Hello everyone, and welcome to Chapter 5! Thanks for the reviews, the favs, and the follows, I really appreciate your support! To my Guest reviewer, I'm glad it's nice to know that you think I made the right call. I'm afraid we won't be seeing Meg anymore but I've got another strong female OC coming soon ;)

Right, so this chapter follows the movie pretty closely. Nothing I can do about that, but the next two chapters are completely, or almost completely in the case of the second one, original. Anyway, I know that the meaning of the phrase 'bait and switch' doesn't exactly match what's happening here... unless you take it literally. They bait Norrington, and then they switch ships :)

Upon consideration, Isabella had foregone wearing a marine's red coat to get into Fort Charles. The risk of being stopped by another soldier or an officer was simply too great. Instead, she had stolen a long dark coat off a corpse and donned it over hers, hiding her distinctive sash and her long dark brown braid at the same time. She was now striding purposefully up the broad well-maintained road that climbed to the fort, her head and her hat angled downward. Her stomach was in knots, her heart was pounding, and her shoulders stiffened with each redcoat who passed her. She was careful to keep looking straight ahead lest her eyes snag on theirs and their attention turn to her. The last thing she wanted was for them to notice that she was a woman, which would inevitably lead to embarrassing questions such as "Now why is a woman wearing breeches?" followed by "Are you perchance the pirate we failed to capture yesterday?"

Well, they wouldn't actually ask that second question. No, they'd just escort her to Norrington at gunpoint.

Soon enough, the wall of the fortress was looming over her, the dark mouth of its gate flanked by two square watchtowers. So far so good, she thought while knowing that the most dangerous part was still ahead of her. The distinct and particularly uncomfortable impression that she was sticking her head straight in the lion's mouth strained her nerves as she passed through the shadow under the arched gateway. She came to a small courtyard separated from a larger one by an inner wall pierced by another gateway. Both were teeming with people, mostly soldiers—which meant more opportunities for Isabella to be spotted. Knowing that she couldn't afford to remain still for too long, the pirate stepped to the side, carefully out of the way, and scanned the bustling courtyard in search of any clue as to the location of the prison. Fortunately, after travelling through a gap between two soldiers on horseback, and then the second gateway, her gaze quickly fell upon the wreckage of what had clearly once been the gallows. Reasoning that they would logically have been placed close to the entrance of the prison, she made her way to the central courtyard with the assurance of someone who knew exactly where they were going and had good reasons to go there. She dodged two marines carrying the body of one of their own, skirted a pile of rubble, glanced around the courtyard as she came through the gateway... and almost froze in her tracks, her heart lurching in her chest.

An open gallery ran around the courtyard, except at the back, where a few stairs led to a sort of balcony enclosed by a parapet. Commodore Norrington was standing just on her right, in the gallery, studying the maps laid out on a table in the company of two other Navy officers—including Lieutenant Gillette—and Governor Swann. The two marines who'd been guarding the Interceptor the day before were there too, ready to intercept whoever approached the little group. Isabella didn't think twice about it—if Norrington was on her right, then she was going left. She ducked in the gallery and followed it, praying that the prison was located on this side and that she wouldn't have to go any nearer to the commodore than she already had. Someone somewhere had apparently decided to do her a good turn because she soon reached a heavy wooden door reinforced with iron. She cheered inwardly upon finding it not only unguarded but also unlocked. Behind it was a small guard room at the back of which was a narrow stone staircase leading down into the bowels of the fort. At least, Isabella assumed it was a guard room; there was a small wooden table flanked by two chairs, its surface strewn with playing cards and stained by the ale that had spilled from two overturned tankards. She couldn't find any keys, though, and she muttered a curse. The sinking of the Rogue, the sloop that Jack had bought with stolen money after Barbossa's mutiny, hadn't just destroyed her supply of medicinal herbs but had also deprived her of an excellent set of lockpicks. Right, find Jack first and the keys later, she decided, jogging down the stairs. At the bottom was a long corridor lined with a row of cells; pale daylight streamed in through the barred windows that pierced the back wall of the cells. Jack was lounging on the straw-scattered floor of the cell across from her, the look on his face much too unconcerned to be honest.

"Jack," she said as she walked up to his cell.

At the sound of her voice, the pirate propped himself up on his elbows, his face turning sour.

"What took you so long?" he groused.

