James had followed Will's advice, finding himself a little hole-in-the-wall inn. The room was sparse, with nothing but a bed, a bed side table, and a chair.  The first day he'd stayed in the main area of the inn, watching people go in and out, looking for anyone who could be regarded as suspicious. But he soon gave up. A place with that kind of disreputation attracted many suspicious characters, and he couldn't tell if any were looking for him. At any rate, he kept his head down in one of the back booths. His only entertainment was a thick Shakespeare book he found propping up a table in the main bar. When no one was looking, he'd taken it and was about halfway through. The nights were long, and he could find no sleep, jumping at any noises that sounded in the silence.

The second night was no exception. He stood at the window, leaning up against the window frame, and a mug of ale in his hand. Very few people were out in the streets, dodging out of the rain that had started coming down. He turned from the window, thinking about delving into the book again when he was hit from behind. The candle went out as his head hit the bedside table, falling off the table top. Cold fingers slid around his throat, cutting off his air. He grabbed the figure at the wrists, pulling the attacker's hands away. He could only see his outline in the darkness.

James swung up with a closed fist, landing a blow across the attacker's temple. The man grunted, his fingers loosening just enough for Norrington to roll from out underneath him. When he got to his feet, he looked around. There was silence in the room again. He grabbed the thick book, wielding it over his shoulder. "I know you're still in here." He whispered. "You didn't leave." The glint of silver beside him alerted him to  movement, and he swung out, connecting. The person yelled out, cursing.

He threw open the door, backing out slowly. The halls were just as dark, most of the people in their rooms already. All he could think of was getting somewhere with people, somewhere public where he couldn't be attacked. He dropped the book, waiting for an attack to come. He didn't have to wait long as he was attacked from behind. Twisting around, he fell, rolling backwards and throwing him over his shoulder. He was rewarded with a large thump in that direction. Scrambling to his feet, he crawled over, pinning the man down as he struggled. "Who are you?" He spat, holding him down.

The man only grunted in response. He couldn't see in the dark, which means threatening was harder.

The back of his neck tingled as he felt someone come up behind him. One foot lashed out, catching the second person in the stomach and sending him crashing into the wall. He was fastly getting outnumbered. The second attacker was climbing to his feet as James got to his feet as well, giving the man at his feet one last hit across the face. He staggered down the hallway when the second attacker grabbed his shoulder. He spun, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him to the wall.

"Stop." The attacker grunted, and James pulled back.

"Will?"

"Yes, Will." He rubbed his throat. "Thanks for the warm homecoming." He shot James a dark look through the dark, then turned, motioning down the hallway. "Let's go talk to our friend there. Looks like we got our first break."

The two men walked back down the hallway. Will knelt beside the attacker, shaking him. "Hey, wake up." There was a groan, and he looked up at James. "Help me get him into the room." Between the two of them, they dragged him into the room, throwing him in the chair. James ripped up the bed sheets, tying the attacker's hands behind his back as Will tied his feet to the legs of the chair.

"I'll never talk." He said groggily, looking up at them. James lit the candle, shedding light on the room. The man they'd caught was shorter than them and muscular. He stared up at them, an indifferent look on his face.

"You'll talk. It's just how you're going to talk that is still undecided." Will told him. There was no flicker of fear in the man's face. The pirate stared back with equal indifference. James stood in the background.

"Look, we already know that you…" He reached down, pulling the chain from around the man's neck. He held it up. "…are a mercenary. Most likely Ghost's crew." He pulled the second necklace from his belt, holding it up. It was identical to the first. "My question is…who hired you?"

"No one."

"Yeah, you just decided to go after some small town commodore and a pirate." Will said sarcastically. He got a defiant stare back. "Right, so you're not going to talk." He knelt down behind the man's back. "What's your name?"

"What?" He asked in shock, turning around to look at Will.

"Your name, what is it?"

"Marco."

"Marco, eh? You know who I am?" Marco grunted, shutting up.

"Right." Will grabbed ahold of one of his fingers, pulling upright. James winced at the crack that came next. Marco bit down on his lip, but didn't cry out. "Still got nine more to go, or you can tell me what you know."

"Will, is this really necessary?" James asked, his face slightly pale. The scene before him was disturbing.

"Up to you, Marco." He wrapped his fingers around another of Marco's and jerked it slightly when the mercenary opened up.

"Will Turner, your names Will Turner." He blurted. "His names James Norrington." Will let go of his finger.

"Now we're getting somewhere. Who sent you?" He sat on the end of the bed, hands on his knees.

"I'll never tell that." Marco spat on the floor at Will's feet. "Dirty pirate."

"Right, and mercenary is so much better." James muttered. Both the pirate and mercenary looked up at him in shock, then back at each other.

"He's got a point." Will said, smirking. Marco rolled his eyes. "Well, if you won't tell us willingly, I'll…" He got up from his seat, walking towards Marco.

"Look, I got nothing to tell you. We get our assignments through Ghost, and he just refers to the guy who hired us as Boss. He promised to pay us after the job was done." Marco sat back in his seat, looking at the two of them.

"Well, I'm starting to make sense of things." James said. "That's why Governor Swann's dead. Whoever's after Elizabeth needs the inheritance to pay his debts." Will stood up.

"I guess something's better than nothing." He muttered, before turning to Marco. "We're going to leave you here, alert the authorities, and you can talk it over with them." He smirked. "Have fun."

The two left the room, heading down stairs. "So what we've got is this person is targeting those around Elizabeth, and he has some kind of connection, power of some sort, but not a lot of money. Looks like we've got our work cut out for us." Will said.

"Let's get to it."