Jack's crew had managed to drag the vault all the way back to the dockyard, the threat of the British soldiers being virtually nonexistent. Once they had reached their destination, they hauled the vault onto the deck of a battered, old ship called The Dying Gull. Jack had managed to buy the ship for a relatively low price, but it did require some extensive repairs, and he and the crew spent countless months fixing all the imperfections (which was putting it mildly since there was a massive breach in the hull and no rudder to speak of). Still, it wasn't like Jack had a plethora of available options to choose from.
"I hope this was worth the effort," Pintel grunted, to which Jack responded, "No need to worry, mate. We'll be living like kings after this."
The crew opened the vault door, and Jack sighed when he looked inside and saw that only about a tenth of all the money in the vault remained, even with his efforts of scrounging up as many coins as possible.
There were audible complaints from the crew, with Marty looking inside, asking "Where's the gold? This will barely last us a month at most!"
Jack perused the vaults contents closely, trying to see if there was just some sort of error and that there was more gold to be contained within. He found nothing in the vault with the few pounds and coins, save for a glass eye with a brown iris. It must have been of high value to someone.
"On the bright side," Jack said, picking up the eye, "we have this. Oi Cyclops, this is yours mate."
Jack casually tossed the eye over to Ragetti, who giddily took hold of it and placed it in his eye socket, the brown glass iris being quite distinctive from his blue working one.
"Hey everyone, look!" Ragetti said, grinning like a child, "I'm heterosexual!"
Pintel smacked him on the back of the head, shouting "It's heterochromatic, you lobcock!"
"Jack," Gibbs began, "you said that this job would finally turn our luck around, but we're still in the same rut as before."
"Firstly," Jack began, turning to face his crew, "it was not my idea to rob the bank, if you recall. I'm looking at you, birdie."
Jack pointed his finger at Cotton's parrot, which squawked, "RAWK! Jack is a liar! Jack is a liar!"
"Mr. Cotton, I would advise you to get that bird to stop deliberately insulting me," Jack finished, "Now, secondly, do you think it's easy robbing a bank?"
The crew unanimously said no, to which Jack responded "Well then, now you understand why it didn't work."
"The plan was for you to go in, tie the rope, and get out," Marty argued, "not for you to get drunk and in bed with the magistrate's wife!"
"The magistrate's wife was the one that let me into the vault, mate," Jack explained, "As for the rest... well, you got me there. But still, it isn't my fault things didn't go exactly according to plan."
"Is it now?" Marty responded, anger in his voice.
"We're starving 'ere, we have this dumpheap for a ship, and we've found so little gold that we can ill afford wooden planks to use as weapons!" Pintel shouted.
"Gentlemen, please just bare with me for a short while longer," Jack began, "Our fortunes will turn soon eno-"
"When, Jack?" Gibbs asked of him, "We can't hold off on promises that'll never happen."
"Maybe we should've taken our chances with Captain Barbossa," Pintel said, "He has command of the Queen Anne's Revenge and ten other ships."
"He does practically rule the seas," Ragetti added, "Ships full of gold, eighteen-pound cannonballs..."
"A one-legged man with eighteen-pound balls?" Jack said aloud, thinking on that for a moment, "No wonder he walks funny."
"Maybe we should go back to Barbossa and see if he'll take us on his fleet," Marty inserted, "You've had a bag full of miniaturized ships for years and still haven't figured out a way to get them out!"
Jack remembered that the fleet of ships that Gibbs had stolen from Blackbeard were still below deck. Marty was right, he still hadn't figured out how to get them out of those bottles or how to restore them to their natural size. The crews of those ships were still alive (albeit miniaturized), and Jack made sure that they got enough food and water to survive while he looked for a way to liberate them.
"And this is no ship as far as I can see," Pintel said, referring to the shoddy ship that they were standing on.
"But I am Captain of this crew, and I do have a ship," Jack defended, pulling out a small bottle from his coat containing a vessel with a blackened hull floating in the water. The Black Pearl.
"That's no ship," Pintel complained, "Not anymore."
"And you're no longer our Captain, Captain," Marty practically spat, "Perhaps we are better off taking our chances with Barbossa."
