The battle on the pirate ship raged on, with Mr. Long’s men locked in fierce combat against the pirates. The deck was a chaotic scene of fists, blades, and bodies, each side fighting with everything they had.
In the heat of the battle, Mr. Long found himself face-to-face with the pirate captain. The captain, a burly man with a wicked grin, brandished a gleaming sword. “Well, well, what do we have here?” he mocked, eyeing Mr. Long with disdain. “Just another pesky rat trying to play hero. You’re nothing but a nuisance!”
Mr. Long, unfazed, drew his long knife, its blade glinting in the fading light. “You picked the wrong ship to mess with,” he retorted, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.
The pirate captain laughed, swinging his sword with a flourish. “We’ve seen your boat before, but today seemed like a good day to relieve you of your treasures. And what a haul it is!”
Mr. Long parried the captain’s strike with his knife, the clash of metal ringing out.
Clang!
“You’ll never get your hands on our cargo,” he growled, pushing back with fierce determination. “Even if it means we both go down with this ship.”
Clang!
Their duel was a dance of skill and strength, each man testing the other’s limits. The pirate captain lunged with his sword, aiming for Mr. Long’s side, but Mr. Long sidestepped, countering with a swift slash of his knife.
The captain sneered, circling Mr. Long. “You’re quick, I’ll give you that. But you’re out of your depth here, little man.”
Mr. Long smirked, feinting to the left before striking from the right. “You talk too much,” he said, his blade narrowly missing the captain’s arm.
The pirate captain, growing frustrated, launched a series of aggressive attacks, his sword slicing through the air. Mr. Long met each strike with precision, his movements fluid and controlled. The two leaders moved across the deck, their battle standing out in the midst of the chaos around them.
As they fought, the sounds of battle raged on around them-gunfire, shouts, and the clash of steel. Mr. Long’s men were holding their ground, but the pirates were relentless, refusing to back down.
The captain, sensing his crew’s faltering resolve, pressed harder, his attacks becoming more desperate. “This isn’t over!” he shouted, his voice tinged with desperation.
…..
….
Julyan stood at the dock, gazing out at the vast ocean before him. He watched the direction in which Mr. Long’s boat had disappeared with his crew. It had been over thirty minutes since they left, and he estimated that they were likely engaged in their mission by now. Suddenly, his phone rang. Answering the call, he heard the respectful voice of a gang boss on the other end.
“Mr. Hawk, we’ve transferred all the treasures, and as you instructed, we’ve destroyed and burned all the papers and documents,” the gang boss reported, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “Mr. Hawk, are you sure you don’t want a share of these treasures?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Julyan replied with a peculiar smile. “My mission is complete. You can divide the treasures among yourselves. As for the drugs, leave them there. Before you leave the scene, tie up the guards and call the police. Let the police handle it. With no documents and only drugs left, they’ll investigate the source.”
The gang boss nodded, thanked Julyan, and ended the call. Following Julyan’s instructions, he left the scene. Julyan remained standing, as if waiting for something.
Ring… Ring…
His phone rang again, this time a call from one of his associates. “You arrived earlier than expected. How’s the situation there? Is the scene cleared, and did you get all the treasures?” Julyan asked immediately.
“Julyan, we just arrived at the scene. It seems real pirates attacked the target’s boat. We’ve been watching from a distance,” replied one of the mafia members who had posed as pirates.
Julyan was taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. He had assumed it was his companion who had attacked earlier. Who would have thought there were actual pirates involved? He let out a hearty laugh before responding, “Let them fight it out. Clean up the scene once both sides are exhausted. Clear the mess and eliminate everyone there, pirate or mafia.”
…..
Using a binocular telescope, Diego watched the fierce battle unfolding on the pirate ship and the deck of Mr. Long’s vessel. He chuckled to himself, “Looks like we’ll just wait for the big fish to cook itself. Both sides are wearing each other out.”
Diego sat down with Marco and Carlo, who were also observing the scene from their stopped boat, not too far from the action. The three of them settled in, like diners waiting for a meal to be ready, except their “meal” was the exhausted mafia and pirates.
“Seems like the pirates did us a favor by showing up,” Marco remarked, leaning back against the side of the boat. “They’ve made our job a whole lot easier.”
Carlo nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, who would’ve thought? We just have to sit back and let them tire each other out. Then we swoop in and clean up.”
Diego laughed, shaking his head. “It’s like waiting for a roast to finish cooking. We just need to be patient.”
The three of them continued their casual conversation, sharing jokes and stories to pass the time. They were relaxed, knowing that the chaos on the ships was playing right into their hands.
As they chatted and laughed, the sound of gunfire gradually faded, leaving the ocean eerily quiet. Diego stood up, peering through the telescope once more. A satisfied grin spread across his face as he observed the scene.
Diego stood at the helm, his voice booming across the deck. “All right, lads! Fire up the engines and let’s head for our prize!” he shouted, his excitement palpable.
As the ship began to move, Diego lowered an eye patch over his eye, adding a touch of authenticity to his pirate persona. Carlo and Marco joined him, each donning pirate hats and affixing fake mustaches to their faces. The transformation was almost theatrical, but it served a purpose.
Around them, the rest of the crew got into character. Some wore striped shirts and bandanas, while others sported fake scars and eye patches. A few even had plastic parrots perched on their shoulders, and several crew members had attached fake hooks to their hands, completing the pirate ensemble. The deck was alive with the energy of a crew ready to embrace their roles.
The ship itself, a replica pirate vessel, added to the illusion. Its wooden hull and billowing sails made it look like something out of a swashbuckling adventure. As they approached their target, the crew moved with a mix of humor and determination, their eyes sharp and focused.
“Remember, lads,” Diego called out, his voice carrying over the sound of the waves, “we’re here to clean up the mess. Let’s make it look good!”