Mafia Hit - Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?

The Captain awoke from a fitful slumber. A late night of planning and eager anticipation had made sleep difficult. He had deciphered the clues, and knew where the treasure was hidden. Soon, the ship and the gold would be his. All they had to do was get there before the Reaper. A race with death. What seemed simple last night now was daunting.

Turning to his desk to get his charts, the Captain noticed something that had not been there before. A parchment lay upon his desk, and in its center was the black spot. The vision of the dark ink sent chills down his spine. The Captain refused to let the fear created by the black ink take him. They were on the open sea and would be hard to catch.

Steadied, the Captain went to relieve his first mate at the wheel. The air was still. The air was still, there was no breeze to hasten their departure. Fear once again began to reach out for the Captain. Looking to the horizon, he noticed two ships. The first did not seem to be moving. The second? The second was heading strait for him!

Why had the call not gone out? The Captain looked to the crows nest. From that vantage point his shipmate should see in each direction. There was no one in the nest, why? This was no time for the crew to take advantage of his nature. His first mate would have to forgo rest for now, the order would need to be given and oars needed to be manned. The Captain gave one last look towards the ships before turning a full circle, looking for a way to escape. There was a ship moving swiftly towards them from each direction.

The Captain ran to the wheel only to discover that his first mate had been slain in the night. He yelled for his crew, but no answer came. He knew he was now alone. Standing defiant with a hand upon the wheel, he would await his fate.

His fate came quickly. The destruction of his complete. The Captain lay bleeding on a piece of flotsam. It would not be long before Captain Bart Westcott joined his loyal crew.

To be continued….