Chapter 1197 - Prisoners

Zhou Weisen had never studied Spanish, but his years dealing with Mexicans back in the States had left him with enough everyday phrases to get by—otherwise seducing Mendoza would have proven far more difficult. When he heard the word rendición, he recognized it at once: surrender.

He immediately signaled the assault team to hold their second tear gas canister. Turning to Ah San the translator, he barked: "Tell them to raise their hands above their heads and come out one by one!"

Ah San rattled off the command in Spanish, then repeated it. Soon the first Spaniard stumbled out of the pepper smoke, sneezing violently and streaming tears, though he'd remembered to keep his hands raised. His broadcloth coat and layers of starched ruffs marked him as a man of standing. The empty scabbard at his thigh confirmed it—only nobles or gentlemen of good family were permitted to wear swords.

Blinded and choking, the man saw nothing before assault team members seized him and bound his wrists. With Ah San bellowing "Kneel!" each successive captive was forced to his knees on the deck, lined up like a string of trussed crabs.

One man tried to stand and speak, but Zhou Weisen had neither time nor patience for speeches. A single gesture and Ah San—as if drugged with stimulants—laid into the unfortunate Spaniard with his stick until the man collapsed motionless on the deck.

Zhou Weisen counted: ten prisoners kneeling before him, including two young page boys. From their dress and bearing, they were clearly the ship's officers and important figures, along with their servants.

After those ten, no more sounds came from inside. Zhou Weisen mounted a tactical flashlight on his SW 629, then led the way through the cabin door, followed by assault team members in masks and goggles.

Inside, there was no need for tactical formations—the cabin was in shambles. Furniture and various items lay scattered everywhere alongside swords, sabers, and matchlock muskets, as if the occupants had prepared for a last stand. But now the room stood completely deserted.

"Secure the entrance to the gun deck!" Zhou Weisen shouted. This passage connected the hold to the sterncastle—if the Spaniards wanted to counterattack, it would be their quickest route. "Begin the search!"

The sterncastle had two entrances. One led to the upper deck—the one they'd just breached—from which one could either reach the main deck or climb the stairs on either side to the poop deck where the helmsman steered and the captain commanded. The other entrance was on the upper level of the sterncastle, leading to the gun deck. This was normally kept locked to prevent mutinous sailors from launching a surprise attack on the sterncastle from below. In the event of a boarding action, the sterncastle also served as a defensive strongpoint.

The assault team quickly cleared the senior officers' cabins on the first level and advanced to the second. The second level contained three compartments: an outer room the captain used for shipboard administration, a middle section serving as the senior officers' dining room, and the innermost part divided into port and starboard cabins—one for the shipowner, one for the captain. When no shipowner was aboard, his cabin was typically used for distinguished passengers.

"Clear!" "Clear!" "Clear!" Confirmations echoed from all directions.

"Continue the search!" Zhou Weisen ordered. The sterncastle often held the most valuable property aboard: personal cargo and valuables belonging to the captain and distinguished passengers. On vessels plying regular routes between colonies, everyone seized the opportunity for a little smuggling, and the captain of the San Luis would be no exception. This area alone might yield a tidy profit.

"Sir!" a team member suddenly called out. "There's a woman aboard!"

The word woman sent a jolt through Zhou Weisen. In this era, aside from slaves, women rarely undertook ocean voyages. Some captains might bring wives or daughters along, but these were rare exceptions. However, since this was a royal vessel running between New Spain and the Philippines, it might well be carrying the family members of important officials.

Spanish women—fiery, passionate Latinas. Though Zhou Weisen already had a big foreign mare he was tired of riding, capturing a single Spanish woman would earn him far more merit points in the Senate than catching a whole ship full of Spanish men.

"Where?" he asked urgently.

"In the shipowner's cabin. She won't come out, and we can't understand what she's saying..."

"If she won't come out, drag her out!" Zhou Weisen said coldly. "Take her alive!"

Several minutes later, two team members dragged a woman before him. Zhou Weisen's excitement deflated at once: she was indeed a big foreign mare, but clearly well past her prime. Heavy black skirts wrapped her from head to toe—widow's attire, he knew enough about European fashion to recognize. A closer look at her face confirmed it: she had to be at least fifty.

