A/N: The action of this chapter is somewhat fast and furious. If it's hard to follow, just remember: this is Pirates. They have three-way swordfights on a giant rolling wheel. 'Nuff said.

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They loaded Elizabeth and Barbossa onto the Flying Dutchman and put Jack's plan into action. Davy Jones sailed up to Lord Beckett and lied through his teeth about having sunk the pirate ship but unfortunately killed his captives. They were shot, he explained, while making a mad escape attempt.

While their talk was going on and Beckett's crew was occupied with gawking as discreetly as possible at this amazing creature who was half squid, Elizabeth and Barbossa snuck from one ship to the other. (Elizabeth had been chosen for this mission because she would have the best chance of staying alive if caught by Beckett. Barbossa had invented several reasons to accompany her, but Elizabeth suspected the real reason was simply that he didn't want her to undertake the mission alone. Will had been extremely supportive of the captain's decision, and in fact had helped invent several additional reasons for it. Because Elizabeth was glaring at him, these reasons did not contain the words "worried" or "protect.")

In any case. Jack had sworn that Beckett was so proud of the mechanical protections he had devised that he did not even deem it necessary to have human guards watch over the heart. While that idea was ridiculous, at first it seemed to be true. They waited til Beckett was in the privy, then snuck into his private room, and it was indeed empty. They paused at the secret door behind the mirror.

("A secret room on a ship?" Elizabeth had demanded, not believing a word of it. "Saw it with my own eyes, love," Jack had answered in his most honest voice.)

Elizabeth paused before they opened it. "Ready?" Barbossa gave her an encouraging wink and she flung the door open.

She went cold. There was someone there! A guard, leaping to his feet right beside the table and reaching for the lever that would destroy-

Apparently Barbossa had foreseen the possibility of a guard within the chamber, because his knife whistled by her ear and buried itself in the guard's chest. The guard squeaked and staggered backwards. Barbossa was on him in a minute and finished the job with his sword.

"Apologies for the gore, miss," he said smoothly as he wiped off his blades. "They'd have heard a pistol shot upstairs."

Elizabeth tore her attention away from the bloody mess and turned to the intricate machine on the table. There were the three levers, exactly as Jack had described them. One would open the chest, while the others would break a delicate bottle of acid that sat next to the heart, ready to destroy it. She tiptoed up, careful not to bump the table. The machine was intentionally very fragile, she knew – any serious damage to the ship, any foul weather, would be enough to kill Davy Jones for good. This ensured that Jones was insanely protective of this ship, and of Lord Beckett, who was (until he demonstrated his genius arrangements to Jack) the only person who knew how to extract the heart. Elizabeth exhaled slowly. "Jack told me that Beckett opened the box with the left lever." She reached for it, but Barbossa caught her wrist.

"How stupid is Beckett really?" he asked urgently. "Stupid enough to trust Jack Sparrow with his secrets?"

Elizabeth paused. "Is anybody that stupid?"

Barbossa felt underneath the lever and found a small button on the side of the box. "Feel here. That's the little trick that Jack missed."

"Or simply failed to tell us about," Elizabeth muttered. She held the button down, then lifted the lever to pop open the top. The capsule of acid didn't break.

Once the box was open, Elizabeth withdrew the smaller box inside it. This one, too, was a machine with built-in destructive capacity. It had four dials with little symbols on them, and Elizabeth was about to stake their whole plan on Jack's ability to remember the code perfectly after one sighting. A sighting, in fact, which Jack had accomplished by watching Beckett's reflection in the shiny side of a silver teapot, since Beckett had been careful to shield what he was doing from Jack's direct view. It wasn't easy, especially with Barbossa muttering "hurry up" in her ear ever few seconds, but Elizabeth did it as she'd been told, and the smaller box opened. She mastered her revulsion enough to reach in and pull the heart out from its elaborate nest of spikey gears ready to whirl and crush it. When she felt it beating in her hand, though, she shuddered and dropped it onto the table.

