Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I appreciated all your comments as always. Hope you like this update, although I must warn you, it's gonna turn really dark again..
I keep thanking her and Im never going to stop – I love you Julie! Thank you so, so much for all your hard work! Esp as you've been so busy lately, you have no idea of how much I appreciate all you do for me!
OK everyone, on we go! Please, please review!
Pirates of the Caribbean – Back to the Black Pearl.
Chapter 13
The three escapees moved as quickly as they could towards the docks, Jack once again being somewhat dragged between his two young friends. Elizabeth was tiring and Will knew the situation was not improving for them. Nervously, he made frequent glances over his shoulder, always expecting to see an army of soldiers materializing out of the darkness behind them. Jack's breathing was becoming softer and Will knew he wouldn't be able to go on for much longer.
"We're almost there, Jack." Will hissed to the pirate, and then added, "Just a bit further."
The only reply or sign that Jack heard was a low moan from the injured pirate. Will couldn't help his own instantaneous response. Teeth clenched, once again the blacksmith was overcome with anger at those responsible for his pirate-friends' condition. Silently, he vowed that he'd find out who had done this and when he did…God help the bastard.
Elizabeth let out a startled gasp and almost tripped over. All three of the party stumbled, Will only just ensuring that Jack stayed on his feet.
"Watch what you are doing Elizabeth!" Will snapped at her, not even attempting to hide his anger.
Elizabeth closed her eyes. "Hurts Will," she mumbled.
Will was now close to despair. "We're nearly there!" He urged her.
Out of ear shot of both his companions, he then whispered a prayer into the night:
"Please let us be nearly there."
Dawson stood with a small number of his men, issuing orders. As he spoke, he stole a quick look towards the darkness. With a knot of dread, one he fought hard to hide, he knew the Admiral would be with them at any moment and then there would be no more stalling for time. Dawson could only hope that he had bought Jack and his friends enough time to get the hell out of Port Mary. For a second, Ben actually envied them.
"The Admirals orders are clear, men," Dawson was saying, "The escaped pirate, Jack Sparrow, is to be recaptured tonight at all costs. Now, we don't know how he escaped or who helped him and why, but we can only assume that they are desperate and dangerous. Just remember, the Admiral wants Sparrow alive."
With an icy glare, he met each man's eyes in hope that he could press the seriousness of the last point. If Sparrow and his cohorts where found, which Ben sent fervent and silent prayers that they would not be, he truly hoped they would be unharmed. However, he doubted the likelihood that there'd be another opportunity to escape again.
"Lets not give our Admiral any more reason to fret tonight men," Dawson said softly. "Lets locate this pirate. Go to your stations and wait there for further instructions. Dismissed!."
The soldiers saluted their Captain and then marched away. Dawson let out a sigh of relief. So far, he'd bluffed very successfully, but he knew it wasn't his men where the challenge lay. No, the true challenge had yet to arrive… Admiral Morris.
Indeed, convincing Morris would be the most difficult test this night. Dawson only hoped that he'd not let slip too much to the commander over the last few weeks, his doubts as to Sparrow's treatment. Morris, Ben was sure, was not quite right in his head and Ben had to watch his step or he'd never have the chance to voice his concerns of the man's command to the Admiralty.
"Captain Dawson! Report!"
Dawson's heart sank when he heard the hated voice. 'Here goes nothing,' he thought to himself and turned to welcome his very agitated Admiral.
Morris stormed up to Dawson with a face like thunder, Sturt just behind him.
"How did it happen Captain?" Morris spat, his fists clenched. He was almost trembling with anger. "How did that damned pirate escape?"
Dawson flicked his head. "Sir?" He enquired.
"It was your watch, man!" Morris shouted, "I left you in charge!"
The furious Admiral gestured wildly to Sturt. "The Lieutenant here has advised me that Sparrow's friends must have sneaked right past you, Dawson! Just before they knocked Sturt out and released his prisoner. What have you to say for yourself?"
Dawson shrugged. "Well sir, you must then forgive me, but I felt that Sturt was not only in charge of the jail but he also seemed more than capable of guarding Sparrow." Sturt let out a low snarl as he regarded Dawson with his piggy little eyes. "Therefore, if there is blame here, then surely it should fall at his door, Sir," he finished, with a polite nod.
Morris watched Dawson for a moment, the dislike growing on his face.
"How has the search gone?" He enquired.
"I'm afraid the men have found nothing so far, Admiral. I have had them search the entire Port."
"These people could not just disappear!" Morris was almost beside himself. "Who have you instructed to guard the docks? Is that not surely where these scum would head?"
Morris swallowed. It was all or nothing. "I checked the docks myself only five minutes before you arrived, Admiral."
Sturt raised an eyebrow and Morris turned to slowly behold the captain.
"I feel, Captain," Morris said softly, "that unless our birds have sprouted wings, the docks will be where they are heading. I can only assume that have a boat. Do you not agree?"
Dawson didn't respond. A nasty smile flickered onto Sturts lips.
