Elle listened to Gibbs and Turner talk. Fin had gone back to his duties and had left Elle to her thoughts. She guessed she should probably be doing something useful, but being at dock most chores and jobs were not needed.
While staring down into the clear water below, something caught her out of the corner of her eye. She watched numbly as a man asked a soldier something, and then turned to run. However, said man ran right into someone who was much larger than he, causing a fall.
By now, the actions of the three had grabbed attention from onlookers. As several British soldiers moved in to grab the man and take him away, his face turned towards her and she gasped audibly, gripping the sides of the ship until her knuckles turned white. It was Wes.
"Help! He needs help!" Elle frantically shouted.
Will and Gibbs turned to her and stared, Fin looked at her concernedly from the riggings, and the rest of the crew paused in their duties as well.
"What is this, Miss O'Brien?" Gibbs asked, regarding her as one would regard a mentally ill person.
"West! He's been taken captive, I just saw him!" Instantly, Will and Gibbs moved closer to her. She just barely remembered to use West instead of Wes, a habit she had not easily broken. "He was speaking with a soldier when he recognized, and his father had him taken away to the jail."
"Why would West be wanted by the law? And what is this business of his father?" Will asked, suspicion and curiosity showing in his dark, thoughtful eyes.
Elle swallowed nervously. Should she tell them? It would help Wes, but she had promised not to tell, or, had not told for fear of him disliking her more for it. She made her mind quickly.
"He… he is wanted for murder. But it was an accident!" She added quickly. The crew's eyes widened and Elle groaned inwardly. "Mr. Turner, Mr. Gibbs, may I speak with you privately?"
"I think that would be best," Gibbs said, leading them below to the captain's office.
::xXx::
"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum…"
"Jack, will you please stop singing?" Norrington asked, for the fifth time. Wes smiled, knowing how much the former commodore abhorred common folk songs, and ironically those about pirates, especially when the singer is less than satisfactory.
"Suit yourself, I was only trying to cheer this place up. There's no rum, after all…" Jack sighed.
"It's a prison. It's not supposed to be cheery. It's not supposed to have rum!" Norrington shouted the last bit at him, breathing heavily and his hair mussed. Quickly he composed himself again, seating himself back down and returning his breathing to normal.
"Do you hear that?" Jack asked suddenly.
"What? Silence? I do, and I enjoy it immensely," Norrington retorted.
"No, no there's someone coming, on the stairs," Jack put his face next to the bars, cocking his head while trying to discern for any sound. Norrington rolled his eyes.
Moments later, Gillette appeared on the stairs. He walked to where he was facing the three of them in their cells and stood.
"Gillette, how nice of you to drop in, can I offer you rum? No, wait, I don't have any, now I remember, it's a bloody prison!" Jack said to him. Norrington shot him a look that clearly said to remain quiet.
"Gillette, what brings you here?" Norrington asked him, his tone returning instantly to that of a navy commander. Gillette remained silent for a while before speaking.
"I came to see you. I have been quite curious as to how you ended up here and it has caused me considerable lack of sleep," he said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"That's surprising Gillette, especially of you and you sense of devotion to duty," Norrington remarked.
"Odd, I once thought the same about you," Gillette replied. "I came to help because even though you've joined…" he paused, casting a disgusted look towards Jack, "them, I still admire you. I know that somehow you were doing good in it all, and you don't deserve to be incarcerated just because of an old grudge between you and Beckett. Which is exactly why you are being jailed, Beckett had no reasonable evidence to put you here."
Jack looked at Gillette appraisingly. "Now that's something I did not expect." They ignored him.
"Gillette, you need to disguise yourself and get down to the docks. Find the Pearl, and speak with Gibbs and Will Turner. They will help you devise a plan to get us out of here," Norrington told him carefully. Gillette nodded as any obedient soldier would and went off immediately.
::xXx::
Beckett listened intently as the Irish man described the ship. His eyes darted from the man to outside the window by the docks.
"Mr. O'Brien, is it?" Beckett asked. The man nodded. "Mr. O'Brien we appreciate your help, and you will be rewarded handsomely when the offending ship is found."
The man smiled and nodded, pleased with himself. Outside the office, there was another who was not so pleased. Gillette listened to the man's description and realized it was the Pearlhe was describing. He sped off faster than before and made his way to the ship, hoping he could get there in time to warn them of the impending danger.
::xXx::
"And that's all. I know nothing more about Wesley Silverthorn," Elle told them, nervously clutching her hands together and putting them in her lap.
"You say Norrington knew of this?" Turner asked. Elle nodded. The door to the captain's office burst open, and Fin stood there gasping for breath.
"Mr. Turner, Mr. Gibbs, a certain Commodore Gillette informed me that he has things to discuss with you, but first the ship must be moved to a safer place. Beckett knows where the ship is docked; he'll be coming anytime soon," Fin said. Gibbs jumped to his feet, running above deck and shouting orders. Elle could feel the ship lurch a short time after as the ship pulled out of the harbor.
::xXx::
Gillette walked into the small, somewhat cramped office, taking the seat offered him by Turner.
"I was sent by James Norrington. He said that you were who I was to speak to as for arranging an escape for him and his… comrades," he spoke.
"Aye, we can do that," Gibbs answered, having returned from giving the crew orders. The ship was know safely anchored behind a rocky cliff, out of site of any patrolling navy ships or East India Trading Company vessels.
"I came here under disguise; my commanding officer does not know where I am or what I am doing. I am willing to help however I can, to an extent," he said.
"I was thinking we could sneak some of our men into the jail, while others stand guard. You would be most helpful in securing keys to the locks," Will said. "It is simple, but that is what makes it brilliant. They will not expect us to go for something that is so easily identifiable."
"That would work, and it would not compromise my honor," Gillette said, musing to himself. "Yes, I can do that. You would then stand guard outside the prison? With how many men?"
"At least three, and two will enter into the jail to free our captives. It can be done at night, when there are less guards about and enough darkness to help shield our doings," Will answered.
"Agreed." Gillette shook hands with Will, and they settled on carrying out the plan the next night.
::xXx::
"I-I swear it was here! I swear it!" John O'Brien looked frantically up and down the docks. "It couldn't have just disappeared," he muttered to himself.
"Mr. O'Brien," Beckett began, the pleased smile had long since left his face, "I would like it if you would not waste out time. We are busy men with important things to do. Now, do you know where the Black Pearl is, or not?"
O'Brien stuttered for a few more moments before once again shaking his head in consternation. Beckett sighed disappointedly and signaled for the men to head back.
The Elf enjoyed writing this chapter, and she is sorry that it took so long. We are on Spring Break now (YES!) and hopefully the Space Pirate will have the next chapter up soon!