To Clear a Name

[Mr. Skiperdoo]

I’ve had this idea for God knows how long, and until very recently, I’ve really had no way to express it. Until now… So before you go diving into this story, be sure to understand who on earth Ivan Hood is. I’m not going to really give away what’s going to happen, but I can assure you if you have absolutely no idea whatsoever, go read my other story right now.

Before we begin however, I must warn you that this may be a little dark, and I’m just warning you right now that you may not like what will happen. But, if you really have some intention on reading this, go ahead.

To Clear a Name

Prologue

Port Royal
17:41(This is a time, not a date)
July 24th

Today was the last day of the month that any naval ships would depart from these docks. This particular ship was carrying a large force of naval soldiers all bound to a destination unknown to everyone but themselves. And, as the ship was preparing to leave the dock, the people below either exchanged goodbyes or prepared themselves for personal boarding.

“You remember what to do?” Henry asked, loading his musket onto the gun crate residing next to the large frigate.

“About what?” Rendon questioned.

“About the evaluation silly.” Henry replied. “Remember you need to pass certain requirements in order to become the best hired gun to ever see day.” He said, patting his best friend on the back. “Are you sure about this? I mean not officially joining the navy?”

Rendon looked humbly towards the ground. “Yes, I’m sure of it.” He said, laying his eyes upon Henry’s musket. “You know I’d never be able to handle standing endlessly in line, waiting for the officer to give orders while we stand in the heat.” He said, smiling as he looked towards his best friend. “Of course, ever since I’ve known you, you’ve always been the tough guy, able to push through almost anything.” He gazed upon the large war frigate that towered above them. “And now,” He said, laying his hands in front of the massive ship. “Now you’re going to actually put that toughness to work.”

Henry looked proudly upon his musket. For a new soldier in the navy it wasn’t just any old musket. Instead it was more of a mark of honor, one that signified that the bearer was part of the greatest navy the world has ever known. “Rendon, I know you’re not really a fit for the navy,” He said, quietly making sure that nobody was calling him onboard. “But I’m sure wherever you go; you’ll always be helping England in some way.” He said, noticing the crate containing his musket being hoisted up onto the ship. “But for the rest of your life you’ll have to live with the realization that I’m doing a little bit more than you.” He said laughing.

“Hey!” Rendon said just before joining in laughter with his childhood friend. “As long as we’re both keeping these waters safe from pirates, fine by me.” He said, unfortunately ending their laughter in a sudden realization that for both of them it wasn’t all fun and games.

Henry quietly lifted his supplies off the ground and walked over towards the ship’s plank which looked like it was made out of old driftwood. “Yeah, pirates.” He said, walking closer to the plank.

“Henry I didn’t mean to…” Rendon said, but was soon cut off.

“It’s ok Rend, I just…” Henry said, looking sadly at the ground. “If I ever see a pirate,” He said, clenching his fist. “No matter who it is, I’ll make sure he pays.” He said, almost letting a tear fall from his eyes. Reluctantly he looked back towards his best friend. The one he’d known ever since they met each other trying to join the navy at age seven. “But, I’m afraid my duty calls me elsewhere.” He said, walking up the plank and taking one last look upon Rendon. “So… I guess this is goodbye?” He asked, not wanting to stretch his time limit with their conversation.

“I guess it is…” Rendon said, trying his best to communicate a goodbye in both facial expressions and words.


“Goodbye Henry.”

“Goodbye Rendon.”

And with that, the plank was knocked off its foundation. The ropes flew off in a violent but soon futile attempt at one stubborn one to hold the sea bound ship in its place. And not a minute later, exchanging final waves was the last that could be done before finally fading off into infinity.

Now Rendon was all alone, and he was alone not knowing where to go. Well, he knew where to go he just had almost no idea how it was going to be done in the first place. He recalled what his next job was as he contemplated his future. In truth, he never really wanted to be in the navy or even the EITC for that matter. He’d always found it much too restricting for anyone, especially for someone like him. But he soon came to the realization that whatever it was, he was going to do it anyways. And that would be protecting travelling merchants. He walked intently over to the large wooden gates of fort Charles. Now it was his turn to begin his “duties” as Henry called it. He finally arrived at the gates only to be met by a couple of guards who didn’t look too friendly.

