Disclaimer: PotC does not belong to me.

A/N: Thank you again, and as always, for all of the feedback. I know I sort of left you all hanging with that last chapter, but you should all know by now how much I enjoy the occasional cliffy :-) Anyway, I tried to get the next chapter up quick to compensate!

Chapter Twenty One

"My God, Jackson?"

Chris' eyes were fixed on the pirate who was drawing nearer to the couple with each passing second. Ana had never spared another thought to the man who her husband had left for dead on a sinking pirate ship. He had died that day and did not warrant consideration. But then again, everyone had thought Chris was dead for the past two years. Why couldn't Jackson have survived, just as her husband did?

Unconsciously, Ana wrapped her hand around the tiger eye pendant that Jack had given her. "What did you call him?" Ana asked, her voice barely heard over the rain that was now pounding on the deck.

"That's him," Chris said, as Jack finally came to a stop in front of the pair.

The pirate did not say a word, but his dark eyes spoke volumes. Ana had stood next to Jack when he faced down Don Cornado, a man who had tortured him for almost a year. She remembered how cold the pirate's eyes had been. Still, the righteous anger that she had seen in those black pools on that fateful day, was nothing compared to the utter rage she saw as he glared at her husband. All around the frigate, the sea was beginning to roll and churn as though the water were just as angry as the pirate.

Ana's mouth dropped. Jack Sparrow was Jackson. Or he used to be. There was no other reason for his fury. He needed revenge? No, that could not be. Chris had told her that Jackson was an evil man, who had threatened his life for a promotion. Granted, that was a long time ago. A man can go through many changes in seven years. But, somehow, she could not believe that Jack Sparrow had ever been blinded by his desire for power, not when he had given up so much for her. He had risked his life time and time again, not for power or glory, but for her.

"You're dead," Chris said, obviously dumbfounded by Sparrow, or Jackson's, appearance.

"So are you, I understand," Jack replied, his voice feral and low. "I would guess that this is hell, 'cept I doubt the devil could catch up with you." A sudden crack of thunder made Ana jump, in spite of herself. The following burst of lightening illuminated the pirate's face.

"Sparrow!" James Norrington's voice broke into Chris and Jack's dueling words. "What in the world are you doing up here?"

The pirate's eyes never left Chris' face.

"You did not harm Captain Tarret when he came to see you, did you?" James shouted, his voice almost getting lost in the howling wind.

"No, I didn't."

"Sparrow?" Chris repeated the name. "You're Jack Sparrow?"

"Captain Sparrow," Jack said, bowing slightly.

"Of course, he's Jack Sparrow," Norrington interrupted. "Who'd you think he was?"

"A vision of past sins," the pirate said, mysteriously.

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Standing a few feet behind Admiral Fornin's desk, Prescott took a moment to look over the young officer seated before them. The Naval Gazette had already printed the tale of his amazing victory over the evil pirates that had attacked his ship and killed his captain. The people of the town rushed to meet this man, whenever he walked the streets. Everyone wanted to hear his personal recollections about the greatest story of bravery ever printed. Admiralty, knowing that the townsfolk needed heroes, had been inclined to believe the article from the Gazette, but this formal inquiry was still necessary.

"State your name and rank, for the record," Fornin said, not looking up from the pile of papers on his desk.

"Christopher Laffley, Sir, 4th Lieutenant of HMS Intrepid," the young man replied.

"Well, Mr. Laffley," the Admiral spared him a glance. "I, as most of the British Empire, have read the piece in the Gazette. Does your official report waver much from that article?"

A smile passed over Laffley's face. "Of course the papers exaggerate my role. I was just doing my duty, Sir," he said coolly.

"Of course," Fornin returned his gaze to the documents in front of him. "I understand Captain Green, and Lieutenants Henry and McKyntire were killed during the first action with the pirates?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And, what of Lieutenant Jackson?"

"Fatally wounded during the second action with the pirates, Sir."

Prescott scrutinized the young officer's face. Laffley was saying all of the right words. He mentioned duty, and only doing what anyone else would have done in that situation. He shook his head sadly at the mention of the other officer's names. He had a plausible explanation for every loss incurred during both battles. Why then did something about his tale seem not to fit? "A rather fortuitous turn of events, wouldn't you say, Mr. Laffley?" Prescott asked, speaking up for the first time."