Seeing that this was an expired foreign mare, Zhou Weisen lost all interest. With a wave of his hand he had the team members take her away and stepped out of the sterncastle himself.

By then, the naval marine assault team had reported: the entrances to the middle and lower decks had been secured, and Ah San was calling for surrender, but there was no response from below.

"Keep calling!" Zhou Weisen had just spoken when gunfire suddenly erupted on deck, white smoke billowing everywhere. The Spaniards below had fired a volley of matchlocks from the hatchway, then violently shoved open the wooden grating and swarmed up in a mass breakout attempt.

Their attempt was crushed immediately. The waiting marines unleashed fierce return fire. The seven or eight men who'd climbed out of the hatch barely got their upper bodies through before dense grapeshot shattered their skulls, killing them on the spot.

It seemed non-conventional measures would be necessary. Zhou Weisen didn't like using poison gas, and besides, several hundred sailors and soldiers would make decent laborers for the mines.

He picked up his walkie-talkie and called Lin Chuanqing. "Old Lin, prepare the 'disinfectant'!"

"Acknowledged!"

As he spoke, more team members emerged from the sterncastle half-dragging, half-supporting two more women. Zhou Weisen stared in amazement—what was going on with this ship? So many women!

"What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Sir! Found them in the lower cabin, hiding among the luggage."

Zhou Weisen looked them over. These two were young, but their faces showed the yellowish-white features of mixed blood—criollos, probably—mixed-race descendants of Spanish conquistadors and indigenous women. From their clothing, they didn't appear to be women of status—likely maids or the like.

As he thought this, a strange fragrance suddenly wafted to his nostrils—the scent of perfume.

Zhou Weisen froze. Connecting this to the "crow" from earlier, he felt a surge of excitement. He gave several instructions to the marine assault team captain, then headed back into the sterncastle with several men.

I've been too slow—I should have realized! he thought. That widow was obviously a dueña! Spanish high society always hired elderly widows to serve as companions and chaperones for young ladies and wives. Why else would a plainly dressed widow be crossing the ocean in the shipowner's cabin? And those two maids, the perfume on them—it all pointed to the same conclusion.

The shipowner's cabin in the sterncastle must have housed a young, high-born foreign mare! She must be hiding somewhere!

"Begin searching again!" Zhou Weisen ordered. "Go through every cabin carefully! Report any suspicious findings immediately!"

Before long, a young woman was brought before him. She wore a magnificent gown of some silky material he'd never seen before, embroidered with gold thread and elaborate patterns. In her hands she clutched a folding fan. From her appearance, she was clearly a woman of high society—probably the family member of a high Spanish official or nobleman in New Spain or the Philippine colonies.

Zhou Weisen estimated her age at around twenty. She had a petite figure with brown hair arranged in small ringlets cascading from her temples. Her frightened brown eyes stared at the strangely-dressed man before her. The scent that reached his nostrils was the same perfume from the maids, only stronger and more exotic.

"Take her away." Zhou Weisen had no time to deal with her now—more pressing matters awaited.

"Who's the captain? Bring him here."

Team members pushed forward a Spaniard with a large bump swelling on his head—courtesy of Ah San's merciless beating.

"How many people are still below?" Zhou Weisen demanded without preamble.

The captain had originally intended to maintain his composure and deliver a few dignified words befitting his noble birth, but Ah San's earlier beating had left him dazed and disoriented. Facing these strange pirates with their bizarre ship, he decided honesty was the best policy.

"When we departed Acapulco, we had 412 people. At the last roll call three days ago, there were still 375."

"How many soldiers are aboard?"

"We embarked a company at New Spain—90 men. How many remain, I don't know."

"Why didn't you surrender just now? You'd already raised the white flag." Zhou Weisen's voice turned menacing. "Do you know the consequences of false surrender? I'll have every one of you hanged from the mast!"

"Please, do not insult my honor!" Though his hands were bound, the captain maintained his noble bearing. "I gave the order to surrender, but Lieutenant Alvarado refused to comply..."

"Who's Alvarado?"

"The company commander. A restless young gentleman of good family." The captain still looked shaken. "He even tried to seize the sterncastle—it was terrifying!"

(End of Chapter)