Black Sails (2014–2017): Season 1, Episode 8 - VIII. - full transcript

There is a place
not far from here

where you could be
feared and respected.

Eight men who support Hamund.
You said it yourself.

We kill him,
they all become threats to both of us.

They disappear
all at once tonight.

Between you and Flint, I'm not certain
who I should be more afraid of.

- Leave with me.
- I've spent my life trying to build something here.

What if I forgo payment
for the schedule

in exchange for my share
of the prize?

When the time comes for me
to reveal the last piece,

I will be right
by your side.



It wasn't Singleton
that stole the page.

- It was him.
- You're lying to them.

If no one knows,
everyone wins.

I believe in this place.
If there's anyone who can do

what's necessary to make it
something better, it's you.

Once we have the money,
Flint dies.

- No argument.
- Not from me.

Ca va?

Mr. Rackham,
a word.

Sit.

Won't you tell me what you
think of our little production?

The theme is
"Evenings in Paris."

I'll give you three
guesses whose idea it was.

Mr. Rackham,
I just saw the bursar.



He says I'm no longer
to receive my distribution

of the house's profits.
Your instruction?

Yes, I did some rough
calculations to figure the amount

you've been skimming from the take
since we first began this arrangement.

It only seems fair to garnish
your proceeds to account for it.

Mr. Rackham, I understand
your new friend

has helped to bring
the girls into line,

has them reporting their income
in a most honest fashion.

That must be
very nice for you.

But let us get something
very straight.

I'm not
one of the girls.

I will have my cut

or everyone in this street will
know what became of Mr. Noonan.

- You would do that?
- Don't you dare doubt it.

Well, Mrs. Mapleton,
that sounds like gross insubordination to me.

That, coupled with the graft
you've been responsible for,

leaves me with no choice but to
terminate your employment here.

- What?
- You're dismissed.

Thank you
for your service.

Pardon me, but have you
lost your mind?

Not that
I'm aware of, no.

I just told you
that I am fully willing

to inform every
merchant in Nassau

that you murdered your way
into ownership of this place.

They will band together
to see you hanged.

Which ones exactly?

Which merchants will see
Mr. Rackham hanged?

Mr. Connors
the wheelwright?

Or perhaps Mr. Peterson
the butcher.

Maybe Mr. Rusch
the lapidary?

They all have enjoyed steep
discounts here lately.

Affordable now that the
books are in good order.

I wonder,
given their fondness for the new management,

which one of them would much care what
you think happened to Mr. Noonan?

You forgot the only name
that matters, dear.

The lady across the street.
She finds out about this...

Oh, Madam Guthrie knows.
She's fine with it.

But by all means, go ahead, tell her again.
I can't see any harm in it.

You will regret
this, sir.

I'm sure I won't.
Au revoir.

Please don't judge me,
but I really enjoyed that.

You do not believe she will
attempt to strike back at you?

I wouldn't
put it past her.

But at the moment I'll live with
the potential for future trouble

over the certainty of actual
trouble she was causing.

To a profitable
venture.

And a partner significantly
more pleasing to the eye.

What am I supposed
to do with this?

If he's to continue on the ship,
the crutch is too much of an impediment.

He shall have to wear this
whether he likes it or not.

Come on, Randall.

Dr. Howell made this
'specially for you.

Help you
move around better.

Perhaps you'll even be able to visit the
shitter once in a while without needing my help.

Whoa, easy there.

You're responsible
for him.

You figure it out.

"Oh, Mr. Silver.

How can I ever thank you?

First you save me from ending up as
a stain on the Walrus's underside.

Then you secured
my position on the crew

on the verge
of an historic haul.

And if that
weren't enough,

you're still trying to
find something comfortable

to put at the end
of my stump.

From the bottom
of my heart, thank you."

You're welcome.

Launch from the Ranger.

Captain Gates
is coming over.

Crazy bastard.

What could be
so fucking important

that he has to row through
all that shit out there?

We make landfall
in the morning.

The last part of the
schedule if you don't mind.

What's that?

My own reconnaissance.

There are a dozen bays and inlets
within a day's journey from here

that will make reasonable locations
for the Urca to take on water.

If the course you write
down leads to one of them,

odds are that your
information is accurate.

