Rogers' men search the island for Rackham and Bonny. Eleanor confronts Mrs. Hudson. Rogers wants to set boundaries between them, but makes a mish mash of it. Then they learn that Rackham walked into town for a pardon. Rogers hopes to use reason to compell Rackham into giving up the cache. Max is not happy when she learns of Rackham's arrest, but is scolded by Eleanor, and Rogers is forced to be the intermediate between both women.

Chapter 14 - The Inappropriate

The tunnel search was time consuming. Nor was Eleanor entirely sure she had located each and every tunnel correctly. Landmarks might have altered. She possibly might even have forgotten one tunnel or another herself. The next day Rogers set out with her and Major Andrews in a carriage to the interior and all the various locations. One after the other turned out to have not been used for many years, and with each added negative result, Eleanor doubted her hunch more and more. By evenfall, Eleanor and Rogers arrived back in Nassau very much discouraged, until shortly after dawn, regulars rode hard onto the market square and roused Rogers and Eleanor from their sleep.

"You were right," said Rogers as soon as she entered his office. "They found evidence of very recent use of this tunnel." Rogers planted his index finger on one of the remotest tunnel exits into a cave. "Ashes of a fire that were still warm, leftover food remains, empty jugs of water."

"Did they find them?"

Rogers shook his head and grimaced. "They were too late, possibly but a few hours. The birds have flown."

"But they are still on the island," said Eleanor.

"For now." Rogers slammed his palm on the desk in frustration. "The damnest luck!"

"Did they leave in fear of being found, or did the abandonment look planned?" Eleanor wanted to know.

"The latter I suppose. Why?"

Eleanor took a step closer to him. "That means they feel safe. They believe that we stopped looking for them. They will take their time and make a mistake."

Rogers smiled, but bitterly. "It buys us only hours, at the most a day." He heaved a deep breath. "Any news what the Spanish have to say yet?" Eleanor shook her head and Rogers rolled his eyes. "Well, I will go down to the beach to see the gold that we salvaged from the fort off."

In all that time, she had not seen Mrs. Hudson. Eleanor had not wanted her service, and the woman had either gone into town or remained at her room. Initially, Eleanor had been shocked over Mrs. Hudson being a spy for the Spanish. Then she had been angry with Mrs. Hudson for being such a hypocrite. But as she walked to the woman's room, she recognized that Mrs. Hudson had acted to protect Nassau and the governor by revealing the danger. Still, something about Mrs. Hudson's spying did not add up. Mrs. Hudson was too righteous.

When Eleanor stood face to face with her false chambermaid, Mrs. Hudson pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes. For a traitor, Mrs. Hudson certainly appeared contrite. "Did you talk with your contact?"

"I did as you asked of me." Mrs. Hudson lifted her chin. "They are very angry over the exchanged gold by men of the English colonies. It as an insult in their eyes." Her voice trembled, "They said the governor must return all of it or they will hold him accountable if he cannot recover the other half of the exchanged cash."

Eleanor closed her eyes and shook her head. "He did not steal it, nor exchange it." Angrily and frustrated, she said, "They should be glad they are getting this much back already. It's not as if they bothered to send their dread fleet to Nassau when Flint, Rackham and Vane were in control of the island."

Mrs. Hudson's expression became saddened and regretful. "I wish it were otherwise, miss."

Standing before the door, Eleanor appraised the woman. "You worked in his household for years. He's not an unfair employer. You said so yourself. How much did they offer you then?"

"At first I was tempted," whispered Mrs. Hudson. Then she straightened her back. "But in the end it felt wrong to betray the governor that way. And it felt dangerous so I declined."

"Then how did this happen? How does an honest chambermaid end up in the employ of the Spanish empire?"

Mrs. Hudson looked away from Eleanor and sat down on her bed. "A few days after I declined their offer, I came home late from the governor's service." Mrs. Hudson's eyes glistened wet with tears. "It wasn't unusual for me to return home to find my children long since fast asleep." She shook her head stiffly. "But that night, my children were not alone." Mrs. Hudson heaved her breath and whispered, "The man who had approached me, Grandal, was there waiting. In his left hand, a knife. In his right, a purse. He said my children would receive something from him that night. He asked me to choose which." She sniffed and tapped her frock with her hand in emphasis. "These are the people whom I am beholden to. This is what they are capable of doing." Finally, the woman broke and sobbed, "I cannot imagine what they will do if the cache is not returned whole."