"Sturt!" Morris barked and Sturt quickly stood to attention. "Gather as many men as you can find and head to the docks immediately. Sparrow is in no state to get anywhere quickly. We may yet head off his escape."
The horrible man saluted his Admiral and then hurried away.
Morris eyed Dawson for a moment and then said softly:
"Awful business Ben," Morris said pleasantly. Dawson nodded. "Not to worry though," the brutish man continued, "We'll catch them."
Dawson forced himself to smile. "I should assist Sturt in herding up the men, Admiral," Ben said quietly. Morris smiled.
"No need, my boy." Morris told him, "I think Sturt is capable. We should go to the docks now." Gesturing for the Captain to move off ahead of him he added with a smile: "After you?"
Dawson nervously returned the smile, saluted and then walked away. Morris watched him for a moment and then followed after him without a word.
Dawson and Morris arrived at their destination a few moments later. Ben was relieved to discover that no boat was docked; Jack and his companions must have had enough time. There was no sign of them.
Morris scanned the area in silence.
"Nothing," he mumbled, staring out to sea. "It's so calm."
"Yes, sir," Dawson agreed. "No boats or ships. Perhaps Sparrow is hiding somewhere inland?"
Morris didn't look at the Captain. "Perhaps," he echoed.
Dawson continued, "Shall I organize I search of every home, once Sturt arrives with the men?"
The admiral nodded. He was still staring straight ahead. Dawson couldn't make out his expression through the darkness but he could imagine.
"Escaped." Morris said softly, "escaped from me."
Before Dawson could reply, there was a shout from behind them, "Admiral Morris!"
Morris whirled round to see Sturt rushing towards him. He had a small number of men with him, only three or four, all with muskets and pistols drawn. Dawson was surprised to see he also had a local with him, a fisherman by the look of him.
"Admiral, sir, I sent most of the men back," Sturt said with a wild look in his eyes. "We won't be needing them."
Morris frowned. "And why is that?"
Sturt was excited. It panicked Dawson. "This man, sir."
"What about him?" He snapped, now impatient.
"Let him tell you his story, sir." Sturt flung the terrified man forward, "Go on then boy, speak!"
The frightened man beheld the ranked men in front of him with frightened eyes. He seemed young and simple to Dawson, possibly not even twenty years old.
"What is your name?" Morris barked.
"T---Tom Brass, sir," the young man stammered. "I'm a fisherman, Admiral."
"You are fishing late tonight, Tom," Morris said with suspicion.
"Yes sir, sorry sir." Tom murmured. "Best time for fish, sir, quiet y'see. Well, normally quiet."
Morris looked up sharply. "Something happened tonight did it Tom, something unusual?"
Tom nodded harshly. "Aye sir, it did. There was three of 'em , all came running out of the town like devils, they did sir. Just like devils.." Tom let out a violent shake.
Morris nodded. "Continue."
"There was a ship docked. I thought it was one of yourn, but now, I know it weren't." Tom paused, not used to have attention off of men like Morris. "They all got aboard, two of them helping one other, dodgy looking fellow he was. Seemed 'urt.." Tom shrugged. "Then, they sailed away. Looked to be in quite a hurry, come to think on it."
"How long ago was this?" Morris interrupted.
"Erm, must 'ave been a good ten minutes ago, Admiral, maybe longer."
Morris smiled. "Thank you, Tom. You've done very well."
Tom gave the Admiral a big cheery smile. Morris walked up to the fisherman and offered his hand, which Tom gladly took. In the next second, taking all those present by surprise, Morris pulled his pistol, pointed it at Tom's head and pulled the trigger. Blood and brains spurted everywhere and Tom fell to one side without having a chance to make a sound.
Dawson and Sturt jumped in unison, recoiling from the sudden attack. It was Sturt who recovered fastest as a slow evil grin slid across his face. Dawson simply stared in silence, looking from Sturt to Morris, then back at the body lying at their feet.
Dead. Killed by the man he trusted as a leader, simply because he had seen too much. Then there was the look on Sturt's face. It sickened the young captain to note how the evil man didn't look at all concerned by what the admiral had just done. On the contrary, he seemed to have enjoyed it. He forced himself to look away.
Morris glared down at the dead man with distaste. "Unfortunately, Tom," he said in a quiet hiss at the dead man, "I could never allow you to share your story again." With a sigh, Morris turned to the men behind Sturt who were all looking shaken and scared.
"Take him back to the town." Morris snapped. "We will then need to explain to our people how the infamous Jack Sparrow claimed another victim."
The soldiers hurried over to Tom's body and picked him up. Morris held up a hand, halting them. "I don't have to ask you not to mention this to a soul, do I?" They all shook their heads and told him no. Morris nodded and then waved at them to continue. The guards then carried the dead man away into the night, leaving just Morris, Sturt and Dawson alone.
Morris watched them go and once they were out of sight, he turned and walked slowly towards Dawson. Sturt eyed his Admiral hungrily, enjoying the tension.
"Perhaps you could explain to me Ben," Morris said in a low voice, "if you checked the docks as you said, just before myself and Sturt arrived; how did you not witness our friends escaping?"