One of the guards grunted and rolled his eyes at Rendon. “Hello fine citizen,” He said in a completely fake tone. “May you please give us a legitimate reason to let you into this highly exclusive area.” He said, keeping a straight face while his buddy guarding next to him nearly burst into laughter. “Hey stop it Roger,” He said to his red faced friend, only to return his stone gaze back to Rendon. “But seriously, what do you want? We’re holding an important event here and I’m not supposed to let any unauthorized personnel inside.” He said reading a paper from his hand. “So what are you here for?”

Rendon scanned his memory for the name of the officer he was supposed to meet before evaluation. “Commodore… Morrison I believe.” He said, hoping the guards would instantly recognize that name and let him in.”

“Commodore Morrison?” One of the guards repeated, scratching his chin. “I don’t remember any Morrisons,” he said shrugging. “Unless you have any documents certifying his existence, and the simple fact that he asked for you directly, I’m afraid I can’t let you in.”

“What?” Rendon yelled, remembering he didn’t have papers of any kind. “That’s absurd! Commodore Morrison ordered directly for me!” He cried, hoping the guards would have some amount of sympathy, but before they could give a reply, a man in a dark coat walked up to greet them.

“I’m sorry,” The man said. “I would’ve gotten here earlier, but I expected to find you waiting at the shipyard.” He said, grinning as he bowed in front of everyone like a true gentleman. “In case you haven’t noticed, Commodore Morrison’s a bit inept right now and he asked me to come and take you directly to your assignment.” He said, leading his hand out towards Rendon.

Rendon slowly turned aside from the confused guards and started to follow the stranger. “Who are you?” he asked, confused about what just happened.

The man kept walking towards an unknown destination, and with a little bit of waiting, he finally answered. “My name’s Robert Keenan,” He said in a low voice. “I work for a mercenary group known as the Swift Runners.” He said, smiling at those last words. “And apparently we’ve been looking for a new member.”

Rendon, still confused, stared up towards Robert, wondering if he was really taking him to Commodore Morrison. “Hold on,” He said. “Where are we going?”

Robert only gave a smile as he continued down the seemingly endless houses and shops along the streets. “You’ll see…”

~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, the two arrived at their destination. It was a small warehouse located in a conveniently secluded spot along the edge of town. While on their long walk the two talked about each other and what they were going to be doing. Robert told him that he’d be joining the Swift Runners as their newest member, along with going into further detail about them. To Rendon, the Swift Runners seemed to be something he’d thought up in one of his dreams. They seemed perfect for his style.

“In here,” Robert said, opening a large wooden door at the side of the building. Once Rendon was inside, he looked both ways before making sure nobody was near, and then followed him inside. In the warehouse it was dark to say the least, except for some sparse lanterns lighting the small storage area. Boxes, crates, barrels and all sorts of nets covered most of the room, except for a large square in the center. To Rendon’s left was what seemed to be a large bed of empty flour sacks on the floor. To his right was a literal wall of barrels and crates. And directly in front of him was a five foot drop into the center square, with four people inside of it.

“Ah, I see he’s arrived.” The man in the center of the room said. “Excellent job Robert, I hope you were able to find him quickly.”

Robert stumbled in front of the man. “Well, in a way yes… I did retrieve him, isn’t that all that matters?” He said, ready for whatever the response to that may be.

The man looked seriously upon Robert for a second and then came up with a response. “I suppose it is,” he said, turning his attention back to Rendon. “Now then, let me introduce myself. My name is Alan Carter,” he said, walking over towards the side of the room towards the other three people at the edge of the square. “This here is Owen Campbell,” He said pointing to the dark haired, seemingly quiet one. “Over to your right is John Harrison,” This one was bald, much taller, and much more muscular than the rest. “And last but not least, we have Thomas Wilson right here.” He said, showing him a dirty shorter man who looked like he hadn’t bathed in months. “These men may be working with you for the rest of your career.” He said, moving closer to Rendon. “That is, if you accept.”

Rendon thought it over in his head. Judging by what Robert told him, the job didn’t seem to be that bad, at least from what he was told. For him, he felt as if he may never get another chance at something like this ever again. So confidently, he reached his hand out to meet Alan’s, and shook his hand with the intention of never going back.

Alan smiled at him with a look that spelled success. “Good, good.” He said with happiness, only to have that change into a serious one soon after. “We’ve been looking for someone like you for quite a long time.” He said softly. “But I’m afraid we have a strict limit as it is…” He added, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. “Robert, please walk over to the empty bags of flour over there, will you?” He asked.

