Okay folks, this is it – the final chapter!

XI. REVENGE

Darkness descended upon the bilge. Jack grimaced, blinked…then squinted painfully as the hatch was opened and light poured in. A pistol appeared, followed by a head. Harry Covenant's.

"Well, Sparrow," Harry said, a self-satisfied smirk on his burned face. "I suggest you make your peace with whatever god you believe in. You'll be seeing him soon." With that, he levelled the gun at Jack's heart.

"You just going to shoot me, Harry?" Jack asked, quite calmly, given there was a gun pointed at his chest, even as his mind cast about for a way out. "What happened to hanging me from the yardarm?"

"I decided hanging's too good for you. Now haul your sorry backside out of there or I will shoot you."

Once up on deck, Jack paused. The early morning light, though muted by the storm clouds overhead, still hurt. He blinked eyes too long used to the gloom of the bilge, waiting for them to adjust. His headache felt worse than ever and he winced. Jack didn't want to die with a headache. Actually, he didn't want to die at all. Not for a very, very long time…

At least the worst of the storm appeared to be over. Spatters of rain still fell and the Revenge was rolling heavily under Jack's feet, but the clouds, driven by the wind, were heading away to the east. The sun was just visible, hanging low on the horizon. It was going to be a glorious day.

Jack only hoped he would live to see it.

The Revenge had weighed anchor in a narrow cove of an island – Jack wasn't sure which one. White sand, swaying palm trees, some rocks away off to starboard – no different from the hundred or more just like it that Jack had seen during his travels.

Well, maybe there was one difference. This one might just mark his grave.

The business end of a musket was shoved into Jack's back, and he took a hasty step forward, almost tripping over one of the many barrels littering the deck. As he paused, something heavy hit him on the right knee. Hard. Jack staggered and grabbed the ship's rail, barely managing to stay on his feet. Then it, whatever it was, hit him again and he did go down, clutching his knee in agony.

"Get up." Harry's voice was cold as ice.

Jack blinked up at him, realising that the man behind him – the bosun, he remembered – had just clouted him with the blunt end of a marlinespike. For a moment he fervently wished people would stop hitting him. Still, it was better than being shot – marginally.

"Get up," Harry said again.

With an effort, Jack climbed back to his feet, using the barrel to lever himself up, and tested his knee. It still bent in the right direction, so the bosun probably hadn't done any lasting damage – which was good since he preferred his limbs intact – he was funny that way. The pirate shoved Jack in the back and he limped onward, coming to a halt at last near the mainmast.

"Now what, Harry?" he asked, turning to face the captain of the Revenge.

Harry smiled. It was a cold smile and it sent an icy shiver down Jack's back. "Tie 'is hands."

A pirate stepped forward with a length of rope. Jack shot a quick, covert glance at Bridges, standing nearby. 'If you're going to do anything to help,' he thought, 'now's the opportune time.'

Bridges did not move. With a sigh, Jack held his hands out before him, wincing as the rope bit into his skin. His options were diminishing fast.

Once Jack was bound, some of the tension seemed to go out of Harry Covenant. He stepped forward, shoved his pistol into the front of his belt, and put his arm – the one that worked - around Jack's shoulders. "So, Jack, me lad. It's been quite a while. Do ye know how long I've been searching for you?"

"Five years?" Jack hazarded.

"Aye. Five years. Never believed ye was dead, ye see. It was… When was it Hardy?"

"A year later." The First Mate answered, his voice flat as if he had heard this all too often. He probably had.

"A year later," Harry mused. "A whole year. Why, even I'd begun to wonder if maybe I was wrong, if maybe you really had died when I blew your filthy ship out of the water and spat on its wreckage!"

His voice raised on the last, until he was shouting, spittle flying from his lips.

Then his anger vanished as quickly as it had come, and he patted Jack absently on the shoulder. Jack held himself very still, trying not to breathe. Harry continued, his words smooth and calm now, wearing a smile that did not reach his single good eye. "A year later. Aye, that's when I heard the tale of a certain Captain Sparrow, what had sacked Nassau without ever firing a single shot. Quite a feat, that. Care to tell me how you did it? Some rumours had you impersonating a priest…"

Jack answered carefully. "It's a long story, Harry."

A look of genuine disappointment crossed Covenant's face. "Ah. Pity. We don't have no time for long stories today. Nor short ones, neither." He leaned closer, until his nose was almost touching Jack's. "D'ye know what I'm going to do to you, Jack Sparrow?"

Jack shook his head slightly, staring into Harry's eye and feeling somewhat like a mouse that had just stumbled across a cobra. "Let me go?" he tried gallantly.

