Disclaimer: Nothing from PotC belongs to me.
A/N: Thank you so much for all of the positive feedback for the last chapter!
Chapter Twenty Three:
The Interceptor shuddered beneath Prescott's feet as she was hit by the first broadside from the pirate ship Nefarious, nearly causing him to drop the sack full of cutlasses and pistols that he was carrying. He had made up his mind. He was going to the second pirate ship to free prisoners and arm them to fight against their captors. However, as he rushed back up to the maindeck, Prescott realized that he did not have the foggiest idea how he was going to accomplish aforementioned feat.
A loblolly boy carrying a stretcher raced past to retrieve one of the wounded crewmen. Prescott shook his head as he watched the boy do his work. The injured man would not survive, no matter how gifted the surgeon happened to be. Such a senseless waste of life. They should have fled.
"Fire as you bear!" he heard Norrington's voice bellow just before the guns of HMS Interceptor answered the pirate ship's assault. Wood splintered off from the Nefarious and a few of the pirates fell to the bloodied deck. Unfortunately, Nefarious' partner in crime was just getting into position.
Prescott watched as Norrington ordered the guns reloaded. He should have known that James would never run from pirates, whether or not the pirates constituted a superior force. James would never give up the battle in an effort to win the war. Pirates were a menace that had no business threatening the British Empire. They were pests that needed to be eradicated. End of discussion.
"Jumping ship, are ye, Scotty?" Sparrow was beside him, gesturing at the bag slung over his shoulder.
"In a matter of speaking," Prescott answered. "That's were I'm headed," he pointed towards the approaching pirates.
"How're ye plannin' on doin' that?"
"I have no idea."
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A deafening crash jolted Ana from her position against the wall. She fell forward and landed on her face in the middle of the dark corridor. Picking herself up from the deck, Ana angrily wiped the tears from her face. She could not believe her actions, or her lack of action, for that matter. She had tried to apologize to Jack, and when he did not accept she had just slumped to the floor to wallow in self pity?
No, that would not do.
Jack Sparrow had come into her life over a year ago, when she had been a shell of the woman that Chris Laffley married. She had been content to merely exist without Christopher, but when Jack appeared he made her live again. He made her feel again.
Gathering up whatever pride she had left, Ana climbed up the stairs towards the stormy deck. Jack Sparrow had breathed life into the carcass that she had let herself become. She was not giving him up without one hell of a fight.
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Prescott held the rope that Jack had given him in his hand and regarded the pirate much in the same way he would have looked on a patient in a mental institution. "That's your plan?" he stammered.
"Aye," Sparrow answered.
Looking back and forth from the rope to the crazy rain soaked pirate captain, Prescott said, "You are supposed to be the most brilliant pirate in the Caribbean, and this is what you come up with?"
Mr. Daniels, holding his own rope, grinned at the gaping officer. "It'll work, Sir," he said. "We've done it before."
"You lived through this sort of an escapade before, and now you're willing to try it again! Fantastic," Prescott said wryly. "All that tells me is you're both insane."
"You alright, mate?" Sparrow asked.
"I'm going aboard a hostile ship with a pair of lunatics," Prescott exclaimed. "I'm just capital."
"We simply wait until after they fire on us. Then, we use these ropes to swing onto their deck. They won't be able to see us through all of the smoke from their broadside. We should be able to sneak down to the brig virtually undetected." The pirate flashed a broad smile and clapped Prescott on the shoulder. "It'll work, Scotty. Nothin' to worry about."
"That's assuming we don't get blown to smithereens by the broadside we're so calmly waiting for."
"This was your idea, mate," Sparrow chided. "Don't go soft on me now. We are, after all, operatin' under your assumption that there's prisoners in the pirate's hold. Long shot, if ye ask me, Scotty."
"I didn't ask you."
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"Have you seen my brother?" Ana demanded, once she had scaled the stairs leading to the quarterdeck and found her husband.
"Maria! What are you doing up here?" Chris asked. "I told you to go to your cabin until the fighting has ended."
"Forgive me, if I don't listen to another word you ever say, Christopher," Ana yelled through the thunderous roar of the storm and the enemy cannonfire. "Now, I owe my brother an apology, and I would like to deliver it, before . . . "
"Before it's too late," Chris finished her thought.