The lieutenant's eyes narrowed just slightly. "Sir?"

Prescott shrugged. "A 4th lieutenant does not exactly have a great deal of opportunity for advancement, and yet, here you are, the only officer to survive this ordeal."

The Admiral was staring intently at Laffley, suddenly interested by Prescott's line of questioning.

"For the record, Sir, I resent the implication that I would take any satisfaction in the death of my fellow officers," the young man said, a hint of indignation in his voice.

"I imply nothing," Prescott said. "I was merely making the observation that you were fortunate to have survived."

"Indeed, Sir, I consider myself very lucky."

Prescott awoke suddenly to the sound of thunder and the flash of lightening that briefly rendered his cabin as bright as the daylight. Shaking his head, he cleared the dreams away from his eyes. After all of the questions that had gone unanswered during that inquiry, he could not believe that he had been so daft as to let that man marry his little sister. Cursing himself for a fool, Prescott pulled his protesting body up from the bed.

"Sir!" Mr. Daniels burst through his door. "Sir, that man, Lucky, e's up on deck with the Cap'n!"

Brows coming together, Prescott asked, "Sparrow or Norrington?"

"Both, Sir," Daniels answered, still trying to catch his breath.

"My sister?"

"Aye, 'er too."

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"Past sins! What in the - Do the two of you know each other?" James was yelling just to be heard. The wind whipped through the conversation, nearly stealing away every word that was spoken.

"Who doesn't know the Captain of the Lady Maria?" Jack said. The pirate did not shout, yet his words were as loud as the thunder.

"Captain?" Norrington turned to her husband. James was a gentle man by nature. He was a fair man. But, he was a man that did not abide being lied to, despite the frequency for which it happened.

"You're mad, Sparrow," Chris countered. "I was captive aboard that ship."

For the first time, the pirate's eyes caught Anamaria's stare. "Really?" he said.

Ana swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat. Chris was lying. Jack was asking her to call the man she had married a fraud. Her husband was dying. If she told James that he was a pirate captain, then he would be disgraced. James may not drag him into the town square and hang him, but Chris would still be labeled a traitor. On the other hand, if she lied to protect her husband, where would that leave Jack? Or Jackson. Or whoever he was.

"Yes, really," Chris interrupted Ana's thoughts. "Mr. Norrington, you have to know that I wouldn't deceive you. Are you truly willing to believe the word of a – a pirate?"

Ana had never felt so helpless in front of Jack, before this moment. The cold glare that had been directed at Chris was still in his eyes, and those eyes were staring straight at her. Jack knew that Chris was a pirate. In the broadest sense, Chris and Jack were the same. James did not know that. James believed that his former commander had been taken by a crew of miscreants and forced into a life of piracy against his will. Chris was using James' loyalty and sense of duty to his own advantage. She turned away from Jack. She could not meet his gaze any longer.

James lifted his chin. "You have been lost at sea for two years, Mr. Laffley. Whatever rank you once held, you will not hold again until Admiralty has reinstated you. So, whilst you are on my ship, you will refer to me as Captain or Sir. Do I make myself clear?"

Ana's eyes widened. James had always spoke of her husband with the utmost respect. His condescending attitude was surprising to say the least. Maybe he knew more than he was letting on. Maybe he had already learned of Chris' deception.

Chris' body stiffened. "Of course . . . Sir."

"Very good," Norrington went on. "As for you, Sparrow. I have no idea how you escaped the brig, but you will now return to that brig. You will remain there until we reach port. Understood?"

A smile that did not reach his black eyes, crossed the pirate's face. "Aye."

James nodded. "Annie, this storm may last all night. It is not safe for you on deck – "

"Sail, Sir!" a topman's cry broke through James' words. "Off the starboard bow!"

A lieutenant, who James had called Billings, rushed forward with a telescope.

"Not one, Sir," came the topman's voice again, before James was able to get the glass to his eye. "Two sails, Sir. Bearing down, straight for us!"

