A hint of moment among the tropical trees on the island. “Show yourself you coward.” James muttered under his breath. There was no more movement.
“Captain, the scouts are back. Also, the um... the crew is complaining again.” Said a voice from the stairs. James collapsed his spyglass and turned to glare at the man who had spoken. He was a short, potbellied man with thin wire-framed glasses, a red hat over his white hair, and a blue and white striped shirt.
James glared at his quartermaster. “Did they find his hideout?” James questioned. He would ask later about the complainers. He had priorities. “N-no... He and his band led them in circles around the island. James sneered, his hook digging into the wood of the rail.
And who exactly is complaining?” James asked, glaring down at the waters. The quartermaster listed off three names. “Have them come to my cabin.” James commanded. He turned and walked down the stairs, not waiting for A response. He turned and opened the single door below the quarterdeck. He slammed it behind him just to startle whatever sailor was currently cleaning the main deck.
James opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out a box of matches. He struck one and used it to light the lamp hanging in the middle of the cabin. He pulled his flintlock out of it’s holster and set it on the desk. He pulled out all the bullets and began cleaning it, a hard thing to do with only one hand.
Several minutes later, there was a nock on the door. “Enter.” James said, pulling the rag off his hook with some difficulty. He hid his frustration with the blasted thing and reloading his pistol as three men entered.
“So, why exactly were the three of you complaining?” James asked, not one for dancing around the problem in matters with his crew. He would not let them see his as weak, even with a single hand. They spent several minutes quietly arguing over who would have to speak.
“Enough!” James roared, half turning to glare at them. “W-we’re just tired of chasing t-that boy and his band around, s-sir.” One said. “W-we want to g-get back to slitting throats and s-stealing treasure.” Another added. “Do you?” James asked, his voice ominous. The three nodded hesitantly. “And whose idea was this?“ James questioned, his tone unchanging. After several moments of silence, two of them glanced at the first who had spoken.
In a flash, James stood, pivoted, and fired. His deadly aim struck the man right in the head. He fell dead without a sound. The other stared at him in fear. “We will not leave this blasted island till I have my revenge!” James roared. “Throw his body overboard.” He commanded after a moment of silence.
Not a minute later, a sailor rushed into the cabin. He spoke before James could demand the meaning of the interruption. “Captain! They’ve sighted him flying in from the south! He’s heading for the island in open sky with three mire!” The sailor exclaimed.
James quickly got to his feet. He ran out if his cabin, out the stairs, and took the wheel. He opened his spyglass just to confirm it. That stupid boy was back with three more for his band. James could have sworn one was a girl.
He collapsed his spyglass, and looked to his crew. All hands were already on deck. Smee stood on the stairs, ready to relay his orders. “Load the cannons and fire at will!” James shouted. “Yes Captain Hook!” The crew exclaimed at they scrambled to follow orders. “I’ve got you this time Peter Pan.” James growled under his breath.
He would get his vengeance, no matter the cost.
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