The hallway was dark and daunting as David walked, towards George's den. The fall night air was coming though the windows – shutters not tied down, as they should be to keep the chill out. He shivered unknowingly and paused before he knocked on the door at the end of the corridor. David had last seen his friend George the previous night at his family's annual ball. He was one of the younger Mayfield's oldest friends yet he still was apprehensive for the call to enter from the other side of the door. David was also aware of George's anger. When he had mentioned the birth of Elizabeth's baby to him yesterday he saw in his cold eyes -how it burned him to not have that beautiful woman in his arms.

"Come in." said the deep, muffled voice.

David shrugged and tried to look uplifting as he entered the room. When he stepped in he felt the warm heat of the fire radiating from the mantel. And in front of him, just to the right of the fireplace sat George, in his large, throne-like armchair, restlessly tapping his fingers. The light from the flames was casting an orange glow on his face – the muscles in his brow were obviously tensed. For a moment he said nothing, he merely looked to the short young man of twenty-three and searched in up and down. David almost laughed at his skepticism. "It's me George, come on now – why did you call me to your house at this hour? It must be something important."

He nodded and stood from the chair, walked slowly to the other side and rested his hands on the back it, his face still gazing at the fire next to him. "You're right. You're my best friend and I know I can trust you… " Again he paused, wanting to think of the best way to unfurl his plan. " I've been thinking David. I've been thinking very deeply and searching my heart for the answer to my most burning question."

David was silent, knowing that George would want it that way, and also he was slightly afraid for what he was going to say.

"You know I've loved Elizabeth from the moment I met her. And even though half a decade separated us in age it was mere trifle to my heart for I've always known the was the one for me." His hand tightened in to a fist and his shoulders slightly slumped forward, leaning in closer to the flame. "When I learned she had run off with that blacksmith I thought my heart was going to burst. And now I see her here again with that man and his child and it burns me – no, it pains me to see them together, and to know that in secret she is dying. She is dying to be freed from that hell hole of a marriage." George looked to David who was leaning against the wall with wide-eyed interest in what he was saying. "I've decided my plan of action."

David looked at him and shifted his feet. "Go on…"

"The only reason she agreed to matrimony with that son of a pirate was because of that baby… That baby is the only thing that stands in the way of my happiness."

His friend tilted his head and pursed his lips, knowing now what George meant. His dark plan was beginning to reveal itself – now he assumed he knew why his old friend had brought him here. "So what do you intend to do?" He asked, already knowing the answer as his heart sank.

"I'm not going to kill it, if that's what you think." George retorted, his voice slightly rising. But soon he found his composure again and fingered the wood carving in the back of his large chair. "I'm going to take the child…I'm going to find a way for Elizabeth to be free from – it."

"But how? You can't just break into the Swann Mansion and take a baby! Everyone will know by morning George…"

He looked up from his preoccupation with the oak chair and gave him a slight grin, one he might have missed if the glow was not bouncing off his chiseled face. "Of course I'm going to do nothing. I leave it to you to find me a suitable employee for the job."

David's tongue was caught in his mouth and his heart jumped at the proposition. "But I – George I cant… do you realize how much trouble we could be in?"

His friend approached him and with forceful kindness put a hand on his shoulder. "You know how much this means to me don't you?"

He nodded, looking away.

"Good. You're the only man I can trust. Everything will work out just as I planned it if you promise to follow me… do you promise?" George's tone of voice was not more reminiscent of a father talking to his son: more commanding and insinuating than asking.

David nodded again and he found his voice, yet weak as it was. "I promise."

George smiled and put his hand in the pocket of his robe and pulled out a leather pouch, which he placed in the palm of his friend. "Go to the docks tomorrow and find a few men there. Look for someone who you think couldn't refuse some extra gold – even from the hand of the devil. Find someone who is down on their luck… they wont be able to refuse you. Bring…" George looked to the ceiling in thought. "Bring me four. I might need to take a look at them before I give them such a demanding task. " He said, the coy, charming smile returning to his face.

"And when I find them…then what?" The shorter man asked, feeling the weight of the pouch, knowing the amount inside was ungodly.

"Then bring them to the Prancing Pony, the tavern just beside the wharf. I'll be waiting inside, in the back with everything they need to know."

David nodded, still unable to weighty burden that his friend at just placed on his shoulders.

"Alright then." George said before he gave a mighty yawn. "Go, it's late. I shall see you tomorrow afternoon, my friend."