Eleanor sighed. She could not remain angry with the woman. Mrs. Hudson was spying half a world away for her children's lives. She might never see her children again. And if this story was true, then in fact it was a relief that it had been Mrs. Hudson who was the spy. At least she had a conscious, alerted the governor in time. Another spy might never have revealed what he or she knew at all. "Thank you for telling me," Eleanor whispered.

Downstairs, Dyson informed Eleanor that the lord governor had left for the bay and expected her to join him there. So, as soon as she had finished her tea and bread, Eleanor left for the pier with two regulars for her escort. She passed men loading building material into a cart for the fort's repairs. The street and front of houses and shops looked cleaner. There were small stalls of farm produce of the interior. Puritan women strolled through town, shopping and gazing at the mix of people, while their husbands inquired with skilled men offering their talent for prices. Captain Trockmorton and his crew, some of the first pirates who had laid down their arms, had started a personal transportation service with skiffs from the beaches nearer to the farmers to Nassau the day before.

Rogers stood on the small wooden pier, hands behind his back, overlooking the bay where one of the fleet's ships was readied for departure. She lifted her red petticoat to climb the few steps onto the pier. As she joined Rogers' side, Lieutenant Perkins arrived in a launch and walked towards the governor, holding a book under his arm. "Ship's manifest, sir. The entirety of the gold from the fort is now stowed and ready for transport to Havana." Perkins opened the manifest and leafed through the pages to show it to Rogers. "We should be under way within the hour."

"Put it in my office, please." He furrowed his brow and took a deep breath of sea air.

Eleanor glanced at Rogers. "I just left Miss Hudson."

He shook his head slightly as he looked out onto the bay. "I had the instinct once or twice, the way she'd been watching me of late. I dismissed it, just assumed it related to some concern over my relationship with you and its becoming inappropriate -" Rogers shook his head with a regretful grin, as if he had said too much.

Shocked, Eleanor stared at him. Rogers had never made any allusion to it, nor reproached her for it. Until now, they had both acted as if the kiss had never happened. The search for Rackham had pushed it all to the background, and no harm had come to their working relationship. He had been somewhat more distant than before, less talkative too. It was as if they had reversed back to the professional half familiarity between them as when she had helped him with the address, except that he relied on her to be there on his beck and call at any given time of the day and night. It's just as it ought to be; what he hired me for. Her angst over, she had picked the red dress with embroidered roses without giving it much thought that morning. But now, he decides to refer to it. Did I not behave appropriately since then?

Rogers turned his head and looked at her. "What did she say?" he asked her in a much softer voice. "Did she report that we're earnestly attempting to find and return the missing money?"

"It's not about the money for them, not anymore. When the gold from the Urca was stolen, it was bad enough," she said and Rogers rolled his eyes. "Now they hear the gold is being converted into something more easily hidden from them, more easily smuggled away. That isn't theft. It's an insult. And insults to empires require answers."

Rogers lifted his eyebrows and grinned sarcastically. "So, it's personal, then?" He stepped toward a post of the pier and leaned on it with one hand. "A binary question of my trustworthiness. Either I return the full cache and prove it or I fail, and in trying to excuse the shortfall, only aggravate their existing suspicion that I am part of the pirate problem, not its solution. And the dread fleet in Havana sets sail the very next day to raze all of Nassau to the ground."

"Then we'll fight them, defend the island!" Eleanor urged him, anxious about his cynical tone, wanting to give him hope. He turned his head and looked at her. "The odds would be dire, but we are not without resources."

"No, not we," he interrupted her to her confusion. "Someone might fight them, but it won't be you and I. If the result of my endeavor here is a Spanish attack against British forces, an act that threatens to drag the empire into a war, I would be recalled to London and likely debtors' prison and your capital sentence would be reinstated.

"Now, I believe Nassau's best chance at survival is with me guiding it. But if we cannot find Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny, if we can't find the cache in their possession, whatever happens to Nassau, you and I are likely finished." Rogers gazed at her intensely out of the corner of his eyes. Eleanor lowered her eyes.

