Whoops! Time has flown by, and I didn't realize it has been two weeks since I updated (Baaaad Soli, smacks herself in da head! ) Of the three story lines I have going right now, this one is proving to be the most difficult to write, as I haven't quite gotten the plot completely figured out yet, so please be patient!

I am taking a few creative liberties with my Hector Barbossa, since none of the bio information I could find listed his height. Also, my apologies for not getting my facts strait concerning Mr. Depp…I THOUGHT I had read somewhere that he was married, but I've been informed by several reviewers that he is actually in a committed, long term relationship (unfortunately for us adoring fans…weeps)……ah well, we can still dream, cain't we?

As usual, I do not own POTC, just the original characters and storyline I have created in my sick widdle brain.

Chapter 17: The Trap Is Set…………

"You promised me Jack Sparrow, Mr. Dixon…..why then are we sitting around when there is blood needing to be spilled and vengeance to be wrought?"

Michael Dixon observed the pacing pirate captain over the rim of his scotch, still bemused by the fact that the former wax statue he had created was alive and breathing in front of him. The real life version Hector Barbossa was even more imposing than the mannequin had been, a towering 6'4" of brooding darkness, the shiny scar-ridden cheek and yellowed eyes personifying evil incarnate. The man moved like a caged panther, back and forth, back and forth, and Michael had the distinct feeling that if it weren't for the spell binding the two, he would have been hacked into handful sized pieces long ago.

"I know what I promised, Captain, and I fully intend to deliver what I promised. Jack Sparrow is as good as dead, and his demise will be at your hands. He is at a…shall we say…disadvantage in this century, as are you." He hid his momentary fear at the snarl of rage on Barbossa's face as the man stopped his pacing and faced him from across the desk. "It is my belief that he has taken up with a soon to be former employee of mine, the artist who created his image as I created yours. We have her under surveillance and are simply waiting for the opportune moment to strike. You've waited centuries for your revenge….what's a few more hours, hmmm?" Michael smiled softly and leaned back in his chair, propping his $600-a-pair Italian leather footwear on the edge of the huge desk. At that moment, the private line on his phone rang and he quickly answered it, a calculating look on his face as the person on the other end made their report. "I see…..maintain your surveillance, and make sure she doesn't leave without an invisible escort. I'll be in touch."

Hanging up the phone, Michael poured himself another drink and made one for his guest as well before he spoke. "The surveillance team have been listening in at the girl's apartment, and they report that Jack Sparrow is not currently with Josie as we had expected. Apparently he took off on his own, but is expected to return, when we're not exactly sure." At this news, the former captain of The Black Pearl growled and knocked back the scotch like it was water, throwing the glass against the wall where it shattered in a million fragments.

Michael simply tsk'ed in annoyance and shook his head at the pirate's tantrum. "Have a little faith in me, Captain….you'll have your revenge, and sooner than you think." He set his drink down and reached for his rolodex. "He was pulled here by Josie to act as her protector, so let's see how he reacts to seeing his damsel in distress. After all, why go to him when we can make him come to us?" With a sly grin, he picked up the phone and shortly thereafter spoke with another of his somewhat shady contacts. "Hey, I've got a pickup and delivery job for you. I need you to assemble a team…..no, better make it 8….. I don't want to take any chances with this package." He flipped open her personnel file and blithely read off an address. "I want you and your associates to pay a call on Ms. Perry and extend her an invitation she can't refuse…."

88888888888888888888888888888888

"I can't believe you're serious…..MAGES in Vegas?"

Bethany chuckled again, reaching over to pat Jo comfortingly on the knee. "Close your mouth, love, or you'll be catching flies." The older woman grinned and sat back against the couch with a sigh. "It's not something we care to advertise, duchess…I wouldna' mentioned it to you at all, except that these goings on have caused quite a disturbance, and all of it centered around you. I figured I had best investigate before an assembly was called to deal with the situation."

"Honestly, Bethany…..I'm not sure what to make of the whole thing myself. A few months ago I started hearing his voice in my head, and then bam, the night of the Gala he comes to life, just in time to save me from being raped by Michael."

Her friend growled and uttered an oath in what sounded like Gaelic beneath her breath. "I'd wondered where you got that shiner…..hold on a mo'." She rubbed her hands together briskly, and Jo automatically closed her eyes as Bethany raised her hands and placed them just above her bruised cheek. Her face grew almost painfully warm and then icy cool, and the residual ache she had been experiencing disappeared. Jo opened her eyes to see Bethany shaking her hands as if they were asleep, then her friend grinned at her with satisfaction. "Healing is one of my few talents…comes in handy on occasion."

"I can't argue with you there, Beth……now I know why everyone comes to you when they have a headache. I'm just ticked that they've been holding out on me! I wish I'd have known about Bethany's Miraculous Healing Touch sooner…..here all this time I've been gagging down BC Powders!" Jo made a face at the thought of the nasty tasting headache remedy.

Bethany laughed. "Well, I don't know about you, but I could use a cup of tea. Speed healing takes a bit out o'me." Jo rose from the couch and strolled into the kitchen, still a bit bemused by her coworker's revelation. She started to fill the tea kettle automatically, deep in thought, and was startled when the container overflowed. Shaking her head, she started the water heating on the stove before getting out the cups and saucers. She was rummaging in the cupboard for the tea bags when the doorbell rang, setting Nicodemus to barking.

"Can you get that, Beth? It might be Jack….he doesn't have a key."

She heard Beth's positive reply, and turned toward the pantry to find something to serve with the tea. Reaching high, she accidentally knocked the tin of butter cookies off the top shelf, and crouched down to pick the rolling tin up off the floor. She heard voices murmuring and a strange thudding noise, followed by a yelp from Nicodemus, which was quickly silenced. Suddenly alarmed, she turned and started to stand up only to find a handsome dark haired man in dark slacks, a long sleeve pest control-logo shirt and hard hat looming over her, his firm hand coming to rest on her shoulder preventing her from rising. Glancing beyond him, she saw two men in paint spattered white coveralls rolling an unconscious Bethany onto a large canvas drop cloth. Jo panicked and froze, her eyes flying up to the man before her, the cookie tin falling from her grasp to clang noisily on the floor. The man smiled and crouched down beside her, but the friendly expression didn't reach his cold blue eyes.

"We had a report of a pest problem at this address, and I think I'm looking at it." Before she could move or speak, he pointed the spray wand in his hand at her face, releasing a fine mist that made the room swim and sent her plunging into the darkness as she slumped to the floor.

"Sweet dreams, princess."

88888888888888888888888888888888888

Michael Dixon and his companion were gliding down the Vegas strip in a limousine when the call came through. Michael was irritated when he learned that not only had Jo been taken but that another museum employee had been drugged and removed as well. One employee disappearing could be explained, but two was more than coincidence. He made a swift decision, ordering the men to take the costume designer back to the museum and inject her with a large amount of potassium chloride, simulating a heart attack. He then made arrangements for the van carrying Josie to rendezvous with them at a warehouse on the outskirts of town before releasing the call. Satisfied that he had all the bases covered, he turned back to his guest and partner in crime, a contented look on his face.

"Everything is going according to the plan, Captain. My men have left your letter and specific instructions for Sparrow at the apartment, and if he is true to form, he won't sit idly by while his precious lady love remains in danger. Now all we have to do is be patient a little longer, and he'll fly right into our hands. I think his huevos would make a nice paperweight, wouldn't you agree?"

88888888888888888888888888