Jack couldn't hold his temper back any longer, and then said "You should be thankful that I welcomed back all of you after you absconded with my ship years back. I should've killed you all on the spot for your treachery. But no, I took you back and gave you another shot, because I have a terrible streak of forgiving people that probably don't deserve it. Now if you all plan to seek out Captain Barbossa, there won't be a spot on this crew for you when you get back."
The crew hardly flinched at Jack's threat, and after they had cleared out what little money that was in the vault, they began to walk off the ship all at once with the exception of Gibbs.
"Alright then! All of you are dismissed, you hear me? And don't even bother coming back!" Jack shouted out at his departing crew, "At least Mr. Gibbs here is loyal unlike you lot!"
Jack then felt Gibbs place his hand on his shoulder, and the pirate looked over to his longtime friend to see he had a solemn expression on his face.
"Face it Jack," Gibbs began, sounding defeated, "bad luck dogs you day and night. Things just aren't like they used to be anymore. We're getting old. Piracy's dying, my friend. We have to make the most of it while we still can."
"What are you saying, Joshamee?" Jack asked with concern, but Gibbs stayed silent. Jack continued, saying "After all these years, after everything we've been through, and you would do this to me?" Jack asked, feeling betrayed.
"I'm sorry Jack, but I think we've reached the end of our horizon," Gibbs said, patting his Captain's shoulder. Jack looked at him with a fair amount of shock at how his closest friend was prepared to walk out on him, and then Gibbs took his hand off of his shoulder.
"Fine then," Jack said in a low voice, "Go on. You don't need me."
Gibbs looked down towards the deck, and then proceeded to make his way off of the Gull to join the rest of the departing crew.
Jack felt shocked and betrayed at what had just happened, but he knew Gibbs was right. There haven't been any successes lately for him or his crew. Bad luck did seem to plague him day and night. He was always so certain of himself before, always knowing just exactly how to make a proper plan. But the past few years had begun to take their toll on him. He was getting old. He was losing his good fortune. He was beginning to feel tired.
All of his life, he was in pursuit of treasure, and he had nothing to show for it. Very little gold and a notorious reputation were all his efforts had ever gotten him. And in all that time, he had escaped the clutches of death time and time again, only to realize that he had nothing to really live for except for the temporary comforts of drink and pleasure.
Sighing, Jack pulled his compass from his belt and opened it, taking a look down and seeing the arrow pointing out towards the sea, the very thing he wanted more than anything else. He took the bottle that contained the Pearl and placed it on the ledge at the back of the ship that was facing towards the open ocean. He lined it up just right so that when he looked at it from a certain angle, it looked if it was sailing the seas of the Caribbean once more. He longed for the day that he would be able to set it free, because he so desperately wanted to experience the euphoria of being in command of his ship. He had gone to numerous lengths to make sure the ship stayed his, because it was one of the few things left in this world that mattered to him.
Carina had managed to escape the guards that were chasing her, and she considered herself fortunate that her face hadn't been seen by them, nevermind the fact that she didn't get shot; she was still shaking from that. She didn't stop running until she had made it back to the Rusty Anchor, hoping that she could have time to collect herself before she needed to do her calculations that night. When she got there, Carina went in through the back door, and breathed a deep sigh of relief as she closed her eyes and realized that she was safe (for the moment, anyway).
She looked down at the bottom of her dress and saw the area of where the rum had stained. She was frustrated at the thought of that drunken pirate from earlier and how he had almost gotten her killed. She also was frustrated because now she had to get a new dress because now hers reeked of booze and stale hay. Carina made her way upstairs to her room and locked the door behind her as she fell back on her bed, utterly exhausted over what had occurred that day. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to calm herself down, and then felt a little stinging pain in her upper left cheek. Getting up, she walked over to her mirror to see that a very small piece of glass was stuck in her cheek just below the corner of her eye, presumably from when the pirate's bottle had been destroyed by the shopkeeper's pistol.
"Goddammit," she swore, getting a pair of tweezers to pull the glass out of her face. When she finished, Carina used a wet towel to try to clear off the blood from that area. When she finished, she saw that she had gotten rid of it, but saw that it would leave a mark when it healed. It was small enough and to the left enough that it would be very hard to notice, but Carina was still frustrated because of how terrible her day was and how this would be a permanent reminder.