As both of them waited for the Captain to take his leave from Rogers and see the gold sail off for Havana, each of them pondered the conversation differently. Eleanor realized that there would be no rewards given for simply trying to find the cash, or trying to move on from Nassau's past. They had to succeed. There simply was no alternative.

Meanwhile, Rogers wondered what the hell he had meant to say to her. For it was not Eleanor's words about defending the island that had provoked him, nor her failure to understand the full gravity of their situation, but her reference to we. Neither him, nor her could be allowed to see themselves as such. He was the governor, her employer, English, and a married man. She was a convict, his employee, a Nassau and a single woman without family that would lift a finger to protect her. They had both forgotten it, when they had kissed. Rogers had pretended it had not happened, behaved properly, hoping to master his conflicted feelings. He had thrown himself at the work – and work certainly threw itself at him. But Eleanor was an almost constant companion at some of the oddest hours and often without anyone around, not even the spying Mrs. Hudson. Eleanor was most certainly indispensible, enthusiastic and committed to seeing him succeed. So, he could not fault her behavior over the past two days, nor could he send her off for practical reasons either anymore as he had tried to do the day after the kiss. And yet, it made it all the more difficult for him.

When she had retreated to her room during the dinner with Chamberlain, he barely managed to listen to the commodore anymore. He disliked the situation of his own creation and his mind wandered to her in her room. He had actually considered to knock on her door and ask after her health that night, but then decided not to at the last minute. Instead, he had gone to his office to study plans. When Eleanor then burst into his office, while he was only half dressed, for one short moment he even hoped she would threw herself at him, and he had felt a pang of disappointment too when she did not. As she then sat down for hours figuring out where each tunnel exit could be, and he had all the time in the world to admire her figure, her stamina and intelligence and be warmed by her commitment to his cause. Yesterday, she never uttered a complaint over riding criss cross through the interior in the carriage, even though she had been so exhausted by the end of the day that she fell asleep on the drive back. As her head had involuntarily came to rest on his shoulder, he had been infused with a tenderness he had not felt for anyone for a long time. When Rogers had learned that very morning that evidence of Rackham's whereabouts in the tunnels had been found and Eleanor showed up in the passionate red dress, Rogers realized that Eleanor would have made a far better wife that would suit his needs, tastes, nature and ambitions in ways that Sarah never could. Well, apart from the fact that she was a convict.

So, despite both of them behaving properly since the kiss, Rogers was very much aware that his feelings were inappropriate – feelings he could not escape when the situation demanded them to continue to work together so intimately. And yet, it was preferable than not having her near him. Admiring her proved less distraction than missing her. He was convinced though that Eleanor was aware of his admiration, how he watched her when she studied the map, or walked this and that way in search for a landmark. He feared it might give her hope. So, he had finally decided to at least address their situation. I must set the boundaries, he thought over and over, as he waited for her to join him on the pier. And he had rehearsed to himself how to say it. But as soon as the words were spoken, he felt like he was inappropriately scolding her for his feelings. She could hardly be blamed for that. While Rogers wanted to remind her that there could not be a we - him the governor and she the convict - he somehow ended up telling her there could only be hope for them to be together if they found Rackham and recovered the cache.

Lieutenant Perkins returned to the pier and hesitated. Rogers looked the young man up and down. "Something wrong, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir!" Perkins raised himself high. "Quite the opposite. The regulars arrested a man in the tavern who filed in line for a pardon, claiming to be John Rackham ."

"We have Rackham?" Rogers glanced at Eleanor, hardly believing the issue with Spain might actually be over and done with soon.

"Yes, sir. They have him in your office."

Rogers sighed in relief. "Tell the captain to hold off the departure for Havana. We may have an extra load for him within the day."

"Was there a woman with him as well?" Eleanor asked.

Perkins shook his head. "Major Rollins made no mention of a woman."

"So, no Bonny," mumbled Eleanor.

As they walked back to Nassau's market, Rogers repeated, "A pardon?" in amazement. He chuckled. Rackham is either stupid or very brave. Maybe both.

"If Anne is not in Nassau, then she has the cache," said Eleanor.

"Beg pardon?"

"There is no separating those two. I know some have tried, but ultimately they always stick together. Jack had a plan when he returned to Nassau for the pardon."