And if it doesn't?

Division Bay.

The course leads
to Division Bay.

Shoals on
the eastern shore,

but if we approach
from the windward,

we should be able to take up
a strong opening position.

Take this
to Mr. De Groot.

Tell him to adjust
our course accordingly

and set up our final
approach for the morning.

Something else?

Well, now that I've fulfilled
my end of the bargain,

I'm just wondering
where you and I stand.

Keep wondering.

I best be getting back.

Let's not tempt fate.

Talbot Rhodes.
Private stock.

I've been waiting
for an occasion.

My reckoning is
tomorrow

we'll either be able to
afford a lot more of it or...

We'll be too dead
to care.

Captain asked me
to pass these to you.

A new course.

The captain accepted the last
segment of the Urca route as valid?

One thing you
should not doubt.

Certainty is not a word
I throw around lightly.

Now this information,
I am quite certain I have it right.

That man has a strange
way of handling

the prospect of imminent
wealth beyond reason.

Ma'am.

What are you
doing here?

Captain Hornigold
asked me to sit in

on Captain Lawrence's final
preparations before departure.

They're just finishing
upstairs.

Mm.

I'm fine.

Believe it or not,
this place didn't collapse

the moment you walked
out the door.

You really believe my concern
is for this place?

It's a ship killer
out there.

I can't even imagine what
it's like further north.

You'd been opposed to hunting
the Urca from the beginning.

Perhaps God's on your side
of this one.

I just think of all the trouble
that fucking schedule caused.

The trouble
it caused Max and I.

Caused you and I.

The thought that it could all
end up being for nothing...

Perhaps the trouble
was going to happen anyway.

Schedule or no.

Perhaps.

Tomorrow a thing
that you conceived

out of thin air
becomes real.

A thing that will
give this place

a chance to find some
small measure of peace.

That is not nothing.

Henderson?

It wasn't Henderson.

It was something like Henderson.
Harrison? Harvey?

I don't know who the fuck
you're talking about.

The man that nicked
that bottle was called Cregg.

Cregg! That's him.
Cregg.

Mr. Cregg.
Carpenter's mate.

Had a nose
for sniffing out booze

on a prize ship
like a fucking bloodhound.

Oh, Cregg.
I remember walking in on him once

digging through a stash
on a prize.

He...

he found this bottle of
booze behind a baseboard.

Now he's convinced that the prize
captain's been hiding his best liquor.

So he pops the cork
and takes this big swig

in front of all of us.

- And it was piss.
- It was piss.

Aye, Cregg.

- Oh, God.
- Flint: Oh, Cregg.

I brought him over
with me, you know.

We served together under
Avery when we was kids.

Huh.
He was my first bunkmate.

For years he went on
how he'd got this

huge stash hidden away.

And I should live
to survive him

because one day
I will be a rich man.

As you know, we lost
him on the Pembroke.

So I open his locker
and what do I find?

12 pesos,
a busted pocket watch,

and a letter
with instructions

to deliver it
to his sister in New York.

Lying sack of shit

was Mr. Cregg.

So I bought the boys
a round with the pesos,

traded the pocket watch
for a bit of tail,

and spent two weeks
that winter in New York

trying to deliver that fucking
letter to his sister.

Looked high and low.

Never found her.

So on the way home,

I waited till we were
in open water

and I could see no land
in any direction,

and I dropped it
over the side.

Returned to the sea.

There are no legacies
in this life, are there?

No monuments.
No history.

Just the water.

It pays us

and then it claims us.

Swallows us whole.

As if we'd never
been here at all.

Well...

I better be
getting back.

How the fuck can you cut Mapleton
loose without even telling me?

I'm sorry. I wasn't aware you
were her attorney in this matter.

She'll run her mouth all over
the fucking island about Noonan.

Who cares? The only people who could
conceivably make trouble for us

are currently elbow deep
in free prostitute downstairs.

What's worse, you keep counsel
with a whore about it.

Wait, what?

You think you can
trust her, you dumb shit?

That's what this
is about? Max?

You fucked her,
didn't you?

Jesus H. Christ.
I can't win with you.

She's in the camp with the men and it's,
"Come on, Jack,

let's go kill everybody and see
if we can't get her out of there.

