Captain Hamilton hauled himself over onto the right after Sierra. He wasted no time in pulling out a pistol and shooting an armed sailor at point blank in the face. The man, dressed in mercenary garb, fell flat onto his face. Discarding the smoking weapon, Hamilton quickly scrutinized the deck and agreed with Sierra's estimate of twenty armed men on deck. Concluding the nature of the vessel was not what it originally seemed to be, Hamilton yelled out to his crew. "Don't hold back, men! This is no merchantman. Privateers under the flag of England, the lot of them!" Hamilton heard footsteps behind and spun around with his smallsword unsheathed, but he was beaten to the chase by a bullet to the back of the enemy soldier's head. He glanced in the direction of the Revenge and saw the gunfire of sharpshooters up in its masts, providing covering fire.
A second sailor armed with a cutlass stood up to strike him, but Hamilton swiftly disarmed him with a clean spin and parry, and ran his sword through him. Just a few feet away, the remainder of the enemy was finished off by several pistols shots by other members of his crew. The deck was theirs, but the enemy captain was still at large. Hamilton reckoned that he was either in the captain's cabin or the galley, barricaded with a least a half dozen more soldiers.
"Everybody, to me! Find the captain, have him surrender, or kill him. Sierra and Johnston, with me; we're going below."