Chapter Two

Times Up

"50 men on a dead man's chest. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum." Gibbs sang as he sat on the Black Pearl. He started to laugh heartily and took a huge swig of rum from the bottle he had in his hand. An ominous gong sounded and he looks up and watches a pack of crows fly overhead.

In the pirate prison a whimpering and screaming prisoner was dragged inside and his ankles had been rubbed raw from the manacles around them. There was a crow plucking an eye from another prisoner who was hanging in an iron cage. The sound of a door closed and on the crag nearby the surf was breaking on the rocks below. Coffins were being hauled into the waves by a couple of men and they left the cliff side and walked back inside. A crow flew down and landed silently on one of the coffins and started to peck at it until it was blown away by a pistol shot that seemed to come from inside the coffin itself. A tanned hand holding the pistol broke through the wood and it swung around as if to check in case anyone else was around before emerging fully.

Jack Sparrow broke through the wood and sat up in the coffin that was floating on the sea. He re-shaped his hat and put it on his head. Jack looked around the place he was at before reaching around into the coffin. There was a sharp crack as he pulled off the skeleton's leg. "Sorry mate." he muttered before he put it into the water to use as a paddle. "Do you mind if we make a little side trip? I didn't think so." He continued to use the leg as a paddle until he came to where a ship was docked. He signalled the people on board and a short balding man came to the side of the ship and helped him on board. He got the skeleton's leg in return.

"Not quite according to plan." he muttered. He followed Jack as he walked over to the helm.

"Complications arose, ensued, were overcome." Jack said. Gibbs passed the leg to Cotton.

"You got what you went in for, then?" he asked curiously.

"Muhuh." Jack mumbled nodding his head. He grabbed a piece of cloth and started to wave it around. He was met by a disgruntled looking crew.

"Captain, I think the crew - meaning me, as well," Gibbs started slowly. "Were expecting something a bit more..." he started to shake his hand at chest level as if visualizing what he was saying. "Shiny. What with the Isla de Muerta going all pear-shapes, reclaimed by the sea and the treasure with it."

"And the Royal Navy chasing us all around the Atlantic." someone piped up and Jack frowned.

"And the hurricane!" Marty said and everyone voiced their agreement.

"All in all, it seems some time since we did a speck of honest pirating." Gibbs told him and Jack looked at him.

"Shiny?"

Gibbs nodded his head. "Aye, shiny."

"Is that how you're all feeling, then? Perhaps dear ol' Jack is not serving your best interests as Captain?" Jack raised an eyebrow at them all.

"Awk, walk the plank." Cotton's parrot squawked and Cotton quickly put his hand over it's beak so it couldn't continue. Jack scowled and cocked his pistol and aimed it at the bird.

"What did the bird say?" he growled.

"Do not blame the bird." someone said. "Show us, what is on that piece of cloth there." Everyone looked pointedly at the roll of cloth in Jack's hand. The moment was broken when the undead monkey, Jack, dropped down and grabbed the cloth and ran away. Jack quickly shot at it and it dropped the cloth and Jack grabbed it again.

"You know that don't do no good." Gibbs told Jack.

"It does me." he scowled.

"It's a key." Marty said as he saw the cloth was unrolled.

"No, much more better! It is a drawing of a key." Jack said and unfolded it properly so the crew could see. Everyone just stared in silence as they stared at the piece of cloth. Jack seemed disconcerted. "Gentlemen, what do keys do?" Nobody said anything.

"Keys... unlock things?" someone eventually said unsurely.

"And whatever this key unlocks, inside there's something valuable. So, we're setting out to find whatever this key unlocks!" Gibbs exclaimed.

"No." Jack said making Gibbs more than confused. "We don't have the key, we can't open whatever it is we don't have that it unlocks. So, what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it."

"So, we're going after this key!"

Jack frowned. "You're not making any sense at all." Gibbs looked even more baffled and frowned. "Any more questions?" he said as he looked around the ship to his crew.

"So... Do we have a heading?" Marty asked. Jack pulled out his compass and opened it.

"A heading. Set sail in a..." He frowned as the compass needle swung back and forth. Jack's finger followed it and decided to pick a random direction. "General... that way direction."

