The tavern was crowded and stank of sweat, salt and tobacco smoke. An off-key violin, played by either an amateur filled the room with a noise that could barely be called music, but that did not stop the patrons of the tavern from trying to sing a shanty to the tune. The tables and chairs were little more than scraps of wood hastily nailed together and the floor looked like it needed to be replaced weeks ago. While the crowd was still as well-behaved as pirates could be - plenty of swearing, drinking and boasting but no fist fights yet - the free flow of drinks and occasional boasts of knowledge of treasure was bound to start a fight eventually.

None of this bothered Alexander Van Rooiakker. Well, the tobacco smoke did, but he just saw it as part of the job. He looked relaxed as he sat in his seat, his posture slouched and his left hand drumming a steady beat against the surface of the table. He wore a dark brown military style regimental coat which looked as if it had seen far better days, a pair of dark brown trousers and knee-high, buckled boots. His attire allowed him to blend in with the crowd, more or less. The weapons he carried on his person - two pistols at his hip with two more on his lower back, a sword sheathed at his right side and a carbine slung across his back - did not allow him to be the most unnoticeable person, but it did keep most people away.

Alexander pushed the rough-spun scarf wrapped around his neck and lower half of his face further up his nose. It was uncomfortable, but it did help to conceal his identity, and that was what he wanted to achieve. His line of work was dangerous, to say the least, and he wanted to take every precaution when meeting a contact. He was pretty sure a number of them were just a downsizing in the navy away from becoming a pirate, or were already pirates. Still, Alexander enjoyed his work. He was paid to drink, explore and do as much harm as he could to the French government. That was a dream job as far as Alexander was concerned.

Speaking of contacts, he furrowed his brow as he scanned the crowds for the person who was supposed to meet him. He did not like people being late.

"I hear plenty of pirates these days are searching for something called the Touch of Midas," A smooth voice said in English opposite him. Alexander pushed his wide-brimmed hat up slightly and saw a well-dressed man in a clean, sky-blue coat and wearing a tricorne on his head opposite him. The man took a seat and leaned forward. "A fool's errand, but at least it is of their own volition."

At the mention of his codename, Alexander leaned forward. "Where the hell were you?" He hissed. "This isn't exactly a good place to leave a man waiting on his own."

"Calm yourself, Red." The man said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "My ship was unexpectedly delayed by rough seas."

Alexander furrowed his brow, but decided to drop the subject. "Why are we meeting?" He asked bluntly.

"Two weeks ago, the French informed us that they would be using Curaçau as a stop for one of their trade fleets." The man said, took out a sealed envelope from his pocket and placed it on the table. He slid it across to Alexander. "Of course, if they were to be attacked, the blame would fall to the Dutch Government. However, if the information was to say, be leaked by an adventurer in the Caribbean..."

"It would be harder for the French to make any sort of accusation against the Dutch government." Alexander said. 

The man smirked. "I have already arranged for one of our own ships to be attacked by pirates. A small sloop, nothing too important, but exactly what we might use to transport information quickly. Of course, my own vessel will come to the rescue and chase the pirates away, but not before they have boarded the sloop and gathered whatever loot they could carry." He said and leaned back, looking absolutely pleased with himself. "Anyone who catches the pirates will find an unsealed copy of the letter I have handed you in their possession."

Alexander took the letter and tore it open. Indeed, the hand-written message inside was a request from the French government to use the port of Curaçao as a rest stop for one of their trade fleets. It seemed small, consisting of only two frigates and two galleons. Easy pickings for a skilled pirate, or a group of unskilled ones. "Why not have your pirates spread the information, or just have them attack the fleet without coming to me?"

The man laughed. "Their only vessel is a brig and I don't trust them. They speak of fighting for freedom, but all it takes to make them work for me is the promise of a large payment. You, on the other hand, are someone the Dutch government trusts." He said. Then, as if he had just remembered something, he reached for his pockets again, this time taking out a small bag of coins and tossing it onto the table. "I believe gold is the universal currency. Use it for bribes and such."

Alexander nodded and stood up, stuffing the letter into one of his coat pockets. He picked up the bag of coins and weighed it in his hand. Finding it satisfactory, he stuffed it into another one of his pockets. "I'll see what I can do." He said and turned around, walking towards the crowd. This was a simple enough job, all he had to do was just spread information. He could always just pin up the letter, but that would probably lead to chaos as various pirates fought among themselves to be the one to catch the French trade fleet. 

No, he had to be discreet. He already had a person in mind, someone who would do anything for a bit of money. Someone who would be able to speak to various pirates in private.

Alexander walked over to the bar and shouted for the bartender. He waited until the man was directly in front of him before speaking. "Bring me Loosey Lucy. I've got a proposition for her."