Hope you don't mind.
Made that decision on your behalf."

And now she's out, making us
a small fortune, by the way,

and you're pissed off
about that, too.

Might you consider making up your
fucking mind about it, please?

- Fuck you, Jack.
- "Fuck you, Jack."

Yes, I know.
Fuck me.

Listen here!

When we crest the point ahead
and spot the Urca in anchor,

we'll begin
our final run at her.

- Take it.
- The Spanish banner may earn us a few hundred yards

of confusion before the captain
identifies us and opens fire.

So we'll close fast
on her,

hammer her well
with our guns,

and then take the fight
to her decks.

That fight will be the fight
of our lives,

make no mistake.

But on the other side

lies paradise.

I'll see you there.
Mr. De Groot?

A full complement,
if you please.

Signal the Ranger.

- Aye, captain.
- Full sail, final approach.

Check our position.

- This is the course.
- Well, check it again.

Captain, this is
the location you requested.

Your true manifest.
Your false manifest.

And, most importantly,
your bribe money.

Godspeed, Captain.

Perhaps we should go over
the details one more time.

The harbormaster's
name is Singer.

The foreman's
name is Smith.

The warehouse
manager's Clay,

and the customs man
is Kent.

Now if you don't let me
board my ship

and leave this place,
none of it will matter

as the goods in my hold will be
rotten by the time I arrive.

- Goodbye.
- Godspeed.

I have to
hand it to you,

you said you'd rebuild things
here without your father,

and damned if you
didn't do just that.

Still one step
yet to accomplish.

Removing my father
entirely.

Excuse me?

I know he's out
in the Underhill estate.

If you think he isn't scheming
to undo everything

we've done here,
you're kidding yourself.

You are truly
amazing.

In a moment when stability is at
hand and the world is at your feet,

your first instinct is to go out
in search of someone new to fight.

Captain, a moment.

God.

Can't believe you left me
for that old lady.

Captain Hornigold
is right.

What the fuck?

Where did that come from?

Jesus Christ, Ben,
why are your men firing on their own ship?

My men aren't the ones
doing the firing.

We need to get you
off the beach now.

Is someone shooting
the guns off out here?

What the hell
is going on?

Someone has taken over
the fort.

Captain, after an
inventory of our stores,

the men have assented
to your plan.

Provided we find a suitable
place to land the Walrus,

you'll have two days
to send out scouts

and hopefully
locate the Urca.

Given their mood,
I'd say we were lucky to get that long.

Do it, then.

- What?
- It's Mr. De Groot.

He's put his foot down.

Once we make landfall,
he wants Flint tried immediately.

Oh, Jesus.

He's bitter about the fact that we
didn't listen to him regarding the cook.

He says there's
no Urca out here

and that justice has been
delayed long enough.

That's not gonna happen,
so let's discuss reality.

He said that
you'd say that.

And after all your talk,
you're just protecting Flint.

I'm protecting all of us.

These men are right
on the edge

and he wants to rile
them up more

by talking about a lying,
thieving captain,

then stand on a deserted beach
and talk about an election.

Before you know it, half a dozen men
will have laid claim to the captaincy.

Camps will divide.

It won't be dark yet
before the fighting starts.

We're gonna see Flint
pay for his crimes.

But we'll do it at home

and we'll do it
like civilized men.

That's how
we avoid the abyss.

We knew you spent the night
drinking together.

How can we take you
at your word?

You don't have
to take my word.

Good enough for you?

Mr. Gates...

Logan:
Sails!

To the south!

Is it the Urca?

Captain,
is it her?

Captain,
is it the Urca?

Man-of-war!
She's a man-of-war!

Spanish banners!

In less than half an hour,
she'll be right on top of us.

Get orders to the Ranger.

Tell her
to raise the black

and fire two shots
over our bow.

- Mr. De Groot.
- Captain?

Rig a spring to the forward anchor,
then drop her immediately.

Drop anchor?

You mean
to fight her?

You all
have your orders!

Captain, join me.

- We don't have time.
- Make time.

If he engages that ship
in battle, we're dead.

- I know.
- I know you know.

But does Mr. Gates?

I can't let you
go down this road.

As far that
man-of-war knows,

we're Spanish merchantmen
under attack by pirate raiders.