Without a thanks or even a handshake David left the warm room and returned to the dark and cold hallway, although relieved to be out of his friends company. Its true that he and George had been through a lot together, they were both son's on rich businessmen, grew up together in England and moved to Port Royal around the same time. Always, in their childhood were they getting into trouble, but there was something that happened before their adolescence ended when George began to convey his ruthlessness. Sure, the friends had always been ornery, just as many teenagers were. But George showed a slightly deeper anger, a slight glimmer of cruelty in him. It was then that David knew how different he and his old friend were. But he also was aware that the worse thing in the world for him to do was to ignore an order given to him by George Mayfield. Enemies of that man regretted ever crossing him. So David breathed in and sucked up his morality and pride as he put the leather pouch in his pocket, retreated quickly down the hall and back to his carriage that was waiting for him outside.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Marty sat on the barrel near the docks watching the men walk by. They were loading and unloading ships all day and yet his own ship had left him there in Port Royal without so much as a warning. He had remembered the day before he was stranded when Jack had mentioned something to the crew about going back to St. Domingo, going back to check on something. Then he and Gibbs went to the Tavern for a little wine and moan before they shipped out. The only problem was that Marty had wandered off in his drunken state and somehow ended up in a stable on the other side of town in a stall with a pig named Sue. When he hurried back to the docks with his splitting head making him cringe the whole way – it was too late and the Pearl had left him. His feet dangled from the barrel for his dwarf frame hindered him from reaching the ground. But that was about all it troubled him with – chairs and stools. He had learned from a young age that being a little person was what he made it: a burden or a part of life. Of course Jack had made him a member of the Pearl when he was in desperate need of a crew but he was a sailor and a pirate all the same. Now he was a pirate without a ship, not knowing when it was, or if ever going to return for him. For now he sat in the hot, Caribbean son, thinking of how he was going to meet back up with Captain Sparrow and the crew, slightly depressed and angered for being so foolish.

A man in a nicely steamed suit walked by him, for at least the tenth time since he sat here. This time Marty turned his head as he passed, looking at the man up and down. He was short, not nearly as short as him – but his stature was still not impressive. And his face was in a constant state of panic, his hands moving around his pockets and jacket. His eyes were searching the faces around him then they stopped and rested on Marty. The little man turned back around, not wanting to draw attention to himself but it was too late. David approached him and walked around to talk face to face.

"Uh hello… I was – I was wondering if you were in need of a job." He said nervously.

Marty looked at him skeptically and answered with apprehension, his head tilted up. " Aye. What would you know of it?"

David gave him a relieved smile. "I have a business proposition for you."

The man with the nicely suit, and three other haggard looking men went with Marty, across the street to the pub, the Prancing Pony. It was in the early afternoon hours but there was already a rowdy bunch of men, stinking of ale causing trouble around the dim, smoke filled room. The nervous man was beginning to stop his fidgeting as he led the four scrappy looking sailors to the back of the room, where a tall, broad shouldered man was waiting for them. When they all approached, and he stood up, again Marty noticed how well these two men were dressed.

George looked at the men he had brought and smiled at his friend. "Good work." He said, patting him on the shoulder, hard.

David nodded with a forced smile, relieved that George wasn't displeased and also glad that his part in this dark plan was over.

Now the tall, dark haired man stood with his hands behind his back, looking at each one of the mangy men. He stopped in front of the one on the far left. "Are you very agile?"

The man merely stared at him, a quizzical expression on his face.

"I say, are you very agile?" George asked again, his patience leaving.

"Eh…Pero no hablo ingles Senor"

George sighed heavily and took the man by his coat and tossed him towards the door then went quickly back to his chair and sat heavily. He looked to David with accusing eyes. "He didn't even speak English…"

"I-I'm sorry George." David said, attempting to recover.

George looked at his three remaining candidates and passed up Marty immediately. The other one was an old man, barely able to walk into the dingy establishment. The next one was a fat, short man with his beard longer than his waist shirt, and when George approached, his toothless grin showed itself. George was disgusted and held his temple in frustration. Marty, as well was growing impatient for he wished these haughtily dressed rich men would get to the point and stop wasting his time.

"Ah listen..." He began, as George looked down on him. "If you're done here, I'll be leaving." He turned to leave but the tall man stopped him.

"No wait… you speak English?"

"Aye."

George inspected him. "You're quite small."

Marty's brow furrowed and he jumped up on the table; eyes level with George and challenged him. "What about it?"

George was impressed with how quick he was and smiled his charming smile. "Nothing sir, sorry to offend you. Would you be interested in making a little money?"

Marty paused and looked to the man next to him, the shorter one as he took a leather pouch out of his pocket and opened it slightly so the gold inside shown in the torch light. "Aye. I could stand to have a bit more weight in my pockets." He looked back and forth from one man to his friend. "What's your job?"

George smiled and offered a seat to him, which he took. He dismissed the bearded pirate still hanging around then leaned across the table. With all persuasion and charm he could muster, George retold his plan to the pint-sized pirate, allowing him to take in the story. He left out the names of course. Such as Will Turner and Elizabeth – for he hadn't even said that his name was George Mayfield to any of them, he wanted secrecy. What he did tell him was that he needed to take this child, from this house, and that he was going to take care of it. No need to worry for the baby's safety or reasoning behind it – all he needed to be occupied with was how to get in the house quietly, get out quickly, and take his reward with his mouth shut. Marty listened intently as he spoke. Something in the back of his mind told him this wasn't the best of ideas… but he was alone. No one would ever know he was involved in a kidnapping. Pirate or not, Jack would never approve of such things. But he needed the extra money, and the job seemed easy enough

The two men had struck an accord as they shook hands.