Barbossa stuck it unsqueamishly into his coat. Stealing the heart was that easy.

They closed up the boxes so that Beckett wouldn't realize right away that it was gone. Then they hid. "When do we get out of here?" Elizabeth hissed.

Barbossa looked pained. "I asked Jack. I'll give you three guesses what his answer was."

She guessed Jack's answer without difficulty, but didn't like it much. "That's ridiculous," she hissed, "How can we possibly know when the opportune moment will be?"

He didn't sound particularly disturbed. "He said we'll know."

"What? No! You don't actually believe him?"

"Don't you?" Barbossa turned to her in surprise. "You're here, aren't you?"

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Jack was staring into his spyglass, watching the distant speck that was Beckett's ship. "It's going to work."

"It is not going to work!" Will insisted. "Beckett may be a scoundrel but he's not an idiot. If he really wants to take our ship, he'll just call the Dutchman."

"Not if thinks he doesn't need the Dutchman. He's afraid, mate, don't let him tell you otherwise. The less he has to ask of Davy Jones, the better. He's going to come after us himself."

Will sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Very well – I'll give you that. If Beckett thinks he can take us, he won't call for help. But how can we make him think that? The Pearl is much too fast. Should we take in sail?"

"No, then he'll know we're hiding something from him." Jack argued.

"I've got it." Will jumped up excitedly. "He's behind us, right? Figure out what sails he can't see because of the mainsail, and, and, take them down." Will had pulled the idea out of thin air and didn't know if it even made any sense, but Jack didn't seem opposed. In fact, he was narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, so Will took heart and continued, "Yes, and we can, uh, we can run out the oars… but not have the men actually use them. Just sort of skim them over the water. Can we do that? It will make Beckett think we're running scared and have got nothing else to fall back on…"

Jack considered the plan quickly, swallowed down his jealousy at not having thought of it himself, and agreed. "We'll have Norrington's men sit at the oars, we don't want them to be seen just yet. We'll save it as a surprise for later."

Jack and Norrington took the uniformed men below and got them seated at the benches. Jack explained the plan.

Norrington listened carefully, then fought his way out of his coat and nudged one of the men with his boot. "Move. Move over."

"Beg pardon, sir?"

Norrington shoved a little harder and sat down on the bench beside him. He addressed Sparrow without looking at him. "I understand that we're all in danger here, the civilians too, and so – much as it pains me – I'm going to help you. However, your plan is ridiculous. I cannot possibly ask my men to participate in it if I'm not down here doing the same."

"But I want you up on deck, mate. Two heads being better than one and all that."

Norrington shook his head and prepared to argue further, but was interrupted before he could even start. "Sir!"

He turned around to face Gilette. "Sir, if you tell us to row, sir – or pretend to row – we'll do it whether you're here or not! Just give me your orders and then do what you need to do."

Norrington glanced from him to the others and saw something in their faces that he hadn't seen since before the hurricane. Since before he'd sent Jack Sparrow to hang, in fact. He found himself inexplicably choked up and barely managed to growl, "Very well – you heard the plan. Gilette…make it happen."

"Yes, sir!"

Although he usually detested Sparrow's tendency to invade personal boundaries at every opportunity, this time Norrington was glad to have the pirate hang an arm over his shoulders and pull him away. Beginning to win back his men's respect after so long was a powerful experience and he didn't think he would have quite managed to walk steadily without help.

And of course Sparrow, damn him, noticed. "At least the day's not a total loss," he remarked cheerfully as they ascended. "You having found your redemption and all that."

Norrington found himself compelled to argue – old habits and all that. "I refuse to consider the possibility of finding redemption in the hold of a pirate ship."

Jack stopped and turned to face him. "No, mate, you're finding redemption in the company of good people helping protect those you care about," he explained quietly. "There's nothing wrong with that."

Norrington took a look behind them and saw Lord Beckett's ship in the distance. "Talk to me after we don't all die here," he muttered to Jack. "Look – they're getting closer."