She looked at the watch that she had taken from the shop, and saw that she still had a few hours to kill before she needed to conduct her research when the blood moon came. Carina decided that she would ask Mr. Woodhull if she could work a little today despite the fact that he'd given her the day off. She really just needed to take some time doing something that would take her mind off of shooting, pirates, and stolen banks.
Jack began to wander aimlessly through the streets of St. Martin, having no clear idea of where he wanted to be. The sun was beginning to set, and it had also started to rain hard. If the Redcoats were to catch him for what happened earlier, he wouldn't give a damn.
But first, he needed a drink.
There was no more rum on board the Gull, and Jack's last bottle had been destroyed in the chaos from earlier. He perused the streets, hoping to find some tavern or inn that would be a suitable place for him to drown his sorrows. The rain started to pour down harder, and Jack's clothing was becoming soaked.
He looked ahead and saw a platoon of Redcoats in the distance. Despite not caring if they arrested him, he wanted to at least have a quiet drink beforehand. He ducked into the alleyway on the left only to see that it was blocked off by a locked wooden gate. Desperate, Jack heaved himself over the gate, but he lost his balance halfway over and fell face-first into a pile of mud.
"Gah!" he uttered, spitting mud away from his mouth as he picked himself up off the ground. He saw that he was covered head-to-toe in mud when he stood up all the way, and then looked up to the sky in pure annoyance.
"Gonna try to make it even worse for me?" he said aloud, not sure if he was talking to God or the universe or just anyone who'd listen.
Sighing heavily, Jack looked across the street to see a tavern with lit candles in the windows. As he walked closer to the tavern, he was able to make out the sign that said The Rusty Anchor. Without hesitation, Jack walked inside, thinking that this would be a good place to reside a while and have a quiet drink. As he walked in, he saw wanted posters of himself adorning one of the columns, and worriedly looked around to see if anyone had noticed him. Luckily, it seemed that no one recognized him due to the fact that he was caked with mud, and so Jack heaved a sigh of relief as he slinked off towards an unoccupied table in the corner.
Jack closed his eyes for a moment as he sat in the wooden chair, exhaling from his sheer exhaustion and relishing in the relaxation. He took this moment to momentarily forget about pretty much everything, from his bad luck, to his crew abandoning him, to all of his adventures over the years, and he realized just how bone-tired he was.
He buried his head in his arms on the table for a moment, and then he heard light footsteps draw near him. He peeked up his attention to look at whoever was coming, and his eyes widened when he saw who it was.
"Welcome to the Rusty Anchor, sir. What would you li-" Carina began, but stopped herself when she saw past the mud and saw who was sitting there.
"It's you," she said in a hushed voice, pointing her finger at Jack, "the pirate!"
"Hey," Jack said, the realization dawning on him as well, "you're the witch from earlier!"
"I am not a witch," Carina sternly replied.
"Well then I'm not a pirate," Jack replied with grin, but Carina was anything but amused.
"You nearly got me killed today!" she said through gritted teeth, "I have a scar here because of you!"
"What I did was that I saved your life, love. You should be thanking me," Jack said.
"I'd rather be dead than indebted to a filthy, drunken pirate," Carina barked.
"And I would rather not be scolded at by an ungrateful witch," Jack retorted, "Listen, you keep your tongue to yourself, I'll keep mine to me self, savvy?"
Carina wanted to press the argument further, but she sighed, knowing that Jack had as much leverage over her as she did over him. After a moment, she bitterly muttered, "Fine."
"Excellent," Jack said, grinning, "Do you happen to have a broomstick underneath that dress perchance?"
"Piss off," Carina replied, but Jack continued, asking "What about horny-toads? Magic wands? Have you got a big hat somewhere?"
"Would you like something to drink, kind sir?" Carina asked through a forced smile in an attempt to shut Jack up.
"Indeed I would, lass," Jack said, grinning some more, "A bottle of rum if you please."
Carina rolled her eyes as she walked over to the bar and pulled a bottle of rum off the top shelf. She walked back over to the table where Jack was sitting and placed it down hard on the table, slightly startling the pirate.
