Black Sails

Sir, she's still closing. We simply cannot outrun her.

We must surrender while we still can.

Gun crews...at the ready!

Gun crews at the ready!

- What are you doing? - Sorry.

Why aren't you on deck with the crew?

I think the better question is why aren't they all down here with us?

You could get killed up there.

- Oh, so you're a coward, then? - Yeah. You, too?

I'm no coward. I'm a cook.

I've no quarters to man.

What do you think the captain would do

if he found out you've abandoned yours?

Well, if he's dead and I'm alive,

I like my chances.

- Fire! - Starboard side!

They shot the muskets!

Bear up, damn it!

- You're short! - Bear up!

Sir, they are out of our range.

All crews, fire your...

Get down!

You know who that is out there?

That ship flies the banner of Captain Flint.

Isn't this your problem, too?

Good cooks are in short supply, even for criminals.

But you, cowering below decks, dodging a fight?

They'll gut you for sport.

Give me that.

- What is that? - That's nothing.

That doesn't seem like nothing.

Well, maybe when Captain Flint gets here,

we can let him decide.

You wouldn't want to do that.

No? Why not?

- Oh. - (Shouts)

- (Gunshots) - (Grunting)

Fall back!

Fall back!

- Get up! - Go!

Get out of the way.

Close us in.

Sir, wait. Mr. Fisher.

Muskets at the ready.

- (Clattering) Let me in, sir.

- Please, let me inside. - Move away from that door!

- Sir, there may still be time. - Move away from the door!

If we do not surrender now, Flint will kill us all.

Please let me in!

Please, sir, open the door.

Open...

- (Roars) - (Screams)

It's over... Argh!

It's done.

Wouldn't you agree?

Can't sell that. Leave it here.

No.

Shit.

- Grow up. - (Laughs)

What the fuck is this?

Well, it's blocked, Mr. Gates.

Hello.

He couldn't handle the thought of what you might do to him.

I, on the other hand,

would very much like to join your crew.

My name is John Silver.

And I happen to be a very good cook.

Know this...

Now that the fight is over,

you have nothing more to fear from us today.

Because we know this fight was not of your making.

It was the choice of our true enemy.

Your true enemy.

The tyrant captain.

Many of us once sailed on ships like this one.

We know what it is to be slaves to his whim,

his violence,

- his shit wages... - (Pirates laugh)

his insufferable stupidity.

So we've made for ourselves a different life

where we don't rely on wages,

we own a stake,

and where our pleasure isn't a sin.

It's a virtue.

We also know what it's like to see our brothers die

in the service of no end other than a tyrant's pride.

This one wants to join. Says he can cook.

Well, if he keeps that up, this one won't be the only one looking to join.

- Today is a new day. - Look at him.

Thinks he's captain already.

Today their crimes have been exposed.

And they will be punished.

We made a full sweep of the hold

and we found eight more casks of whale oil.

That's all?

Total tally 400.

500, if we manage to sell the tobacco.

Cameron's broken his arm. Duffy's been shot in the leg.

After injury payments, we will net just under $8 per man.

$8?

The crew will not be happy.

When are they ever?

When their end is a hell of a lot richer than $8.

Here, take a look.

Captain's log. It's all there.

Vazquez, Port Royal.

Told you this was the ship.

Where is the schedule?

Minor obstacle.

But we're getting close.

Let me see if I have this right.

This is the fourth prize in a row

from which the profits will barely exceed

the expenses it took to win it.

Singleton's out there trying to convince your crew

to torture that poor bastard of a captain

simply 'cause he hasn't worked out how to get them to do it to you.

But all is well because you've discovered

that the information we can't tell anybody we're looking for

exists on a page... that we don't have.

Don't have yet.

Mr. Duffy is dead.

I removed the leg, but he lost too much blood.

Cut his cock!

- Ooh! Yeah! - (Cheering)

Is this necessary?

We paid a heavy toll today. And for what?

We all know the prize won't come close to evening the scales.

Someone ought to pay the difference.

Talk to me about recruits.

- What's he doing? - Just give him a minute.

Where's the schedule?

What are you talking about?

The page that was torn from your log.

If you know where it is, now would be the time to say so.

Five? You want to bring on five more men?

A carpenter, two carpenter's mates,

a gunner's mate and the cook.

Hard to refuse a skilled hand.

Is it their hands you want?

Or their votes?

What a cunning bastard you are.

Squarely in the captain's pocket,

yet you still got the crew believing you're their advocate.

Shrewdest quartermaster I've ever come across.

I wonder if you'll afford me the same wide berth

you give that bastard once I take his place.

You get the cook. That's all the ship can afford right now.

I told you, I don't have it.

- One of my men must have taken it. - Everyone was searched.

Damn it, if I knew more, I'd tell you.

Now call off your men.

- Get off it. Get back. - (Laughing)

Pshaw. You can't, can you?

You're their captain, but you have no control over them.

How long before you're the one they tie to the mast?

I won't give you the satisfaction of crying out.

Good for you.

Where are you going?

Justice is about to be done,

and you turn your back.

Sail!

Man-o'-war.

Royal Navy.

The Scarborough.

Scarborough ports in Boston.

Not today she doesn't.

She's got the wind of us.

Cut us loose. Get us under way.

- (Purring) - My Boots.

Randall.

We've taken on a new cook.

Randall, we were clear this job was only temporary.

There's still plenty for you to do.

He'll be all right.

So both watches mess together at six bells. Don't be late.