"Fighting undead pirates," Isabella deadpanned, her hands on her hips. "I think we can reasonably assume that the Aztec treasure was indeed cursed."

Jack stood up and approached the cell door, against which he leaned sideways, his arms folded.

"I know," he said. "I got visitors last night. Thought this was the armoury."

Isabella snorted in amusement.

"I bet they were disappointed. Now, do you know where the keys are?"

"They went that way," Jack answered, pointing to his left.

His friend raised nonplussed eyebrows.

"The keys have legs?"

"No, the dog that's got the keys does."

Isabella opened her mouth, decided that she had better things to do than speculating on what had possessed Norrington to entrust the prison keys to a dog, and closed it again with a shake of her head.

"Right then," she sighed. "I'll try to find that dog."

She took a few steps down the corridor, only to stop short when the door upstairs was opened vigorously enough to slam against the wall.

"Merda," she hissed, flattening herself against the wall next to the mouth of the stairwell while Jack threw himself on the ground.

She drew her pistol and flipped it so as to grasp it by the barrel, ready to whack whoever was coming on the head with its butt. But, instead of a marine or a Navy officer or even Norrington himself, it was a young brown-haired man who came running down the stairs and marched straight up to Jack's cell. A young man whom she recognized as the one she'd seen fighting Barbossa's pirates with a boarding axe.

"You, Sparrow!" he called out, and Isabella frowned at the undercurrent of urgency in his voice.

"Aye," Jack replied nonchalantly.

"You are familiar with that ship? The Black Pearl?"

Since he didn't look hostile, Isabella decided it was high time she made her presence known. She stowed away her pistol and, clearing her throat, she stepped away from her wall. The young man spun around, his hand flying to his cutlass; recognition flashed in his eyes when they fell on Isabella.

"I saw you last night," he remarked without letting go of his cutlass—Smart, Isabella thought. "You were fighting those pirates." He narrowed his eyes warily. "You're a pirate too, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so. Isabella Sforza, pleased to meet you." The Brine-Tongue pointed her chin at his weapon. "You can relax, I'm not going to hurt you. Not unless you give me a reason to, that is."

The young man hesitated for a moment before letting his arm fall to his side. Isabella nodded and walked past him to lean against the bars of Jack's cell so he could have both pirates in his field of vision. The conversation would be easier that way.

"So, where does it make berth? The Black Pearl?" the young man asked while the Brine-Tongue folded her arms and crossed her legs at the ankles.

Jack lifted his head to give his interlocutor a half-amused, half-disbelieving look.

"Where does it make berth? Have you not heard the stories?" He let his head fall back to the ground. "Captain Barbossa and his crew of miscreants," he explained, his hand waving in the air, "sail from the dreaded Isla de Muerta. It's an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is."

"Why are you interested in the Black Pearl?" Isabella chimed in, her head cocked slightly.

The young man's gaze travelled between the two pirates hesitantly, from which the Brine-Tongue deduced that his reasons were of the personal kind. His next words confirmed it.

"They took Miss Swann."

A surprised 'huh' escaped Isabella. Strange, she mused. I didn't think Barbossa was the type to hold someone to ransom. Unless—this possibility struck her heart like a flint and sparked a roaring anger—his men had taken Elizabeth for a completely different reason. No woman deserved such fate, and so she decided there and then that she'd help the young man—she really should ask for his name—rescue the governor's daughter, which she was sure was what he had in mind. It seemed that Norrington wasn't the only man to vie for Elizabeth's affections... Jack's voice, or rather what he was saying, snapped her out of her thoughts.

"... you'll have to do it alone, mate–"

"No," Isabella cut him off. She straightened up and turned to level a determined look at her friend. "You do what you like, Jack, but after we get out of here, I'm going to help him."

Jack sat up and regarded her with a kind of resigned exasperation. 'I should've known you were goin' to say that', Isabella translated.

"I'm not leaving a young woman in the hands of those butchers," she rapped out with steel in her voice. "Besides, who knows? We may get an opportunity to take the Pearl back. It would be a shame to miss it, no?"

"Then you'd better find that dog," Jack retorted, clearly unconvinced. "Unless you intend to bash the door open with that hard head of yours."

"I can do it," the young man cut in as Isabella glared at Jack. "I can open the door."

"How's that? The key's run off," Jack snarked.

