pappabearbooks Chapter 56 The Real Thief
Chapter 56 The Real Thief
They carried no firearms that would make a loud noise; instead, they wore short crossbows and daggers at their waists and empty waterproof tarpaulin bags on their backs.
In this smoky environment, a silent weapon is far more effective than a volley of gunfire.
"Two men stand guard, the rest of you follow me." Seamus's voice was very low, almost completely drowned out by the noise of the fire.
He determined the direction and headed straight for the deepest part of the warehouse, the corner where the fire had not yet spread.
Their actions contrasted sharply with the chaotic scene outside, where the guards were running around like mad.
Over here, the guards are shouting loudly and fighting the flames with buckets and wet cloths.
Over there, Seamus's men moved along the wall like shadows, their footsteps so light they were barely audible, each movement extremely concise.
They quickly found their target.
A dozen or so large crates, tightly wrapped in tarpaulin, were printed with the insignia representing the Royal Army.
The two men immediately raised their crossbows, one aiming at the direction from which they had come, and the other at the chaotic area in the center of the warehouse, to keep watch for their companion.
Seamus and the rest of the men took out crowbars, but did not act immediately. One of them took out a thick, oil-soaked leather pad from his pocket and carefully stuffed it into the gap of the crate. The other then inserted the flat end of the crowbar into the gap, using the leather pad as a cushion to hold the plank in place.
The remaining people then slowly exerted their strength, producing a few soft tearing sounds muffled by the leather cushions. These sounds were almost inaudible amidst the crackling of the flames and the shouts of the people in the distance.
Soon, the lid of the first box was pried open.
Inside, brand-new "Brown Bess" smoothbore muskets were neatly stacked, their fine wood grain on the stock and their gleaming metal parts gleaming subtly in the distant firelight.
Seamus didn't waste a moment.
"Move." That one word was the entire command.
The four men immediately got to work. Two quickly handed over the smoothbore muskets, while the other two carefully placed them into the waterproof oilcloth bags they had brought. Their movements were so practiced that it was as if they had rehearsed them hundreds of times.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the warehouse, arsonist Captain Marcus was dragged out by guards from under a pile of charred goods.
He was completely black, his pants were soaked, and he was incoherently pleading, "It wasn't me... it was Jenny! It was 'Son of Liberty'! I don't know anything!"
Andrew Gage lifted his chin with the end of his riding crop with disgust and asked lazily.
"Marcus, someone has shown me your ledgers."
Marcus's face instantly changed, and he completely lost his strength, letting the guards drag him out like a dead dog.
Meanwhile, in a corner of the warehouse, Seamus's work was nearing its end.
One by one, the crates were emptied, and the smoothbore muskets were neatly moved.
When they pried open the last, heaviest box, what they found inside made everyone pause for a moment.
There were no guns.
The box was filled with gold coins and silverware neatly wrapped in velvet bags, as well as several pieces of jewelry that looked quite valuable.
This is all the assets Marcus has prepared for his escape.
One of his men looked at Seamus, his eyes asking a question.
Seamus did not hesitate at all.
He made a simple gesture.
Take it.
This windfall was quickly divided up and stuffed deep into everyone's oilcloth bags.
Then, Seamus directed his men to fill the empty crates with several ballast stones, carefully close the lids, and even hammer the nails back into place after covering them with thick leather pads.
From the outside, these boxes look no different from before; they are still just as heavy and intact.
The entire process, from start to finish, takes no more than ten minutes.
When the last flame was extinguished, leaving only the acrid smell of smoke and a mess in the warehouse, Seamus and his men had already retreated back into the sewer with their spoils.
The iron fence was quietly closed, as if no one had ever been there.
Andrew Gage finally had the time to examine his achievements.
He stepped over the shell casings and bloodstains scattered on the ground, carefully avoiding any spot on his expensive leather boots that might soil them.
The gang leader, "Strong Hand" Jenny, had his leg broken and was tied up like a dead pig.
The corrupt Imperial officer, Captain Marcus, lay sprawled on the ground like a lump of mud.
Meanwhile, the survivors of the "Sons of Liberty," including Samuel, whose mind had completely collapsed, were being "protected" by his guards and awaited questioning as "loyal citizens who had acted bravely."
Lieutenant Hank limped over and reported the casualties to him, his words filled with respect for Andrew.
Everything was perfect.
Andrew was very satisfied.
He waved his hand, signaling the captain of the guard to handle the follow-up matters.
"Take all this junk back to the Governor's residence. As for this batch of weapons..."
He gestured with his chin towards the pile of "intact" crates in the corner of the warehouse.
"Send two teams of men to guard this place. Not a single fly is allowed to get in before dawn. This is His Majesty the King's property; there can be no mishaps."
"Yes, sir!"
The captain of the guard immediately assigned twenty of his most elite soldiers to surround the dozen or so boxes, with their guns pointed outwards, creating a solemn atmosphere.
Andrew took one last look at the scene and yawned.
Tonight's unexpected gains are enough for him to earn a substantial credit in front of the governor.
He turned and walked out of the warehouse without looking back.
The sea breeze dispersed the smell of smoke in the warehouse, but it couldn't dispel the smugness in his heart.
Behind him, twenty loyal governor's guards were risking their lives to protect a heavy pile of stones.
……
In the study of Oak Bay Estate, candlelight flickered, illuminating the huge nautical chart on the wall.
Li Wei sat upright behind his desk, not looking at the lines depicting the unknown and wealth.
He seemed to blend into the shadow of the chair, with only his hands in the light.
Li Wei tapped his knuckles rhythmically on the table as usual, neither too fast nor too slow. This was a habit he had developed in his previous life, ensuring that his rhythm always matched the actual number of seconds.
The sound echoed in the silent room, like a clock counting down for something new or dying.
It was already 3 a.m., but Li Wei was still not resting; he was waiting.
What awaits him when he casts his net—fish or a pile of torn, tattered rope?
The door was pushed open silently, and a smell mixed with the salty odor of the harbor, rainwater, and the unique stench of the sewers wafted in.
Seamus stood in the doorway, his tall frame almost blocking the entire doorway. Water was still dripping from his thick canvas, leaving dark dots on the expensive Persian carpet.
He didn't approach; he simply stood at the doorway, as was his custom.
"gentlemen."
Li Wei's tapping stopped.
He looked up, his calm gaze landing on Seamus. "Come in."
Seamus untied a money bag tightly wrapped in oilcloth from under the canvas and placed it on the floor by the door. The money bag made a dull metallic clang when it hit the ground.
Then, he took out another piece of paper wrapped in oilcloth from his pocket and handed it over with both hands.
"Here's your order. Seventy-two 'Brownbes' smoothbore muskets, fully equipped with ammunition. Also, this is an unexpected bonus. Captain Marcus has the money he needs to buy his own life."
Li Wei didn't immediately look at the list, nor did he pay attention to the bag of gold coins.
He asked the first question, which was also the only question he was concerned about at that moment, so much so that it stunned Seamus.