We order
the Ranger to flee,

the Spaniard passes us
to give chase,

and before she realizes her
error, we've got her trapped.

She's got 100 guns.

We do this properly,
she'll never get a chance to use them.

We'll rake her
stern to bow,

the Ranger will rake
her bow to stern.

With a little luck,
we'll hammer her into submission

before she can bring
her broadsides to bear.

To accomplish what,
exactly?

The Urca. She's here.
Can't you see that?

All I can see
is an empty bay,

a guardacosta warship,

and a captain that's lost
his fucking grip on reality.

Guardacosta?
You think that ship's here on patrol?

That she just happened
by this place at this time?

That ship
is an escort.

It's the only
explanation.

The Urca
has no escort.

Was that not the justification
for this entire endeavor?

They altered their plans.
Found a ship they could spare.

I'm taking the Ranger
and I'm leaving.

What did you
just say?

I'm gonna weigh anchor and
I'm gonna make a run for it.

If I can keep ahead
of it before dark,

there's just a chance
we can slip away.

Without the Ranger,
I have no chance against that ship.

I know.

So you're deliberately
challenging my authority here?

Deliberately
violating your duty?

My duty?

My duty is to them,
not to you.

Although I have
violated it more times

than I can remember
in your defense.

Helped you
deceive good men

who put their trust in me
because I was convinced

they would be
better off for it.

Well, not here.
Not this.

This is fucking madness.

Mr. Gates, if you
walk through that door

with the intent
of subverting my plans,

I will have no alternative but to
interpret that as an incitement of mutiny.

You think
I'm inciting mutiny?

- You are inciting mutiny.
- I'm managing one!

There are men
out there right now

that know
about Singleton,

the book, the cook,
all of it.

They know.
And they mean to see you hanged for it.

You told them?

After Billy, I just...

I didn't want to believe you could be
capable of doing something like that.

But I couldn't convince
myself that you weren't.

That's when I realized,
this has got to end.

So what, then?

You preside over a trial
that sees me hanged?

No.

We're going to go home

and I will see you
and Mrs. Barlow secreted away

before anybody
knows you're gone.

You're gonna go
to Boston.

You're gonna take the pardon
that she's offered you.

And that is the last that you and
I will ever see of each other.

Please.

Please, don't do this.

I'm sorry.

Take a moment.

I'll deal with them.

This is not
what I wanted.

This is not what
I wanted.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I came to lend
credence to your case

that the Urca
is still to be won.

What the fuck
are you doing to him?

- Making sure there's nothing incriminating...
- Stop. Stop.

There's no way
out of this.

Take it from me,

there's always
a way.

Sir.

- What is it?
- A small band of men were seen approaching the fort

from the west this morning.
No one's been able to identify them.

Are all the home crews
accounted for?

Aye. Every one.
They had nothing to do with this.

Naft: Could this be a first move
by England to reclaim the island?

Frasier:
Without a single ship involved?

This does not have the air of a state move.
This is something else.

Captain, how easily
are the great guns

- on the fort repositioned?
- What difference does that make?

He's asking if the fort
can turn her guns around

and bring them to bear
on the street... on us.

Let's hope whomever's up there is
not mad enough to consider that.

That's less than
confidence-inspiring.

I have lieutenants
calling in favors

from the crews of the
Colonial Dawn and the Medusa.

I'll have 250 men assembled and ready
to storm the fort in a matter of hours.

By first light tomorrow,
I'll be back in my chair

and whoever did this will be
hanging by his goddamn...

- What is it?
- Quick, you all need to see this.

Man:
Go back inside.

Miss Guthrie.

I think it's time
we talked.

Mr. Gates's heart
has given out.

He's dead?

Mr. Logan.

Signal Mr. Thompson
on the Ranger.

Inform him
he's now in command.

His orders
are to sail north.

When we fire on the target,
he's to tack hard to port and do the same.

Hoist the signals from the
foremast below the yard.

Get 'em up and down quickly
before the Spaniard sees them.

The question you need
to ask yourself

is "What good
can I do?"

You can
call this murder.

A number of the men
might even believe you,

but will that be enough

to stop this fight
that is about to happen?

Because if it's not,
a fight we might win

becomes a battle
we are doomed to lose.