Harry drew back and laughed. It was a long, wild laugh that grew higher and higher until it was practically a scream. Jack's blood went cold. The man was mad. Utterly and completely raving. One ship shy of an armada.

He was in bigger trouble than he thought.

"That's what I like about you, Jack Sparrow…" Harry's laughter drifted away and the mirth faded from his expression. "No. No there's nothing I like about you." His eye narrowed. "I'm going to have my revenge on you, Jack," he whispered glacially. "Five long years I've waited, and now I'm goin' to watch you suffer."

Behind Harry, Jack could see Bridges, stepping carefully to the side, one hand going to the pistol in his belt. 'Hurry up,' Jack thought desperately, taking care not draw any attention to what the man was doing.

Harry never moved. His eye never left Jack's. A brief moment passed – and then Harry straightened, and said in the crisp tones Jack remembered from the old days, on those occasions when Harry wasn't three sheets to the wind:

"Mr Bridges!"

Bridges started, his hand jerking away from his pistol…and in one smooth movement, so fast that Jack could hardly believe a crippled man could move like that, Harry spun, pulled his gun, and fired it. The shot echoed through the Revenge…and Bridges toppled like a felled tree, an expression of astonishment on his face.

Through it all, no one moved. Even when Bridges hit the deck with a crash, nobody stirred….except the Revenge's Captain. Pausing only to toss the smoking pistol aside, he seized a handful of Jack's shirt with his right hand…and lifted. Jack's feet didn't quite leave the deck, but it was a near thing. He had forgotten just how strong Harry was. Covenant leaned forward again and said in a soft, but deadly voice:

"I'm going to put you in one of the long boats and set fire to you, you bastard. And then I'm going to watch you burn."

Okay. Time to think of a new plan. Unfortunately, Jack's mind seemed to have gone completely blank. Harry's threat… Through the years, Jack had seen some pretty nasty things, but that was… It was… Actually, there weren't any words to describe what it was.

Slowly though, his mind began to come back to life. Jack had survived a lot – the bullet from the excise men's gun that could have killed him when he was twelve; the sinking of the Mary Ellen, and the Bloody Cutlass; Barbossa's mutiny and his subsequent marooning; being adrift all that time after the Victory had gone down; the curse of the Aztec Gold, plus more captures and narrow escapes than he cared to think about – Jack Sparrow had survived them all. He would find a way out of this. He would. All he needed was a plan.

Right. Bridges was dead. That meant he was on his own. So… An idea flickered through Jack's mind and he stilled. It was either brilliant or suicidal. Possibly both. But it just might work. All he needed was a distraction. Just one little distraction and…

Harry, still holding Jack by the shirt, had turned and was barking out orders to haul the tarps off one of the boats…and at that moment a cannonball arced high over the Revenge then ploughed into the rough seas on the port side. Everyone froze, just for an instant, then they swung around…to see the H.M.S. Dauntless appearing like a ghost directly out of the dawn sun, swooping around the island under full sail and heading straight for the Revenge. There was a stunned silence, then a howl went up. Harry's.

"No! Not now!"

But his crew was already leaping for sails and anchor, trying desperately to get the pirate ship back under way. Jack didn't waste time wondering how or why the Dauntless had found them. He had asked for a distraction and here it was. Act now, question later. Even as Harry's fingers loosened, Jack jerked himself backwards then swung both bound fists at Harry's face. The larger man staggered under the impact, but did not go down. Jack was already moving, diving across the deck toward Bridge's fallen body. Behind him, Harry roared incoherently, like an angry bull. Hardy was shouting out orders as fast as he could and all around was bedlam as the sails began to go up. No one even noticed Jack….except for Harry. But Covenant was by now half a dozen paces behind Jack. He limped hurriedly toward Jack, his cane upraised…and Jack's hand closed around the pistol at Bridge's waist. He pulled it free with a jerk, rolled under the cane that came flashing down toward him…and came up shooting.

The barrel went up with a whoosh, the force of the explosion sending Jack and everyone else flying. Even as he rolled backward and crashed to the deck, a satisfied smile crossed Jack's face. Gunpowder. The barrel was obviously waiting to be stored safely down below. It should have been done first thing, rather than left up on the deck.

But then, Harry always was a bloody awful pirate.

Slowly, ears ringing, Jack lifted his head from where he was sprawled on his back…and saw utter chaos. The port side of the Revenge was on fire, flames licking along her deck and rail, leaping up to catch the closest sails. Most of the crew were still stunned, only now beginning to pick themselves up from the deck. As for Harry, there was no sign of him – he might have been thrown into the hold by the force of the explosion, or knocked overboard. Jack couldn't find it in him to care. Right now he just wanted to avoid both the fire and capture by the Dauntless. After all, it would be more than a little ironic if Covenant's threat came true and he ended up dying in the flames.

