In Like Flynn, page 7
“Yield!” Waverly snarled.
“No,” Nicholas growled. Blood from his split lip filled his mouth with a salty taste. He spat on the ground. His back hurt like the devil had raked claws over his flesh, but he wouldn’t yield.
“Damn you, Flynn!” Waverly lunged at him, but a shout halted them both.
“What are you doing?” The admiral’s sharp voice cut across the narrow room.
“Admiral Harcourt, he—”
“My office, Captain. Now.” The admiral’s face was stony and somehow far more frightening than Waverly’s usually cruel expression.
“Sir, I—”
“Now.”
Waverly shot Flynn a venomous look as he left.
“And you, Mr. Flynn, will come with me as well. If you are able-bodied enough to fight, you can damned well answer some questions about your activities aboard the Emerald Dragon.”
Nicholas gave the Holland girl a reassuring glance before he followed the admiral into the corridor. She gave him a nod as if to reassure him that she was okay before the cell door shut behind them.
No one spoke until they were in the admiral’s office with the door firmly closed. The admiral glared at Waverly with all the power he could muster.
“Does the chain of command mean nothing to you, Captain? I told you that Holland was my responsibility.”
“And I told you that force is necessary with that boy,” Waverly shot back. “And he”—Waverly stabbed a finger in the air at Nicholas—“interfered.”
Nicholas ignored Waverly’s attempt to draw him into another fight, and spoke to the admiral as if Waverly wasn’t there.
“Sir, I’ve come up with a new plan, but it will require trust from you.”
“I’m listening,” Harcourt said.
“I believe your information is correct. Holland is connected in some way to Thomas Buck, perhaps some sort of family relation. I think if we let Holland escape, he will lead us back to Buck.”
“Just let him escape? How the devil would you know where he goes?” Waverly argued.
“I shall escape with him, try to join his crew, and send a report back of Buck’s location. We can set up a trap and nab the entire crew at once. Better still, we might learn what activities Buck has orchestrated and disrupt his entire fleet.”
The admiral tapped his fingers on his desk as he considered it. “High risk,” he said, half to himself.
“High reward,” Flynn countered.
Waverly scoffed. “Rubbish. If we break the boy, we’ll have all the information we need.”
But the admiral was ignoring him. “If you think this will work, Lieutenant, we can arrange to let one of the gates go unguarded at an opportune time. That fellow, Black Barney, is scheduled to be hanged tomorrow, and I am sure he will put up a fight. I will have only one guard there to walk him to the gallows. When he does resist, you and Holland can make your escape in the chaos that I am sure will follow.”
“Madness. This is a terrible idea,” Waverly said.
“Despite what you may believe, I still control this fort. Flynn, you’ll have your chance tomorrow. Waverly’s troops will be sent on patrol. That’s what you’ll tell Holland to reassure the boy escape is possible.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” Flynn turned to follow the soldier outside back to his cell. He hid his sense of relief as he passed by a scowling Waverly.
This wasn’t just the best way to track down Buck—it was the only way he could do so and still have young Holland escape the noose.
The only problem was, he would have to trick her into betraying Buck.
“Flynn!” Brianna nearly pounced on Flynn when he was put back in their cell, but she held herself back.
“I’m all right, lass.” His lips were quirked in a rakish smile. “I rather like that you were worried about me.”
Brianna scowled. “I wasn’t worried, you daft fool.” She wasn’t. Truly. It was just . . . well, damnation, she had been worried. What if he’d been whipped again, or worse?
He grimaced as he moved, and she wondered if he had reopened any of his wounds. Some small part of her wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and whisper soothing things into his ear as she checked his wounds. But that was ridiculous. She wasn’t some nurse.
“Are you . . . ? Did you . . . ?” She pointed at his back, and he shrugged.
“Nothing that won’t heal again,” he said with a wry chuckle that turned into a wince.
“Waverly?”
“Who else?” Flynn muttered, then sat down on his cot. “Have you heard the news?” He wiped his face of dried blood with one sleeve of his shirt and then drank a cup of water. Brianna watched him, a pit of dread forming in her stomach.
“What news?” She tried to sound as though she didn’t care. What if they’d found Joe? What if her father had somehow been captured?
“Black Barney is to be hanged tomorrow.”
“Oh?” Brianna felt the weight of guilt at being relieved. Barney was a bastard, but he was still one of the Brethren. Not a particularly good one, but a pirate nonetheless.
“I imagine they’ll force us to watch.” Flynn’s grim tone only made her stomach turn.
“They will,” she replied in a whisper. She had seen a hanging the day before Flynn had been put in her cell. All of the prisoners had been escorted into the yard to watch.
She’d seen men die before, bravely in the heat of battle or stupidly during a fight in a tavern, but a hanging was different. You were no longer the master of your fate, and everything about the ceremony was meant to reinforce that fact. It made you feel small. Powerless.
And this hanging hadn’t gone well. There hadn’t been enough slack on the rope for the drop to break his neck. There was something truly terrifying about watching a man dangle in the air, his face turning purple as he struggled for breath.
“They fixed the gallows, I heard. It will be over quickly,” Flynn said. But Brianna still couldn’t get the last man’s hanging out of her mind.