Rogers stopped and studied Eleanor's furrowed brow as they walked up the steps of the mansion and into the hallway. Major Rollins rushed forward to give Rogers the good news, but he held his hand up, signaling to wait for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"That Jack wanted that pardon, but not to stay in Nassau. Otherwise Anne would have been there. Jack always wanted to make a name for himself. If say Rackham took a skiff to Port Royal and got on a ship to the Continent, with Anne Bonny and the chest, what would he be required to do?"

At first, Rogers was not sure what Eleanor was getting at, but then he said, "He would have to travel under a false name."

"Exactly!" Eleanor said. "Anne would not care about a false name, but Rackham, former quartermaster of Charles Vane, Captain of the Colonial Dawn who stole the treasury from Spain, pirate king of Nassau and partner of Vane and Flint? He would detest it. He wanted a pardon so that he could travel and live wherever he wants, while keeping his name, with the cash and Anne by his side and without fear of being hunted."

Rogers chuckled. "Well, he can keep his name, be pardoned and live wherever he wishes with Bonny, in exchange for the cache."

Major Rollins finally moved forward, and Rogers said, "Congratulations, Major. Lieutenant Perkins already informed me that your men have him."

"Yes, sir. Upstairs."

"Splendid work," smiled Rogers. He started on the stairs, while Eleanor followed. "Tell me more about Rackham. What kind of man is he?"

"Proud, cares tremendously about what people in general think of him. He dresses well, reads, and he is smart. He is not the greatest fighter there is, but he has Anne for that."

They had arrived at the landing, near his apartment. "You say that you think the two of them are still working together. And yet, you also told me once that Rackham chose Max over Anne when his crew made him choose which of the two could have a share."

"Yes." Eleanor frowned. "The situation was complicated. Without Max for the leads, he would have been unable to hunt anything. Anne was distraught over it. But they can't do without each other, not for long." Eleanor looked into his eyes and they hazed over for a moment. She blushed and lowered her head. "He saved her from abuse when she was thirteen, and they have been together ever since."

"He cares for her," Rogers said softly, looking into her face.

"Y-yes. And she is not whole without him."

Eleanor had no idea why she said that. Eleanor and Anne never got along much. There had been that one time where Anne had sought her help to liberate Max from her rapists. Eleanor had John Silver plant black pearls in Jack's tent to make the men suspect Jack of double crossing them. Anne and Eleanor's plan could have cost Jack's life. Instead, with the help of Eleanor's fighters all eight were slain. Anne seemed to have never revealed Eleanor's role in it, at least not to Max. All of this had been the reason why Eleanor had not put Anne on the list of targets to be assassinated – that and the fact that Anne was actually in Port Royal at the time, working for Max. That had been the last Eleanor had known of Anne's whereabouts when she herself was taken by Hornigold. And yet, for some reason, Eleanor had always continued to think of Jack and Anne as inseparable, even idealized them in a way. Then, Eleanor realized she had not been talking about Anne at all.

For a short moment they stood staring at one another in the corridor. And it seemed to Rogers that while he might be the current occupant of the same office and apartment that Rackham lived in little over a week ago, Rackham had something that he had to deny himself. Rogers shook his head, grinned and turned towards the double doors. "Well, it is time for me to meet this man, I think."

Eleanor nodded and hastened away, while Rogers straightened his blue-green calico waistcoat and justaucorps, his finest. He swung the doors open with a grand gesture and a wide smile, full of anticipation. A tall, meager chap with finely trimmed sideburns and moustache, dark hair and dark eyes turned his head around to look at him. Though the man's calico justaucorps was worn and stained, it was evident he was particular about his appearance.

"Captain Rackham," Rogers smiled. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Rackham gaped at him, mystified. "Give us the room, please," Rogers told the two regulars guarding the prisoner. "Drink?" asked Rogers.

"Thank you," Rackham said with some relief. He spoke the immaculate English of high class London. Though he was no son of high class, Rackham certainly had done all he could to appear a cultured, educated man.

Rogers walked to the cabinet set against the southern wall, opened the glass container and poured red wine in a crystal glass. "I apologize for the strangeness of this meeting. I know you and I don't know each other."

"I know you some. I read your book," Rackham said reticently with his back to Rogers. He wiped his finger across Rogers' desk, while Rogers sealed the wine decanter with a glass cork.

"Did you?" Rogers said amused. He set the glass of wine on the desk for Rackham and walked to the other side of the desk.