"I helped build these cells," the young man explained with an appraising glance at the door. "These are half-pin barrel hinges." He picked up the long bench placed against the wall behind him and levered it at the bottom of the door. "With the right leverage and the proper application of strength, the door will lift free."

Isabella raised impressed eyebrows and considered their would-be ally with renewed interest. Resourceful, she thought. A decent fighter, too. Good—he'll pull his weight.

"What's your name?" she asked.

The answer came after a moment's hesitation.

"Will Turner."

"That will be short for William, I imagine," Jack commented. "Good strong name. No doubt named after your father, eh?"

Something in his tone prompted Isabella to direct her attention to him. What she found had her narrow her eyes suspiciously. All these years in his company had very much familiarized her with his manners and, at this moment, he looked a little too casual, as if he was trying to mask his interest in Will's answer. And when the young man confirmed, his face took on an expression that anyone else would have called thoughtful, but Isabella knew him better than that. She recognized what she called the 'now what's the best way I can profit from this?' look. That name meant something to him, she realized. His next words turned her suspicion into certainty.

"Well, you two are in luck," Jack said as he got to his feet. "I've changed me mind. Mr. Turner, if you spring me from this cell, my friend and I," he gave Isabella a pointed look, "swear on pain of death we shall take you to the Black Pearl and your bonny lass." He stuck a hand between the bars of the door and held it out for Will to shake. "Do we have an accord?"

Will turned to Isabella, his eyes asking her if she agreed to the terms. When she answered him with a firm nod, he grasped Jack's hand and gave it a resolute shake.

"Agreed."

"Agreed," Jack repeated in a satisfied tone. "Now get me out of here!"

Will pushed down hard on the bench and the door was lifted off its hinges. A hard jerk freed it completely, then he thrust it aside, sending it crashing down on the floor with a resounding clang that made Isabella grimace in displeasure and her heart pick up speed. She tensed up, waiting for the clatter of boot heels in the stairs.

"Hurry," Will urged as Jack stepped out of his cell. "Someone will have heard that."

"Not without my effects."

By some miracle, their little group didn't have to leg it out of Fort Charles with a troop of marines hot on their heels, waving their rifles and screaming bloody murder. Still, unwilling to tempt fate, they took great care to avoid the soldiers patrolling Port Royal and its surroundings. Thirty tense minutes later, they found refuge under the very bridge where Jack and Isabella were supposed to meet the night before. The two pirates studied the prospect in front of them, weighing their options. The Interceptor and her dock were bustling with activity as the ship was being loaded with supplies in preparation for what Isabella now knew to be a rescue mission, making her impossible to access unnoticed. And as for the warship moored in the bay—the Dauntless, if Isabella had to guess—, she was big, which meant slow, which meant that the lighter, faster brig would catch up with them before they made it to open waters.

"We're going to steal a ship? That ship?" Will's tone left no doubt as to his opinion of such an attempt—that, on the scale of good ideas, it ranked somewhere between swimming with sharks and putting oneself between a thirsty pirate and his bottle of rum.

Unless, Isabella kept pondering, they managed to lure the Interceptor into the bay and its crew off her...

"Commandeer," Jack rectified. "We're going to commandeer that ship. Nautical term."

And what better way to do that, the Italian pirate concluded with a devious smirk, than to steal the Dauntless, or to pretend to? Suddenly, Jack turned around to face Will, the movement interrupting her train of thought.

"One question about your business, boy, or there's no use going. This girl... how far are you willing to go to save her?"

"I'd die for her," Will blurted out fiercely, a flame in his eyes.

Isabella shook her head. Ragazzo avventato,she sighed mentally. If he kept confusing the willingness to throw his life away with bravery, he really was going to get himself killed, and maybe others—most likely Jack and her—along with him.

"Will, let me tell you a little secret about us women," she said, folding her arms and shifting her weight onto her left leg. "We much prefer men to live for us. So do us all a favour and don't be reckless, d'accordo? I'd rather not die because you're too busy playing the white knight to think rationally. Capisci? Understood?"

Will scowled, annoyed at being lectured like a child, but, since arguing with the pirate would only serve to waste precious time, he nodded sharply.

"Understood."

"Bene."

