Norrington swiftly left his office, striding past Ruby and a few concerned officers. He knew who had taken the letter. It had been a bit of a long shot to expect Jack to obey his order to take the Black Pearl and leave, but Norrington had hoped the pirate would at least have the good sense to stay out of sight and out of trouble. Of course Jack was responsible for blowing up the barrels—that much had been immediately obvious—and now Norrington knew why. Jack had created a distraction, then slipped into the fort and stolen the incriminating document. Norrington could only hope the Black Pearl was still nearby and the letter still in Jack's possession. He had just started to let his guard down around the pirate, against his better judgment, and now Jack had betrayed whatever sliver of trust he had been just beginning to earn.

The pirate ship could only be anchored in one of a handful of places around the port, and Norrington was determined to find it. It occurred to him that the townspeople would be alarmed if they saw him looking hurried, so he took a deep breath and slowed his pace, forcing himself to appear calm. He was nearing the edge of the town, heading towards a path that few knew about and fewer had followed to its end, when he heard Lieutenant Peck calling him.

Norrington went back to meet the lieutenant, slightly concerned that something terrible had happened in the few minutes he'd been gone. "Is everything all right?" he asked. "Did something happen?"

"No, not exactly," Peck replied. "Just... Just rumors, sir, and I was hoping perhaps you could tell me if they're true or not. The men and I are just a little concerned and... well, confused. I don't mean to—"

"No, I understand," Norrington said. "What rumors?"

"Well, first..." Peck began cautiously. "Is it true Beckett's going to implement a curfew?"

That was the second time Norrington had heard mention of a possible curfew, so he was starting to be concerned that there might be some truth in that report. "Beckett has said nothing to me," he told Peck.

"There's talk of it all over town," Peck insisted.

"I am aware," Norrington replied. "I suppose it is entirely possible that Beckett has made plans to implement such a regulation without consulting me." He stopped himself before he started a rant against Beckett and all the other things he had done without permission or consultation. "Is there anything else, Lieutenant?"

Peck hesitated. "Well, just that I saw Lieutenant Groves and Lieutenant Gillette, and—"

Norrington sighed and held up his hand to silence Peck. "Their little altercation has nothing to do with you or with Beckett," he said. "I suggest you just leave that alone."

"Right," Peck agreed. "Thank you, sir. Sorry to bother you."

Norrington just nodded, and the lieutenant went back the way he came, leaving Norrington to make his way down to the spot he thought most likely for the Black Pearl to be anchored. He was right. And not only had the pirates anchored their ship, they had set up camp around the beach, as if the little cove were their own private island. Norrington walked up to the first pirate he saw and demanded to speak with Captain Sparrow. The pirate, startled by the commodore's presence and by the authority in his voice, simply pointed towards a group seated around a small bonfire.

Norrington went swiftly over towards the group. Jack sat in the sand with his back to the commodore's approach, but Gibbs sat on the other side of the fire, and his face registered enough alarm to alert Jack to Norrington's presence.

Jack twisted around and grinned at the commodore. "Ah, Norrington!" he said, hopping to his feet and coming towards Norrington with his arms spread wide. "You look..." The pirate's face and arms fell when he saw the look of displeasure on the commodore's face. "...unhappy," Jack concluded. "Might I be in any way of assistance in restoring you to your right temperament? I assume that's why you came, after all, seeing as—"

"The letter," Norrington said, stopping barely a foot from Jack.

Jack laughed nervously and took a step backwards. "What letter?"

Norrington stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Jack. "You know perfectly well."

Jack backed away again. "I most certainly do not."

"The letter that was stolen from Lord Beckett's desk earlier this afternoon," Norrington said, advancing towards Jack, pushing the pirate back. Each step the pirate took away from the commodore was a step closer to the bonfire, and Norrington was very aware that Jack was quickly running out of space. "I know you took it, Sparrow."

Jack glanced nervously back at the bonfire. He was feeling the heat on the backs of his legs. "All right, I confess," he said, holding up his hands to stop the commodore's advance. "I took the letter. You're welcome."

"You had no right—"

"Well, it was obvious to me that you were hardly going to take a hands-on offensive sort of approach to rectify this little inconvenience, so, as someone who considers himself your accomplice, I took care of it for you," Jack explained. "If that letter was, in fact, the only evidence Lord Beckett had against you, false as it was, in its absence he hardly has anything to use to your detriment. So, you're welcome."

"Beckett knows it's missing, and he thinks I took it."

"And you are welcome to take the credit, my good man, as I act only in service of your—"

"Where is it?" Norrington demanded, taking another step towards Jack.

Jack stepped back again. The heel of his boot landed among the embers, sending dark orange sparks leaping into the air. Jack looked down at the fire again, clearly trying to gauge the best way to proceed. "Where is what?" he asked, stalling for time.

"The letter, Sparrow. Where is the letter?"