"Thank you kindly, miss," Jack said as he popped the cork off of the top of the bottle, but before he could take a sip he heard Carina go "Ahem!"
He looked over to the girl, and she said "I'll still be needing your silver."
"Very well then," Jack replied, and then he began to search his pockets for any coins he had on him. He searched practically every pocket, but couldn't find a single piece on him. He hadn't grabbed any of the money from the vault before his crew had taken the rest. He looked up at Carina, and he gave a sheepish grin.
"I don't seem to have any coin on me at the moment," Jack began, "Could I perhaps pay you back another day?"
"No coin, no rum," Carina stated, arms crossed.
Jack's brow furrowed for a moment. He knew that he didn't have any money on him, but he really wanted this rum. His life had been so downhill lately that he needed one last drink.
"How about a trade?" Jack suggested, to which Carina gave a small nod. He attempted to offer her one of his pistols, but she said "No, I definitely do not want that."
"How about me sword?" he offered, but Carina again declined. Jack continued to make offers, saying "Me coat, me pelts, me hat? Actually, scratch that last part."
"I don't want any of those things," Carina said, "Don't you have anything useful?"
Jack was frankly offended by her comment about his effects not being "useful," but it didn't stop her from pressing him. Sighing, Jack looked down and saw the compass that he carried resting against his leg. This was one of his most prized possessions, next to the Pearl of course. He had had this compass with him for so many of his journeys, always bringing him to the things he wanted most. But he didn't need it anymore. He had resigned himself to either drink himself to death in this tavern or drink until the guards arrested him and had him hung.
He took the compass off of his belt, and placed it on the table. He looked at the girl, and then asked "Does this work?"
Carina's eyes darted from the pirate to the compass and back. She didn't really see what she would use a compass for, but she said "I suppose so."
"Goody," Jack said, picking up the bottle of rum and drinking it with the bottom up. Carina rolled her eyes, and then grabbed the compass from the table. Turning away from the table, her mind went back to how the time for her calculations was drawing nearer. But suddenly, those thoughts were cut short by feeling a shaking in her hand. She looked down to the hand that was holding the compass and saw that it was vibrating somehow.
"What the?" she said, turning around to face Jack's table. Jack eyed the compass peculiarly, and the shaking had become so violent that Carina was forced to drop it back onto the table where it continued to vibrate.
Soon, the same sensation amplified greatly that the table started to shake, and then the other tables seemed to, and then the whole building seemed to, and then it seemed as if the whole island were shaking. The customers in the tavern began to panic, thinking that the cause of the shaking might be the storm or an earthquake.
"What's going on?" Carina asked Jack, panicking. Jack responded by putting his hands in the air and saying "I didn't do it!"
Without warning, the compass opened up, and Jack and Carina both saw the needle spinning in circles, picking up more speed with each rotation.
"It doesn't normally do this!" Jack tried to explain, and the establishment continued to shake, "Are you sure you're not a witch, lass?"
"Go to hell," Carina said, and Jack responded with "Now that is no way for a lady to talk. Didn't mummy and daddy teach you any manners?"
Carina was about to retort to the comment about her parents, but she thought better of it.
Suddenly, the compass stopped vibrating and the lid of it closed itself. The shaking that had engulfed St. Martin for a few moments had ended.
After this bizarre occurrence had ended, Jack immediately went back to drinking his rum, disregarding the compass completely. Against her better instincts, Carina took the compass again because she still needed payment for the drink, and then placed it in the money tray behind the bar before she rushed off towards her room so that she could get focused on doing her calculations for when the blood moon came. She just wanted this day to end.
"Pirate's life," Jack remarked, smiling to himself. Content with his rum in exchange for his prized compass, he drank away, drowning out the misery of the past few years. After a while, he had drunken so much rum that he eventually lost consciousness and fell into a deep sleep.
