Rita nodded.
“Someone is going to notice her sooner or later,” said Steve. “We should say that she came back from shore on the wrong longboat. I don’t think anybody will care. These buccaneers just want everyone to take a turn at the chores and to divide the loot fairly after a raid.”
“That is reasonable,” said Hunter. “Rita, what do you think of that?”
“It sounds plausible. But they better not see me till these clinging clothes dry out and get baggy again.”
The ship captains came up on deck, holding rolled maps in their hands. They were talking and laughing among themselves. Steve stood up to watch. The napping buccaneers woke up, and those at the rail also turned.
“Gather ‘round, mates,” called Captain Morgan, waving to everyone. “We’re off for Portobelo in Panama, the richest city in New Spain!”
The buccaneers looked at each other in surprise and cheered, but Steve felt they were less than truly enthusiastic. Captain Morgan began telling them all about the wealth to be found there. Steve knelt next to Rita.
“What’s wrong with everybody? Why aren’t they more excited about all the booty in Portobelo?”
“The trouble is, Portobelo is also the most strongly fortified and defended city in the Americas right now,” said Rita.
“Really? What’s it like?”
“It’s situated on a river, a short distance inland from the river mouth. Every man in the fleet has probably heard about it.”
“Strongly fortified? In what way?”
“The harbor to Portobelo is guarded by three forts, one on each side of the entrance and one on a cliff overlooking the city. Any ships that sail within range of their cannons to attack will get smashed to pieces long before they can land;’
“Quiet,” said Jane. “They’re coming this way.”
“Have a look, mates,” called Captain Morgan, striding across the deck to the shoreward side of the ship. His captains and the buccaneers followed him. “Look down the coast to the south from here. Portobelo lies less than two days’ sail from here. When the men return from foraging this evening, we’ll have a fine supper. Then we’ll sail!”
Another chorus of cheers rose up, no stronger than before. Captain Morgan dismissed the captains, who boarded their longboats again to return to their ships. Then he saw Steve, Jane, and Hunter watching him. Rita had slipped around to the other side of the crates.
“So, Hunter,” said Captain Morgan with a challenging grin. “Are you as fainthearted as my other men?”
“I have every confidence in you,” said Hunter.
“Ah! That’s what I like to hear. Steve, what about you, then? What do you say?”
“I say that you know more about this than any other man afloat,” Steve said carefully. “But Portobelo will be tough to crack, won’t it?”
“Not so tough, mate. Well, I’ve told my captains what we’ll do, so it’s no secret now. We’re going to sail down to a creek I know of about twenty miles south of Portobelo. We’ll anchor our ships there, and sneak up on Portobelo inland.”
Steve glanced at Rita around the corner of the crates, out of Captain Morgan’s sight. She gave him a slight nod. He turned back to Captain Morgan.
“Inland, huh?” Steve said.
“Aye, mate. We’ll visit their back door.” Captain Morgan winked and strolled away.
Rita moved again, to remain out of his sight.
“Rita,” Hunter said quietly. “Do you know where MC 2 is now? Is he with the fleet at all?”
“I don’t know for sure,” said Rita. “But Wayne said I was a hostage. I asked him what he wanted with me and he said he would trade me to you in exchange for MC 2 and a promise not to interfere with him. He kept saying he didn’t want to hurt me. He only wanted his robot back.” She hesitated. “You know, when he and Captain Tomann first locked me up, Wayne was very forceful-he seemed to know what he was doing. The last time he talked to me, I got the feeling he wasn’t too sure anymore.”
Steve looked at Hunter. “So Wayne doesn’t have MC 2 yet. But MC 2 could be anywhere.”
“Maybe Roland has him again,” said Hunter. “Roland knows that MC 2 will follow his instructions. Maybe they are together on a ship in the fleet.”
“Rita, how well does this voyage go?” Steve asked. “Does Morgan do okay?”
“Yes, he does very well.”
“I am continuing to radio MC 2 occasionally,” said Hunter. “No response, of course, or I would have told you about it. Still, we should turn our attention to the Hungry Hawk again.”
“Do you want to swim over there and look for him?” Steve asked.
“No. The captains will be back on their ships soon. So will the foraging crews and I do not want to be caught sneaking around over there while you three are still on board here. We could all row there, but we might not find MC 2 on the ship after all. Then we would still have to answer to the buccaneers for our presence if they found us there.”
“They wouldn’t take kindly to that,” said Rita. “Treachery is common among buccaneers and they aren’t too patient when they believe they’ve found it.”
“I understand,” said Hunter. “For now, I will have to wait. I believe that my next opportunity will arrive when we anchor south of Portobelo.”
The foraging crews brought back as many birds and bananas as they could carry on the longboats, along with the kegs refilled with fresh water. On land, it would not have been a remarkable meal, but after a week on shipboard, the buccaneers considered it a welcome change. As the sun went down, they roasted the birds on deck. Captain Morgan broke out some carefully measured rations of the rum that had been kept in reserve. They ate and drank and sang, preparing themselves for the fight that would be coming soon.
Hunter, Steve, and Jane kept Rita away from the buccaneers at first. As twilight fell, and the buccaneers drank more, the team brought Rita closer to them. They shared quietly in the meal and none of the buccaneers took any special notice of Rita.
Hunter observed that Captain Morgan drank little himself and had served rum rations that were quite modest. The reason became clear later that night, when the captain used signal lanterns to order the fleet to sail on the night tide. The crew was in condition to respond, and Hunter saw the lights of the other ships follow them.
The voyage remained uneventful until the fleet anchored once again, two days later. They stopped off a jungle-covered coast that was little different from that of Costa Rica. As before, Hunter compared his internal map with the direction and speed of the ship and confirmed that they were off the coast of Panama.
The sun blazed low in the west. Captain Morgan gave orders to row supplies and crew members ashore in the longboats. Some buccaneers on every ship eagerly began lowering the boats. Others ran to fetch crates of weapons or kegs of gunpowder and shot.
“Hunter,” said Steve, quietly. “What shall we do?”
“I am radioing MC 2 again, but he is still not answering. I am not sure what to do. Rita, what will happen next?”
“Unloading all the ships will take several hours. Then Captain Morgan will leave a substantial rear guard camped on shore to protect the ships from any unforeseen threat. He will take the majority of the buccaneers north up the coast, to the mouth of a river. Portobelo is a short distance upstream on the river.”
“Our best move will depend on MC 2,” said Hunter. “If he remains on the Hungry Hawk, then we will have to go there. If he goes ashore, then we should too. Or maybe he is not with the fleet at all.”
“The Hungry Hawk is lowering its longboat,” said Jane, pointing. “Hunter, can you make out any individuals on deck over there?”