"I said answer me!" Anamaria struck the tavern owner again, and this time the woman hit her back. Gibbs quickly pried the two of them apart, only to have both of them try their fists on him. "You stay out of this, Joshamee!"

"Ye get more with sugar than vinegar, Soledad, and you'd be wise to 'memmer that. Dirce's an old friend o'Jack's, ain't she?" When Anamaria stepped away, he placed both his hands on Dirce's narrow shoulders. "Aye, ye know Jack, don't ye lass? Then where'd he go? And the girl?"

Dirce pointed outward and spat several words in Greek at him. Gibbs sighed and wished he had Jack's gift for languages. "I don't get a word ye say, missy, and if you don't figure a way to say it so I can I may let Anamaria have 'er way with you."

He nodded meaningfully toward Anamaria, who took the cue to crack her knuckles. Dirce rubbed her forehead, searching for the words. "Gerrarrd," she finally grated, "Wickedry!"

"Wickedry ran out of the harbor not more'n an hour ago, I'm told." Gibbs and Anamaria exchanged glances. "Methinks the good cap'n might've been on 'er."

"I told ye he'd get himself kilt sooner or later! We should've brought the entire bloody crew and shot Gerrarrd 'fore anything happened!"

"Jack works in mysterious ways, Soledad, and he planned this to happen this way." Gibbs said the words loudly enough to convince himself of their truth for the time being. "Dirce, where is Gerrarrd going?"

"How the hell would she know?"

"Dirce knows everything," Duncan said from the doorway. "Bloody information broker's what she is."

"All the more reason to kill her."

"Soledad, mayhaps ye'd best go see to the ship if all you're mindful of doing is killin' folk. S'bad luck to be killing information brokers." Gibbs waited until her temper had ebbed slightly before continuing. "Now, we want to get Jack back, so Dirce is going to help us if we ask nicely. Duncan, the maps."

Duncan walked over to one of the tables and dumped a map of the known Caribbean on it, planting a pistol on one end and a dagger on the other. Gibbs guided Dirce over to the map and gestured to it. "Where's Gerrarrd going?" When she presented him with a blank look, his patience snapped and he signaled to Anamaria.

She grabbed Dirce by the neck and slammed her headfirst into the map. "Where is Gerrarrd going? Tell us!" She pointed several times at the map, until Dirce at last lifted a finger and placed it in a general area. Anamaria squinted at it. "Give us an island, bitch."

"Not knowing," Dirce mumbled into the paper. "Not telling, just... three islands."

"Well, looka who speaka English, huh?" Anamaria yanked her off the map and threw her aside. Gibbs put a mark near the islands.

"What's he gonna do with 'em there, I wonder?"

"Can we head them off?" Duncan asked.

"I ain't been to those parts. Soledad?"

"Many reefs and shoals in that area. I'm not sure I'd be recommendin' it to us, what with Pearl and all. If we had a pilot--"

"We don't." Gibbs rolled up the map and Duncan slapped his weapons back onto his person. "Anamaria, we're getting back to the Pearl and chartin' a course through the deeper waters. We'll have to pack on sail, but we'll catch 'em one way or another."

"The wind is good," Duncan called from outside.

Gibbs gestured to Anamaria. "After you, m'lady."

"Just a minute." Anamaria slammed Dirce up against a wall, staring the Greek woman right in the eye. "I know ye understand me, bitch, and don't think I'm not knowin' ye took advantage of our idiot captain's nature t'get him where he is now. An' if ye so much as breathe a word of this to anyone livin' or dead, I'll hunt ye down. Ye got me?"

Dirce smiled. "You not know much, pirate-woman."

Anamaria backhanded her once before stalking out. Gibbs shut the door quickly and chased after her as she joined Duncan in the ship's boat. "Mind telling me what the hell that was about?"

"Dirce's been in cahoots with half the sailors that come by these ports, but she ain't the only one with an ear for gossip." Anamaria smiled grimly as the two men began to pull at the oars - in the absence of Jack, it was Captain Soledad now. "Been talk of Gerrarrd hoardin' his supplies an' his loyal followers out in the empty parts for few years now. Didn't rightly believe it till now."

Gibbs eyed her. "Ye think Dirce's in on it?"

"No, I think Dirce saw profit and took it. Can't blame her. Don't know what they want with Jack. Should've killed him when they found him with the girl..." Dirce gave him a Look. "Ye sure ye didn't find a body?"

"Jack's alive," Gibbs said firmly. "We's just gotta get him out of the tussle he's got himself into. If Gerrarrd's involved, no good can come o'it. Till we get to him, though, the helm be yours, lass."

