"Look out, Captain!"

The Pirate Captain ducked as a huge hole was blown in a tree near his head. He ran a little faster as bullets showered around him. Perhaps Number two had been right. Perhaps it had been a bad idea.

But he didn't see what the fuss was all about. It was a harmless prank. The paint would wash right off those British Navy boats. The Pirate Captain simply hadn't been able to resist doing something mischievous when he and his first mate had happened upon two Navy dingy's on the island shore. They had come upon them purely by chance while searching for water. The Pirate with the Scarf had been wary.

"Where are the sailors? Where's the ship? I don't like this Captain. We should go back to the boat."

"Nonsense, Number Two!" The Pirate Captain had scoffed. "We can't turn down an opportunity to thumb our nose at Queen Vicky, now can we?"

Number Two raised a curious eyebrow. "What do you intend to do?"

The Pirate Captain had given his first mate a sly grin and pulled a paintbrush and a small can of red paint from his luxuriantly full beard.

The Pirate with the Scarf had insisted on being the lookout as the Captain busied himself with defacing the small boats and humming 'God Save the Queen'."

"What do you think, Number Two?" The Captain had gestured proudly to his rather less than artistic work. On the side of the boat there was now a rather messy painting of Queen Victoria (only identify able as such because he had written 'Vicky' next to the drawing) with sharp teeth and claws. He had signed it 'the Pirate Captain'.

The Pirate with the Scarf couldn't help but chuckle. "That's a pretty good likeness."

The Captain stood and admired his handiwork. "I thought so."

The moment was broken by angry shouting. The two pirates turned to see a mob of very large and intimidating British tars pounding up the beach toward them. A gunshot rang across the beach. That was all the incentive the pirates needed. With a speed usually reserved for the marlin the artist and his reluctant accomplice hightailed it into the jungle with a mob of irate and armed sailors at their heels.

Yes, the Pirate Captain thought, as he and his first mate ran through the thick foliage dodging bullets with every step, perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea. Although, he thought with a grin, their pursuers probably would have given up already if he weren't the most wanted pirate ever to sail the seas. "Those blokes really want that reward, eh Number Two?" He shouted over his shoulder to be heard over the resounding weapons fire.

" Just keep running!" The first mate shouted from right behind him.

The truth was the Captain was rather enjoying himself. He'd have something interesting to tell the lads when they got back to the ship. He'd amp up the danger and make a stirring adventure out of it, maybe throw in a couple mermaids and a sea monster for good measure.

He pushed through a stand of thick foliage and made a sharp right doubling back a bit. He dropped to his stomach behind a large bush with leaves almost as big as he was. Chuckling quietly to himself at how clever he was, he watched as the sailors thundered by his hiding place, still shouting and shooting, certain he was still somewhere ahead of them.

He waited until the voices and gunshots faded a bit and he was sure they had gone before rising to his feet and casually dusting off his coat. "That was a little close for comfort, eh Number Two?" The Pirate Captain frowned a bit when there was no reply. He turned around to find himself completely alone. His first mate was nowhere in sight. With an annoyed huff he shoved his fists onto his hips. "Now where could he have gotten off to?" His young comrade must have hidden as he had only further back. So he started back in the direction he came calling loud enough that anyone in the immediate area might hear but not so loud as to draw the attention of the sailors he could still hear in the distance. "Number Two? Where are you lad?"

After a short time of searching he was beginning to grow impatient. "Blast it all! Where have you run off to? I thought you were right behind..." His voice trailed off as he parted a stand of brush and saw what lay in the middle of the small clearing on the other side. He had found his first mate.

The Pirate with the Scarf was lying on his side, his hat on the ground a short distance away. The Captain felt his breath catching his throat as he approached uncertainly. "Nuh...Number Two? Get up lad..." His first mate did not in any way respond to the command. His face was slack and turning a deathly pale. His hazel eyes were cracked open but they were glazed and unfocused. He's alright, the Captain tried to assure himself. But as hard as he tried he could not ignore the quickly growing crimson stain in the young man's side. He dropped to his knees beside his fallen comrade feeling his insides twist into knots as he saw the tiny hole in the right side of his friend's jacket. "Just…just a flesh wound." The Captain swallowed the sob that kept rising up in the back of his throat. "Y-you're alright."

As much as he tried to talk himself into believing that...he knew better.