Robert was at first puzzled by this request, but he’d heard stranger. “Uh… yes sir.” He said, walking towards the sacks of flour on the other side of the room.

“Now make sure you stay there.” Alan said once Robert was facing directly away from the center of the room. He cleared his throat and leaned next to Rendon, taking a flintlock out of his coat and handing it to him. “Now,” He said, placing the gun in Rendon’s hand. “Kill him.”

Rendon let the gun rest upon his hand. He was completely shocked about what he was just been asked to do? “S-Sir?”

“Do it,” Alan said in a horrifying manner. “Or I’ll kill you, then him.” He said, backing away from Rendon.

Rendon slowly brought the gun up to where Robert was unknowingly standing. If only he knew what was about to happen. His hand shook at the thought that when the trigger was pulled, it would be responsible for taking a life in an instant. With what seemed to be an involuntary act, his finger pulled the seemingly weightless trigger as if it had all been for nothing. His last innocent sight was that of Robert’s lifeless body falling to the floor.

Alan nodded his head as he took the gun away from Rendon’s frozen hand. “Well Rendon,” He said, concealing the weapon. “Welcome to the Swift Runners.”
~~~~~~~~~~

So, Yeah, I feel almost evil writing this. So if any of you felt uncomfortable about that, just let me know. I told you it was going to be dark, aye? This all clocked in at about 2,200 words so I hope you’re all happy.

Comments? PLZ?

[Mr. Skiperdoo]

Chapter 1: The Answerless Questions

Aboard the Dread Reaver, somewhere along the straight of Tortuga.
09:51
October 21st

Journal entry, October 20th: It’s been almost three months now since I’ve joined the Swift Runners, and I can gladly say they’ve met all my expectations. Alan, as the benevolent leader he is, has decided to teach me in the advanced art of sword fighting, something Thomas has been itching to get into ever since he joined about a year ago. At first, it didn’t really make sense, the whole part about memorizing form, recognizing your opponent’s moves, and taking direct action accordingly. But in time, it slowly grew easier to get the hang of it; after all, I think Alan may be the best teacher I’ve ever had.

Thomas on the other hand, has been slowly gaining more and more trust, even though he’s still being his eccentric self. John has been growing even more fearsome as time goes by. I’d sometimes like to think of him as a “persuasion” tool. And I’m even more gladdened to say that Alan’s relationship with me is steadily becoming stronger.

However, being part of the Swift Runners doesn’t come without a price. Every day we carefully make sure that each and every part of our lives is kept in secret. ‘Tis often difficult to find a good job that doesn’t require us doing anything strictly for the navy, or even pirates for that matter. Usually Alan picks out the more neutral, safe jobs, however depending on the price; he may be willing to do just about anything. Yesterday for example, he was locked in a heated argument with Owen over whether or not they should accept a high pay, but very risky job. The argument ended with Owen storming out of the room, but I don’t remember if a real conclusion was met.

After three short months, I’ve finally started to feel like I’m in a real family, instead of just simply working together. As long as I don’t get on Alan’s bad side, (or anyone else’s) I’m sure everything will turn out just fine.

Rendon shifted through the pages before placing his journal on the large wooden desk in front of him. His room was normal to say the least, and besides the constant back and forth motions that sometimes made him feel sick to his stomach, it would be difficult to say it wasn’t a comfy place to live in. Rendon opened up one of the drawers on the front side of the desk. It was filled with various papers that he’d collected in the past few months. He smiled as he laid the journal neatly inside the desk.

Every few weeks or so, they’d find a new temporary residence aboard a designated ship. These ships were usually bound to no destination, but where bound to wherever the wind would take them. This usually had an upside to the Swift Runners, as they’d move in and out of different jobs pretty fast. Whenever a job was finished, they’d either return to the ship, or find a new one. Finding a new one wasn’t as difficult as it sounded; after all, Alan had many different contacts, and oft knew which ships were potentially good picks.

He walked over to his bed at edge of the room, and leaned so far horizontally that when his balance was lost, only the soft bed was there to catch him. He knew it was far too late to be lying in bed, but it didn’t matter too much since they didn’t have a job to do today. He stared blankly at the ceiling. At least he was one of the few people onboard who had their own room. Compared to most normal pirates, mercenaries, or freebooters, the swift runners usually had their ways when it came to finding a good room aboard the ship. In time, he learned some key rules of negotiation, and how to get your way in almost any situation.

