, I had my crew take to the water and swim unseen to the far side of the
Jolly Roger
.
 
There, they were able to scale the far side and get in through the cannon hatches.”
 
Silver and his remaining crewmates shot looks of accusation at one another.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said.
 
“Your crew was on the near side of the ship in preparation for a more traditional double-cross.
 
I’m sorry to disappoint you.” William and Starkey stifled a laugh between themselves.
 
Smee, Noodler, and Cecco cackled and hooted loudly.

“Now, leave my ship and tell every man you see who it was that let you live.
 
Tell them that Captain Hook now commands the
Jolly Roger
.”
 

Silver stared at the sword at his feet for several seconds before turning to the boards that bridge the two ships.
 
William and the rest of my crew hustled the men onto the sloop and tied them to the masts.
 
We loaded the cannons and nearly all of the supplies onto the
Jolly Roger
before separating the ships.
 
When we were at a distance, Cecco threw a knife that stuck into the mast beside John Silver’s head.