A/N: You see before ye the second part of my fanfic opus The League of Extraordinary Pirates. The premise of the story (stolen from Alan Moore) is this: Jack Sparrow leads a crew of rogues from literature and history. Every character who shows up or is mentioned will either be from a pirate movie, book, poem, or history. In this chapter I'll be introducing the villain, who is the title character of Charles Godfrey Leland's excellent poem El Capitan-General. Enjoy.

Jack beckoned to his four newfound shipmates. They scurried onto the dock, their way lit only by the full moon.

They stood on the dock for a while. There was no sound, save for that of the gently lapping tide. Then there was a whistle. Looming out of the darkness like some colossal beast of the deep, there emerged a vessel that would have been rather unremarkable, but for the fact that its sails were jet-black.

Is that...? said Tresillian, his voice trailing off. Hook snorted. It's a myth. he sneered. Is it now? said Jack. He was liking the frilly little nancy boy less every waking moment. The gangplank was lowered, and Jack ushered the pirates aboard. He nodded to Gibbs. You're a bit late. We had trouble with a territorial dispute. replied the mate. Jack rolled his eyes. Bloody Captain Sharkey giving you trouble again? he asked. Gibbs shook his head. Nay, not this time. Twas that Blood bloke. I'm not familiar with him. Jack said. I am. said Tresillian. He can be a thorn in one's side, but he's devilishly charming at the best of times. Gibbs looked apprehensive as Bonny stepped aboard. You know what I've told ye about women aboard, he said. You're absolutely right. said Jack. Let's throw Hook over the side. No, I meant... Jack interrupted, is one Anne Bonny. Gibbs' eyes widened. I lied. It can be good luck. he said quickly. Anamaria swiftly but noticeably scowled as Bonny walked past her.

Jack stood at the head of a long table in his cabin. The rest of the pirates he had recruited were seated. On the table was a map of the coast of Vera Cruz. Overlapping it was a picture of a handsome, smug-looking man with dark hair and a mustache and goatee. He was dressed in the style of Spanish noblemen. Jack looked up, after studying the map for a long time. Pay attention, because I'm only going to say this name once. he said. This is Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. He's a captain-general from around the parts shown by this lovely little map. I've heard off a Yank named Stephen Folger that he's extremely crafty and an excellent fighter, but he's got a rather unfortunate fondness for Madeira.

So what, precisely, is wrong with this Spaniard? asked Tresillian. What's wrong with him? said Jack incredulously. He's bloody vicious! Dozens of me friends have lost everything off him. So you're lookin' out fer yer pals? said Silver. Oh, I would never pretend to be anywhere near that altruistic. said Jack. I happen to know he's going after me next. So that's it? said Hook angrily. We're helping you pursue a vendetta? It's not a vendetta, said Jack, in an offended tone. I just wanna kill him. And why should we help you? asked Bonny. Jack smiled cynically. You don't think he's actually spent any of his plunder? he said. He's taken booty from every continent. We get him, you get a cut, you go buy yourself something pretty. Savvy? Bonny seemed impressed. No further questions. she said.

Well, then, said Jack. If no one else wishes to interrupt me in the middle of me grandiose schemes, we'll be heading to Cartagena for food and supplies. We should be there by nightfall. What do you mean, said Tresillian. explained Jack. I'm not a machine. Get enough fer two. piped up Silver. corrected Bonny. Jack liked them both as much as he disliked Hook. Tresillian seemed a decent cove, even though corsairs operated legally, which, as far as Jack was concerned, defeated the whole purpose. He was generally happy with this new crew. But was the old one? He couldn't get Anamaria's look of malice out of his head...perhaps the rum would do it for him.

Two hundred leagues away, Don Alonzo gave the small, cruel smile he was so famous for. After fifteen years of searching, the bearings were finally his. His vast network had finally gotten them for him, with the help of his most loyal lieutenant. Don Alonzo had money and power, to be sure... but soon he would have what had so long eluded him... immortality.