He tilted his head back and started to recall the different rules of diplomacy and tactical bluffing he’d acquired in his time with Alan. ‘Always remember to let it flow out,’ he’d tell him. ‘Never let them know you’re on to them.’ He heard loud, thundering footsteps coming from outside to room, and peeked over to see what was going on, when suddenly, Owen barged in the door with a furious look on his face.

“I can’t believe him!” He said, throwing his hands up in frustration as he continued to ignore Rendon. “How could he not see the danger?” He wondered, nearly overturning the desk on the far side of the room in rage. He was able to calm down within a short period of time, sitting down on the desk’s chair to have his face return to its normal color. Once he sat down however, he was completely silent, not a sound came from him, until Rendon finally spoke up.

“What’s going on?” He asked, questioning Owen’s sudden eruption of anger.

Owen broke from his frozen state to look back at Rendon. Fear mixed with hatred engulfed his eyes, as he broke free from his outer shell. “Its Alan,” He said, nearly cringing at the mentioning of his boss. “He… do you just want me to tell you the whole story?” He asked, pouring out his strongest of emotions.

Rendon of course wanted in on the details of what was going on with him and Alan. He’d been terribly curious as to what their quarrel had been all about. Recently, they were fighting with each other almost continuously, and Owen was afraid if it had gone any further, they’d be stuck searching for a new member. Rising up off his bed, Rendon stared straight into Owen’s bloodshot eyes. “Tell me everything.” He said confidently

Owen laid his hands upon his lap, lowered his head, and cleared his throat. “Well,” he began. “About four months ago, before he requested for you, we…” he was beginning to show strong signs of uncertainty as his palms began to sweat. “We were assigned to eliminate a certain high value target.” He said, lifting his head up to meet Rendon’s. “And we had no idea about his affiliation with the EITC.”

“So?” Rendon asked, not understanding where this was going.

“So…” Owen repeated, continuing his painful recollection. “We thought we were in the clear, but a certain loudmouthed witness finally gave us away.” He said, standing up from the chair and clenching his fist. “Now, at this very moment, we’re being hunted down by some of the most able people in all of the East Indian Trading Company.” He said, sharing his worry with Rendon. “And to make it worse, Alan doesn’t even have a care about it. In fact, he just accepted another assignment just now.” He said, pointing angrily at the door.

Rendon took a deep sigh and got up from his bed. “And what would this assignment be about?” He asked, but before he could get an answer, John opened the door to greet them.

“I believe breakfast is ready.” He said in a nonchalant tone. “If you really want it, I suggest you come with me.” He said, implying that they may not want to eat in the first place.” He said, gritting his teeth. “It’s not even like you have a choice in the matter,” he said searching down the hallway for any signs of life. “Alan wants to talk to all of us for one of those “very important meeting” as he put it.” He said, closing the door behind him.

“Great,” Owen said. “I bet he’s going to talk about the assignment.” He noted, reaching for the door in front of him. “Well, I guess I’ll see you there.” He said, coming up with his best fake smile.

“I… guess I will too.” Rendon said, dismissing Owen from his room. He walked over back towards the desk and took out his journal. Whenever he’d be going somewhere he remembered always to bring his journal, for he may never return to where he left it. He sighed once again as he headed towards the creaky wooden door to start his day. ’I sure hope Owen’s exaggerating.’ he thought as he led himself down the hallway.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rendon walked into the mess deck. Tables filled with sailors and such lined the walls, with a few exceptions for special personnel at the edges. Most of all, it was extremely loud, as most people would have to raise their voice just to be heard. He quickly spotted the table reserved for the Swift Runners, made his own unexcited excursion towards his team. He positioned himself next to Owen, on the opposite side from Alan and Thomas.

“Where’s John?” Rendon asked, taking a seat on the hard, wooden bench. “Shouldn’t he be here?”

Alan took a deep breath and leaned back on his seat. “John’s unavailable at the moment. He’s… making sure the preparations for tonight’s mission are met.” He said, turning his head towards Thomas and nodding his head as if they were agreeing to something. “And, that’s exactly what I wanted to tell you all about.” He said, handing Rendon a bowl.

Rendon took the bowl, and stared at its contents. Sauerkraut and meat stew… great. He sighed as he took his first sip of its presumably dreadful contents. “Go on.” He signaled for Alan to continue.

