TEN MINUTES EARLIER

The sailors of the Altaïr had crossed the building to reach the bottom of the stairs of the watchtower. They had searched the rest of the town hall, but Tolas preferred not to leave anything to chance.

"I think we'd better wait here. If anyone has gone up there, they'll have to come down eventually." The boatswain explained aloud.

Cornell and Skepta nodded in agreement, but Raphaëlle seemed to ignore him. Tolas approached the young woman, who was shining her flashlight on the mutilated body of the receptionist in her chair.

"We can't just leave her like that." she said, sensing the presence of her friend behind her.

"Raph’, I don't know if we really have time to do anything for her."

The girl made a disdainful noise and, without waiting, she picked up the receptionist's body in her arms and laid her on the floor, running a hand through her hair. Cornell approached Tolas and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Kiddo, I get ya wanna do good but showin’ some heart ain’t a fault..."

Tolas opened his mouth to protest, but the old man continued speaking.

"...especially if ya wanna be a differen’ kind of bosco from yar brother.” he concluded with a small smile.

The young man remained silent before nodding. He returned a timid smile to Cornell, who simply nodded towards Raphaëlle. The boatswain walked over and knelt down next to his friend, who had torn a piece of the young woman's jacket and had gently cleaned her face. Not knowing what he should or could do to show his support, he took the arms of the corpse and crossed them over her chest. The wolf nudged him with her shoulder to show her appreciation as she finished cleaning her face.

"If it had been me, I’m sure you’d have preferred people to show a little respect for my corpse, right?" she said with a touch of macabre humor. "We couldn’t just leave her like that..."

"I... I get it." Tolas replied.

While the two teenagers slowly resumed their conversation, Skepta approached the now empty chair and discreetly tried to take it with him to sit next to the entrance of the watchtower. But he soon felt the heavy weight of disapproving eyes on his back and turned around.

"Just when I start to find ya bearable, ya find a way ta be a tool.” Cornell said disdainfully.

Skepta blushed in the darkness but did not let go of the chair.

"I'm getting real tired of you judging me every time I do something!" the technician complained, meeting Cornell's gaze.

"Have ya tried not shittin’ tha bed?" the old sea wolf replied.

The technician widened his eyes indignantly and, with an exasperated pout, he lifted the chair even higher while staring Cornell in the eyes, and he put it down in front of him. The old man raised a finger, his nostrils flaring and his head slightly tilted to the side, but Skepta ignored him and prepared to sit on the chair when the sound of a voice reached them from the top of the stairs, freezing them both in their tracks.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"... tell you that..." they managed to hear before the voice stopped.

The silence lasted only half a second, and soon the sound of something cascading down the stairs, tumbling towards them at full speed, echoed in the room.

Tolas and Raphaëlle abruptly stood up when they heard the noises behind them and the body of a pirate landed violently at Skepta's feet.

The man, rather worse for wear, let out a sharp cry of pain, his eyes closed, and he writhed a little on the ground. The technician, reacting in a split second, grabbed the backrest of the chair and slammed it with all his might straight onto the pirate's head. The object broke under the force of the impact, and the pirate screamed in agony before losing consciousness, blood pouring from his skull. Tolas slowly approached his two sailors, observing the unconscious body in front of him.

"He could have caught us by surprise; nice reflex!" Tolas congratulated them.

Raphaëlle also approached with a somewhat mischievous smile, shining her flashlight on the technician's victim to see his condition.

"First the keyboard, now the chair... everything becomes a weapon with you!" she exclaimed, laughing.

Skepta dropped the remaining pieces of wood he held, breathing heavily.

"I... I don't know if he was the last one, I-I think I got lucky," he acknowledged, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Cornell approached the pirate's body and knelt down in front of him to check that he was unconscious. He then looked up at Skepta.

"I might just stop muckin’ aroun’ with ya, kid…”

The remark made the technician smile, puffing out his chest slightly under the amused gazes of Raphaëlle and Tolas. The boatswain searched the pirate but found nothing particularly useful on him. He then returned to the center of the room, looking pensive.

"Given the number of pirates we saw approaching, I think he might have been the last of them. Worst case scenario, they’re still one pirate missing. I think we'd better get out of here and find an easily defensible place to wait out the night. We will discuss and assess what we’re going to do then.” Tolas concluded confidently.

The crew of the Altaïr looked at each other and all nodded in agreement with their boatswain's plan.

But just as everyone was preparing to leave, Raphaëlle heard the sound of more debris cascading just behind her. Quick as lightning, she turned her head to see a shapeless mass leaping from the stairs straight towards them. The girl's almost animal instinct took over, and, dropping the flashlight, she jumped straight onto Cornell, knocking him to the ground. The next moment, a terrible gunshot pierced their eardrums, and Skepta began to scream in pain as he fell backwards.

Tolas took a few seconds to react and then rushed towards the technician, who had been shot in the leg and was slowly bleeding out, while Raphaëlle was already getting up, ready to pounce on their assailant. But the latter, who had heavily fallen directly on top of his unconscious companion on the ground, had now also risen and was now holding her at gunpoint, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Nobody moves!" Monigam shouted confidently. "Y’all put your weapons on the ground unless you want more iron in your diet."

Raphaëlle froze, staring at the pirate without moving a single muscle. Tolas, behind her, was kneeling near Skepta, who continued to scream as he held his leg with all his might. He could feel his condition deteriorating rapidly, the technician looking like he was on the verge of passing out.

The wolf did her best to keep her attention on the pirate, but her eyes kept darting between him and the blood that had accumulated on the ground around the technician's leg. Tolas was waiting for one thing only: to be allowed to take care of his sailor in peace, and a horrible sensation gnawed at his stomach, like a hot steel ball slowly dropping down.

"I'm quite the haggler, I'll let you save your man for the low price of giving me that little tramp over..." Monigam began before being interrupted by the sound of the town hall door opening.

All the members of the Altaïr turned their heads simultaneously toward the newcomer, while Monigam, himself, kept his attention on them. He suspected who had opened the door behind him.

"What the hell?” Dande asked, furrowing his brows while analyzing the whole situation.