"Captain?"

"Come on. Snap to and make sail, you know how this works." Jack ordered, ignoring Gibbs. "Oi, oi!" He shooed the pirates out of his way and walked into his cabin and left his confused crew on their own.

"I've notice lately, the Captain seem to be acting a bit strange...er." Marty commented shrugging.

"Setting sail without knowing his own heading, something's got Jack vexed. You mark my words, what bodes ill for Jack Sparrow, bodes ill for us all." Gibbs sighed.

InPort Royal a map was being painted as Will and Charlotte was led into Beckett's office; still shackled. The two soldier that had them opened the door and ushered them inside. "Lord Beckett, the prisoners as ordered, sir." one said as they were led inside. Beckett looked up and walked around his deck.

"Those won't be necessary." he told them and pointed to their chains and they nodded and undid their chains. Charlotte rubbed her wrists and sighed. Beckett was pouring drinks she noted when she looked back up. "The East India Trading Company has need of your services." he said as he handed the drinks over, however they did not take them. "We wish for you to act as our agent in a business transaction with our mutual friend - Captain Sparrow." Charlotte's eyes narrowed.

"More acquaintance than friend. How do you know him?" Will said tonelessly.

"We've had dealings in the past." He held up a red-hot P brand and Charlotte narrowed her eyes dangerously. "And we've each left our mark on the other."

"What mark did he leave on you?" Charlotte asked but was ignored. She huffed and folded her arms around her chest. Beckett just placed the iron brand back in the fireplace and turned to face them once more.

"By your efforts, Jack Sparrow was set free. I would like you to go to him and recover a certain property in his possession." he told them.

"Recover. At the point of a sword?" Will asked, frowning.

"Bargain." he responded. He opened a wooden box with the East India Trading Company insignia on it and removes a leather case and took out a few sheaves of paper from within it. "Letters of Marque. You will offer what amounts to a full pardon - Jack will be free, a privateer in the employ of England."

"Somehow I doubt Jack will consider employment the same as being free." Charlotte scoffed.

"Freedom." Beckett scoffed back at her and put the papers away and walked out to the balcony. The two looked at each other before following him. "Jack Sparrow is a dying breed. The world is shrinking. The blank edges of the map filled in. Jack must find his place in the New World or perish. Not unlike you, Mr. Turner, Ms Turner. Yours and your fiancé Mr Turner face the hangman's noose."

"So you get both Jack and the Black Pearl."

"The Black Pearl?"

"The property you want that he possesses." Will stated and Beckett laughed lightly.

"A ship? Hardly. The item in question is considerably smaller and far more valuable. Something Sparrow keeps on his person at all times: a compass?" Recognition showed up on both their faces. "Ah, you know it. Bring back that compass, or there's no deal." Charlotte frowned.

"Why do you need me to help?" she asked. "Will could probably do this on his own."

"I heard you had something of a love affair with Sparrow." Beckett said and smirked at her.

"Wouldn't call it that." she muttered.

"You will be most useful."

Jack tapped his fingers on his desk as he looked over the map that was placed on the top of the desk. He looked at the compass and tapped it trying to get a heading and he grumbled under his breath when the compass refused to give a heading and co-operate. Jack leant forward and grabbed the bottle of rum and frowned. He turned it upside down and watched in disgust as a lone drop of rum fell onto the wood floor.

"Why is the rum always gone?" he muttered to himself as he dragged himself to his feet. He wobbled but righted himself. "Oh... that's why." He grabbed his hat and put it on his head and left the cabin and made his way to the stores, passing through the crew quarters. He looked at the crew and raised an eyebrow to them as they carried on sleeping and snored, some looked as though they were about to fall on the floor. "As you were, gents." he muttered and nodded his head before going into the stores. He looked around and noticed that it looked empty. His eyes lit up when he spotted a bottle and grabbed it. He frowned. That didn't feel right. He tipped it upside down and let out a sigh as sand came falling from it and landed on the ground.

"Time's run out, Jack." he heard a chilling voice croak and he spun around. He dropped the bottle on the floor and moved closer, the lantern lighting the way for him.