"Well, most of it. I confess, I may not quite have soldiered through to the end. But, you know, I got the gist of it." Rackham raised his glass to Rogers standing near the window, and Rogers raised his with a polite smile in return.

It did not escape Rogers' notice that Rackham tried to make a dig at him. That is perhaps the deviousness Eleanor warned me about. So, before sipping from his own wine, Rogers frowned and said, "If you don't mind my asking, what did you take to be its gist?"

Rackham stared at the desk in thought before answering. "Wealthy son of a wealthy man takes to the sea to prove something to the parents, presumably. Seeks adventure, finds the limits of his own capacity. Loses everything in the process and then stumbles upon a hell of a story."

Rogers raised his eyebrows. One could tell a great deal about a man in the way they perceived you, judged you. It was so with Chamberlain, who marveled at Rogers' adventures, but considered Rogers a reckless man. Rackham focused more on wealth and luck, and thought he saw a parental complex in it. Interesting.

It must have shown on his face, because Rackham said, apologetically and insincerely, "Please understand, I'm quite particular about my library, but people seem to have liked it fine, and it seems to have done wonders for you. So congratulations on all that." Rackham took his glass and downed it.

Before me, sits an envious man. "Thank you." Rogers sat down in his chair. "All of that notwithstanding you and I share an experience in this place. And as such, I'm hopeful that you'll understand why it is I brought you here today and what it is I'm about to ask of you."

Rackham nodded and squinted. "What's that?"

"I know you removed a significant amount of gold from the fort. I know it is in your possession, and I need you to give it up." In a lower voice Rogers added, "Or we're all dead."

First, Rackham looked stunned, then annoyed. But finally Rackham squinted one eye, rose, folded his arms and paced the office. His previous passive aggressive attitude had evaporated. "Spain knows about the exchanges?"

"They do, and they are displeased."

Rackham rolled his head and shoulders, turned towards the desk, reached for his empty glass and stepped towards the cabinet. "How do you know they know?" He put the glass down on the cabinet with a chink and reached for the decanter, looking sideways to Rogers to be permitted to touch his things. Rogers signaled it was fine by him. Rackham shook his head, and poured himself another glass. "So what does that look like? Return it all or it's the Rosario Raid all over again?"

"Something like that." As Rackham leaned onto the cabinet, Rogers hoped to make a connection with the man. "I understand why you did it. I know what it feels like to lose everything and feel powerless to do anything about it. The temptation to keep something to show for it all, I understand it." Rackham downed his second glass. "But it does not change the reality we face. That you face. For I assure you, if Spain invades over this, yours will be the first face they see."

Rackham turned to look at him, then stared at the wall before him and sighed. "I heard Henry Avery's name when I was a boy, heard the way people spoke it - grown men in awe of it. I came to this place so determined to do the same. That's not going to happen the way I thought it was, is it?"

"It never does," said Rogers softly. He rose out of his chair, and met Rackham halfway, seating himself on the end of his desk, facing the same direction as Rackham. "My advice? You want some say in how they speak of you? Write a book." Rackham chuckled bitterly. "Right now, what do you want to do?"

"Do you have a pen?"

Rogers gave Rackham paper, ink and plume as Rackham sat down at the desk. And as Rackham wrote his letter to his partner, Rogers filled Rackham's glass for a third time.

"Here." Rackham held out the letter for Rogers to read, never meeting his eye.

Rogers put the glass of wine down for Rackham, took the letter and read it. It was written in a flowery hand, with big curls and loops. The language was eloquent. It instructed Anne to trust the man who gave her the message, to come to Nassau immediately, with the cache. As far as Rogers could see, Rackham's letter asked exactly what he wanted. He smiled. "Thank you, Captain Rackham. I will see this letter dispatched immediately. In the meantime, relax, make yourself at home as we wait for your partner to hand over the cache. After that, you are a free and pardoned man."

"Anne will be mistrustful of anyone but myself approaching her," said Rackham. "So, send only one messenger to deliver my letter."

"All right."

"She might appear threatening at first. So, tell your man not to provoke her. She can be violent if she feels cornered."

Rogers pursed his lips and nodded. "Seems reasonable. I do not want to see any harm come to you or her."

