Cutlass Anne

Cutlass Anne - Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-one

"We cannot just pull into port." I stared at Flynn as though he had gone insane.

"Sure we can. Pull in and start fighting."

"Really, Flynn. This is not just some pirate port. There are civilians about. Do you want to be responsible for their deaths?"

"I can take a few men and the dinghy into the bay. We can scout the area before we attack."

"No, that will not work." He shook his head.

"Why not?"

"My father will recognize you. I'll go."

"Oh, so your father will not recognize you?" I asked incredulously.

"Do not argue with me, Anne."

"Stop being so impossible."

"You are being stubborn." Flynn looked to the beautiful coast.

"I will go. We will not instigate anything with him; just find out if he is actually here."

"It is the best option." Andrew joined us, adding his opinion even though nobody asked for it.

"Fine." Flynn turned and stormed off below deck.

"He will be fine, ma'am," Scully said. "He just worries about you."

My heart pounded as I descended the ladder to the dinghy. If he were not here, well he could be anywhere in the world.

The rower pulled furiously at the oars, trying to make the small boat move a little faster.

"Stop rowing!" I said as we rounded into the bay.

"What's wrong cap'n?" one of the men asked.

"He's here."

"How do you know?"

"That is The Cutlass sitting in port."

"A pirate ship making port?" the man asked.

"It is odd for such an infamous pirate ship to make port in such a bustling town. Let's head back toward The Gilded Lady."

I climbed the Jacob's ladder as quickly as possible. Flynn peered over the side at me in confusion.

"You have come back awful fast."

"He is here."

"Are you sure?"

"The Cutlass is docked."

"It is docked? A pirate ship is openly docked in Norfolk?" He pursed his lips and ran his hands through his hair.

"Yes. It is not flying the Jolly Roger, but it is most definitely The Cutlass."

"What shall we do?" Christopher asked.

"We may have the upper hand." Flynn stood near the railing biting at his lip.

"How would we?" I asked.

"John Jacks has no idea we are here."

"So we think."

"What do you mean?" Flynn asked.

"This is all too simple. Life is not simple. It is a complicated matter that does not hand things over easily."

"You presume this is a setup?"

"Most definitely," I replied, joining him.

"I would not put it past my father to do such a devious thing."