"Bootstrap. Bill Turner?" he questioned. Bootstrap emerged from the shadows and had barnacles covering his body and sea water spilling out from his mouth.

"You look good, Jack." Bootstrap croaked.

Jack just stared at him. "Is this a dream?" he mumbled.

"No."

"I thought not, if it were, there'd be rum." Jack sighed and watched as Bootstrap stretched his arm out to him with a creak and held out a bottle of rum. Jack stepped forward and grabbed it but had some difficulty getting it.

"You got the Pearl back, I see."

"I had some help retrieving the Pearl, by the way. Your son and daughter."

"William? Charlotte? Ended up pirates after all." Bootstrap said as his head snapped up.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your carbuncle?" Jack asked as he took a swig.

"He sent me. Davy Jones."

Jack paused. "Ah. So it's you, then. He shanghaied you into service, eh?" Bootstrap looked at him intensely.

"I chose it. I'm sorry for the part I played in the mutiny against you, Jack." he said honestly. Jack looked revolted as a little crab escaped from Bootstraps sleeve and he grabbed it and ate it. "I stood up for ya. Everything went wrong after that. They strapped me to a cannon, I ended up on the bottom of the ocean, the weight of the water crushing down on me. Unable to move, unable to die, Jack, and I thought that even the tiniest hope of escaping this fate, I would take it. I would trade anything for it." Jack coughed and stood up straighter.

"It's funny what a man will do to forestall his final judgment." he said with a wave of his arms.

"You made a deal with him, too, Jack. He raised the Pearl from the depths for you, thirteen years you've been Captain."

"Technically, I..."

"Jack." Bootstrap muttered and shook his head sadly. "Won't be able to talk yourself out of this. The terms would apply to me; apply to you, as well. One soul, bound to crew a hundred years upon his ship."

"Yes, but The Flying Dutchman already has a Captain, so there's really -" Jack said but was interrupted.

"Then it's the Locker for you!" Bootstrap exclaimed. "Though this is terrible, the leviathan will find you and drag the Pearl back to the depths and you along with it."

Jack took a breath and looked up. "Any idea when Jones might release said terrible beastie?" he asked slightly nervously.

"I already told you, Jack. The time is up." he told him and put something into Jack's hand. "It comes now. Drawn with ravenous hunger for the man what bears the black spot." Jack opened his hand and his eyes widened seeing the black spot spread out on his palm. Bootstrap faded away and Jack, slightly panicked, rushed out to the crew quarters and started to shout.

"On deck all hands! Make faster - gasket! On deck! Scurry! Scurry on! Move it! Move it! I want movement!" Chaos broke out below deck.

"Mr. Skinner, pick it up!" Jack heard Gibbs mutter as he tried to pull on his clothes before he ran up on deck.

"All on deck! Run! And keep running! Run as if the devil himself and itself was upon us!" he shouted. He wrapped his marked hand up with a strip of cloth and clenched his fist.

"Do we have a heading?" Gibbs asked.

Jack didn't seem to notice Gibbs as he kept looking around. "Ah! Rum! Land." he eventually said when he spotted Gibbs. Gibbs walked away but then spotted Jack under the stairs and went over to him. "Ah!"

"Which port?"

"I didn't say port. I said land, any land." Jack said frantically. Suddenly Jack, the undead monkey, climbed down and grabbed his hat. The monkey hissed at him, which Jack felt compelled to do the same back. "Ah!" Jack's hat was thrown overboard by the monkey.

"Jack's hat! Steer about." Gibbs shouted.

"No, no, leave it." Jack said as he stood up and everyone gave him funny looks. Jack loved that hat. "Rum." he muttered and hurried away.

"Back to your stations, the lot of ya!" Gibbs ordered and turned around. He quickly spotted Jack back under the stairs and frowned. "Jack?"

"Shh!"

"For the love of Mother and Child, Jack, what's coming after us?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

Jack hesitated. "Nothing." Gibbs frowned, something strange was going on and how were they meant to stop it if they didn't know what was going on? In the distance a boat snapped into pieces and was dragged under the ocean waves.