"Right, here's the plan," Jack cut in before Isabella could be tempted to impart more pearls of wisdom to Will. "We make for the beach and we use one of those fishing boats to get to the Dauntless–"

"But they'll see us," Will cut him off, which earned him an aggravated glare.

"They won't if ya do as I say. Now, the ship'll be guarded so we'll put everyone we find in a longboat–"

"They'll warn Commodore Norrington," Will pointed out.

"That's the whole point," Isabella intervened, preventing Jack from snapping at the young man. "Norrington will catch up with us on the Interceptor. All we have to do is to stay out of sight while Norrington and his men board the Dauntless, then we swing onto the Interceptor while their backs are turned, and voilà."

"Izzy, luv, you took the words right out of me mouth," Jack said, grinning widely. "'Course, we'll also have to make sure the Dauntless can't follow us... I'll see what I can do with the tiller ropes."

"It's decided, then... yes? In that case, andiamo!"

The three of them snuck to the nearby beach and, on Jack's instructions, slipped under a rowboat lying upside down on the sand among other fishing boats.

"Patrol coming this way," Jack warned his companions as he joined them in the close fish-smelling dimness. "We'll have to wait for it to pass us."

Fortunately, the boat was long enough that its underside wasn't too cramped, but still. Even the sinking Jolly Mon had been more comfortable. In tense silence, they waited until the drumming of booted feet on the sand came and went. Then, they pushed the boat up with their backs and their hands and, bent double to expose as little of themselves as possible, they waded into the sea. The boat promptly did what was expected of it—its weight kept them underwater while the inside of its hull trapped the air bubble that allowed them to breathe. Still, walking along the bottom of the sea was no easy task. Their whole bodies strained against the water with each step they took, forcing them to a frustratingly slow pace; even breathing took effort because of the water binding their chests. Isabella thanked God for her height—she was only an inch shorter than Jack, which let her keep her head well above the water.

"This is either madness or brilliance," Will commented with a note of wonder in his voice.

"It's remarkable how often those two traits coincide," Jack replied, prompting an amused snort from Isabella.

"Especially when it comes to you, amico mio," the Brine-Tongue said with a wry smile.

Jack flashed her grin over his shoulders. Moments later, a muffled crunch followed by Will's irritated grunt caught Isabella's attention. She glanced behind her and saw the young man scowling at something underwater.

"Something wrong?" she inquired.

"Put my foot into a crab trap," Will grumbled. "Can't get it out."

"Leave it, the rope might come in useful."

As it turned out, Jack also found a purpose for the trap itself, using it to block the rudder chains. And they were indeed very, very glad to have the rope when it came to climbing the rear of the massive warship. Jack was the first to reach the top and carefully peered over the rail; once he had ascertained that the quarter deck was empty, he gestured at his partners in crime to follow him and heaved himself onto the deck. A few moments later, they were all standing aboard the Dauntless, leaning on the rail and trying not to pant too noisily as they worked to catch their breath and waited for the fire in their muscles to die down.

"Ready?" Isabella whispered once the three of them no longer felt as if they'd lose a fight against anything bigger than a lobster.

The two men answered with nods. Jack and Isabella drew their pistols, Will his cutlass, and they silently crept to the stairs that led to the main deck. The voices coming from it told them that Jack had been right to expect guards. For a moment, Isabella worried that they were about to throw themselves straight into the arms of half a dozen marines but it quickly appeared that she didn't have to. Of the seven people on the main deck, only two were marines and one was a Navy officer—the Italian pirate recognized Lieutenant Gillette. The others were unarmed sailors, unless a mop could be considered a weapon. The pirates' unexpected appearance startled them but their surprise didn't give way to fear—only mild confusion, even though Isabella's pistol was cocked and pointed at them.

"Everyone stay calm!" Jack commanded as he waltzed down the stairs, closely followed by Isabella, while Will leapt over the bannister. "We are taking over the ship."

"Aye! Avast!" Will barked, his cutlass raised, clearly going for 'menacing' but ending up closer to 'overzealous puppy'.

The men burst out laughing while Isabella grimaced in second-hand embarrassment and Jack gave the young man a 'don't ever do that again' look.

"This ship cannot be crewed by three people," the lieutenant pointed out, his tone a mixture of condescension and smugness that made Isabella want to punch him in the mouth. "You'll never make it out of the bay."

With a smirk, Jack aimed his pistol squarely at Gillette's nose and cocked it, the sharp little click snapping the threat home. Suddenly, the Navy officer didn't look so confident.

