Thanks to Jackfan2 for the beta read!!!! School is over forever now, vacations are over. Maybe I can start updating regularly again!!!!

Chapter 13, Threats and Broken Promises

Bugger the code. Yes, she meant it. In addition, she meant a lot else by it too. Bugger the code, bugger the law, bugger the Commodore, and bugger Captain Jack Sparrow for getting himself into this mess in the first place. Each day after her visit to tend Jack in his cage, she met with the insufferable pig-headed commodore, and each day they played out the same argument.

The bastard knew Jack had nothing to do with the murders at the teaching school, he admitted it readily, and yet based on Jack's history of villainy the charges remained against him. Not that it would matter even if the charges were removed; Jack had done more than enough to warrant a death sentence.

So that was it then. Elizabeth and Will ate their meals in their cozy home and talked about injustice, and the crew of the Pearl wandered Port Royal creating havoc. This seemed to be as far as anyone got in formulating a plan. The lack of action did not sit well with Anamaria.

The Black Pearl could not attack the Dauntless once it was underway. Well, it very well could attack the Dauntless. It might even win, but not without consequences. Norrington still seemed to be under the impression that he was doing Jack a favour in all this. If the Pearl attacked the Dauntless, Norrington would be hell bent on seeing the crew hanged. There really was no question about his ability to do this; had he not already eradicated the Caribbean to the point where pirates were becoming history?

Anamaria would not allow Jack to become history, or not yet at least. There were several enterprising storytellers out there making fine coin in taverns on his exploits, and she would not allow Jack's story to finish at the end of a rope.

Something would be done.

... But what?

The air felt stagnant and heated on the day Jack stood on the pier with Norrington and numerous other soldiers at his side. Anamaria stood on the shore watching the procession. The hot breeze coming in off the water smelt of dying fish and sweat. It would not do to act too soon. It would also not due to act too late. The thump thumping of her heart in her chest grew fast and loud, so loud she worried others might hear it. Could they not feel her anticipation, and her fear?

If anyone did notice, they didn't seem to care. She was just another woman staring forlornly out to sea. One of many wives, daughters, or mothers seeing their men off on yet another voyage.

It made her stomach ache to think that she would stand on the sidelines in this plot. But her lack of involvement was necessary; her lack of involvement was what would lend credulity to the events about to unfold...

Men are on fishing boats, readying their nets, doing whatever average fishermen do between drinking and babbling. This next part is pivotal to everything that happens afterwards. Two fishermen launch their small boat away from the dock. The action is not suspicious, they are not headed towards the Dauntless, and they are not headed towards the boat that will contain the prisoner. No eyes are on them, no one is watching except Anamaria, and she is trying not to.

The boat is distant, but not too distant. Minutes pass. Jack, resplendent in his rattling chains, is loaded onto a boat with four navy men. They row towards the Dauntless. Nothing is happening.

They are half way there. The boat grows smaller the farther it gets.

And then...

The explosion. It is not meant to be devastating. It is meant to divert attention, and it works. Everyone's interest is drawn toward the burning debris. What has happened? How? Why?

The why of it seems obvious to the Commodore standing on the dock. He is screaming something at his men. Through the commotion on land, no one hears him. He is jumping and waving like a mad man, his men aren't even looking in his direction. No one sees him. No one, except for Norrington, seems to see the object floating towards the long boat. Norrington knows what it is.

It is an unimaginative ruse. Nevertheless, it is working and that is what counts. The distraction has worked. The thing floating ever closer is nothing more spectacular than a barrel. It bumps the edge of the long boat- and the soldiers are surprised, they expected an attack from the opposite direction. This is not an attack; it is only a barrel, isn't it?

This is where things can get sticky. Anamaria waits anxiously. She is holding her breath. Nothing happens. That is the illusion that must be upheld, this lack of intent. The soldiers start moving a bit anxiously. There are shouts. The boat is getting low in the water, it is sinking, and in one fluid motion, it dumps its passengers over the side as it disappears all together.

There are four heads bobbing in the water, clutching at the floating barrel. Four navy men, there is no prisoner. Not any more. The chains around his wrists and ankles weighed him down. He sank. This conclusion is the obvious one.

The water here in the harbour is not clear the way that Caribbean water is fabled to be. It is murky, polluted, and dark. The prisoner is gone. It is assumed that the prisoner is dead.

The aftermath is anti-climactic. There is a futile search. No one expects to find a body, not with the chains weighting it down.

Nothing is found.

Anamaria is questioned. She is upset. Norrington displays sympathy, the questions he asks are gentle compared to what they could be. The interview ends with the appearance of Elizabeth Turner, she has come to offer comfort. She has come to take Anamaria home with her, so that she may rest. It has been a long and sad day. Everyone is tired.

TBC