Flynn cleared his throat, drawing her attention away from thoughts of Barney swinging from the noose. “I was thinking, if you want to plan our escape, we might have a chance during the execution.”
At this, she tilted her head. “You think so? I thought they would have more guards present for the hanging.”
He shook his head, and his dark-blond hair fell into his eyes. “I heard they’ll be patrolling the south side of the island looking for Thomas Buck. Most of the men will be out during the execution. It might give us time to escape. We could overwhelm a guard or two if needed.”
“Sounds riskier than what I had in mind.” Truth was, she didn’t really have a plan, but she’d imagined sneaking out at night if she could only get out of their cell. “But my plan was really more of a one-person job. I suppose if you’re going to tag along, that would be as good a time as any. Still, why would you want to risk an escape with me?” It was in her nature both as a woman and a pirate not to trust anyone.
Flynn came over to her, and she almost stepped back when he invaded her space. Lord, not many men were taller than her, and fewer still were built like Flynn. Strength and raw masculine power radiated off him in a way that made parts of her shiver, though not from fear. She couldn’t help but wonder what it might feel like to give herself to this man, to let him sweep her away with passion, take control and let her feel safe beneath his hold. She shook herself free of the foolish daydream. She could never let a man have control—it was too dangerous to her freedom.
Flynn reached up to touch her and brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek.
“I like you, Holland, and I more than like kissing you. It seems I need a crew to sail with until I can find my way back to the Emerald Dragon. Besides, I don’t fancy either of us staying here until it’s our turn to hang, do you?”
His words made sense, but the part about him kissing her . . . that alone repeated over and over in her head. She more than liked kissing him too. And it had only been one bloody kiss. How would she like it if he did far more than kiss her?
“So what say you? I help you escape, and you convince your captain of whatever crew you sail with to let me join?”
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, too distracted by how his hand had moved from her cheek down to her neck, still stroking her skin in a way that clouded her thoughts. She pulled away, feeling manipulated. “So you’re just looking for someone to share lonely nights on the high seas?”
Flynn chuckled. “I admit I’ve thought of the advantages of such a partnership, but nothing will happen without your leave, I assure you.”
“Of course it wouldn’t. Because if you tried, you’d find yourself hanging from something other than your neck.” She countered his gentle caress with a quick grip and a squeeze that made her point all too clear. “Understood?”
Flynn winced, his voice higher pitched as he replied. “Perfectly.”
She relaxed her grip. “Well . . . I suppose you can come along. But don’t be getting any ideas about taking over the ship for yourself.”
“I swear to obey your captain, whoever he is. Besides, I’m hardly likely to take over a ship all by myself, am I?”
She almost chuckled. He was in for a surprise when he found out she was the captain.
She pulled away and returned to sit on her cot. “I’ll hold you to that. Now, why don’t you tell me a story?” They had a long night to wait before the hanging at dawn.
“Me tell a story?” He laughed softly, the sound deep and decadent. Sinful, even. And she knew a thing or two about sin.
“Yes, tell me something amusing. It’s your turn.”
“I regrettably do not know tales of wild pirate queens as you do.”
She smiled and bit her lip. “That’s all right. I know every story of every pirate queen already.”
“How about stories of Cornwall treasure smugglers descended from the Vikings themselves?”
She lay on her side and propped her chin in her hand as she watched Flynn. “Now that sounds like it might amuse me.”
“They say there is a family living off the coast of Cornwall who have pure Viking blood in their veins. Tall, fierce, and cunning, they wait like wraiths in the dark for ships to crash upon the rocks during storms. And then they begin their hunt . . .”
Before dawn the following morning, the prisoners in Port Royal’s garrison were escorted from their cells. Each man was shackled together with his cell mate. Brianna’s left hand and Flynn’s right hand were chained together, only a foot separating the two manacles. That was not what they had done to the prisoners at the last hanging.
“Must be to make up for the lack of guards,” Flynn mused.
But by the look on Captain Waverly’s face, Brianna guessed this was his idea. His men were patrolling the island, but he’d stayed behind to watch a man hang.
“Still with me, Holland?” Flynn leaned in to whisper as they joined the ranks of their fellow prisoners.
“The question is, are you with me?” The manacles would make it more difficult to escape, but if Flynn knew what he was doing, they could manage it.
A naval officer in his dark-blue uniform and powdered wig stood beside the gallows and unrolled a bit of parchment.
“You are gathered here to witness the execution of Barnabas Black. He has been convicted of two counts of piracy and one count of theft. He has been sentenced to hang by the neck until dead.”
Four soldiers in red uniforms stepped forward, snare drums hanging around their waists. They began to tap out a steady, ominous rhythm, heralding the doomed man.
Black Barney was the final prisoner to be escorted from the cellblock. He marched past Brianna, Flynn, and the others on his way to the gallows.
The pirate’s eyes were red and wild as he threw his head back and forth like a mad dog looking for his next victim. Brianna tensed.
“Steady,” Flynn murmured. Any moment now, Barney would put up a fight. They just had to wait for the right moment.
