Think of a clever distraction

One of your captors grabs the crewmember closest to him and pushes him down to his knees. "Say a prayer if you want," he says as he points his pistol to the trembling man's skull.

You whistle three ascending notes. A signal you and Will had used before.

"What the hell are you doing?" the other goon yells at you.

"Look around," you say. "Didn't notice one of us is missing?"

The first man stops pointing his gun at the kneeling crewmember and looks around. "Fuck! We lost that one-eyed bastard. Go look around, he has to be close."

At his order, the third goon starts to walk past you, intending to head deeper into the jungle brush. The other goon opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything, Will slips out of the dense greenery behinds him, knife in hand. He grabs the man by the shoulder and drives the knife into his back in the same motion.

The first one of Caesar's lackeys whips around to aim in Will's direction. Before he can fire, he is tackled by the man he was about to execute. You hear a loud bang as the flintlock pistol fires, but as he was tackled his pistol arm flew up, and the bullet flew aimlessly into the jungle. Other crewmembers from your group set upon him with both fists and knives, making short work of him. At the same time, you rush at the last mutineer who had just walked past you, stabbing him in the back before he could turn around and fire his gun.

You take a moment to collect yourself after. Brushing the dirt off your shirt, you turn to the rest of the crew. They're looking at you expectantly—it seems your initiative made you the de facto leader for now.