Order of the Black Sun Box Set 9

by Preston William Child

  The potential of that prize danced across Admiral Ogden's face. A cache like that would be a great target to hit and an even better trophy to add to their collection. Best of all, with its schedule, they would have the means to plan a perfect ambush.

  It was far too large of a job for one ship, though. Even two ships would be risky and three would still be difficult. No, they would need the full might of his power to bring to bear. As many of his fleet that he could amass.

  “Send word out to all of the captains, it doesn't matter what bloody ocean they're in right now. We'll need them. As many as we can muster for this.”

  Gregory looked a bit bewildered by the decision. It had been some time since the fleet came together as one functioning unit. It would surely be a sight to behold. He nodded dutifully, but looked rather anxious as he set out to complete his task.

  The galleon didn't seem to know how to respond to the dozen ships that descended upon it. It was surrounded before it even had the chance to try to flee. It was well armed, as expected, given the contents of its cargo, and would have been able to handle up to maybe three of their ships with ease, but it wasn't ready to take on an entire fleet of pirates by itself.

  Admiral Ogden gave his ships strict orders not to sink the galleon, even if it did try to put up a fight. They couldn't risk losing that gold to the currents. They would have to board and capture the ship and plunder its cache.

  Once their blockade was cemented, a white flag of surrender waved above the galleon. Ogden brought the Scarlet Wing closer, its red canvas leading the assault. Once they were close, Ogden took a number of longboats as part of a boarding party. Just to be safe, other members of their fleet sent their own longboats to aid in the takeover.

  The Spanish galleon was swarmed by pirates rowing toward it. They may have surrendered but Ogden had fallen victim to ploys like that in the past. A white flag to lure attackers in with their guards down and full of confidence, primed to fall prey to a trap. He wouldn't make that mistake. As they approached, he eyed the galleon's cannons carefully. The Spanish could easily open fire on the encroaching rowboats. They would be far easier to face than the fleet itself.

  The crew made their way up to the galleon's deck. Admiral Ogden drew his cutlass; if there was a fight waiting for them on the deck, he was going to be ready for it. When they pulled themselves onto the galleon, he found the galleon's crew facing them, but they didn't have their weapons drawn. They were on their knees, with their hands on the deck. They really had surrendered. None of the Spaniards even spoke. They just kept their heads down.

  “Not putting up a fight,” Ogden said to one of them. “You made a very wise decision. Stay right where you are and we will be on our way in no time at all.”

  Ogden led a group below deck to the cargo hold. He kicked the door open and entered a room filled to the brim with boxes and chests. It was an incredible sight and he relished that this would be one of their biggest successes to date. Surprisingly, it hadn't been as much of a challenge as he expected, but it did make things easier to have a loyal armada at your back.

  Victorious, he opened up one of the closest chests—it was empty.

  He opened up the one beside it and it was just as hollow. He whistled and the men he brought below deck got to work prying open the crates and chests. It took some time but they found themselves no richer than they had been when they came inside. All of the chests were empty. There was no gold.

  Then what the hell was the galleon doing? Had the gold already been delivered? No. No, if it had, there wouldn't be any chests on board. It was transporting nothing of any value at all.

  There was a whistling and he could hear cannon fire somewhere outside.

  “Upstairs! Now!”

  When Ogden got back on deck, he found a battle raging in the waters around them. Royal navy warships had appeared and flanked his fleet's ships. They must have been hidden around the ben of the island's shoreline, out of view.

  This was a trap. It was all a trap, and he had sailed right into it. There had never been any gold being transported. It had just been shiny bait, and Ogden swam after it without a second thought. He should have been smarter than that. He knew it had been too easy but never questioned it. Damn his greed; and the shine of potentially vast amounts of gold for blinding him to what should have been obvious.

  He looked down at the prisoners who weren't acting like prisoners at all anymore. They were smiling now, probably embracing the role they had gotten to play in the surprise attack. Ogden wanted to execute them all on the spot, but there were bigger concerns.