Salazar and his crew aimlessly stood around the Silent Mary, much as they had been for the last thirty years. It was a miserable existence, to live forever shrouded in darkness with no hope for escape. The pain of not being able to die was worse than dying itself. They could not eat, sleep, or do anything except remain trapped in the Devil's Triangle for the rest of eternity. If Salazar wasn't certain that there was a Hell before, he sure was now. He was a dead man that couldn't die, and so all of his days were spent with nothing but pure anger at the pirate bastard that left him to this horrible fate. Each day, he would miss his homeland of Spain, he missed the feeling of daylight against his skin, the feeling of wine, women, and song that used to bring him joy as a young man.
But he missed so much more than even that, and his hatred of Jack Sparrow only grew at the thought of what he had taken from him. And Salazar wasn't the only one to suffer. Every single one of his crewmates were resigned to the same fate of being ghostly apparitions of their former selves, unable to return to the glory of Spain for their heroics against the pirates that ravaged the seas like the plague with their thievery and murder. Jack Sparrow had seen to it that all of their efforts and sacrifices were for nothing. Sometimes, Salazar would look at his own deathly appearance in the waters of the Triangle, and would actually wonder who was the real monster between him and Sparrow.
One day, he would have his revenge.
A crackling noise ensued, and Salazar and his crew looked up to see a crack in the cavernous ceiling, revealing a ray of light that was almost blinding. Rocks began to crumble all around the Silent Mary, and more light began to show itself.
"Capitan," Lezaro called out, rushing over to Salazar, "What is happening?"
Salazar didn't have an answer for his loyal lieutenant, because his gaze was fixated on the bright light emerging from the darkness.
"Jack Sparrow," Salazar said, rolling the "r"s in his speech, "That boy Henry must have reached him! He's done it!"
The last of the crumbling rock fell down around them as the Devil's Triangle was nothing more than a pile of rocks. The Silent Mary was engulfed in the sun's rays, and Salazar looked in pure joy at the blue sky and clouds around him for the first time in what felt like forever.
"Daylight!" he giddily shouted out as he felt the warm comfort of the sun against his skin, "DAYLIGHT! WE ARE FREE!"
The rest of his crew cheered like they've never cheered before. Feeling the light for the first time in years, it almost felt like they were being born again. Their rocky prison was now gone, and they were finally freed from that hell that they had spent so long in.
Salazar stood with his arms outstretched, letting the sun kiss his skin with its warmth. Oh, how he had missed this.
"Now," he said, contently smiling, "it's time to hunt a pirate."
The day for his revenge had come at last.
He had exited the carriage that had been escorting him to his destination. Before he set foot onto the cobblestone street, he put his tricorn hat upon his head and took a deep breath. Today was the big day.
He walked in through the ornate walnut doors and made his way towards the office. He was feeling a bit nervous, but he had waited for this day for a long time. He had worked so hard to get where he was that he felt he deserved this. All of his life he wanted to do this, and now he would finally get the chance.
He walked through the door to see him sitting behind his desk in a leather chair, perusing through his ledger.
"Commodore," he said to the man sitting in the chair, saluting him. The Commodore looked at the young man before him and said "Lieutenant. So glad you could make it. Please, sit down."
The Lieutenant sat down in one of the chairs facing the Commodore's desk. As the Commodore started to close his ledger, the Lieutenant made sure his uniform was straightened out properly while also taking off his hat to be as formal as possible for this meeting.
"I am so glad that we finally have the privilege of meeting at last," the Commodore said, "I apologize that we haven't had the chance beforehand."
"It's quite alright by me, sir," the Lieutenant responded, "We all have to perform our duties for His Majesty."
"Indeed," the Commodore said, grinning, "I took the liberty of examining your records, and I must say that I have never seen a more experienced officer of your age in my life. Participated in sixteen different engagements under the command of one Captain William Johnson, reportedly sunk at least twenty enemy vessels, single-handedly killed forty-seven men that we know of, and rumor has it that your crewmates describe you as having 'the luck of the Devil.'"
The Lieutenant chuckled at that last comment, and said "The men I serve with are very illustrative and like to exaggerate. You know how it is with soldiers and sailors, spreading gossip."
"But it certainly isn't gossip the fact that these numbers exist," the Commodore said, very pleased with the Lieutenant's record, "You seem very much like the sort of man that would make a great addition to our company. I am prepared to offer you a position in our fleet, with a promotion to the rank of Captain, double the pay you currently receive, and your own ship to command."
