The Devil’s Anvil sat in wait for another four agonisingly slow hours; the crew were promised action and riches, and neither of which were to be found. It was the middle of the evening now – the sun was beginning to disappear over the dark orange horizon. Many merchant ships wouldn’t risk arriving into Kingston at night, so it was now or never.

Otherwise, it’d be yet another day without any profit.

“Take us south-east, full speed!” Kirkwood yelled; his crew relevant to the order began scurrying the ship, climbing the rigging and the like. They moved quickly and with a purpose, which wasn’t exactly surprising considering that their livelihoods were on the line; wealth - or the lack of it - always was a great motivator. 

Old Ironwood had retired to his cabin in the following minutes, no longer content with standing by the helm. He stared at the map of the Caribbean on his ornate wooden table. In fact, most of his cabin was the same; it looked more like a British officer’s bedroom than a pirate captain’s quarters. He was so absorbed in the large piece of paper that he visibly jumped when he heard a knock on the door – it wasn’t even that loud. Good thing nobody was around to see his second of weakness. Kirkwood scratched his short blonde beard before clearing his throat. “Come in! If ye bloody well must.”

At his barking, the door began to open slowly, as if the person opening it didn’t wish to awaken a sleeping monster. Chambers stood at the doorway once again the very picture of fear. “C-Captain…” she squeaked out, almost as quiet as the smallest mouse.
Captain Kirkwood made no attempt at hiding his irritation. “Don’t waste my time, girl.” He growled. “Speak up.” He rested his head on his fist and slouched in his cushioned chair. 
The girl shrunk away a little more, but she had no desire to raise her captain’s ire again. “We… we’ve spotted a ship heading towards Kingston… she’s a merchant ship. I… I think.”

Kirkwood raised one his eyebrows. “Who’s ‘we’? Don’t you mean ‘they’? Don’t tell me you’re taking some credit for the crew’s work?!” he slammed one of his fists on his table; Chambers jumped in fright, despite the fact she saw it coming a mile off. “Tell ‘em I’ll be out in a minute, and to intercept that damn ship.”
Chambers nodded meekly and began closing the door as slowly as she’d opened it.
“Now!” After she left, he gave out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and finger.

Sure enough, he was out of his cabin after a minute with all his equipment; his sabre, jacket and two handguns. The Devil’s Anvil was already on an intercept course with the ship they had spotted minutes earlier. Kirkwood approached his first mate, a Yorkshire man called Nicholas. He was in his late twenties with short black hair and had a surprisingly well-kept beard. “What are we looking at?” Kirkwood muttered so only Nicholas could hear him.
“Merchant ship, Captain; flying the British flag. She’s a big‘un, too.” He handed his Captain a telescope.

Sure enough, a large merchant ship was in sight; from a quick glance at how low her waterline was, she was full to the brim with [i]something[/i]. An almost imperceptible grin appeared on Ironwood’s face. Normally he’d be wary of such an obvious prize, but he couldn’t afford to be picky at this point. “Take us in!” he yelled as loud as he could to his helmsman- the poor man cringed; he was only a few metres from the Captain anyway. 

The Devil’s Anvil was advancing towards her prey at full speed; she would end up with her broadside facing the merchant vessel’s bow at the current rate. Such a plan would have been obvious to anyone watching, and the crew of the merchant ship must have seen them by now…

However, the ship continued its heading. Some of the Anvil’s crew were beginning to grow suspicious, but the rest weren’t the types to look a gift-horse in the mouth. 

The ship’s British flag quickly began to descend once the Devil’s Anvil got close to completing its admittedly simple manoeuvre – if all victories were going to be that easy in the future, Kirkwood and his crew were going to live as kings. Just as cheers began to ring out amongst the crew of the Anvil, their target began to turn sharply to her left and started raising a different flag – a red and gold Jolly Roger. Hidden ports on the ship’s broadside began to open, revealing several rows of cannons. The ships were about to cross parallel to each other.

Kirkwood’s expression went from one of arrogant smugness to barely concealed anger. And… was he [i]afraid[/i]? “Oh… fuck.” He whispered so nobody else could hear him. The Devil’s Anvil didn’t have the firepower to last long against the monster that stood before her and Ironwood knew it. Unfortunately for him, it was too late to back out now. “Turn to starboard, now!” his helmsman once again cringed at his captain’s yelling, but nevertheless complied. 

The Anvil turned to her right, hoping to have a clear broadside shot at the back of their enemy. That said, she’d have to survive her adversary’s own broadside first…