Pursing her lips, Ana placed her hands on her hips. Prescott was not the only one who deserved her apology, but she was not going to ask her husband where to find the pirate who had been in her dreams nearly every night for the past year. Besides, Jack was probably with Prescott anyway. Something extraordinary must have happened while the two men where chasing after Chris' ship, for they seemed to have reached some sort of understanding. Prescott did not immediately berate Jack's every move, and Jack had paid her brother one of the highest compliments she had ever heard.
"I haven't seen him," Chris said finally.
"You're lying," Ana charged.
"Why would you think that?" he said, looking hurt by her quick judgment.
"Why wouldn't I?" Ana shot back.
"Maria, I've made mistakes, in the past. I've lied before, but I've seen the consequences of my actions. I would never lie to you. I couldn't hurt you like that, again."
Ana pursed her lips. Looking in her husband's eyes, she so wanted to believe his words. She wanted to smile and tell him that she trusted him, like she always had before. But, she could not. Chris Laffley's lies had cost her too much already. She may have lost Jack and she was in danger of destroying the bond of trust that she had always shared with Prescott. She had to try to salvage something of the relationships she had once shared with the two men. If breaking the heart of man who had been dead to her for two years was a means to that end, then that was something she would have to do.
Before she could voice any of these concerns, the second pirate ship let loose it's first resounding broadside. The Interceptor shook from the force of the blast. Ana lost her footing and fell forward into her husband's arms.
"Good God, has he lost his mind!" she heard James Norrington's voice over the noise of the deck.
She pulled free of Christopher's grasp and turned just in time to see Prescott, hanging precariously from a rope, swing from the deck of the Interceptor to the deck of the second pirate ship.
"What in heaven's name is he up to?" Norrington asked nobody in particular.
"Maria, where are you going?"
Pausing in the middle of the stairway, Ana glared up at Chris. "I told you. I need to speak with my brother."
"You're not going over there!" Chris sputtered, his eyes full of shock. "You can't. It isn't safe. I forbid it."
"Your opinion is noted," Ana said, imitating the tone that Prescott used when dealing with people he disliked and with whom he disagreed. "But, with all due respect, try and stop me."
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"Who the hell are you?" a stupefied guard asked the three men approaching the brig.
Drawing his cutlass, Prescott placed the blade against the man's throat. "I'm afraid you don't get to ask the questions here, mate," he snarled, belatedly realizing that he sounded exactly like Sparrow. "Now, you're going to take me and these two fine gentlemen into the hold. You're going to unlock the cell, and let any prisoners go with us."
"Like hell I wi –"
Not waiting for the guard to finish, Prescott drew the sharp edge of his blade across the flesh of the man's neck, spilling his lifeblood onto the floorboards. "Mr. Daniels," he said. "Find the keys, will you?"
"Aye, Sir."
Entering the brig and seeing the blue striped uniforms of the captives, the thought crossed Prescott's mind that in his entire life, he had never been happier to see members of the British Navy behind bars. A few of the captives looked a bit worse for wear, but the brig housed at least twenty able bodied sailors. Trying to hide his relief, Prescott shot Sparrow and I-told-you-so glance. The pirate smiled and bowed his head.
Clearing his throat, Prescott stood in the center of the room. "My name is Captain Prescott Tarret of His Majesty's ship Loyalty. If you do not know already, the men that have taken you prisoner are not agents of the East India Trading Company," a murmur of acknowledgement spread through the cell. "They are pirates."
"Pirates!" one of the prisoners exclaimed, before letting loose a string of curses that made even Sparrow's eyebrows raise.
"I understand your anger, men," Prescott interjected. "I understand your desire for retribution."
A few of the prisoners nodded in acquiescence at the mention of revenge.
Mr. Daniels moved forward with the key to the cell, that he had retrieved from the slain guard. Taking the key, Prescott stepped up to unlock the door. Then, he picked up the satchel full of weapons and dumped them out onto the floor.
"Revenge you shall have," he announced.
A roar of agreement erupted from the newly freed captives.
Prescott nodded to Mr. Daniels. "Mr – Lieutenant Daniels will lead you to the maindeck," Prescott said. The young pirate looked a bit surprised by the title bestowed on him. Prescott only smiled. The captives would more readily follow an officer into battle, and besides, he figured Daniels deserved a promotion. "Put down any opposition, and take control of the guns. We will turn them on Nefarious. She won't know what hit her."
"Aye, aye, Sir," the group replied nearly in unison.
"Will ye be comin' wit' us, Cap'n?" a grizzled sailor questioned.
