Pirate Captain Charles Vane Novels & Stories

Kashira starts to speak again as he shuts the sliding door of the van, "It's a viable story since Christian entrusted Charles with finding a suitable substitute." He faces us, "Now, you can't drop your woman off looking so upset. We've made it this far thanks to you. It's too late to regret it now." Charles resists the urge to glare at him, giving in to a deep sigh as he unhinges his rigid posture to look at me with weary eyes. If worry could kill, he'd be long dead before I ever got the chance to meet him. Charles says nothing in regards to any of us and begins to walk around the rear of the van while passingly regarding me, "Let's go."

Franklin’s POV The rival captain was not a small man. He filled the doorway in the practical sense, broad through the shoulders, still in his match kit, and his expression was the particular expression of someone who has seen something they intend to get an explanation for and are not going to be redirected from that intention. Rydan and I both stood. The captain looked between us. Then he said, “Sit down.” It was the kind of voice that expected to be listened to. We sat.

Charles backs into the foyer to accommodate us, and I ask him, "Can we talk alone?" Charle's eyes shift to Vanda before returning to me. "Yes—we can." "I'll find Elizabeth," Vanda tells me, and then he's gone again, leaving Charles and I alone in the foyer. My tight shoulders loosen. "I—I need to know if he's okay," I say to Charle. "He really killed all forty of Walter's men?" "He did." "Why?" "Because Walter is his next target," Charles says simply. "So this is about the Elders' Blood title?"

"And the mission. Solas called them pirates, Ashren. But the reports Kaelen gave us... they don't add up. Pirates raid trade ships for gold. These 'rebels' are stealing medical supplies and grain." "Maybe they are hungry pirates," Ashren said, scanning the horizon. Ahead of us, the islands rose from the sea like jagged fangs of black rock, choked with dense green jungle. It was a defensive nightmare. Narrow channels, hidden coves, and high cliffs. "General," a sharp voice barked behind us. We turned. Captain Vane, the commander of the Western detachment assigned to us, stood there. He was a man of hard angles and sunburned skin, loyal to Solas to a fault. He looked at us with open disdain.

I lunged, my speed blurring the air as I closed the distance, but they threw a concussive grenade that sent me sprawling. That was when Vane emerged from the shadows. He had followed us off the ship, his frustration with my leadership boiling over, and he had been watching from the rafters. He saw the Vanguard moving to flank me, and without a word, he dropped from the ceiling, a hurricane of claws and rage. He shifted in mid-air. "Vane, no!" I screamed. He was too exposed. One was already raising a rifle to Vane's head at point-blank range. Vane didn't see him; he was buried in the carnage of the first wave.

The fishermen on the boat were sailing back to the shore but the dark clouds covered the bright sky. The sea waves almost covered their boats but they sailed fast and ran away with their drums. "What's happening? I just arrived and all these misfortunes are going on?" Charles questioned himself. He was left alone by the shore and decided to leave as well. Charles ended up with nothing as he went home empty-handed. Meanwhile, someone was quietly watching him with a smirk on the person's face.

Esther replied happily. “Domo Arigato, Esther-chan.” Charles said with a smile, surprising Esther. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your work, honey. The sun is up. I’ll make my way to meet the team.” “See you later, love.” Esther and Charles shared a kiss before Charles drove off in his Porsche to meet the Phoenix Mafia. During his drive to Eric’s showroom, Charles had a few thoughts in his mind, in particular, Bowen’s unnamed boss and more importantly, the puppet master assembling all of Derek’s enemies into a potentially dangerous alliance.

Charles listened attentively, his shrewd gaze never wavering as Nathan presented the details. "You know, Nathan," Charles began, his voice carrying a tone of calculated interest, "I've already instructed Victor to be prepared to assist Viaan in navigating these troubled waters." Nathan's eyebrows furrowed in surprise. "Viaan? Why would you extend a helping hand to him? Isn't he a rival?"

Sandra: Oh! You're a marine! That's so manly. But isn't it dangerous? Victor: Not really. It’s more paperwork than anything else. We’re on the sea most of the time, avoiding enemy waters, so it’s pretty chill. Sandra: That made you ten times more attractive to me. It’s funny, but I feel like you hold an important position, too. Victor: Yeah. I’m the captain. Sandra: That makes so much sense. You looked like you were the boss of something in your pictures. Are you a good captain, though? Take good care of your men?

“Sir, from the reports we have, she’s going to be of no use to you. Her father didn’t say such great things about her and from her actions at the auction, she’s going to be trouble.” “So what do you think?” He swallowed hard. “I think we should send her away.” Another word for kill her. Not happening. At least, not yet. “I need a release before I make any decision, Harren. Do you understand that?” His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. He nodded. “Yes sir.” The moment he left, I scoffed. I am Charles Wade— not because it is my real name but because Charles Wade is the only man in history who has gotten away with all forms of vile things.