Cassie followed behind Ian as he made his way determinedly down the hallways of the Rodriguez house, their footsteps echoing on the woodwork as they went. The precise orderliness of everything in the building was still impressive to her: on every end table, every bookcase, and every shelf that they passed, not an item appeared misplaced. It kind of made the whole house feel a little like a museum.

A set of tall, oak, double doors swung shut behind them as Foster continued his brisk pace to his destination, of which he had not yet informed Cassie, who found herself jogging a couple steps to keep up with his longer stride. "Hey, long-legs!" she called. "Where are we going, anyway?"

Foster looked back with a raised eyebrow. "To tell Solange what we discovered. She'll want to be kept up to date on whatever we find."

Cassie nodded casually. "Right." Then her eyes brightened suddenly as an idea popped into her head. "Hey, we could ask her if her father ever said anything about Port Royal, too! Maybe it would give us a clue where to start looking."

Ian smiled at her as she came up alongside again. "Good idea. Maybe there's something there we haven't noticed before."

Cassie smiled back warmly, until a sudden feeling of embarrassment came over her. She felt her cheeks flush and quickly looked away as they drew close to another door. Ian rapped sharply on the wood and waited, his body at an angle to the door and his eyes looking down the hall as he listened for a response. A few sounds of stirring could be heard inside, then quick footsteps approaching, and then the door was suddenly pulled open and Solange stood before them, her rich brown hair hanging loose in wavy locks that pooled on her shoulders. A smile spread across her olive-toned features as she stepped aside to let the pair of them in. "Good morning- both of you! Please, come in!" Leaving the door open, she strode quickly across what was apparently her bedroom, her low heels clicking on the wood floor as she walked, until she arrived at her desk where she cleared some paperwork off and slipped it into a file in one of the drawers. "I was just taking care of some bills and things... You know- irritating, normal stuff that gets in the way of treasure hunting." She turned around and smiled brightly at Cassie and Ian again. "Find anything out last night?" she asked, directing the question toward Cassie.

"Yeah, we did actually," Cassie said, glancing at Ian. "The time on this note is a reference to the destruction of Port Royal, Jamaica, so 'H.M.' is very likely Henry Morgan, the privateer and one-time lieutenant governor of the island. Chances are we find Captain Morgan, we find the coin." She smiled wryly. "Unfortunately, I'm not talking about the rum brand, either."

"Although," Ian noted offhandedly, "going to Jamaica, it's almost a prerequisite that we do get some rum while we're there."

Cassie grinned at him, then turned her attention back to the olive-skinned girl in front of her. "The problem is, of course, we have no idea where to start looking for him. His grave was lost to sea in the tsunami that destroyed the city, and has never been located since."

Solange snapped her fingers and shook her head. "Of course. It can never be that easy, can it?" she asked, clucking her tongue.

"I'm afraid not." Cassie tilted her head to the side and carefully considered her next question, as she was still not entirely sure how sensitive of a subject Solange's late father was for her. "Did your dad ever say anything about Port Royal?" she asked delicately. "Did he leave any clues that could help us at all?"

Solange bit her lip and shook her head again, folding her arms over her chest. "No. No, I don't remember anything." She frowned thoughtfully, then suddenly her expression lit up. "No, wait! There was one thing... I don't think it will be much help though." She turned and dug through her desk drawers for a minute, eventually coming up with a small piece of paper that was torn along one edge. "This was the last real letter I received from him before he died. It was written on part of a map of Jamaica. It does include Port Royal." She flipped the page over to show them.

Cassie squinted at the document, then looked up at Solange questioningly. "May I...?" she asked, still doing her best to be respectful of her loss.

"Please," Solange said, extending it to her.

Cassie took the letter in hand and began reading, though her Spanish was a bit clunky and it took her a few minutes. While she read, Solange kept talking. "I don't remember him saying anything specifically about Port Royal, or even Jamaica, but perhaps there was some reference I missed."

"Did it seem odd that it was written on the back of a map?" Ian questioned.

Solange shook her head. "Papa was in the habit of using whatever paper was available to write to me, so it wasn't at all unusual to receive mail that was printed on the back of such things."

Cassie finished reading through it and frowned. "I don't see anything that sticks out..." She looked back at the dark-skinned girl across from her. "Do you remember anything that did strike you as odd about it?"

Solange took the message back from Cassie and searched the hand-written lines for any clues. Finally, she said uncertainly, "It did seem like he was maybe in a hurry when he wrote it." Giving it back to Cass, she pointed at a word that had been struck through with multiple dark lines. "His letters did not normally have so many mistakes."