Brianna glanced at each of the garrison’s entry and exit points. She counted only seven guards. There were two talking at the gate behind them, which was closest. Neither man looked interested in the hanging of the prisoner in the yard. The south gate was the only one that led toward the dense cover of the island’s vegetation. That was the garrison’s weakest spot.
“The south gate,” Brianna whispered to Flynn.
“I see it.” His eyes darted to the gate and back to Black Barney, who had reached the base of the gallows.
Without warning, the man whirled on the soldier escorting him, hitting him with such force that he barreled into the nearby wall. In that moment, peace and order turned to bloody chaos.
“Fight for Barney!” a cry sounded, and the prisoners around Brianna and Flynn launched themselves at the guards closest to them. Brianna couldn’t believe their luck.
She pulled hard on her wrist and bolted for the south gate. “Come on!”
Flynn rushed along with her, having little choice but to keep pace. The two soldiers were raising their rifles, but they had been focused on Barney instead of her and turned too late to face her. She knocked the first man flat on his back and punched him hard with her free hand. His eyes rolled back as the second guard landed in a heap beside the first, knocked out by Flynn.
Flynn crouched beside her as she searched the guards for the gate key. When she found it, she tossed it to Flynn. He unlocked the gate, and they rushed through it toward freedom as they dove into the dense vegetation that would shield part of their escape.
“So what’s the next part of the plan?” Flynn asked as he followed her. The blend of palm and mahogany trees provided decent cover as they fled from the naval garrison.
“Oi, Holland?” Flynn demanded as they slowed in their running. The fort wasn’t visible any longer, except as a distant stony peak over the tops of the trees.
“I should have a jolly boat waiting for me up ahead. I hope . . .” She added the last bit in a whisper to herself. If Joe had done the smart thing, he would have left her. But Joe often didn’t do the smart thing when it came to her. Now she found herself damn well hoping he had waited for her rather than sailing back to their ship.
They ran down an animal trail until she found the familiar path that would take them to the secret boat landing. It was a path her father had taken for many years, and she had learned it well as a child. It was well worn, but narrow, used only by Buck’s men and now her.
“Tell me you’re joking. We can’t outrun the navy in a jolly boat.”
Please be there, please, she silently prayed.
“I thought you trusted me,” she said aloud.
“Not if you sail on a damned jolly boat.”
“Of course not,” she scoffed. She didn’t have time to explain. She needed to focus. Joe, if he was still here, would be hiding well covered.
The trail thinned as the little cove came into view. It wasn’t visited often, as there was no place to bring in larger ships. Jolly boats and lifeboats were the only vessels able to glide over the reefs in the shallow water, but it was too far a hike to be convenient as a landing point for anyone but pirates.
Brianna halted at the edge of the vegetation and studied the empty beach. There was no sign of the boat or Joe. Fresh panic set in. She’d been desperately hoping he’d waited.
“Damn. I thought he might have waited for me.”
“Who would wait for you?” Flynn asked in frustration.
“Me,” a deep voice rumbled behind them.
Flynn whirled around, fists raised in defense. Brianna, jerked along by the chains, shouted for him to stop, but it was too late.
CHAPTER 6
“Who would wait for you?” Nicholas asked as he scanned the empty beach.
He saw Holland’s face turn pale as she searched for whoever she had hoped to meet. It seemed this little escape was going to end far too soon. Right now, they were exposed on the beach, with the dense foliage of the island behind them, where Waverly’s men could easily hide. He didn’t like this one bit.
“Me,” a voice rumbled.
Every instinct and reflex sent Flynn flying at the man who’d snuck up behind them, jerking Holland along with him. The man attacked at the same time, but Flynn was a split second faster. He hit the man square in the jaw, while the other man’s blow glanced off Flynn’s cheek.
“Stop, you fools! Stop this!”
Flynn found himself being shoved away before he could get his hands properly on the other man.
“Joe, stop!” Holland bellowed in a commanding tone.
The man called Joe stepped back.
“Who is he?” Nicholas growled at the same time Joe said, “Who’s this, eh?”
“Joseph McBride, this is Nicholas Flynn. Shake hands. We are all friends here, aren’t we?” Holland’s tone brooked no argument from either of them.
Joe grunted and with great reluctance held out a hand to Nicholas. Nicholas had a moment to take the measure of the man as he accepted it. Joe was built like a frigate, armed with thick muscle and a steely demeanor to match. He appeared to be in his late forties, and his skin had been bronzed by years in the sun. No doubt another pirate.
“Flynn,” Joe said.
“McBride,” Nicholas replied. They let go of each other’s hands, still staring at one another.
“Wonderful. Now that we’re all friends, let’s get the bloody hell out of here before the redcoats find us.”
“Redcoats? How far are they behind ye?”
“I’m not sure—we don’t have time.”
“We’re taking him with us?” Joe jerked his thumb at Nicholas.
She gave Joe a look that Nicholas didn’t miss. “Yes.” She waved their manacled hands in the air. “I’ll explain later.” She was censoring her information in front of him.
“Right. This way, then.” Joe started down the beach and paused at a spot on the ground where dozens of palm fronds had fallen to cover the sand.