  The blockade of vessels his fleet formed was quickly falling apart. Taken by surprise by the British armada, many of the ships were being blown apart by cannonballs on fire. Some even turned their ships around in hopes of escape but were immediately bombarded before they could sail away. Even the Scarlet Wing was being pelted by enemy fire.

  Admiral Ogden was helpless to protect the fleet he'd built. He couldn't stop the vessels from being overrun, decimated, and swallowed by the sea.

  Only one of his ships remained undamaged. The Iron Horn, captained by his old first mate, Jacob Morrow. It had miraculously avoided being hit by any enemy. Strangely, the naval vessels didn't seem to be targeting the Iron Horn at all. No cannonballs splashed anywhere near it, in any direction. They were treating Morrow's vessel like it was one of their own—maybe it was.

  That troubling thought clawed into Ogden's head and planted itself there. That was it. All of this had been orchestrated by Morrow. One of his most trusted allies had betrayed him.

  The Iron Horn came beside the galleon. Some of the men at Ogden's side celebrated its arrival, thinking it was a rescue and that Morrow would ferry them to safety, but Ogden could see the truth. He could see it so clearly. The Iron Horn's sails were being carried by the winds of treachery.

  When he looked at the ship's deck, Morrow's expression confirmed the theories that were frantically bouncing in his head. Morrow looked elated, happier than Ogden had seen him look in years. And when his crew threw down planks between the ships and started boarding the galleon, the men beside Ogden hoping for a rescue quickly learned the truth when their former comrades started cutting them down one-by-one.

  A fight broke out as Ogden's boarding party tried to defend themselves. The admiral half-heartily jointed the brawl, but felt a crippling sense of dread come over him as he fought. What did it matter to fight back? His legendary pirate fleet was obliterated. The men under his command were being slaughtered. Even if he killed Morrow and his crew for turning on him, there was a still a fleet of British vessels to contend with. He couldn't hope to defeat them. He wouldn't stand a chance.

  Captain Morrow himself crossed the plank to the galleon and entered the fray, sword in hand. He sliced and stabbed his way through the crowd, coming for Ogden.

  Despite the despair sweeping over him, Ogden welcomed the chance to run his sword through Morrow. If this was indeed going to be Admiral Ogden's final battle, he would make sure that traitor was dead before he fell.

  Morrow had always been a capable swordsman but Ogden knew he could best him in a proper duel. Unfortunately, Morrow didn't seem interested in a proper duel at all. Once he was closing in on Ogden, he drew his pistol from his belt and fired a shot into the admirals leg. Ogden's body buckled beneath him and he fell to one knee. Morrow brought his cutlass down, but even injured, Ogden held him at bay with his own weapon. He had to even the playing field or he was going to be killed.

  He waited until Morrow took another swing and when their swords clashed, Ogden took hold of Morrow's wrist and pulled him down to the deck. The two men grappled and wrestled about while the rest of the deck was filled with the sounds of screams and clattering metal. It was far from a traditional duel, but if Morrow wanted a rougher fight, then Ogden would be sure that it was exactly what he received.

  After a brief but intense struggle, Ogden overpowered Morrow. He wrapped his fingers around Morrow's throat, r
eady to wring his neck. All of that confidence and pride that Morrow showed during his betrayal washed away, replaced by horror at the realization that he was going to lose.

  “Help! Help!” Morrow gasped out. “Get this bastard off of me!”

  Ogden squeezed his neck harder, hoping to silence him. It was no use, though, as his pleas were heard by his crew and some of the navy soldiers coming on board the galleon. Something hard struck Ogden on the back of the head and he fell to his stomach in a daze. Morrow slowly got to his feet as two men heaved Ogden up and restrained him.

  “You always were a lecherous little shit, weren't you?” Ogden groaned. “I knew that already, of course, but never thought that you would throw your hat in with England. It didn't think you were that much of a coward. You couldn't just face me yourself. You had to go crawling to the crown and beg them for help. You damn child. So, you're what ... enlisted as a proud member of the royal navy now?”