All around him, Harry's men seemed to be coming to the same conclusion as Jack. Some rushed forward to try to put out the fire, even though Jack could see that it was futile. The flames had too good a hold. The un-watered deck was going up like a tinderbox. The rest of the crew were still trying to get the ship moving, in a vain attempt to avoid the Dauntless.

That was twice now. Twice Jack had set fire to Harry's ship. This was becoming a habit. There was still no sign of Covenant, and the Dauntless was coming on fast, steering toward them at an oblique angle to cut off any attempt at escape. The Revenge was moving now, albeit slowly. The crew had managed to turn her toward the open ocean and she was beginning to gain a little speed before the wind. It wouldn't be enough, though. There was no way she could avoid the Dauntless, even if she weren't on fire. Even as Jack watched, two more cannonballs drove into the Revenge's sides. 'You should save your shot, mate,' Jack thought savagely as he hauled himself to his feet. Sooner or later, this ship was going down, with the Dauntless' help…or without. Dragging his gaze away, Jack found a nearby cutlass, dropped in the confusion, sliced his bonds…and nearly took off a finger as the thought struck him:

No way that she could avoid the Dauntless.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the last thing he wanted to do. Jack turned and dove for the wheel, leaping a burning rope that lay on the deck. The flames were spreading fast – even as he moved, the fire leapt from the sails on the mainmast to the mizzenmast, uncomfortably close to him. Great gouts of smoke, blown by the last of the storm winds, wafted across the water, obscuring the Dauntless.

Jack shouldered the pirate at the wheel aside, who abandoned his post quite happily. Jack heard a faint splash behind him, then he was spinning the wheel and turning the Revenge….directly toward the Dauntless' bow.

The Revenge still answered the helm, bless her, and slowly they came about. Another waft of smoke poured forth, hiding her progress from the Dauntless, at least for the moment. Several long seconds passed while Jack held the wheel…and his breath. Behind him he could hear flames crackling and there was a crash as something fell to the deck – the mizzen top yard. All around him, there were more splashes as the pirates began to take to the water.

Jack was just beginning to wonder if he had miscalculated his course, when there came a mighty crashing sound, and a shudder ran the length of the ship, throwing Jack forward so that the wheel dug into his stomach. The smoke cleared briefly, and a wave of exultation went through Jack. His course had been true – the Revenge's bowsprit had smashed through the Dauntless' mainshrouds and brought her mainmast toppling down in a flurry of wood splinters. The Revenge's foremast too, came crashing down, and the combined impact brought the two ships closer, their remaining yards locked together. Jack had to stifle the insane desire to giggle – it was perfect. The Dauntless was in no danger of sinking, and even though some flames had already leapt from one ship to the other, the warship had enough hands to ensure the fire would not spread – well, probably - but she was essentially crippled. It would be hours, if not days, before she could extricate herself from this mess.

The smoke cleared again, just for an instant, and Jack found himself meeting the gaze of Commodore Norrington. The man's eyebrows shot up as he realised who stood at the wheel of the pirate ship. Jack swept off his hat with a flourish and waved it in a mocking salute at the Commodore. Then he turned and raced toward the nearest long boat, as fast as his injured knee could carry him.

He wasn't out of danger yet. There was still a chance the men of the Dauntless would chase after him, although they had bigger problems to deal with just now. Even if they left him and the pirate crew alone, Jack had no idea where he was. It was possible that Harry's men could steer them back to the shipping lanes in one of the boats. Otherwise, all he had done was delay the inevitable. If he could just launch the boat, with whatever men were left on the pirate sloop, he could pick up the men in the water. If they all rowed together, they just might…

A hand suddenly appeared out of the smoke, locking onto Jack's wrist. He froze, turned his head…and met the mad gaze of Harry Covenant.

There was no hint of sanity left on Harry's face, no remnant of the man he used to be. Only hatred and fury burned in his single eye. His body was mottled with smoke and soot, and blood ran down the side of his scarred face where a flying splinter must have caught him. Despite this, Harry grinned, his teeth looking surprisingly bright against his blackened face, and said softly:

"Goin' somewhere, Jack?"

Jack tried to pull away, but it was like trying to prise off a limpet. Harry's fingers clenched around him even tighter until Jack would have sworn he felt the bones of his wrist grinding together.

"Let go, Harry," Jack said, as reasonably as he could manage. "We have to abandon ship."

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I think we'll just stay here a while and burn together. 'Tis fitting, don't you think?"

No, he bloody well didn't! Jack gritted his teeth then slammed the fist of his free hand into Harry's face. He might as well have been hitting a brick wall for all the good it did. The man simply shook his head, spat out a mouthful of blood, and smiled slowly.