Dawson shook his head in reply. He didn't trust himself to answer. He knew he had a problem.
Morris was now stood directly in front of Dawson. "Well Ben?" He asked again, in the same dangerous low voice.
"There was nothing here when I searched earlier, sir." Dawson whispered.
Morris smirked. "I think you are lying to me, captain. In fact, I don't think you searched the docks at all."
Dawson shook his head and went to open his mouth but Morris interrupted him.
"Actually, I think you helped Sparrow and his associates get away. I think you deliberately positioned the men out of harms way, allowing Sparrow his chance to escape. I think you have committed treason, Captain Dawson. What do you have to say?"
Dawson stared at Morris. "I assure you, sir, I am not a traitor!"
Morris chuckled. "That's exactly what you are, sir."
Before Dawson could react, Morris held out his hand and Sturt immediately passed him a pistol. Then, without warning or preamble, Morris fired, hitting the captain in his lower right leg.
Ben let out a howl of agony and fell to the ground, clutching his leg. The ground soon became drenched in thick red blood. Through his haze of pain, Dawson eyes went from Morris to Sturt. He saw no mercy on either man's face.
Morris glared down at Dawson as he passed the pistol back to Sturt who then proceeded to reload it.
"Where are they heading, Ben?" Morris demanded. Kneeling down next to the injured Captain, he appeared almost sympathetic. Almost.
Dawson saw the cold calm in the Admiral's eyes and all his suspicions concerning the commander were brought to fruition. A cold lance of fear speared his heart and he swallowed. Quietly, he murmured, "You're mad!"
Morris leaned closer, then said evenly, "Now, now, Ben," he said leaning purposefully on the bullet wound and inflicting more pain on the younger man. "No need to be uncivil." Taking his hand off the leg, Ben sucked in gulps of air, perspiration soaking his face. "In fact, there's no need for your proud family to lose a good son, Ben," Placing a hand on Dawson's shoulder, "This can be covered up, but only if you help me."
Dawson sincerely doubted this. No matter what, Morris would never hold to his bargain and his life would be forfeit… Closing his eyes, pain coursing through his leg, tears tricked down his face.
"Now, Captain Dawson, tell me where they are headed."
Ben swallowed and opened his eyes to meet the evil brute's gaze. Fiery hate consumed him. Knowing this meant the end of his career, quite possibly his life, Dawson merely spat into the other mans leering face. Morris' recoil was reward enough.
"I've no idea," he hissed painfully at Morris. "And even if I did, you would be the last person I told. You're not fit for command."
Unable to contain his emotions, Morris howled in anger and rose abruptly to his feet. In a fit of rage, Morris then brought his booted foot down hard on Dawson's bullet wound. The younger man screamed and writhed in agony. Sturt looked towards the town nervously, fearing someone would hear the commotion. Morris though, didn't even pause.
"You're a fool," Morris growled, leaning right over Dawson, continuing his agony. "You deserve your fate." He moved away from the helpless Captain, snatched the pistol from Sturt and turned, gun armed.
"Don't worry Ben, I'll be sure to give your sister much comfort," and with that, the bastard fired. This time, the bullet went straight through Dawson's temple, killing him outright. The lifeless body of Captain Dawson fell limply to the ground, his eyes staring straight ahead.
Both Morris and Sturt watched him for a moment. Sturt spoke first.
"Another victim for Jack Sparrow, Admiral?"
Morris glanced at Sturt. "No," he replied. "Why give the bastard a honourable death? We will explain Dawson's death exactly as it happened. The man was caught assisting Jack Sparrow in his escape. He was shot for treason. THAT is how Dawson will be remembered."
Sturt smiled. "Should we inform the family now?"
"Yes, I suppose we should. And that simpleton Brass, his family needs to be made aware too. I'll see to it."
Sturt nodded.
"I have been pleased with your conduct tonight, mister" Morris commented, causing Sturt to stand at his full height proudly. "You have proved yourself to me many times, not just your actions concerning Dawson but also your inspired breaking of Sparrow tonight, such a pity he had to escape this night, after all of your hard work!" Sturt smirked but didn't reply.
Morris continued. "I appreciate your loyalty. If you would be so good as to ready the Magestic and prepare a crew for her. We need to be on our way as soon as possible, Captain Sturt."
Sturt's head had snapped round to Morris when he had heard the word "captain." He stared at Morris for a moment, not believing, then, his face broke into a huge smile.
"Aye aye, Sir," he said and saluted and then added, "thank you, sir."
Morris nodded and returned the salute. "Off you go, Captain," he instructed Sturt and the other man rushed off, a spring in his step. It really had been a most successful night for Bobby Sturt.
The Admiral watched the other man rush off with an amused smile on his lips. Sturt was a cretin but he was useful to him, particularly after what Sturt had described to him earlier concerning Jack Sparrow.
Morris' gaze returned to the sea. "You can run, Jack," Morris told the night. "But you won't get away from me that easily. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth, I swear."
And with that, Morris turned and walked away, whistling a happy tune. He didn't even bother to give the prone figure of Dawson one last glance.
TBC