Because the men went into it
infected with your suspicions,

with your doubts.

So, Mr. Quartermaster,

is that truly what's
in their best interests?

St. Augustine.

Beg pardon?

When the warship
draws close,

she'll ask our
last port of call.

St. Augustine's
the closest.

And as she's likely
a customs ship,

we must identify our cargo
as anything but tobacco.

Seville regulates
the trade heavily.

Thank you, Mr. Dufresne.

What the fuck
did you do?

Spend enough time
on an island,

begin to forget there's
a whole world out there.

A world where the rules
are different.

I went out there,
found men who don't know the rules here

and who don't much care
to learn them.

They helped me surprise
Captain Hornigold's men,

we took his fort,
and not once were any of them burdened

with the thought,
"What if this were to upset Eleanor Guthrie?"

Well, they're about
to learn the rules, Charles.

The hard way.
You think I'm gonna let this stand?

That Hornigold will?
We have men lining up

in droves to back us
in retaking it.

I'd expect nothing less.

Just out of curiosity,

how long do you think
that's gonna take?

Can you take back
that fort before...

I sink another ship
in the bay?

Three more?

All of them?

Who knows?

If my men hold out
long enough,

we may just decide
to sink the Walrus

when she returns with your
precious Spanish gold

just out of spite.

So that's what this is.

You're annoyed at me, so you're
gonna destroy everything I've built.

Never said I wanted
to destroy anything.

Then what do you want?

Hornigold
controlled the fort.

The fort controls the bay.
The bay controls commerce.

That meant
he was your partner.

Now, I control
the fort.

So I will be
your partner.

You are kidding me.

I was a tenant in this
place for a long time.

Didn't work out
so well.

Now I'd like a stake.

You've absolutely
lost your mind.

I remember
the first time I saw you.

You were about 13.

You'd snuck down
to the beach

despite Mr. Scott's
rules forbidding it.

A girl that age

looking like you did.

And you just walked up
and down between the camps

like you owned the place.

Fearless.

Then you saw me watching you
and you didn't look away.

Didn't cower.

You just gave me
this look...

this little smile...

that said you refused
to be afraid of me.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

I know you.

Better than your father,
better than Scott.

Maybe better than anyone.

You don't give a shit
about money or respect.

Or the things
you've built here.

I think you're just tired
of fathers

telling you what to do.

And so I'm offering you
a life free from them.

With me in that fort,
you do as you like.

As long as it
doesn't cross me,

you'll hear
no complaints.

You know I have no choice
but to say yes.

But before I do,
know this,

you'll sit in that fort for a while.
You'll get comfortable.

And that's the day I'm
gonna push you and your men

right into
the fucking sea.

God, I missed that look.

Ben.

What the hell
did he say?

He wants your seat on the consortium.
To be a partner to us.

Well, I have 300 men out there
more than happy to deny him.

- You can't, Ben.
- Oh, watch me.

I told him
about the tunnels.

The tunnels that you would use to
launch a surprise attack into the fort.

- I told him.
- Jesus!

You told me to keep emotion
from clouding judgment.

To act in everyone's
best interest.

I believe that's
what I'm doing.

This is not
the end of this.

Captain.
Welcome back.

I hear congratulations
are in order.

Steward of the fort.
Stroke of pure genius.

In some ways, Jack,
it had to come to this.

- Don't you think?
- Come to what?

Me deciding
if you live or die.

Captain, I don't know
what you've heard...

Hamund pulls you
out of bed...

marches you down
to the wrecks

to look for a stash
of stolen pearls.

And somehow,
only you and your dog make it back alive.

Quite a moment.

Jack Rackham
with nothing to say.

Had I a shrewd
quartermaster right now,

he would tell me that I can't
let what you did stand.

He would say an offense
like that

demanded an example
be made of both of you.

The bloodier the better.

But today,
I'm a little less worried

about perception
than I used to be.

As long as I hold
that fort,

doesn't really matter.

So the street
will know what you did.

They will know you betrayed
your brothers for a woman.

That story will spread
far and wide

and you'll never sail
beneath the black again.

You'll sit
in this place and rot

with the rest
of the whores.

Something tells me that'll
sting worse than dying.

Loyalty, Jack.

It's supposed
to mean something.