"We will take charge of the quarterdeck and set a course towards Nefarious," Prescott said, gesturing to himself and Sparrow.
"Who's 'e?"
Prescott was caught slightly off guard by the sailor's question. Naturally, after being tricked into captivity by a crew full of fraudulent East India agents, the crew would be wary of anyone they came into contact with. Quickly looking Sparrow over, he knew that the sailors would never believe he was an officer in the King's Navy, not with the tattoos and scars, the long bejeweled hair, and the kohl-lined eyes. "Men, I'm afraid that I'm required by Admiralty to keep his identity to myself. Just know that he is a friend of England and his friendship is very important to the King." Prescott nodded and winked at the crew, as though he were disclosing some highly confidential piece of information.
The old sailor's eyes widened, as he knuckled his forehead and joined the other freed captives, apparently eager to exact his revenge on the unsuspecting pirates on deck.
Sparrow's brows had come together and he was regarding Prescott with a bemused smile on his lips. "I could be mistaken, Scotty, but did you jus' imply that I was royalty?"
"Of course not, Your Majesty," Prescott grinned. "I am duty bound to keep your identity a secret."
"You will not cease to amaze," Sparrow said.
"Is that a compliment, My Liege?"
"I'm not sure, yet."
Prescott laughed mischievously as he headed to the stairs. "Let's face it, Sparrow, no one would believe you were in the Royal Navy. You simply don't look the part. These men are common sailors, if they think you are some eccentric royal, they will not ask questions, and if they make it through this alive, they will have quite the tale to tell their wives," Prescott explained, winking again.
Up on deck, Prescott smiled with the satisfaction of a tactician who's plane was working better than he could have hoped. The smaller pirate ship was far enough away from Nefarious so the fighting on deck could not be seen. The freed captives had taken the pirates completely by surprise. The battle was practically over before it began.
Daniels had engaged the man apparently in charge of the guns. For an instant, Prescott worried that the young pirate would not be able to hold his own, due to his injured shoulder. His anxiety was laid aside, however, as he watched Daniels even the odds, neatly slicing off the other man's right arm.
"He's rather adept at disarming his enemies," Sparrow said, smiling with a Captain's pride.
"I think that joke was in poor taste," Prescott said.
"I think that was in poor taste, Your Majesty," the pirate corrected.
Prescott nodded to Sparrow, and the two men headed to take the quarterdeck.
"Do not lay a hand on me again, you son of a – "
Prescott stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of a female voice coming from the quarterdeck. Turning to Sparrow, he could see that the pirate had heard the voice as well.
"It isn't," Sparrow said.
"Oh, yes it is," Prescott scowled.
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The enemy captain was sneering at Ana, running his eyes up and down her body. She shuddered with disgust as she imagined what that vile creature was picturing in his mind's eye.
She had completely ignored her husband's protests. She had raced down the stairs, across the chaotic main deck and caught hold of the rope that she had seen her brother use to cross the water and land on board the pirate ship. Chris had followed her, but arrived too late. She had not taken time to think about her actions. If she considered the intelligence of swinging like Tarzan from ship to ship, she would have realized what a perilous journey she was about to make. So, instead of pondering the pros and cons, Ana simply gripped the rope as tightly as her small hands would allow and propelled herself towards the pirate ship.
The thick smoke from the guns, had prevented Ana from seeing exactly where Prescott had landed on the second ship. Not that she could have controlled the placement of the rope she clung to, anyway. Much to her chagrin, Ana landed in a heap on the pirate's quarterdeck. The sorry excuse for a captain had laughed haughtily as he pulled his new prisoner to her feet.
"Welcome, aboard, m'lady," he said mockingly.
"Do not lay a hand on me again," she warned, using her most menacing tone.
The pirate captain only laughed harder. "Or you'll what?" he questioned.
"I'd advise that you listen to the lady," Ana breathed a deep sigh of relief upon hearing her brother's voice.
The pirate spun around to come face to face with Prescott's drawn pistol.
"You're taken," Sparrow ascended the stairs, sword drawn, behind Prescott. "Do we have your surrender?"
Using some of the most colorful cursing Ana had ever had the occasion to hear, the pirate drew his sword and handed it to Jack, hilt first.
Jack nodded his head and sheathed his blade. "Mr. Daniels," he addressed the young man who had come aboard Interceptor, that Prescott claimed was his sailing master. "Take the captain, and whatever's left of his crew to the hold."
