Disclaimer: I do not own any of the rights to copyrighted characters of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise.
The roar of the explosion sent his body hurtling through a cloud of smoke towards the open sea. As his back struck the surface of the water, the breath was knocked out of him, which brought him to the realization that he had survived the fiery destruction of the Endeavour. His body began to sink into the depths, but was stopped abruptly by the presence of the downed East India Trading Company ensign, which cradled his body only several inches from the surface of the water. Struggling weakly to free himself from the fabric all around him, Lord Cutler Beckett writhed a bit and then went limp, thinking what he assumed was going to be his last thought. How could this have happened to me? How could I have been defeated in such a way? Before long, I'm going to die here, on the very ensign of the ship I commanded. When is the remainder of the fleet going to arrive?
Little did he know, the others had hastily left behind the wreck of the H.M.S. Endeavour. Only the Flying Dutchman and Black Pearl were in close proximity to the ship's remains.
Meanwhile, the Black Pearl was in celebration mode. Jack, Barbossa, Pintel, Ragetti and the Singaporean crewmates had since descended to the hold to fetch some rum and to survey the damage to the hull, which they imagined would be extensive. Only a couple of crew members remained on deck.
Elizabeth Turner gazed out at the floating mass of wood splinters and dead bodies from her position on the quarterdeck of the Black Pearl. She spotted the remains of the East India Trading Company ensign and what appeared to be a body on top of it. The hat, the wig, the short stature, recognition dawned on her – it was Lord Cutler Beckett floating peacefully, totally intact, on the flag. Had he actually been able to die an honourable death in this battle? She watched the scene intently for any sign of life, and was given a much better look of the body as the Pearl turned back to the ships of the awaiting pirate lords. As the Pearl slowly passed alongside the remains of the Endeavour, she saw the body's arm very deliberately change position. If he is indeed alive, there is no way in hell that I am letting him die such a peaceful death in the presence of his supporters.
"Mr. Gibbs!" she yelled to the stout crewmate, the person she knew second-best only to Jack on the ship, who fortunately hadn't went below deck with the others. He nodded in acknowledgement and was quickly at her side.
"What is it, Miss S—Mrs. Turner?" He had almost said Miss Swann, and chuckled a bit as he corrected himself mid-sentence. This was the first time he had referred to her by her married name.
She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him over to the side of the Pearl. "Look at that flag there on the water. Do you see it?"
After only a second, he had spotted the large obvious East India Trading Company ensign. Silently he scoffed.
Elizabeth continued. "Now tell me this, is it who I think it is there?"
He glanced quickly around himself, grabbing a nearby telescope from the deck and holding it to his eye. "Could that—could that be Lord Cutler Beckett?"
"My thoughts exactly. And I don't think he is dead either."
Gibbs flashed her an incredulous look. "What are ye gettin' at, Miss—Mrs. Turner? That we ought t'rescue him?" Her face did not change its expression.
"Do I sense a softenin' in yer resolve?" he further implored her. She had been so hell-bent on revenge, screaming for the ships to fire on the Endeavour, and now she was taking pity on the very man she despised? Maybe marrying Will had already brought about changes in her.
Elizabeth turned to the weathered man, eyes narrowed.
"I do not wish that Lord Beckett should die such an honourable death. He's totally intact and laying on his bloody ensign, for God's sake. Is that in any way fair?"
Gibbs shook his head as she continued. Nah. Same old feisty Elizabeth.
"Did he spare my father's dignity and reputation? No. He most certainly hanged my father from the gallows with a smile on his face. If he indeed survived our attack without so much as a noticeable scratch, then I must see to it that he wishes he hadn't survived."