It does to me, anyway.

Oh.

Love what you've
done with the place.

Here she comes.

Cazadora.
Marco Fernandez, captain.

Cazadora.
Marco Fernandez, capitain.

St, Augustine.
Tobacco trade.

If I'm not mistaken,
you told him to name us

anything but a tobacco
trader, did you not?

I did.

He means to prove that
that ship is not guardacosta.

That it's here for
the same reason we are.

The Urca.

That ship lets us pass,

he will have managed to both
renew the men's lust for gold

and their faith
in his judgment.

Hello.

All hands
to their stations.

Quietly, if you please.

At 300 yards,
we open fire.

Time and again
he gambles with our lives.

That is, when he's not
taking them in cold blood.

And once more
his influence grows.

And we're at his mercy
with no way to challenge him.

No, sir.

It only looks that way.

Turn us around
slowly, boys.

They need to think
we're just drifting.

Range?

Hundred yards,
Captain.

- Open.
- Crewman: Open.

- Come right a few degrees.
- Aye, Captain.

We only get one shot at this.
We miss, we die.

- Clear, tack hull.
- Range?

Approaching
200 yards, Captain.

All crews,
fire on my mark.

Steady.

Almost there.

Captain Flint.

As quartermaster,
I hereby accuse you

of tyrannical crimes
against your crew.

All crews, fire!

Dufresne:
Belay that order!

Your duties as a member of
this crew have reached an end.

Take a seat.

Beginning with the murders
of Mr. Singleton,

Billy Bones,
and Mr. Gates.

What exactly do you hope
to accomplish by doing this?

In your case,
Mr. Silver, justice.

Once Dufresne exposes Flint's
lies in their totality,

the crew are gonna want
answers from you, too.

And as I explained
to Mr. Dufresne,

it's his word
against Flint's.

Why would anyone
believe him?

I hold in my hand
a letter

written by Mr. Gates
confessing his knowledge

and complicity in
the captain's myriad crimes.

We're going to lose them.
We don't have time for this.

As well as his knowledge of the
captain's continued treachery

up to and including
his plan to steal

a portion of the treasure
fleet proceeds for himself.

I gave you all an order!
Fire!

Fire!

Mr. Logan.

It's in Mr. Gates's hand.

Where are you going?

Justice, thief.

This time there's
no escaping it.

You're welcome.

Raise the sails.
We're going home.

Who's shooting?!

Sorry.

Had to be done.

There's no running now.

Logan:
The Ranger's coming about.

The Spaniards have got
men in the rigging.

Fire, Mr. Dufresne.
Everything you've got.

Don't waste
this moment.

All cannons,
open fire!

Open fire!

Reload!

Gunner:
Ready with this cannon!

Fire!

The Ranger's opened fire!

Again!

...Fire!

She's coming about!

Fire!

Fire!

Below!

To your stations!

Set sail!

Doctor! Doctor!

Max:
No-man's-land.

There was a time when stopping
halfway across this bridge

would have been
unthinkable to you.

How things change.

I can see that.

Max, I know
we haven't spoken,

but I just want you
to know how sorry I am...

Don't.

You have nothing
to be sorry about.

I was standing between you and
your dreams for this place.

You did
what you had to do.

I thought you said
this place was just sand.

Sand has
its virtues.

On sand,
nothing is fixed.

Nothing is permanent.

And fates change
so quickly.

Yesterday Captain Hornigold
was immovable from that fort

and Captain Vane
was a beggar.

Now look at them today.

Yesterday I was a whore
of little consequence,

easily dismissed,

easily forgotten.

Today I am a madam

with an income
and allies

and a woman who has learned
the most important of lessons.

Never let anyone stand in
between you and your ambitions.

Ma'am,
they're ready.

Congratulations on the launch
of your endeavor, by the way.

Today you have everything
you have ever wanted.

I suppose we can only guess
what tomorrow will bring.

They think it'll be a while
before she sails again.

In the meantime,
you and I have been charged

with provoking
this whole mess.

Why am I still alive?

Why didn't you kill me?

Get him up.

Told you I was certain about my
information regarding the Urca.

Unfortunately, you and I failed
to take into account the weather.

The Urca de Lima wrecked
at sea last night.

Dashed by the storm.