Michael Aye - Barracuda

Tonyn who had been sitting on his desk while talking let out a deep sigh, then stood up. Glancing at the remaining wine he put the glass to his lips and finished the fruity liquid.

"Now sir, you've heard of the damn privateers taking the Betsy and her load of gunpowder right on our doorsteps. Then another group had the audacity to sail right into our harbour and fire on our ships and town.

Had it not been for Lieutenant Knight, we'd never have fired a shot in return. Now we seem to be in danger of losing all our supply ships without which we can't survive. A day will come when we are self-sufficient.

However, we are not there yet. Your job, admiral, is to make the coast of Florida too hot for these damn rogues."

Sitting in his chair while letting the governor speak had given Anthony's knee time to stiffen up so he stretched out his legs, flexed them, and then stood up.

"Do you have any idea as to the location the privateers might be using as a main base?"

"Anywhere! Hell man! The Keys is full of coves suitable for hiding. There's fresh water on most of them and deep water anchoring at some. Cuba is only a short distance from the Keys. However, the rogues could just as well be anywhere from Savannah to the Carolinas." Lowering his eyes and shaking his head, Tonyn said in truth, "I have no clue where the base is or if there is a specific base. As I said before, I'm sure some of our esteemed Spanish citizens are nothing more than spies, keeping the rebels well informed."

Then the governor returned to his chair behind the large desk. The meeting was over. As Tonyn shook Anthony's hand he said, "I will do all I can to support you but without the supply ships we can't even support ourselves. I wish you God's speed and good hunting, Admiral."

Master and Commander Sir Raymond Knight had not gotten use to the new title, or to the command of HMS

LeFrelon. The ship was a captured French corvette of twenty guns. However, as per Royal Navy protocol the day he had taken command as master and commander she ceased to be a corvette and became a sloop.

He was also amazed at the attitude and relationship between Admiral Anthony and the other captains and officers under his command. They all seemed to be so at ease and unafraid to voice their thoughts and recommendations when asked, unlike Commodore Meriwether's officers, who were afraid to speak due to his endless ridicule and sarcasm.

Standing in the admiral's cabin, Knight was still awed at the spacious, even elegant place. It had to be over thirty feet wide. The mahogany dining table contained ten leaves. The chairs were of finely tooled leather. He tried to relax, to reassure himself. He would not have been promoted had it not been felt he could handle the job. He had been knighted for his bravery in battle. Sir Raymond Knight, Knight of the Bath. His name and title had been the object of wardroom humor on more than one occasion. Unconsciously, he touched his neck which caused him to wince. The burn had just about healed, leaving the skin thickened and scarred and somewhat darkened. The burn had reached from his neck down to his chest and upper arm. Wearing his uniform made matters even worse. On board LeFrelon, he never wore his coat, except as specifically required by duty. An outcry of laughter broke Knight's revive.

Someone must have said something very amusing to cause such an outcry. Looking up Knight noticed a young, tall, dark-complected lieutenant approaching him.

"I'm Gabe," the lieutenant said by way of introduction as he held out his hand. "Looks like Lieutenant Kerry is catching the devil from Lieutenant Bush," Gabe said addressing the laughter.

"Aye," Knight replied. "I'm told they're related so no doubt the banter is friendly."

Shaking Knight's hand Gabe saw him wince and regretted his momentary absence of mind. However, other than the quick involuntary reaction, Knight gave no other hint of what he must be feeling. Gabe quickly looked at the tall prematurely graying man and decided instantly that he liked him. Knight had given a firm handshake with a quick smile on his face to cover the pain he had felt.

"I understand it was you who captured LeFrelon," Knight said. "I'm grateful, she's a good sailor." Feeling a bit embarrassed, Gabe corrected the commander, "I was supernumerary on the ship that took LeFrelon. It was actually Lieutenant Markham commanding Swan that took her."

"Don't you believe a word of that, sir." This from Markham who had been standing close and overhearing the conversation joined in. "No sir, it was Lieutenant Anthony alone. A cutlass in his teeth and a pistol in each hand he laid about the damn privateer like a man crazed. Hacking and cutting his way through the

cutthroats with cannon's thundering, blades clinging and musket ball flying through the air like a hive of bees."

"Were you not wounded, sir?" Knight asked Gabe thoughtfully.

Before Gabe could answer, Markham continued,

"Wounded… wounded you ask? Well, hell no. He was killed. Killed dead, sir, I swear, didn't you know like a cat, Gabe's got nine lives."

As Markham finished his outlandish tale the group of officers howled with laughter. Smiling in spite of being the brunt of Markham 's joke, Knight thought again, no sir, these men were nothing like those commanded by Commodore Meriwether.

CLINK… CLINK… CLINK… Captain Buck, Lord Anthony's flag captain, overhearing Markham 's narrative tried to compose himself as he tapped a wine glass with a spoon. A concerned Silas, the admiral's cook, sat in the corner. He was tempted to take the spoon out of the captain's hand. That wine glass was crystal and if Buck broke it with that damn spoon Lady Deborah would never forgive him.

The group quieted down and much to Silas's relief Buck laid the spoon down. "Gentlemen," Buck spoke to the room at large, "His Lordship was detained at the meeting with the Governor as you were all told, but his barge is approaching. Not a minute too soon I'm thinking as his generosity with a canter of wine appears to have taken on broader proportions. I hope there's sufficient left that Silas won't have to go ashore before Lord Anthony can have his supper."

This brought chuckles from the officers. When Lord Anthony came aboard he went directly to his dining room and addressed the issues that had been discussed at the Governor's meeting. He also outlined his plan of action and it was a determined group that returned to their ships.

"Like old times is it not?" Markham said to Earl.

"Pair up and patrol."

"Aye," a smiling Earl responded. "I just hope we're as lucky with a prize or two as his lordship was when we were in the West Indies."

"Aye," Markham replied, his mind already on how much his share would be as a ship's captain compared to when he was a midshipman.

The wind came from the north-northwest. Lord Anthony had shifted his flag to Merlin leaving his flag lieutenant, a disappointed and spitting-'n'-sputtering Captain Buck, behind on HMS Warrior. While Warrior was a fine third rate, she was much too big and cumbersome for the patrol Lord Anthony had in mind.

Warrior made a fine sight lying at anchor where just the threat of her guns would ward off most attempts to invade Saint Augustine. But Warrior would not serve well in the Keys. "We need smaller ships with shallow droughts to get in among the Keys as we patrol south along Florida 's coast," he explained. He had also left the ketch, HMS Pigeon, and the cutter, HMS Audacity, as Anthony wanted this to be a quick patrol and they'd never be able to keep up. Sailing as close to the coast as they were the bluish water was almost clear and alive with all types of fish. Gulls filled the air; the gawking birds would spread their wings and hover in the air.

Then, off they'd go, harrying other birds that came into their space.