It is the year of our Lord 1689. They were unable to find it on Antigua: the legendary treasure of Siri Tong. Instead, it was a pretty close shave to escape the Spaniards. Accordingly, they had to decide whether they intend to be outlaws for life who will be hunted down by pretty much everybody or rather sail the seas with a letter of marque as privateers in the service of the British Crown. And Flint had arrived at a decision: with the stern towards England and the rest of the world ahead, his nose in the wind, one hand for his ship, the Walrus, and the other hand for the loot, but his eyes ever-watchful in search of the treasure. Without any hitch and thanks to a fair wind, they reached the Gulf of Darién, straight into the lion’s den: Cartagena, the seat of the Spanish viceroy in the New World and one of the world’s most fortified cities. They had no other choice if they wanted to find out which path the Spanish convoys had taken from Portobello, and in particular when the Spaniards had set out, but to both disguise the Walrus to look like an unremarkable freight sailer from Lübeck and enter the port of Cartagena under the Hanseatic flag. In the city’s ‘Inglés Infierno’ tavern, they were supposed to meet an ally who would be able to provide further information, a fellow called John Silver.