  “Privateer, actually,” Morrow said, his smugness returning now that he was out of harm's way and in control. “I told you that we should be trying to increase our station in life. Now I get to be a pirate legally.”

  “Not a pirate at all then,” Ogden said coldly. “A government dog. That's all. All because I wouldn't give up and waste the gold like you wanted me to.”

  “With that many men, that many ships, I couldn't exactly put together a mutiny, could I? It would have been incredibly foolish. That fire would have been snuffed out before it began. I'm no fool.”

  Ogden laughed, not at all convinced of that.

  “You can mock me all you want. It was the most intelligent move to make,” Morrow said with a shrug. “As one man with a handful of supporters, I wouldn't have stood a chance against the great pirate fleet of Walton Ogden. But as a privateer ... as a privateer with intimate knowledge of that fleet, the crown backs me happily. Better to be an asset to them than a tool to help you needlessly throw our lives away in search of needless wealth.”

  “That's it then?” Ogden asked, forcing a smile. “You paint yourself as a genius tactician, when in truth you're just a traitorous leech that has thrown away all trust we ever put in you. Look around you. These people were your crew. Your family once. Jacob ... we were friends.”

  “Were we?” Morrow glanced around at the bodies on deck and the burning ships across the water. “I imagine friends would share the spoils that they both helped to earn. Instead, you have hoarded our collected treasure in some undisclosed location and kept it all for yourself. That belonged to all of us. Not just you. The other captains in the fleet might have been content with letting you decided what to do with the treasure, but I wasn't.”

  “Clearly,” Ogden said sharply. “You never were easy to please were you?”

  “And you were never satisfied, no matter how much coin you put in your pocket. I'm done letting your insatiable greed put my life at risk.”

  “Well...” Ogden leaned forward as much as he could. “You've obviously made your decision. Go on then. Tell your men to get their grubby little hands off me and let's finish this right here and now.”

  “Finish?” Morrow chuckled. “You're mistaken, Walton. This is just the beginning. We have dealt these ships of yours a large blow. And with you defeated, your remaining legion of pirates won't be much trouble at all. I told you, I know the inner workings of your armada better than anyone else. I know your ships and your crew, their strategies, and their routines. As we speak, we have dispatched ships to clear up the remaining ships that you have patrolling the waters for more victims. The few remaining that you didn't call to plunder this galleon or were too far away. That's the problem with having such a large force under the complete control of one man. You spread yourself thin, or group everyone to close together. We'll destroy everyone here, and then put holes in whatever ships you have left. They will sink to the ocean floor. Just like your flagship.”

  Ogden looked past Morrow at the red sails of the Scarlet Wing. It was on fire, clearly taking on water from the number of holes in the hull.

  “I will kill you for this,” Ogden said.

  “No. No, I don't think you will.”

  Morrow followed his gaze to the ship they once sailed on together. He looked back and smiled, pointing his sword at the flagship.

  “It is customary for the captain to go down with the ship, is it not? But, as you just love to point out all the time, you're not a captain anymore, are you, Walton? No, you're beyond that now, right? You're an admiral of an entire armada of vessels now. So you don't get the captain's privilege of joining your ship to the bottom of the sea. You'll just have to settle for watching.”

  Ogden tried to pull himself from the grip of the soldiers but they easily restrained him. All he could do now was watch as Morrow gave the order for his ship and his allies to open fire on the Scarlet Wing. His prized vessel exploded in a cloud of wood and start to slide down into the currents, where it would disappear in the depths. The seat of his power, where he had sailed all over the world and conducted countless raids, was swallowed by the waters it had sailed on for so long.

  Morrow looked pleased with the display, despite the fact that the ship had been his home too once. It baffled Ogden that his former first mate could get so much joy from seeing the Scarlet Wing fall and disappear from the world above.