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Prescott stopped abruptly, causing Mr. Daniels to nearly run him down as they ascended the stairs. "Did you hear that?"

"Two ships, Sir," Daniels yelled in an effort to drown out the constant beating of the rain.

"Too much of a coincidence, don't you think, Mr. Daniels?" Prescott asked.

"East India, again, Sir?" The pirate's brows came together, clearly confused by the reappearance of the pair of ships.

"Perhaps," Prescott's eyebrow raised.

"Why would they be 'eading for the Interceptor? She's not a pirate ship."

"Interceptor isn't a pirate ship, Mr. Daniels," Prescott turned, and headed back down the stairs. "But, I'm not so convinced that those ships are East India, either. Come with me."

"Think they're comin' for Voller?"

"One way to find out."

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Ana struggled to see the ships through the heavy rain. The sails were just visible heading straight for the frigate. She could feel her heart beating faster within her chest. If the vessels were hostile, then they could fire on the Interceptor from either side. The Navy ship would be torn apart.

"East India," Norrington said, taking the glass from his eye.

Ana breathed a sigh of relief.

"May I, Captain?" her husband asked, gesturing to the telescope.

"Do you think they need our aid?" Ana asked James, as Chris fixed his eyes on the horizon.

"It's possible," James nodded.

"No, it isn't," Chris said, something odd in his voice.

"Pardon?" Norrington said.

Chris handed back the glass. "They don't need our help," he said. "Those aren't East India ships."

"What do you mean?" Ana broke into the conversation, despite the reproachful glance from Lieutenant Billings. Matters of the sea, were not a woman's business. Ana pursed her lips. To hell with Mr. Billings.

"The one in front is the Nefarious," Chris said. "She disguises herself as a member of the East India Trading Company and prays on Navy vessels. What sailors aren't immediately hung as spies are return to the nearest port and are hung as pirates. The authorities think they are ridding the world of evil and the Nefarious' crew sail away with reward money."

"My God," Ana whispered.

"What? More pirates!" James threw his hands in the air, obviously flustered. "Between the Lady Maria and . . . and . . ." he paused, glancing over his shoulders, "Where in God's name is Sparrow? Billings! Find him!" James began to massage his temples. "Nefarious, you say? How do you know this?"

"I've had dealings with her captain during my captivity."

Ana raised her eyebrow, trying to decide what Chris meant by "dealings."

"Friend of yours?"

"Not even remotely," Chris smiled a humorless smile. "A man named Voller. Hard man to forget, big as a ogre and twice as mean."

Norrington's mouth hung open, and all the color was gone from his face. "I know," his mouth formed the words, but the sound was lost in the gale.

"Had a run in with him, yourself?" Chris asked.

James nodded slowly. "He's in the brig."

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"Who are you?" Prescott demanded, reaching through into the cell and pulling on Voller's coat so that his face was pressed against the bars.

Daniels, leaning on the opposite wall, gasped in shock from the Navy man's behavior.

"What do you mean coming down here and assaulting me?" Voller asked in his nasally voice. "I will report you to Admiralty."

"You can tell Admiralty whatever you bloody well please," Prescott roared. "But now, you had better tell me who you are."

"Ironically enough, he's a pirate," Sparrow's words slashed through the silence.

Prescott stared blankly at Jack. A pirate? His body nearly shook with rage. He had been branded a pirate, by a pirate? Turning back to Voller, Prescott saw red. "You branded me for crimes I never committed," he seethed. "Crimes of which you yourself were guilty?"

A greasy smile formed on Voller's pudgy face. "Brilliant, isn't it?"

Brilliant! How could this man call himself brilliant. Images of the bloodstained torture room flashed through Prescott's mind. Voller was mad. He had caused so much suffering in the name of justice, and yet he was breaking the law every moment he drew breath. "I'll send you to the devil for this," Prescott growled.

Voller's smile only widened. "I heard the topman's cries," he gloated. "My associates are on their way and, if Captain Norrington decided to resist, we shall all meet the devil soon enough."

In one fluid motion, Prescott cocked his pistol and trained the weapon on Voller's rotund form. "You're going first."

TBC

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