"Then put your back into it, ya scalawag, and if I hear one word of bad luck I'll have your ears for a necklace."

Gibbs thought of how an ear-necklace might be rather fitting around Anamaria's slim neck and suppressed a shudder. "Aye-aye, Soledad."

Meanwhile, on Wickedry...

"Wake up, m'pretties, wake up."

Will opened his eyes and found himself staring at Gerrarrd through the bars of the cage, and Gerrarrd was... swaying? No, he was swaying. With the ship!

At sea once again.

How did I manage to fall asleep?

"Are you going to feed us, at least?" Jack asked from his corner. He hadn't moved since curling up there during the night. Will thought he looked quite offended by the entire experience. "Or are we to be starved?"

Gerrarrd smiled, shoved a platter through the bottom of the cage. Will tilted his head to get a look at it - bread, soup, not much else. Scarcely enough for two, much less three. Jack picked up the hunk of bread and sniffed at it, made a face. "This isn't food."

"Get used to it, Raven. Ye ain't eating a captain's fare, but prisoner's leftovers."

"It's Sparrow." Jack stood up, planted his hands around the bars, and pressed his face toward Gerrarrd. "Please let us go?"

"No."

"Then if you wish us to remain your prisoners... so it shall be." He paused, gazing into Gerrarrd's fierce gray gaze. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have beautiful eyes?"

"When the Black Pearl comes for us, you'll be sorry."

It hadn't been Jack Sparrow saying that - it had been Elizabeth. Cuddled in the captain's jacket and hat, she looked nothing so much as a pile of old clothing, but she watched Gerrarrd with steady eyes. Jack took the opportunity to nod authoritatively. "Aye, and once she does - well, the lass said it best."

"True, your crew may know of where you are... but of where we're going..." Gerrarrd chuckled, tapped on the cage. "That Dirce, quite a lovely woman, isn't she?" He ambled away, leaving the three prisoners to stare at each other. Well, Jack and Elizabeth stared at each other - Will just watched them.

"He knows Dirce," she said.

Jack sighed and slumped back into his corner. "Nothing better than a good double-cross."

"May I inquire as to what happened?" Will asked. All he'd gotten when he last asked that question had been a pair of huffing sighs and not much else.

Jack pointed at Elizabeth. "She jumped out of the ship. Came ashore. Tried to crack me head open with a bottle."

"You jumped off the ship?" Elizabeth had always displayed a penchant for adventure, but this seemed perhaps a tad extreme for her.

" We went to what I thought to be a safe harbor... but..."

"We can see how that worked out," Elizabeth said. "Now we'll need another escape plan."

"My hat."

She touched her fingers to it. "What about your hat?"

"I would like it back, please."

"I like this hat."

"So do I, and it's mine."

"But you put it on my head."

"Aye, to disguise you, and seeing that we have been thrown into the brig all the same, you scarcely need it."

"Well, neither do you."

Will sighed and picked up the bowl of soup. "Isn't it interesting that whenever the three of us meet up, we seem to fall into the least-agreeable of company?"

"Isn't it interesting," Jack mimicked him, "that whenever the three of us meet up, I wind up thrown in a brig, or a jail cell, or with a noose 'round my neck?"

"Or marooned," Elizabeth mumbled.

"I thought we'd agreed not to discuss that, Miss Swann. I think it can be established that the pair of you are exceedingly disagreeable to my health and well-being. May I please have my hat?"

She threw it at him.

He caught it, and set it jauntily atop his head. "Aha, I feel more like myself already! Never fear, lad and lassie; I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, I'll find us a way out of this sooner or later..." Will took a sip of the soup and resisted the urge to spit it out - disgusting, but starving himself would lead him nowhere. He would need to keep up his strength if they were to escape - somehow.

"Why'd he call you 'Raven'?"

"He's just trying to get me angry," Jack said a wee bit too cheerfully.

"And you buy into it every time, Finch," Elizabeth said. Jack turned on her with a scowl, and she chuckled. "You see?"

"When I was your age, women knew their place."

"And what place would that be, Captain Finch?"

"Between the sheets, of course!" The captain's jovial smile did not quite keep Elizabeth's eyes from narrowing.

"When you were our age, gunpowder hadn't been developed," Will said, hoping to diffuse the situation. Now the captain's eyes turned to him, and he took another sip of the soup. "And sheets likely hadn't, either. I've an idea - let's each think. When we come up with plans, we'll talk about them and decide. All right?"

Elizabeth nodded and reached for the soup. Jack just grunted.

Will decided that probably meant yes.

(Thanks for the lovely reviews, gang! I hope the story continues to entertain. :D)