Jack patted him on the shoulder. "Have fun, mate." He raised his voice and ordered a few pirates who were standing about, "You! Lower this boat."

"What?" Norrington grabbed him by the shirt. "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

Jack shook free and flashed him his loopiest smile. "Just trust me."

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"Sails! Sails! The Jolly Roger! Sir, it's pirates!"

Beckett's pulse quickened, but he made sure to look up from his desk slowly and project complete unconcern. "Mr. Mercer."

"Yes, sir, I'll go sort it all out." Mercer materialized from the shadows and headed upstairs.

Beckett sat alone, thinking. That was likely the same pirate ship that Davy Jones claimed to have sunk. If the ship was still afloat it meant he hadn't fought it, and that meant that Elizabeth hadn't been killed. Why would Jones lie? Ah. Because he'd been charmed by that little minx, just like everybody else. Naughty girl. Beckett tsked aloud and smiled. "We're going to have to have a few words, my dear," he whispered.

Focus. Should he call for Jones now and take him to task? Or might it be better to attack the pirate ship himself – only if his men thought it could be done, of course, he was no fool and wouldn't bite off more than he could chew. The idea of confronting Jones and Elizabeth with the mutilated remains of their treachery was vastly appealing. That decided it – if Mercer thought it feasible, he would order pursuit.

Speak of the devil. Mercer strode back in, calm as ever. "Well?"

"They're running from us, sir."

"What if we wanted to catch them?"

Mercer grinned and toyed with the dagger in his sleeve. "I'd say it could be done, sir. We might have to lighten the ship a little, but everyone seems confident this ship could overtake. They haven't got any more speed anyplace, sir, they're even using their oars and they've already started dumping. They even dumped one of their lifeboats."

"Desperate, panicking pirates?" Beckett smirked. "I like that type the best of all. Do it."

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When Barbossa and Elizabeth climbed aboard the lifeboat, drenched and exhausted from the swim, they found Jack napping on the floor. He jumped up. "'Ello, fancy meeting you here!"

Once they were all seated, Barbossa reached over, caught Elizabeth up in a bearhug, and heaved her overboard again.

She came up sputtering and laughing. "That's not fair – you deserved it! You don't get to take revenge for something you deserved!" Jack helped pull her aboard again.

"She pushed me off Beckett's ship while I was getting ready to dive," Barbossa explained, wringing out his hair. "She can count herself lucky I don't give her a spanking." He reached into his coat and pulled out a soaking, rumpled bundle that turned out to be his hat.

"Ah, speaking of hats…" Jack reached over and detached his own hat from the bow of the lifeboat. "Glad you saw my signal. Now, let's row this thing to shore – that shouldn't take us long – and hide the heart someplace. Just in case Davy gets second thoughts about playing fair."

They started rowing, joking around, happily oblivious to the pack of Davy Jones's fish-people who were following them at a distance. It seems after all that Jack wasn't the only one worried about his allies not playing fair.

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They were in the woods of the island picking out a good spot to bury the heart when Jack suddenly grabbed at Barbossa's arm. "D'you smell something?"

Barbossa sniffed. "You could try bathing sometimes, Jack."

"I smell it," Elizabeth breathed. "Oh, God. It's them."

"It's them, who them?" demanded Barbossa testily. There was nothing wrong with his sense of smell, thank you very much, but he didn't sm- Oh. There it was, a rotten fishy odor. "Davy's crew. We've been followed."

"Yah." Jack turned in a slow circle but couldn't see anyone. He licked his finger and tested the wind. "Smell's coming from that way, so I think we should take the other direction. At a very, very fast pace."

Elizabeth hadn't yet managed to move. Barbossa grabbed her hand and pulled her. "That means run."

They ran. They could hear the fish-people running after them. They ran faster.

Elizabeth eventually thought to ask, "Do you think they know we have the heart?"

"Doubt it," Barbossa gasped out. He hated running long distances. He didn't have to do it often, fortunately, because it made him feel sick and dizzy. Not to mention he was not as young as he used to be, and leaping around always pulled on old scars, and this time there was a bloody girl with him who he was barely able to keep up with.