"It's going to take more than that, lad."

He was right. Jack really didn't have the time for this. The smoke was searing his lungs, making breathing nigh impossible. The long boat he had been heading for had already gone up in flames, and there was another crash nearby as the main yard came down in a shower of sparks. The Revenge was crumbling around him. He had to get off her…now.

Jack's gaze dropped…to fall on the cutlass in Harry's belt. Harry looked downward too, then they both looked up, their gazes meeting one last time. A flicker of alarm broke through the madness in Harry's face, and he tried to lift his crippled left arm, to reach for the cutlass. It didn't move. Realisation blossomed on his face.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Jack said quietly. "I never intended any of this." Then, with one smooth motion, he drew Harry's cutlass and plunged it into Covenant's stomach. Harry's eyes widened, a look of – was that regret? – crossing his face, and then he was falling. For a moment he still managed to hold onto his foe's wrist. Jack was dragged forward, nearly falling, before he managed to tear free at last. Then, coughing and blinded, Jack turned and limped toward the starboard rail, where, for the second time in five years, he flung himself over the Revenge's side, madly clutching his hat.

Jack hit the water hard. By the time he surfaced and coughed up a lungful of smoke and seawater, the locked ships had drifted a few feet away from him. He looked up, peering through the billows of smoke and flame…and thought he saw the shape of a man, limping across the deck, his left arm dangling and useless. But then the smoke thickened again, and Jack decided he must have imagined it. Lungs burning and limbs shaking, Jack turned and began to swim away.

The waters were surprisingly full. Most of the pirate crew had made it safely over the side, and apparently one or two of the Navy men had gone over too when the ships had collided. In fact, it was getting decidedly crowded. Jack was treading water some distance away, wondering what his next move should be…when a shout went up from one of the pirates. Jack turned…

…and smiled.

It was the Black Pearl, bearing down on them from the east, her sails backlit by the rising sun. A lovelier sight he had never seen. Even as he watched, he could see his crew beginning to strike her sails, obviously not wanting to get too close. Not that the Dauntless could harm his darling, he noted with satisfaction. The warship's guns were facing the wrong direction. The best the Navy might manage now was a few shots from her sternchasers. Still, best not to give them a chance. Wincing at the pain the movement caused him, Jack struck out toward the waiting Pearl, as did most of the survivors from the Revenge.

"Scurvy looking bunch," Gibbs said some time later as they stood on the deck of the Pearl, while Jack tried to wring the water out of his hair. Jack looked up and followed Gibbs' gaze. Yes, the former crew of the Revenge definitely looked rather the worse for wear. There was no question of inviting them to join Jack's crew. Most of them had been on board either the Fearless or the Victory, that day five years ago. 'Betray me once,' Jack thought grimly, 'shame on you…' No, he would dump the lot of them at very the first port they came to. Speaking of…

"How'd you catch up so fast?" he asked, looking over Gibb's shoulder where the stranded Dauntless was growing ever smaller in the distance.

Gibbs rubbed his ear. "We put into Shandling Bay. Did some quick repairs, got the old girl going again."

"Aye," AnaMaria added from her position at the wheel, "and then the storm blew us straight here. 'Twas naught but an accident we happened by when we did."

Jack suppressed a grin. "Course it was. Lucky for me though, wasn't it?"

AnaMaria snorted. "Lucky? Hmmph. You won't think it lucky when we tell you what this rescue is going to cost you – Captain." There was a faint hint of a smile on her lips though, belying the sting of her words. She stepped back from the wheel as Jack limped over to it, taking his rightful place once more. A feeling of contentment washed over him. It felt like coming home. He was back where he belonged. Again.

"So," he said distantly, most of his attention on his ship, not the conversation. "What's it going to cost me?"

"I'm thinking eighty percent of your share from the next prize we take," she replied.

"Twenty."

AnaMaria chuckled darkly. "We'll talk." Then she left the quarterdeck and headed toward the bow, glaring at the Revenge's pirates as she passed them. Gibbs moved to follow her, then hesitated and glanced back at Jack.

"So, Jack – be there any more surprises in your past that'll come back and bite us on the arse?"

Jack stilled, the memories he had relived through the long night in the darkened bilge flickering through his mind again…then he looked over at Gibbs and grinned. "I wouldn't be surprised, mate."

Gibbs sighed, shook his head, and walked away, leaving Jack at the wheel.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised," Jack said again quietly.

Then he cocked his lucky hat at a jaunty angle, and fixed his eyes on the beckoning horizon. There were ships out there, and prizes ripe for the taking. He gave the wheel a spin, turning the Pearl toward the northeast and the Spanish shipping lanes.

After all, it wouldn't do to keep them waiting.

THE END

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