“Well,” Alan began, folding his hands. “Two days ago, I was approached by a man that promised a hefty reward, for a dangerous job.” He said, looking towards his team with confidence. “This dangerous job however, will include us taking out another high ranking target.” He said, shifting a degree of uneasiness throughout the table. “And, under some careful consideration, I’ve decided that we’ll accept the mission in its entirety.”

Owen laid his elbow on the table as he rested his head upon his head. “Wait, haven’t we already been stretching the limits as it is?” He asked, hoping he could come to some sort of agreement that this was too dangerous. “And with people already going after us, isn’t it a good idea to just stay quiet for a while?”

Alan shook his head as he tried to figure out an adequate response. “True, but does the EITC ever search for enemies on Kingshead?” He asked, sending a shocking pulse through Rendon’s veins. “I highly doubt it, since the man we’re looking for tends to reside on Kingshead.” He said, resting his hand upon Thomas’s shoulder.

Another pulse of uncertainty made its way through the crew. None of them knew what response to give after hearing such an unbelievable statement. To hear that they’d be going to the navy’s stronghold was silly enough, but the fact that they had to eliminate someone inside? Impossible!

Alan finished up his bowl and ordered Thomas to follow directly behind. “You two finish up.” He said, nearing the stairs to the top deck. “Once you’re done, meet me and I’ll fill you in on the details.” He added, feeling strangely assured about such a mission’s success. He pushed himself further above deck, and soon disappeared into a place of “higher” existence.

“Well, not only did he forget to mention the part about Kingshead to me,” Owen said with a newly fueled anger. “But he acts like it’s another one of those easy jobs.” He said, slowly turning his head back towards Rendon. “Listen, I’m afraid he’s going to get us killed.” He said, grabbing Rendon’s arm. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Rendon, not wanting to show any disloyalty towards Alan, still knew that Owen was right. What was he thinking sending out a crack group of mercenaries on a hopeless mission to Kingshead? What reason would he have to do something so dangerous? Why would he risk not only his subordinates, but also his best friends as well? All these questions clouded his mind like an eruption on Del Fuego, only to have the answer locked away in silence.

Rendon finished up the last of his… soup and got up from his chair. “I have no idea what he’s planned.” He said, shaking his head in confusion. “But whatever it is,” he said waiting for Owen to get up as well. “I hope you’re wrong.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Rendon ascended to the outside deck, the fresh cool breeze brushing across his face was a drastic difference than the static heat contained within the loser decks. His soon became more accustomed to the changing environment, as he scanned for Alan on the crowded deck. Instead, he was able to find Thomas and John leaning on the mast, talking to each other about an unknown subject.

He leaned closer towards Owen as they neared the two. “I’ll ask them where Alan is.” He said, walking over towards the rest of the crew. Amidst the bustling traffic arising near the center of the ship, they seemed to be placed in the most inconvenient place possible. Fearing nothing else of importance was left to be said; he moved closer to John and asked him the whereabouts of their boss. At first, they looked at him with eyes that could see only the foolishness contained in the puzzled look that Rendon had. But reluctant as they may be, they also knew he had no idea about what was going on.

“He’s over there, talking to the ship’s captain.” Thomas said as if Rendon should’ve already known. “You do realize that we’re leaving the ship tonight?” He asked as if Rendon had already been filled in with every last detail.

“No, nobody told me anything about-

Rendon was about to finish when suddenly he was interrupted by Alan asserting himself into the conversation. “Good news boys, all preparations are fully accounted for.” He said with a smile. “We’ll depart tonight, but in the meantime, I suggest you all prepare for what’s about to come.” He said, leading the crew off. “All that is except for you Rendon.” He said, sending a chill down Rendon’s spine.

“Y-Yes sir?” Rendon shakily replied.

“You’ll be joining me in my cabin.” Alan said with a mischievous tone. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
~~~~~~~~~~

Well, there’s the next chapter. Let me say that I’m NOT done with my other story, but the events here do take place after that story. I also won’t be updating this one as frequently, but once I finish my other story, (which won’t be too soon) I’ll be able to fully focus on this one.

Comments?

[Captain Gas]

Very good, Skip! Although there is a censored word in your story. Might want to fix that. Other than that, it's great!