Chapter Three - The Call Back

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Disney.


The next morning, Vincent woke up surprisingly early considering the lack of sleep he received last night. Still in his bedclothes, he slouched at the dining table. He needed his coffee fix and of course, his daily newspaper. He flipped the newspaper over. There it was - the only reason he subscribed to it in the first place - The Crossword. Peace and quiet was just what he needed. His favourite pen, dictionary and white-out was placed beside him.

He set to the task at hand and scanned through the questions.

"Calypso wishes to free her love. Speak his name?" Vincent read aloud. This isn't even a question, he thought. This must be a cryptic clue.

Vincent never saw At World's End and therefore had no idea who 'Calypso' was. As far as he was concerned, it was a random name they decided to put in the cryptic crossword today. He tried rearranging the letters of the name for a suitable word.

Frustrated, he decided to break away from the insane mind-workout and make some toast. He had a feeling Elizabeth would be up soon and he didn't know how long ago it was when she last ate. On second thought… Does she eat? Technically she doesn't exist…

Slices of bread were inserted into the toaster as the orange light inside heated the chrome exterior. Vincent stared at the steam wafting into the air. The smell of slightly burnt toast followed not long after. He was suddenly snapped out of his daze as the high-pitch sound of his phone invaded his thoughts.

"Uh, hello?" Vincent asked, somewhat surprised that someone should be calling him.

"Is this Vincent Roberts?" asked the female voice on the other end.

"Yeah, that's me."

"You applied for a job at Medical & Chemical Contributors, yes?"

"Yeah. Yeah I did. Any news?" Vincent was surprised to hear back from this crowd.

"We'd like you to come in for an interview this afternoon. How does 2 o'clock sound?"

"Uh… I'll just check my schedule," he lied, stalling for time.

Vincent thought about this for a moment. He had a dilemma on his hands. Elizabeth Swann was in his house and he couldn't exactly leave her there. But then it wasn't every day he had an offer like this. After all, he was certainly lacking in the money department and could really do with a real job.

"Sure. Sounds great. I'll be there." And he promptly hung up the receiver.

Vincent sighed. Maybe Patrick isn't doing anything today.

After dialling in Patrick's number, Vincent tapped his fingers impatiently on the table as he waited for an answer.

"Damn, must you call me this early?"

"Think of me as your brotherly alarm clock," Vincent replied sarcastically, then added, "What happened to Patricia's Hotline, huh? Is she on a break or something?"

"Nah, she's hung-over. What do you want? Don't tell me you're THAT desperate, Vinnie."

"Not at all... Anyhow, what are you doing today?" Vincent asked.

Patrick could smell a rat.

"You're full of questions this morning. Can't I have a hangover in peace?" Patrick complained as he lay in an unmade bed, eyes closed, his head leaning against the wooden headboard.

"Hangover or not, you won't get peace from me, Pat. You know that," Vincent stated the cold, hard facts.

"This better be good," Patrick groaned.

"I'm offering you a vacation. It'll do wonders for your head," bribed Vincent.

Patrick quickly opened his eyes and sprung up out of bed, regretting it straight away.

"Vinnie, you should've said so earlier," Patrick rubbed his aching head. "So what do you want?"

"Well, it's nothing really. I gotta go out of town for an interview and I'll probably be gone a few days. I just want someone to watch the place, you know… and my stuff," Vincent answered.

There was a disappointing pause.

"Oh and wait! There's more! If you agree now, you'll receive free broadband, unlimited telephone usage, cable television with all your favourite channels…" Vincent did his best impression of an infomercial.

"I think I'll take you up on your offer," Patrick tried to sound less than enthusiastic.

"Oh, and there is one other thing, but I'll tell you that when you get here."

Vincent spotted Elizabeth Swann in the corner of his eye cautiously approaching him.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Elizabeth began, unaware that he was preoccupied on the phone.

Vincent pressed the mute button on the cordless phone and faced her, the voice down the other end chattering incessantly.

"I don't mean to be rude but could you please escort me to the ladies room?"

"Sure… and call me Vince," he said to Elizabeth, then back into the phone, "Pat, I gotta go. Oh, and you better be here in a few hours," with that he hung up the phone.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow. Who was he talking to? There was no one else in the room except herself and she certainly wasn't this 'Pat'.


Elizabeth stood alone in the cold bathroom with her bare feet upon the orange and green shaggy mat that clashed against the pastel linoleum floor. She curled her toes into the soft fibres of the mat and wondered if Will knew where she was. Is he coming for her? Does he even know she's gone? Surely someone out there would have told Will of her abduction - if she could call it that -… even him.

She considered climbing out the window but realised it was impossible when she saw steel bars blocking her escape, making her feel more imprisoned than she thought she was. She would have to tread carefully.

Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom feeling a little fresher than before; though she would have preferred a clean change of clothes. She made her way down the long hallway and turned right, finding herself in the living room. The broken glass was cleaned up and the room looked much different in the daytime.

She made herself comfortable in one of the ultra soft armchairs, unlike the hard wooden ones she was used to back home. It rocked slightly as she sat in it. She could get used to this, she thought.

Vincent made his way into the living room, suitcases and all.

"I'm going away for a few days," he started.

Elizabeth felt her heart jump for joy at those very words. She could escape!

"Oh, I wish you a safe journey," Elizabeth said politely.

Vincent found her politeness slightly unnerving.

"Yeah, that's nice… My brother Pat's gonna be coming around to watch you so you don't have to worry about being here on your own, alright?"

There was a change in her demeanour.

"That won't be necessary. I'm more than capable of looking after myself," Elizabeth was adamant that she didn't need the extra protection just because she's a woman.

"Yeah, yeah, I bet you are… but you don't belong here. Weird stuff can happen."

"Really, like what?"

"See this?" Vincent motioned to the 'machine' still placed on the coffee table. "I don't want you to go near this. It can be dangerous."

Curiosity washed over her. Curiosity… Oh, how she missed those pirate adventures.

"Yes, of course," was her reply.