Apologies for anyone following this for how long it's taken me to update... and the inevitable spelling mistakes that seem to crop up not matter how many times I read through the chapter.

And once again I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean etc...

Chapter 5

"And then what?"

"What?"

"Well ye can't just leave it on ye writin' a letter te ye sister, mate."

"I'd have thought you knew the rest Jack. After all, you know about this ship don't you?"

"I know of the ship mate, but I told ye, I've been sailin' down Rio an' South America. Don' know a lot o' what's been goin' off but what frightened Spaniards can tell me. Which ain't a lot te tell ye the truth. An' besides, might 'ave picked ye up on Jamaica - "

"Actually I've been meaning to ask you about that. What were you doing there?"

"Could ask ye the same question mate. Heard on me way back up te Tortuga there were a rum run goin' on. Thought I'd stop by an' ave a look – not 'ad a decent drink since I left. Nasty stuff what they make down there."

James smiled slightly. "Well you were right. Except we got caught."

"You -?" It wasn't often someone surprised Jack, but evidently James had managed it.

"Yes. Only way to get people to trust you in Tortuga is to get involved in their business unfortunately, and one of the only things open when I arrived in Tortuga was to join a gang of rumrunners. Sometimes even that doesn't work. The only solid thing I've found out about this ship is that it isn't just targeting British, or even French or Spanish. It's going after pirate ships too. The funny thing is though, I thought nobody in Tortuga would care."

"Well they would be. S'like the Pearl all over again, back in the day an' no one knew who'd be next. 'Spect ye remember what it were like."

James unfortunately did. He'd seen too many good ships lost, both merchant and navy when the Pearl had been under Barbossa's control and now it was happening all over again.

> > > > >

James and the two others that'd survived the capture of the smuggling party were dragged through the dark streets to what passed for the jail in this town.

Only once had James tried to run for it, encouraged by the others of his party, and he'd paid for it. He'd bolted around a corner and straight into a returning squad of marines.

The marine sergeant promptly swung the butt of his musket across James's face, splitting his cheek and dazing him to the point where the marines had beaten and kicked him until he'd managed to get to his feet again.

When he bloody got his job back he'd be having a word with the officers in charge of the law in this town. He never encouraged this sort of behaviour in the marines in Port Royal, and had hoped it didn't occur out of his sight either until he came here. Perhaps he'd been to naïve and idealistic.

The three of them were tossed into separate jail cells and left alone. Three people. Just like the three buried at sea not too long ago.

Well, here was a position he'd never been in, on the other side of the bars. Not much different from those in Fort Charles.

He tore up some of his shirtsleeve to attempt to stem the flow of blood from his cheek and waited, listening to the flow of talk from Peter and Walt.

"Maybe we could…"

"Nah. Never work…"

"What if…?"

Was this all that pirates talked about in jail? Means of escape? Or would it soon degenerate into desperation?

He gingerly felt his ribs. He was no surgeon, but his best guess would be that he'd wake up tomorrow covered in bruises. Only time would tell if the marines had caused any serious damage.

They were left alone long enough to watch the sunrise, and watch its course through the bright blue Jamaican sky. James shifted himself out of the glare filtering through the bars on the 'window'. Clearly they hadn't decided what to do with the three of them yet; dawn was the usual time for hanging and that had passed hours ago. Still, the only way of knowing the passage of time was the sun, and James was an experienced enough sailor to roughly tell the time from it. About midday, they were graced by the company of two marines, bringing the basic rations of bread and water.

James stirred himself.

"You." He bluntly addressed the marine placing the bowl next to his cell. The marine glared at him.

"Look, all I want is to speak with the officer in charge here. I have something I need to tell him." The marines looked at each other dubiously.

"Now." He added in a more commanding tone. Something more suited to his days as Commodore.

It seemed to convince the marines though. The two of them left as though they'd been ordered to.

"Ye know Adam, when ye want to, ye really can put on a fancy accent. Anyone'd think ye really were one o' them." Walt gestured viciously in the direction of the door.

James merely smiled and leaned his head back on the wall of the cell.

> > > >

It was several hours before the marines returned and hauled him from his cell. He was dragged through the hallways and into a small office with its window facing out to the West and a magnificent view of the deep red of the setting sun. A small fire flickered in a hearth despite the lingering heat of the day, and casting odd shadows around the room.

He'd have never have thought it would happen but he'd actually spent the entire daylight hours of a day inside a cell.

James faced the man seated behind the desk in front of him. A mere Lieutenant, but then this town was only a small garrison and didn't require the attentions of a higher-ranking officer. He glanced up as James was prodded into position in front of the desk.

In truth, James was starting to think this wasn't such a good idea. He'd been sat down in a cramped position all day, and truth be told, he hadn't exactly recovered from his beating the night before. Consequently, he was swaying slightly on his feet before this man.

"Well? What is it then?" The Lieutenant demanded.

"I don't suppose it's too much to ask to speak with you alone?"

"You guessed right, pirate. Now hurry up, or I'll have you sent back to your cell and it'll be the gallows for the lot of you tomorrow."

Tomorrow? Damn. He thought quickly. God only knew how to say this.

"Look, there's been a big misunderstanding. I haven't done anything wrong. I'm James Norrington."

The Lieutenant gave a small, mirthless smirk worthy of himself just over a year ago.

"Nice try, pirate, but I'm not so easily fooled. Commodore Norrington is away in Antigua at the present time. Who are you?"

James was unable to keep his temper in check and slammed his fist on the desk. He was immediately dragged back by the marine guard.

"But that's the point! I'm not away in Antigua, I'm under orders and I'm here!" The Lieutenant nodded at the marines, one of which immediately cracked him round the head with his musket, the other kneeing him in the stomach while he was dazed and causing him to double over.

"Now." The Lieutenant said. "I'll ask you again. Who are you? What is your true name?"

Seeing no choice, James croaked out, "Adam Locke."

"There. That wasn't so hard was it?" The Lieutenant said, nodding to the clerk James hadn't noticed in the shadows of the corner of the room.

"He's not here. No warrents, no prices." The clerk told the men in the room.

The Lieutenant sighed. "Then I suppose we'll have to let him go."

Nothing but relief spread through James, and feeling a little guilty, he wondered what was to become of Walt and Peter.

"Wait." The Lieutenant said. James felt apprehensive at what was to happen next.

"Brand him first."

> > > > > >

James stopped.

"Aye, tis painful ain't it?" Jack said nodding in understanding.

"Well, it's not just that… they decided I'd not been 'roughed up' enough the first time around before they let me go." Then, off Jack's look added, "Don't worry – when I get back everyone in that place is going to get a nasty surprise when I get back to Port Royal."

"Now that's something I'd like to see." Jack countered, a slight smile on his face.

"Right then," Jack said moving off. "Best be letting you get some rest or I suspect I'll have Ana to answer to." James let out a laugh.

"I wasn't aware she cared so much for my well being."

"I'm not sure how much she does, but even she knows it won't be good if Commodore Norrington disappears in the Caribbean on a pirate hunt." Jack told him.