"I'm flattered, truly," the Lieutenant said, "but my loyalties are with King and Country. I think I'm better off where I am in the Royal Navy."
"Are you sure about that?" the Commodore asked, "A man of your talents deserves all the benefits he can get from such an honorable position. And make no mistake, you still will be serving King and Country with me. What we do is make sure that trade among allies of our glorious empire remains in tact. In short, you will continue to do what you have done in the Navy, but more direct. Not only will you transport goods, but you will be protecting merchants from the threat of pirates that threaten their lives and livelihoods."
"I do hate pirates," the Lieutenant said, "Can't stand to think of those blighters. They're a scourge to this earth that need to be eradicated if we're to have peace."
The Commodore lightly smiled as he looked at his desk for a moment, and then his attention returned to the Lieutenant and said, "I also understand from your record that your father was one, was he not?"
The Lieutenant's hand balled into a fist at the mention of his father, whereupon he said to the Commodore, "Make no mistake, I don't think anything of that man either. If I ever see him again, I will take great pleasure in shooting him myself."
"I understand completely," the Commodore continued, "I did have reservations about selecting you for this given who your father was, but your record and your mother's family have convinced me otherwise, along with your wife."
The Lieutenant smiled at the thought of his beloved, and the Commodore continued on, saying "How is my sister anyway? I regret not being able to attend the wedding. I hope that you have been treating her with the proper respect she deserves."
"I have," the Lieutenant responded firmly, "If my home was Great Britain, then she would be the Queen of it."
"I am glad to hear it," the Commodore smiled, standing up and offering his hand, "Do we have an accord?"
The Lieutenant didn't hesitate in standing up, and he took the Commodore's hand in his own and said, "We do."
"Welcome to the East India Trading Company, Captain. I know we'll do good business together," the Commodore said with a smile. He then gestured him to follow him out back of his residence where a naval dockyard resided. Directly in front of them was a magnificent frigate unlike any other that the former Lieutenant had seen in his life. The hull and its sails were a bright white color, and it structural design was unparalleled in his mind.
"165 feet long, 32 twelve-pound cannons, and a speed that it unparalleled by any other ship in our fleet," the Commodore explained, "And she's all yours."
"I am deeply honored, Commodore Beckett," the new Captain said, partially bowing, "Does she have a name?"
"Well Jonathan," Beckett began, "the builders have christened her The Wicked Wench."
Jack woke up with a start just like he had this morning, and saw that he was lying on the ground with his bottle of rum nearly empty. His head was pounding from the hangover, and he drunkenly got up and started to walk out of the tavern, continuing to drink from his bottle despite the pain in his head. As he wandered out onto the street, he saw that it was starting to get darker out and the rain was pouring out even harder, washing away some of the mud on his clothes. As he continued to wander, he could've sworn that he had the most peculiar dream.
Preparing to take the last sip from the bottle, a loud boom sounded through the air and a musket ball shattered his bottle, to which Jack jumped back and shouted "Can people stop shooting at me while I drink in peace!?"
"There he is!" a voice shouted, and Jack saw at least half a dozen Redcoats rushing up to him. Two of them restrained his arms, while their leader walked up calmly with his hands behind his back.
"We got him, Captain Scarfield! We got Jack Sparrow!" one of the soldiers holding Jack said.
"How many times do I have to say it? It's 'Captain' Jack Sparrow. The 'Captain' is paramount, gentlemen," Jack said, rather annoyed.
"The only thing that's paramount is that you'll be hanged for your crimes on the morrow, pirate," Scarfield spat at Jack, and gestured to one of his men to come forward and he knocked Jack out with the butt of his musket.
Once Jack was knocked out, Scarfield's men took the unconscious pirate with them, and they would place him in the prison for the night before he would be executed.
A/N: Hey everyone! Spent here! Sorry for the length of this chapter, I just wanted to get out as much as I could for this week. More content is sure to come soon. Until then, read, review, and share this story with as many people as possible. I hope you guys enjoyed the longer read and the numerous twists I put in, and I'll see you guys later. Stay classy!
-Spent