"Aye, Sir," Daniels answered, ushering the older pirate down the stairs.
"Captain Sparrow," Prescott spoke up. "Take us to Nefarious, if you'd be so kind." Ana's eyebrow arched watching Prescott bow as though he were addressing the King himself.
Jack smiled and took hold of the wheel.
"Prescott," Ana spoke up for the first time.
Her brother's blue eyes were instantly back on her face. Raising his hand, he cut off any further words that she may have spoken. "Go to your cabin. Barricade the door," he said, and Ana could tell he was barely keeping himself from losing control. "What about those words was unclear, Annie?"
"I understood perfectly," Ana retorted. "I merely chose to ignore them."
Prescott's fists clenched. Ana had no doubt that if she would have been born a man, Prescott would have leveled her with one punch right then and there. "For the love of God, maybe I should have ordered you to paint a target on your dress and stand in the midst of the thickest fighting! Knowing how well you respond to direction, you almost certainly would have run to your cabin and hid under the bed."
Ana lowered her eyes. He was probably right. "I couldn't stay over there," she said.
"Why the hell not!"
"I need to apologize to you."
Prescott's mouth opened and closed again without uttering a sound. His brows came together and his blue eyes searched her face. "Did it occur to you that now may not have been the best time to seek my forgiveness?"
"I just needed to tell you," Ana insisted. "I didn't want to miss my chance."
Prescott's eyebrows raised. "Meaning that you thought I wasn't coming back? That's quite a vote of confidence, thank you, Annie."
She smiled.
"We're coming up on Nefarious," Jack interrupted.
"Men!" Prescott shouted. "Ready the guns!" Turning back to Ana, Prescott placed his hands on her upper arms. "Please, stay here. Don't move. Don't even think of moving –"
"Prescott," Ana sighed.
"I mean it, Annie. Don't make me wish I lashed you to the wheel."
Ana nodded, casting a glance at the wheel, and the pirate who stood behind, seemingly ignoring her. Smiling inwardly, she wondered if being tied to the wheel would have been such an undesirable fate.
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Prescott practically leapt down the stairs onto the main deck. Annie was infuriating, that was for certain. But, in all truthfulness, he felt she was much safer on this pirate ship with him then back on the Interceptor with that husband of hers. Shaking his head, Prescott focused on the battle at hand.
"Aim for her mainmast, lads," he bellowed. "Cripple her."
"Aye, aye, Sir," the gun crews responded.
This had to work, Prescott thought to himself. There were only five guns lined up on the starboard side of the small pirate vessel. Only five chances to take out Nefarious' mast. If they failed, Nefarious would know they were the enemy and they would not get another chance.
He could barely see the Interceptor through the smoke. She was not returning fire fast enough, and Prescott could imagine the devastation on deck. She had sustained three broadsides from Nefarious in addition to the single round of fire from the ship that Prescott now stood on.
Reaching for the pair of crosses he wore around his neck, he closed his eyes. "Courage, Captain," he mouthed the words to the prayer he had said before every battle since he had become Captain of the Loyalty nearly eight years ago. "Trust in God, and do the right." This had to work.
Opening his eyes, he fixed his stare on the enemy. "Fire as you bear!" he commanded.
The five guns roared as one. The small vessel lurched from the force of the recoil. Every man in the gun crews fell silent, waiting to see if their shots had hit their mark. An eternity passed as Prescott waited for the smoke to clear. Shouting from the deck of Nefarious carried across the water. Prescott held his breath upon hearing the sound of splintering wood. The fog of war lifted just in time for him to see the mainmast break in two and come thundering down to the deck of the enemy ship.
"Well, done lads!" he yelled, but he doubted that his voice was heard over the cheering of the men.
Exhaling finally, the breath he had been holding, Prescott turned to shout his congratulations to Sparrow. His victorious smile quickly faded.
"Where did he come from?" Prescott said aloud.
The pirate stood, his body shielding Anamaria, staring into the barrel of Chris Laffley's drawn pistol.
TBC
Well, to those of you irritated by Ana's recent behavior, I know she acted a bit foolishly this chapter, but at least her heart's back in the right place. That count's for something, doesn't it?
Pendragginink: I'm sure you recognized the bit about Ana in the middle of the fighting with a bullseye on her chest. I read that line in your last review and I couldn't stop laughing. I just had to use it in this story, I hope you don't mind.
Now, please don't leave without sending me a review!