"Should we tell them we've got it?"

"I would not advise that course of action," Jack said, not sounding at all winded, "Because we promised to turn the thing over to Davy, not bring it ashore. He's got my ship out there, and he'll kill everyone if he thinks we've betrayed him."

Barbossa found the breath to correct, "My ship."

A moment later they jumped down into a small ravine and Jack dragged them under an overhanging mess of branches and roots. "Shh," he whispered. "Let the fishies go past us and we'll double back towards the beach."

Grateful for a moment to catch their breath, nobody argued with him. Barbossa reached into his coat. "Here."

"The thump-thump!" Jack clapped his hands joyfully. "I really like the thump-thump, it's so-"

They never found out what quality of Davy Jones's heart appealed to Jack (it was that it reminded him of a kitten, so tiny and yet so tough) because Barbossa shoved it into his hands and hissed at him to be quiet. "If only one of us makes it out of here it's likely to be you, so you might as well keep it. Never mind leaving it on the island, now that they spotted us it's not a secret hiding spot no more. We'll take it with us. Now, quiet - they're coming."

They watched the fish-people jump right over them and run past. They got up very quietly and turned around and started retracing their steps, still running but making an effort to do it silently. They needed to reach the beach with a very big head start, because it would not at all be good for the fish-people to overtake them while they were trapped out at sea in the rowboat.

They reached their boat and at first it seemed that they'd really given Jones's crew the slip. But then they caught a glimpse of scales on the horizon, and saw a fishman coming up over the dunes. They'd been spotted.

"Into the boat." Jack's voice was low and urgent. "Hurry up, get in and we'll shove off."

Elizabeth obeyed at once. "Captain?"

Barbossa was judging the distance from the shore to the Pearl. "We won't make it. We won't even be close."

"We have to try." Jack climbed in himself and held out his hand. "Now, mate."

"No." Barbossa stepped back away from the boat. "We should take our chances here where at least we can fight, where we have some control. On land. Those things are like fishJack, they swimThey'll catch up to us, pull us under, take-."

"We don't even know how many there are," Jack argued. "I've counted at least nine or ten. We'll be slaughtered if we stay. There's a smallchance we can get close enough for the Pearl's guns to cover us, and it's a chance we have to take. I'm not leaving you here to die." When Barbossa didn't move, he drew his pistol. "Get in the boat - that's an order."

"Well, I'm not leaving meout at sea to be taken by Jones's monsters." Barbossa drew his gun, too. "You two get out of the boat. That's an order."

They regarded each other for a few long seconds while the fish-people continued to get closer. "Of the two of us," Jack began, "I am the only one-"

"You don't seriously think I won't?" Barbossa sneered. He shifted his aim. "You can't row with only one arm."

A quick review of their history together suggested that he was probably serious. Jack winced and put away his pistol. "Fine. You want to stay, stay. Elizabeth and I are going." He hopped out of the boat and, with Barbossa's help, shoved off.

Jack was holding out a hope that his friend might jump in at the last moment, but instead Barbossa just waded a bit closer to shore and drew his sword. He didn't even turn to wave goodbye. Jack was so disappointed that he grabbed a clump of wet sand and threw it at his back. "You'd be willing to kill us all," he shouted, "Just because you're afraid of fish!"

With a heroic effort, Barbossa ignored him.

"Come on, then, Elizabeth," Jack said, more to keep his throat clear than anything else. "Let's row."

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TBC.

Ok, the next bit should be good to go tomorrow or Tuesday. Please drop me a line and let me know what you think of the story so far. We're kind of approaching the end. I'd really like to hear from people, and I figure that now (while there's a bit of a cliffhanger and I therefore have some leverage) is a good time to demand feedback. So tell me something!

Anonymous: LOL at "hot…old…person…love." I'm resisting the urge to slip in a spoiler here... … … successfully resisted!