Looking through it again, Cassie took note of the point. "There is quite a few," she muttered, her eyes scanning back and forth across each line. "Probably a half-dozen or more, and it's only about a half a page's worth of a letter." She glanced over at Ian. "Foster, do you have that other note?"

"Sure," he said, fishing it out of his jacket pocket and handing it to her. She took the scrap of hotel stationery and held it next to the letter, comparing the two side by side.

"He wasn't in a hurry," Cassie said carefully. Her head still bowed over the two notes, she lifted her eyes to meet Solange's. "I don't think, anyway." She handed both documents to the girl as she explained her theory. "Look: the penmanship isn't any different between the two. You would think if he was in a rush, the writing on the map would be sloppier, but they look nearly identical as far as how the letters are formed."

"You're right," the other girl said. "Maybe he was just distracted?"

The corner of Cassie's mouth quirked into a frown. "Maybe... unless the errors are hiding something. Does it make a sentence if you string together all the crossed-out words?"

After a minute of looking it over, Solange shook her head. "No. I don't even think you could rearrange them to make anything sensible."

Cassie huffed in annoyance. Taking the letters back, she looked at each of the misspelled words in turn. What could it be? she wondered as she went through the it again. It was on this second time reading through that she noticed something.

"Wait a minute..." she mumbled. Suddenly spinning away from the desk, she began to mumble to herself, occasionally flipping the letter over to see the map on the back. "That just might be it!" she said, her excitement rising as she began to walk toward the window.

Ian raised an eyebrow. "What do you got, Cass?"

Cassie stopped just before the window to turn and wave the letter at him. "A hunch," she said. "Look- on all of the words he crossed out, he just struck them through with a couple lines. All of them except," she pointed to one mistake that had been slashed out with a bold "X", "this one," she finished.

Quirking a quizzical brow, Foster asked, "So what word is that?"

"I don't think it's about the word," Cassie said, turning back to the window. "I think it's about the mark itself." She pressed the words against the glass so that the map was facing towards her and spread the page flat against the pane. The bright sun shining through the letter made the editing lines visible on the map, and the "X" in question appeared just off the coast, near the shores of the village of Port Royal. She laughed and pinned the location with her finger. "Bingo." Looking over her shoulder at her two friends, she added with a smile, "X marks the spot, right?"

Ian chuckled and looked at Solange. "X marks the spot," he agreed. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the wall. "Now we just need Charlie and we'll be on our way."

Solange's expression became one of confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Cass was quick to offer an explanation. "Charlie Cutter. He's a friend of mine-"

"And mine," Ian interjected.

"-and his," she glanced at Foster. "He's been in the game a long time- used to help my dad on jobs back in the day- so he's really good. Also he's a pilot now, so he can get us where we need to go without the hassle of using commercial airlines."

The young Spanish woman still looked unsure. "I see." She hesitated, then asked, "So you told him what's going on already?"

"Don't worry, you can trust him," Foster said, pushing away from the wall. "He's put his life on the line for me and Cassie on more than one occasion. Have you heard anything from him?" Ian directed his question at Cassie as he walked by her.

Cassie pulled her phone out and checked it. "No yet," she frowned. "Hopefully he's actually able to make it like Uncle Sam said. That'd be a real bummer if he couldn't..."

"Well," Foster said as he placed his hand on the doorknob and looked back at the two girls behind him. "I, for one, am famished. Anyone up for coffee and churros?"

At the mention of food, Cassie's stomach rumbled and she realized just how hungry she actually was. "Please!" she said eagerly. "I'm starved, too."

Giving her one of his trademark half-smirks, Ian nodded and opened the door. "Be back soon."


Seated back at the desk in the den, Cassie held a pencil in hand and chewed on the eraser as she used Ian's laptop and a few books from the Rodriguez library to study up on Henry Morgan and Port Royal. Her eyes scanned down several lines on the computer, then she flipped a couple pages in a thick, hard cover volume and compared the information. "This guy was crazier than I remembered," she muttered as she jotted down a note in her journal.

The alert tone on her phone caught her attention, and she picked it up to see a new message from Charlie. "There's the man of the hour," she whispered to herself as she pulled up the text.

Cutter- Charlie Cutter, sent 11:41 A.M.: JUst landed in LIsbon. WHere should I meet you?

Cassie's face scrunched at the seeming general incompetence of every one of her dad's friends at using technology. Except for Chloe, of course. Chloe managed to stay pretty on top of things like that. She texted back, sending the address of the Solange's house, then sent another message to ask when he would be arriving.

