This is a story written by three different authors on Fanfiction. Jack Sparrow's parts are wriiten by iloveJesusJohnnyandDanny. Sands Parts are written by AgentSJSands and Ichabod Cranes lines are written by Ichabod Crane.
Disclaimer: We do not own any of the Depp characters.
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Sands stared at the file in front of him. This had to be the strangest assignment he had ever been presented with.
"So, let me get this straight," he said to his boss, James Mason, "the CIA has somehow acquired a time traveling machine and I need to travel back in time to apprehend a criminal that made an undesirable impact on the future?"
Sands raised his eyebrows as he looked at his boss incredulously, waiting for a reply.
Jim cleared his throat and fidgeted nervously, "Yes, Sands, that's what I'm telling you."
Sands sat back in his chair, and stared back at Jim with a maniacal grin, "Well, Jim, this is truly unbelievable. You expect me to get in some untried machine and travel through time?"
Jim was sweating profusely by now. He hated having to talk to Sands, heck, he hated being in the same room with Sands, and this assignment made him doubly nervous. Sands was notorious for being unpredictably violent and uncannily able to read people.
"Well, it's not completely untried. I mean, it's been tested. It works," he said weakly, his blue eyes darting around the room.
"Why me, Jim? Why was I picked for this assignment?" Sands dark brown eyes searched Jim's face for the answer. Jim wouldn't look him in his eyes.
"You have extensive knowledge of history. Wasn't that one of your majors in college?"
"Yes," Sands admitted.
"Well," he shrugged, "you're gonna need it." He didn't want to tell Sands everything, at least not yet. He only needed to know the basics, he reminded himself.
Jim stood up abruptly. "We have everything you need to get started, wardrobe, weapons, everything necessary to pull off this assignment. Read the file and then get going."
He walked out leaving Sands alone to study the file further. The time traveling machine was a teleporter to be exact. It was a state of the art creation made in secret for the CIA. It was approximately the size of a phone booth. When not in use, Sands could teleport it back to CIA headquarters until he needed it with a small remote control unit. With the remote control he could call it back to him. Therefore it would be undetectable to the people around him as he traveled through time. He looked over the schematics for the machine. It looked simple enough to use.
Sands lit a cigarette as he continued to read the file. He looked at the picture of the criminal he needed to find and capture. His name was Captain Jack Sparrow. His list of crimes was long. He was a notorious pirate from the mid 1600's. Conspicuously missing from the information was the reason why he needed to apprehend this Captain Jack Sparrow. He wondered why that information wasn't given, but it wasn't all that unusual for the CIA not to explain why it wanted things done.
He read the brief outline of the assignment. He was surprised to see that he would have to find his partner to complete the assignment in yet another century, the late 1700's. The picture of his future partner was also present in the file. His name was Constable Ichabod Crane, a famous police detective from that time. Sands wondered to himself why this man was to be his partner. The CIA must have a reason, but none was given in the file and how was he supposed to convince this man to come with him and assist him on the assignment? Well, he'd figure that out when he got there, he thought to himself.
He closed the file and stood up. "Well, might as well get this party started," he said aloud to himself as he strode out of the room and down the hall to where the time machine awaited him.
The room was guarded by a security guard and Sands had to show him his CIA ID to confirm his identity to be allowed into the room. That gave him some small comfort to know that the machine would be secure while he was on the assignment.
He entered the room. There was a complete wardrobe from several different centuries along with all the necessary accessories he would need to fit in. He decided he would still bring his trusted firearms with him. He didn't care that it probably wouldn't sit well with the CIA. He was not going to try to protect himself with anything less than the latest weaponry available to him.
He would be traveling to 1799 first to pick up Mr. Crane. He put on a police uniform from that era. He sneered at the inferior gun that went along with the uniform but strapped it on to complete the outfit, his own guns concealed under his new clothing.
He entered the teleporter. It was clear glass on the outside, with a simple computer interface inside with which he would enter the year and place to travel to in order to begin the process of traveling through time.
He took a deep breath and began to type in his ID and password as given to begin the process. The computer screen popped up a space to enter the year and place of travel. He entered 1799 and New York City and hit the enter key.