Rackham turned and met Rogers' eyes, leaning his elbow over the back of the chair. "Your man can find her at the North-East beach if he takes the eastern interior road."

"Very much obliged to you, Captain Rackham, for seeing things so clearly and make both our lives a little easier." Rogers gave Rackham a curt nod, left his office, closed the door and met Eleanor further down the corridor. He waved the letter at her with a triumphant grin. As they went down the stairs, Rogers assured her of Rackham's cooperation. Perkins met them the bottom of the stairs, and Rogers placed the letter into his hand. "Give this to Lieutenant Hersey. Have him prepare to depart for the interior. I'll pass him details momentarily." He walked towards the table with a map of the island, leaned on the table and searched for the coordinates that Rackham had given him.

Eleanor urged, "He should be made aware Anne will not be taken lightly."

"Well, neither will Lieutenant Hersey," he assured her. But then Rogers' attention was drawn to the young woman with dark hair and skin like warm sand sauntering into the Assembly Hall with rustling brown silks.

"I understand Jack was arrested today," said Max angrily. "I would like to know why."

Rogers exchanged a glance with Eleanor. Here is the first test of Max's loyalty. But before Rogers could explain anything to Max, Lieutenant Hersey reported for duty. "You're to ride for the eastern interior road to the rocky coast with two more men." He pointed his finger to the location that Rackham had described. "You will find Bonny there." Rogers glanced at Eleanor, a cue that she understood.

"She wears a long coat and hat, dressed like a man as it were," said Eleanor to Hersey.

"She will be suspicious, so you must approach her alone, and with great caution for yourself and her. Keep the others out of sight. Hand her Rackham's letter. Do not harm her, for only she knows where the cache is."

Max squinted at the both of them. "What is going on?"

Rogers ignored Max. "Do you understand, Lieutenant. Only draw your sword against her if you absolutely must in self defense. Ride with haste. The sooner this is all over and done with, the better."

"Sir," the man clicked his boots and left.

Eleanor turned to Max and hissed, "Spain knows. They know you exchanged your share of the gold in gems, and how much exactly. And if we do not give all of it back to Spain then Nassau burns."

"They know?" said Max with eyes as wide as saucers.

Eleanor rolled her eyes, but Rogers smiled at Max. "Yes, unfortunately."

"Jesus!"

"The whole thing is an insult of the gravest sort to them," Eleanor said angrily. "How you ever came to believe that Spain would never find out is beyond me. You put us all in danger!"

Max arched her back and looked at Eleanor haughtily, but Rogers silenced Eleanor with a lifted finger and then smiled at Max. "Forgive her words spoken in heat. We have had several sleepless nights over this, fearing we all might be dead if we could not locate Rackham and his partner before they escaped the island. Do you now understand why I am holding Rackham in my office?"

Max noticed the manner in which Eleanor and Rogers communicated and understood each other without needing a word. It was not unlike another pair she knew. Prickly, Max turned away from Eleanor. "Yes, it is all clear to me now. I guess this means I am no longer part of the council?"

Eleanor bristled, and Rogers gently laid his hand on Eleanor's arm. "I see no reason for that. As far as I know, you realized your mistake and handed over your share of the gems to me the first night of our arrival so I could give it back to Spain. And so you proved yourself to act in Nassau's best interest and worthy of a council seat."

Max chuckled. Let nobody claim the governor is without wits. "What about Rackham and Bonny?"

"Rackham understood when I explained the predicament we might be in otherwise. He wrote a letter to Anne to surrender the cache to us." Rogers smiled at Max. "And then he and she will be free to go and come as they please."

Max glanced up at him, then at Eleanor. "May I see Rackham?"

"Of course." Rogers gestured to the stairs. "You know your way, already."

Max straightened her shoulders, lifted her skirts and went upstairs. Meanwhile, Rogers turned, only then realizing he still held Eleanor's wrist in order to keep her temper in check. He let go. "Are you done?"

Still clearly upset, Eleanor looked away from him. "She never thinks what the consequences of her actions may be for others!"

"Do you always consider the consequences of your actions?" he reprimanded her. Eleanor turned her head and gaped at him. "You could have cost me the street with your outburst." And as he looked at her, she lowered her eyes, ashamed. Rogers shook his head and sighed. "Well, it will soon be over and then we can rest all easy, knowing all of the cache and gold is on its way to Spain."