"Sir?" a voice called through the hole in the ceiling.
Stephen jerked awake. Mowett already was, seeing as he had been silently scraping away at the lock with the stone Stephen had found on the Galapagos Islands since midnight with little luck. Hastily, Mowett pocketed the stone and rose stiffly, grunting as his long-inactive legs straightened out.
Stephen stood as well, peering through the gloom of the brig to see who was speaking. The lantern was barely burning anymore, and it was still very early, judging by the light coming through the hole. When his eyes adjusted to the light, Stephen could make out the face of Warley, thrown into sharp relief from the shadowy light cast by the flicking lantern flame.
"Yes?" he answered crossly, wishing whatever Warley had to say could have waited until he had a good night's sleep.
Warley's voice was high and trembling with excitement. "Sir, we're pulling up alongside a ship!"
"Is it the Surprise?" Stephen demanded at once.
"Can't tell sir, there's too much bloody fog to see," admitted Warley. "But they haven't noticed us yet because of the fog, and if it is the Surprise, she'll be blown right out of the water, sir!"
"Are those rockets ready yet?" Mowett wanted to know.
"Yes, sir."
"Fire them out a porthole, but point them up into the air so they don't hit the ship. Then start yelling as loud as you can, understand?" he said.
Warley frowned. "But sir, if they don't intend to engage in combat, and they're Frenchies too, we'll get punished an' all for nothing!"
Mowett shrugged. "That's a risk we'll have to take, I'm afraid. But if they were French, the Caniche would have hailed them by now, surely?"
"Aye sir," Warley said automatically. He relayed the orders to his shipmates, and Mr. Lamb prepared a rocket. Stephen and Mowett waited below, listening breathlessly.
Then-POW! WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The flare whistled as it fired into the air, spraying multi-colored sparks and lighting up the foggy ships. Warley heard shouts of panic and confusion from the opposite ship and took the chance.
"Ahoy the ship! Below! Help!" he yelled, and the rest of the men took up his cry. No one came to quiet them, meaning that the French definitely planned on fighting and were too busy to deal with the prisoners. It was a stroke of luck that would count to their advantage if it worked.
Jack's head jerked around at the sound of the yells that were coming from the other ship. He was heading towards a pile of guns that had been gathered the day before, but quickly changed his direction when he heard yelling that seemed to come from the French ship.
A faint, "Help! Below!" caught Jack's ears, and he instantly sprang into action. "Mr. Pullings, take your division and follow me!" he bellowed, not noticing that Tom was right next to him. The lieutenant staggered back, deafened, but waved a hand at his group of men and followed Jack onto the deck of the other ship.
The Frenchmen were not ready for such a bold attack; they were sure the British would defend themselves before thinking about boarding. However, they weren't counting on Jack being the captain of their target. Michelle pounded up the steps wielding a sword that he could barely lift, gave it up, and ran back down towards the armory to try again.
Without him, the French were a snake without a head. They milled about uncertainly on the deck, weapons dangling from loose hands. Then, an officer of Michelle's appeared and led a ragged charge towards Jack, Tom, and the other men.
Jack met them head-on, throwing himself into the fray. "Get down below, to where they have the prisoners!" he shouted to his First Officer.
Poor Tom was still deafened from when Jack had unknowingly shouted right down his ear. He frowned and shouted back, "What?" but Jack was already down the hatchway. Since Tom couldn't hear the captured Surprises either, he took a guess and plowed his way through the Frenchman, his division fighting their way after him.
Jack met Michelle and half of his crew coming up from the armory. Michelle had picked a decent sword this time and was waving it tauntingly at Jack, who narrowed his eyes at the challenger and leapt despite the fact that he was severely outnumbered with Tom and the rest of his crew still fighting towards the hatch. Jack locked hilts with Michelle and wrenched the sword out of his hand with a single savage thrust, then pushed him down the narrow stairs into the arms of his bumbling crew. There was an instant pile-up below, which gave Tom the time he needed to get through the hatch. The Surprises followed him and ran ahead of the two officers to clear the way of the French, who were packed in a confused tangle in the small hallway.
They all quickly shoved their enemies out of the way and continued downwards. Tom answered the calls from somewhere inside the ship; "Surprises, where are you? It's the captain and Mr. Pullings!"
Instant silence fell. It was eerie-the ship that had just been the center of commotion was echoing with silence. Jack heard a ringing in his ears and shook his head to clear it, but Tom was so glad that he could hear anything at all now that he let his ears ring with the deathly quiet inside the Caniche. Then-
"This way! In the brig!" came Mowett's voice. The men in the hallway took off in that direction, turned a corner, and found themselves in the brig. Mowett was grinning from ear to ear, and even Stephen was looking a bit happier than usual. "Glad you found us!" he muttered.
His expression suddenly turned ashen. "Watch out!" he yelled. They all spun around-to face Michelle and his men, all aiming guns and grinning nastily.