It didn't feel like he went anywhere, but the view outside the glass teleporter changed to a blur of colors before settling again to what looked like the middle of a city street. A horse and carriage were coming right at him before veering off to the side of the teleporter. The driver had a shocked look on his face as he passed by.
Sands quickly exited the teleporter and pressed the button on the remote control to send the teleporter back to the CIA until he needed it again. He surveyed the city street around him. It looked like something out of an old photograph or movie. There was nothing electric, he noted. Of course, there wasn't, he chided himself. It's 1799!
He began walking down the street looking for police headquarters. He found it without too much trouble and walked up to the front desk. A bored looking man was sitting there and barely looked up from his paperwork to acknowledge Sands presence.
"Yes, what do you need?" he said in a bored voice.
"Where is Constable Ichabod Crane? I need to give him some information."
The man shuffled some papers on his desk. "Didn't you hear? There's been another murder. He's at the crime scene right now."
"And where would that be?" Sands asked the man as he lit one of his brown cigarettes.
"The alley at 45th Street and 6th Avenue."
The man finally looked up from his paperwork and looked at Sands disapprovingly. Sands dark brown shoulder length hair was hanging loosely around his face, some of it shoved recklessly behind his ears. He looked completely out of place in this time period and the man was now looking at him suspiciously.
"Who are you, again?" he asked Sands.
Sands purposely mumbled something to the man as he turned and exited the police station to find the Constable.
"Should have tied my hair up," he said to himself. But it was too late now to worry about it.
He found the location of the alley and peered down it. He could see a figure hunched over something on the ground about halfway down the alley. He began walking toward him.
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Ichabod grabbed his bag and opened it up. He was inspecting the body at the crime scene. As he kneeled down, he took his goggles out of the bag and put them on. Then he pulled out a long instrument, and looked back at the body. He frowned, as he slowly reached over with the instrument and lifted the victim's hand. He closely examined the fingers.
There is skin under the fingernails, indicating that there was a struggle. Ichabod thought to himself, as he let the hand fall back to the ground.
His lip twitched as he studied the rest of the body.
The victim, a woman, was stabbed to death during the night, in the alley. The High Constable had allowed him to use his scientific inventions to try to detect the murderer. Ichabod was excited to have finally been allowed the opportunity to use his inventions to solve cases.
He glanced up, when he noticed a figure walking towards him.
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"Constable Ichabod Crane?" Sands asked as he approached the figure.
"None other," Ichabod replied.
"We have some business to discuss. This may be a little hard for you to understand," Sands said with a grin, "but I'll do my best to explain it. You see, you are going to come with me and then we are going to apprehend a pirate, together."
He looked at the man before him, waiting for his reply which would undoubtedly be one of shock and disbelief, but he was ready for that.
Ichabod pulled his goggles off and set them back in his bag. He looked annoyed as he looked up at Sands.
"I am not quite certain I know what you are talking about. Who are you? Why would I go anywhere with you? I am in the middle of a case." He frowned, as he looked at him. He thought Sands hair was rather strange looking.
"I'll explain it all to you on the way." He smiled his best smile at Ichabod hoping he would come along without a fuss.
Ichabod shook his head at Sands. He wonders to himself why this man just walked up to him, expecting him to just go along with him to who-knows-where.
"Well, I was afraid of that, " Sands said, mostly to himself, his cigarette still dangling from the corner of his mouth as he spoke.
He pulled the stun gun out of his pocket that he had placed there in case the Constable was reluctant to come along willingly. He aimed it at Ichabod's chest and sent a jolt of electricity through his body knocking him to the ground just long enough for him to press the button on the remote control and call back the teleporter.
The teleporter appeared right in front of him instantly. He smiled at the speed of the machine and dragged Ichabod's body into it. He set the time and place back to CIA headquarters where they would need to get their clothing changed to travel even further back in time.
The Constable would just have to deal with the obvious, he thought to himself. He wasn't going to be able to get back to his own time until Sands let him. He smiled a satisfied smile as the teleporter came to a stop again in the same room at the CIA that he started in.