  Its red sails would never touch the wind again.

  “So what now?” Ogden asked. He felt hollow; completely defeated. Part of him was furious that he hadn't seen Morrow's betrayal coming. He knew he was frustrated, but didn't know to what extent. He should have. He should have paid more attention. If he had, all of the crew's under his command, who had trusted him to lead them, might still be alive. The ships they manned might still be afloat. Ogden could still have everything. Instead, he was an admiral without any ships, and with very few men left to command. His life's work had been destroyed.

  All that remained was the treasure his shattered fleet had collected, and he was the only one who knew of its location. That gold was all he had left, and he wasn't going to hand it over. Not under any circumstances. Not ever.

  “We've crippled your support. England is very interested in the wealth you and I amassed from our pirating. They could put that much wealth to all kinds of uses.”

  “No, they couldn't,” Ogden muttered defiantly. “They won't be touching a single coin of it. Not a single coin. None of you will ever even see it. I can promise you that.”

  Morrow's expression hardened and he shook his head, leaning in close with his teeth bared. “If you do not cooperate, Walton, we'll have no choice but to have you hanged.”

  Ogden spat on Morrow's cheek. “I'm one of the most notorious pirates in the world. They are going to hang me either way, whether I cooperate and tell you, or I don't. We both know that, don't we? So there's no point in doing this your way, is there?”

  Morrow didn't deny it, and his face was growing red with anger as he wiped the saliva off of his cheek.

  “But know this, old friend,” Ogden continued venomously. “They can hang me if they like, but when I'm swaying in the air, dangling up there with a broken neck ... when my body is twitching and my face is blue, and breath no longer leaves my body, you will still be no closer to finding what's mine. You never will. Because it's mine. Not yours. It never will be.”

  Morrow looked like he was holding back an urge to kill Ogden then and there. He even looked like he was contemplating the admiral's words of caution. Even in defeat, Ogden still outmaneuvered him. Morrow was still under his thumb, no matter how much he wanted to increase his station in life. Morrow stepped back and stood over his captive. There was nothing more that could be said between them. They had made their conflicting intentions clear as day. Neither of them would budge or be convinced of anything more.

  “Get him out of my sight,” Morrow growled.

  As Ogden was dragged away, he glared at Morrow and behind that gaze, Morrow saw that Admiral Ogden had gained yet another victory; that even when
he lost, he still somehow found a way to win.

  8

  THE REAL PIRATES

  It had been quite a long boat ride and Purdue was just starting to find his sea legs. He was starting to adjust to the constant swaying of the boat, the smell of the engine on the stern, and even the sight of being in an endless void with no sign of land in any direction.

  According to the map, they were nearing the end of their journey. That little island marked by the outlying X was close. As the saying went, it had been clear sailing ever since they got away from Nassau, and would hopefully be just as smooth sailing for the remainder of the voyage.

  Unfortunately, as soon as Purdue had that thought, the universe had other plans for him.

  Someone was shouting on the boat. Purdue ran across the deck as the rest of the crew all responded and were gathering around as well.

  The crew mate hollering was a generally shy and quiet man named Tevin. In that moment, he was the loudest he had ever been. “The port side! The port side!”

  Purdue followed the directions and looked to his left. There were a number of speedboats fast approaching in the distance. Six, at least, cutting through the ocean in a furious dash toward their much slower boat. He pulled up binoculars and looked through them to get a better look at the new arrivals.

  Each speedboat had between five and eight men, and they all looked arm with machine guns. AK-47s by the look of it. Guns cheap enough to be easily purchase. They were the weapon of choice among any and all scavengers in the world. Anyone who wanted a taste of power, but couldn't afford anything but the cheapest drop of it.

  “Who the hell are they?” Purdue asked, lowering the binoculars and handing them to Aya.

  She looked through them and shook her head. “They work for Siad. He considers himself a rival to the Wharf Man, and in some ways, that is what he is. He and his men are pirates. They raid all along these waters.”