Me, sent 11:42 A.M.: HOw LOng WIll YOu BE?

She chuckled to herself as she went back to her reading while she waited for a response. Taking a sip of water, she frowned in concentration at the screen. A minute later, she heard another text come in.

Cutter- Charlie Cutter, sent 11:45 A.M.: Ha ha. Real funny, luv.

Me, sent 11:45 A.M.: :-)

Cutter- Charlie Cutter, sent 11:46 A.M.: Be there in about an hour

She stuffed her phone in her back pocket and closed the book, then stood up from desk and walked to the great room to let Ian and Solange know.


True to his word, about an hour later Cassie got another text from Cutter, stating simply, "outside". Cassie ran and threw the door open, a wide grin on her face. "Charlie!"

The aging Englishman had his back to the door, apparently inspecting the bronze statues on either side of the entrance, but he turned at the sound of Cassie's voice. Dressed in a lightweight, brown leather jacket over a white T-shirt and jeans, Cutter looked much the same as he always had despite a few extra creases faintly visible on his face. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back at Cassie's enthusiasm, and in his distinctive accent he drawled, "Hello, Sunshine. Miss me much?"

Cassie smiled even bigger. "You have no idea!" Stepping aside so he could come in, she added, "Good to see you again, Charlie."

"This place is right impressive," Cutter observed as he followed Cassie through the hall. "I was startin' to think I had gotten the wrong address. Didn't know anyone with the last name 'Drake' would have friends who are this rich..." he wisecracked.

"Hey!" Cass laughed.

She led him to the great room where Charlie greeted Ian with a quick bro hug and, "Foster! Glad to see you haven't gotten yourself killed." Then Cassie introduced him to Solange, whom he shook hands with, and the four of them sat down on the plush leather sofas that graced the Rodriguez's living room to recap the job for Cutter. At the end of the explanation, the Englishman leaned back, sinking into the cushion on the couch, and steepled his fingers under his nose thoughtfully, drumming his pointers together before finally addressing Cassie.

"Just one thing that bothers me about this, luv," he said carefully.

The corner of Cassie's mouth twitched up in slight concern. "What's that?"

He furrowed his brows, then said, "Seems like you could just ask your parents for help on this one. I mean, tracking down two old coins, one of which is probably sitting at the bottom of the ocean in a wrecked pirate colony?" He shook his head. "Your dad eats this kind of stuff for breakfast. There must be something more to this."

Cassie shifted uncomfortably. "Uhm, I just... I don't think I want him in on this quite yet. He and my mom might freak about the danger, you know?"

Charlie laughed outright. "The danger? Luv, your old man knows danger like no one else, and from what you've told me so far, this seems like a shoo-in! What do you think could possibly happen on this job that would scare him?"

"Well," she cleared her throat and looked over at Ian for support, "you see... I mean, you just never know-"

Foster came to her aid, interjecting, "What she's trying to say is that we may have neglected to mention that there's a blood-thirsty cult led by a spooky guy with tattoos that is also trying to get these coins."

Cutter raised his eyebrows in disbelief and scoffed. "Oh, yeah, I can see how you'd forget to mention that," he said sarcastically. "That sorta thing slips my mind all the time." Heaving a heavy sigh, he added, "No rest for the wicked, eh? I suppose I should pretty much just consider that sort of thing to be an occupational hazard, at this point."

Foster shrugged nonchalantly. "Seems wise."

"Well!" Cutter exclaimed, and clapped his hands before resting his right ankle on his left knee and lacing his fingers around his leg. "I'm at least glad we're having this little conversation now, instead of when we're already being shot at." He sighed again. "I'm gettin' too bloody old for this," he mumbled to the ceiling.

"That's Sully's line," Cassie said, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. Cass watched as Cutter visibly weighed the options, and she let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding when the Englishman threw up his hands in resignation. "Ah, what of it?" he conceded. "I could use a trip to Jamaica. Maybe I can visit Hotel Goldeneye while we're there."

Ian smiled back. "I'll make a point of it."


The joke about Cutter's texting skills may seem redundant, as I already made fun of Sam's technological ineptitude last chapter, but it was born of my tendency to hold the shift key about a half-second longer than I should. Finally, I said, "Screw it, I'll make it a part of the story!"

Also, for anyone who's been here for this as well as Legends Never Die, you may have noticed that my headcanon (vaguely supported by Charlie's comment in Drake's Deception about John Dee being the original 007) is that Cutter is quietly an avid James Bond fan.

Next stop, Jamaica! (I don't know why I'm so excited about that, but I think it's gonna be really fun to write...)