"And why, exactly, would you need to know that?" Jack was still stalling, awkwardly, while preoccupied with the flames that taunted his ankles. "For a man who's just been done a service, you don't seem particularly grateful for the—"

"Lord Beckett knows the letter was stolen, and I have until tonight to return it," Norrington said, and was mildly alarmed at the desperation in his own voice. He felt the anger and tension leave his body, and he stopped advancing on Jack. "Just give me the letter, then take your ship and leave."

Jack hesitated and exchanged a nervous glance with his first mate. "Ah," he said, holding up both index fingers. He squirmed his way around the commodore to distance himself from the bonfire. "Well, that's going to be a bit more difficult that you had likely anticipated, I'm afraid."

"Has your ship forgotten how to sail?"

"Oh, no, it's not the ship. The ship's no problem at all. Quite the contrary, in fact, and actually, I find it a bit offensive that you would even suggest—"

"Sparrow..."

"The letter, then," Jack said. He backed away from both the fire and the commodore, rambling to put words between himself and Norrington. "About the letter, you see, I'm afraid that I will not be able to return it to you. I don't have it anymore."

"Who has it, then?" Norrington stayed where he was, but turned to follow the pirate's movements.

"Well, no one, exactly."

"Where is it? What have you done with it?"

Jack hesitated, stopping mid-step. His face betrayed guilt and a little bit of panic. "You're not going to like this, mate, but..." He glanced towards the bonfire.

Norrington followed the pirate's gaze for a moment, then looked back at Jack and frowned. Jack met the commodore's eyes for a moment, then looked back at the fire with a grimace. Norrington spun around and in two swift steps was in front of the fire. He looked down into it, but, of course, there was no sign of the letter. It was gone, burnt into particles of smoke that were now drifting far away from each other to fill the vast sky. Gone forever.

Norrington stared into the flames. They flickered and writhed before his eyes, but he didn't see them. He stared past them at something that couldn't be seen. He felt the heat of the fire adhering to his face and he felt his stomach drop like a weight and hit the sand because now the letter was gone, and Beckett would give himself free reign to unleash whatever terrors he saw fit. Beckett would retaliate for what he would see as an act of defiance. He would inflict his revenge not only on the commodore, but on the innocent townspeople as well. Norrington knew that. Beckett was going to take the town, and anything Norrington did to stop it would be labeled treason and used as ammunition in Beckett's case to destroy the commodore's reputation, career, and life.

Norrington steeled himself, holding back his irrational rage and desperation, and slowly turned around to face Jack again. The pirate had not moved. He stood staring with wide eyes, watching Norrington. Gibbs and Anamaria stood on either side of their captain, wearing similar expressions of shock, realization, and pity. Norrington faced them all for a minute, mentally cutting off any feelings associated with their faces. He no longer wanted to feel the pleasant familiarity that came from a long rivalry that had turned into shared perils, near-camaraderie, and something that was almost akin to trust. Clearly there was nothing to be gained from any association with Jack Sparrow, though it hardly mattered anymore.

"Beckett will have my career for this," Norrington said, his voice devoid of the anger that he and the pirates had both expected. "You are free to go or stay as you please. You can hardly make the situation any worse because you, Jack Sparrow, have already ruined me."

Then he turned simply and walked away, leaving the pirates to stare after him.

Jack blinked, and was suddenly aware that Norrington had disappeared. He tried to speak decisively, to announce a plan, but was only able to manage a false start and a stutter.

"Jack?" Gibbs asked, throwing his captain a sideways glance.

"Give me a minute!" Jack said, throwing up his hands in frustration and pacing away from Gibbs and Anamaria. He glanced around at the rest of his crew, strewn about the beach. They were all staring at him, too. "What's everybody lookin' at?" Jack shouted. Of all the contingencies he had ever anticipated, imagined, or encountered unexpectedly, this one was certainly both the most unexpected and the most unwelcome. The eyes of his crew were still on him, watching him, judging him. "I was trying to help, all right?" he shouted to the entire beach. "Quit staring at me."

"What're we gonna do now?" Ragetti asked.

"I don't know!" Jack cried. He faced the water and pressed the heels of his hands to either side of his head, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to drown out the thoughts that were shouting at each other in his head. It was a lost cause now. Best to take the Pearl and go. He'd only make things worse. There was the crew to think of. Pirates couldn't go making themselves into heroes. It was settled then. He'd go. Put this town to the stern and never look back.

Anamaria was at his side and she gently touched his arm. Her sharp eyes met his, telling him that she knew the thoughts that tormented him and that her mind was made up. "We've got to stay," she said simply.

"Of course we do," Jack said roughly, turning away from her. His mind was made up too. "Mister Gibbs!" he called, and the faithful first mate was immediately at his side. "Gibbs, tell me, if we turn ourselves against Beckett, make it known that we oppose him for being an unscrupulous cad, what exactly would be our standing with the law were our opposition made known to those in a position to enforce the aforementioned law?"

"Well," Gibbs said, "we'd be tried for crimes against the crown, for sure. Likely punishable by hanging."

"And how, exactly, would such a situation be different from our current state of affairs?"

"Seeing as we're all convicted pirates, I can't say there'd be much difference at all, captain."

"Ah," Jack said. "So we've got nothing to lose."