"Son... I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"And I," Isabella went on with a charming smile, her pistol still firmly levelled at one of the soldiers, "am Captain Isabella Sforza. Chiaro?"

At gunpoint, they had the men lower one of the longboats into the water and pile onto it. Predictably, they wasted no time in heading for the docks. Of course, Isabella, Jack, and Will couldn't just stand there like lemons. They had to make whoever would come running—most likely Norrington—believe that they really intended to make off aboard the Dauntless. With that in mind, they set about unfurling the sails, the two pirates taking this opportunity to teach Will the names of the sails and lines, and also a few things about the proper way to work them. While they didn't bother rushing about, they didn't exactly take their time either... Wouldn't want the commodore to smell a rat.

They didn't have to keep up the pretence for very long. Maybe ten minutes after the crew had been kicked out, Isabella and Will were standing in the bow, the former explaining to the latter how to raise the jib while keeping an eye on the crew's longboat, when the sails of the Interceptor were unfurled. They quickly filled out and the brig cut through the water towards them.

"Ah, the game's afoot," Isabella commented with satisfaction. "Come on, Will."

They hurried back to Jack, who was waiting by the wheel.

"Here they come," Will told him.

The two pirates exchanged devious smiles.

"Everyone to the bow," Jack instructed, flapping his hands at them in a shooing motion.

They took advantage of the substantial girth of the foremast and hid behind it while the Interceptor swiftly came alongside the dreadnought. Grappling hooks were thrown, the two ships were drawn together, marines and sailors swarmed and swung across. A gangplank was set up for the commodore, who strode aboard ordering his men to search the ship. As the last soldiers left the Interceptor, Isabella, Jack, and Will scurried to the starboard bow and climbed on the rail. By tacit agreement, Jack put an arm around Isabella's waist while she threw one of hers across his back to grasp his shoulder; they grabbed hold of a dangling line with their free hands and launched themselves over, Will close behind. They let go once they were above the forecastle and landed deftly. The alarm had yet to be raised but, since someone on the Dauntless might catch sight of them at any second, there was no time to lose. With a few strokes of Will's boarding axe, Jack cut the lines that tethered the two ships together while Will and Isabella raised the foresail. The light brig moved away, causing the gangplank to slip with a very audible clatter and fall into the sea. Isabella saw Norrington turn around, his face as stiff as a wooden mask, and shout something that prompted his men to scramble back to the starboard side. But the distance between the two ships was already too great.

"Oh, that's a bad idea," Isabella commented with an amused smile when a sailor grasped a rope anyway and swung across, only to splash into the sea with a startled cry.

"Thank you, Commodore, for getting us ready to make way!" Jack shouted from the wheel with a flourish of his hat and a grin on his face. "We'd have had a hard time of it by ourselves!"

Isabella's soaring, vibrant laughter was cut short by shots fired by the angry marines stuck on the Dauntless, forcing the trio to take cover for a few seconds. The cannons had been run out, Isabella noticed when she straightened up, but it didn't matter. Thanks to Jack's sabotage, not to mention the wind a quarter astern, the warship would never be able to get close enough to fire at them, let alone give chase to them. Her face lit up by an elated grin, she watched the Dauntless shrink in the distance as the Interceptor glided out of the bay and into the open sea.

They were free.

Well, what do you think? At first, I was going to have Jack introduce Isabella ("... and she's Captain Isabella Sforza. Savvy?) but she's perfectly capable of speaking for herself. So I had to find the Italian equivalent of 'savvy' ^^ On another note, the differences in Izzy's and Jack's characters are starting to show: the former isn't nearly as self-interested as the latter, though she's no paladin. There'll be another example of that in the next chapter.

Just in case you're curious, Isabella is 5'8'' (1m73). Oh, and I am planning to give you a detailed description of her but I want to write it from James' point of view, so you're going to have to wait four, maybe five chapters.

Let me know what you think of the chapter and of story so far! And if you have any questions, I'll be happy to aswer them.

Translation:
- merda = shit
- ragazzo avventato = rash/impetuous boy
- d'accordo? = all right?/agreed?
- capisci? = understood? (litterally: do you understand?)
- bene = good
- amico mio = my friend
- andiamo = let's go
- chiaro? = (is that) clear?