When dawn broke, the city smoldered among its ruins. The population had surrendered to the Spanish banner, which now waved proudly and invincibly in the town square. Admiral Don Gonzalo de Vera y Montenegro ordered a tent to be set up on the beach, from where he issued the day's commands, assisted by his aide Luis Carlos de Ayala y Guzmán, who diligently carried out all his superior's orders. The Spanish ships were anchored in the bay, loaded with everything they could loot.
The admiral was sipping chocolate from a porcelain cup, served by his assistant, when Captain Sebastián, "El Carioca," arrived, bringing Hawk in shackles.
"Good morning, Captain Sebastián," said the admiral. "I see you've brought us something."
"As agreed," the pirate replied. "We've fulfilled our part of the deal."
The Spaniard signaled to his aide, who handed the pirate a felt pouch. El Carioca took it, opened it, nodded in approval, and tossed it to one of his men.
"That's the agreed payment," said El Carioca. "I believe there's still one matter pending."
The admiral smiled.
"Of course, we haven't forgotten," he said.
He pulled a leather folder from a case and handed it to Luis Carlos, who passed it on to the captain. El Carioca opened it and found inside a letter of marque signed by the King of Spain.
"I believe this settles our deal," the pirate said with a mock bow.
The admiral stood and replied with a cold nod.
"There's just one thing I'll ask of you, Captain."
"Certainly, Your Excellency. I'm all ears," El Carioca replied.
"Stay away from the fleet."
El Carioca smiled, removed his tricorne hat with an exaggerated gesture, and turned to head back to his ship, El Infame, docked at the pier.
Once the pirate had departed, the admiral's gaze shifted to the prisoner.
"Well, well… who do we have here? The famous Hawk?" he said, looking down at the man kneeling before him.
"Gustavo Hawk, governor and representative of His Majesty the King of England in this domain," the corsair replied.
"Right, my apologies. I forgot that His Majesty appointed a vulgar pirate and criminal as governor."
"Privateer, Your Excellency… When a pirate enters the service of the Crown, we're called that. Much like El Carioca, who, from what I saw, now serves the King of Spain — despite having looted Spanish ships and settlements."
"I'm not here to debate the will of His Majesty..."
"Then what is the purpose of this shameful and illegal assault on a domain of His Britannic Majesty without a prior declaration of war?"
"Shall I remind you that this so-called 'British domain' was seized by your king in much the same way? Let's not speak of shame and lack of honor, pirate."
"Governor, sir," Hawk corrected.
"I'll address you however I please. You're nothing but a thief and a criminal — not to mention a heretic," the admiral said with disdain.
"As you wish, Your Excellency. Would you care to explain the motive behind this... assault?"
The admiral rose from his chair and walked toward Hawk, standing before him with his hands behind his back.
"The navigation charts you stole from the galleon San Benicio more than thirty years ago," he said.
Hawk pressed his lips and swallowed discreetly.
"We're also looking for a man named Virgilio Coppieter," the admiral added.
The former corsair smirked.
"First of all, I have no such charts," Hawk replied. "And I know no one by that name."
"Virgilio lived on this island for over fifteen years. He was a writer. Published in the Netherlands."
"These are my territories, governed in the name of the King. I'd know."
"Our intelligence says otherwise," the Spaniard replied. "A parcel was sent from Amsterdam addressed to someone named Virgilio Coppieter."
"Your 'intelligence' hardly lives up to the name," Hawk mocked. "Perhaps someone from your own ranks got there first, if such a man ever lived in Tiburon Bay."
The Spaniard pursed his lips, visibly annoyed.
"The navigation charts… Where are they?" he demanded.
Hawk shrugged.
"If they ever existed, they should be in my study."
The aide cleared his throat to get the admiral's attention.
"We searched the prisoner's quarters, questioned the staff about possible hiding places, and found nothing."
The admiral looked at Hawk, who watched him with a mocking expression and shrugged again.
"Your assault was completely useless… Let's see what your king tells mine to justify it," Hawk said mockingly.
"My king has enough gold and silver to compensate yours... In the meantime, you're in our hands, and you've a debt to settle," the admiral declared.
"So does El Carioca — who, like me, is a heretic and enemy of Spain, yet now serves your king, who granted him a letter of marque, as I saw. Have you already forgotten the crimes and church desecrations he committed during the raids on Maracaibo, Panama, Cartagena… not to mention his repeated harassment of the fleet?"
The admiral stared at him gravely, while Hawk returned the look with a smile, knowing his words had struck a nerve.
Finally, he ordered the prisoner to be taken away.
"Shall we send him to La Havana?" asked one of the sergeants.
The admiral returned to his seat, resumed drinking his chocolate, wiped his mouth with a lace napkin, and placed it on the table.
"No," he answered. "Execute him publicly in the town square."