POTC: Cortez's Uncharted Islands Chapter 9: The Clan Of Cortez, a pirates of the caribbean fanfic

A/N: Please leave me some more reviews. Not that I'm complaining, but only 9 reviews thus far is not that much.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 9

Monterro awoke uneasily. As he opened his eyes, he immediately became aware of a painful throbbing in his head, almost as if he had been struck hard in the face by something. But as Monterro slowly pulled himself to his feet, he suddenly realized that it was now daytime. Monterro rubbed his eyes, blinking continuously under the overpowering glare of the bright sun. The sight that met Monterro caused his mouth to slightly hang agape.

Crumpled forms of his personal guards who were either dead or unconscious lay strewn about all along the ground as others who were conscious and active went about their duties of cleaning up this mess. In the distance, Monterro could see a line of gray smoke rising into the air, clearly an indication of the aftermath of a fight which involved cannon fire. Heaving a deep sigh, Monterro turned around and entered his home, where he was met with another surprising sight.

Sitting comfortably in one of the living room's plush armchairs was a man attired in black, almost piratical clothing. In his hand, this man clutched a glass of brandy that Monterro recognized as his own. The man sported a scraggly beard that accompanied small, evil eyes that gave him the appearance of a hardened criminal, which Monterro assumed he was. Monterro also noticed that this man sported an assortment of weapons stuffed into his belt. Monterro glanced around worriedly for guards of his, but found none in the desired vicinity. The man looked up from his drink and smiled in a manner most uncomfortable for Monterro.

"About time you woke up," the man spoke in an American accent, "I've been waitin' for you to wake for nearly three hours."

"Who are you?" Monterro asked sharply, not wasting time with any pleasantries. "And how did you get past my security?"

The man chuckled as if he were amused. "You mean those idiots with guns and swords you call soldiers? I believe the correct term would be 'lax' in describing those people. My name is Jacob McGivens," he added, standing up from his seat.

"So, Mr. McGivens, perhaps you could enlighten me as to why exactly you have broken into my house?"

McGivens smiled before downing the contents of his glass and tossing the fragile item carelessly into the fireplace, where the previous night's fire had long since been extinguished. "I think you're familiar with a Captain Jonathan Barnet, correct?"

Monterro's face suddenly became pale upon hearing those words. He cleared his throat in an attempt to calm his nerves. "Yes. What's it to you?"

"Well, as it turns out Mr. Monterro, we are both workin' for the same man. And I'm here on business for Barnet."

"Does this concern the events of last night? If it does, then how could Barnet possibly be aware of it?"

McGivens smirked. "You of all people should know that Captain Barnet is extremely well-connected. Of course he knows about what occurred last night, and he's not at all pleased with the outcome. As it so happens, my ship was on the way over here and I received a message from Barnet informing me about how to proceed."

Monterro, understanding full and clear what McGivens was saying, pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and dabbed at his sweating brow. He then crossed over to where the brandy sat beside one of the living room's windows and poured himself a stiff drink. Monterro gulped down the liquid and wiped his lips nervously. Discreetly, Monterro felt around for his small pistol under the table, but suddenly realized with a sinking heart that the pistol was no longer there.

"Lookin' for this?" came McGivens' voice from behind Monterro, who turned around to see McGivens holding the very pistol Monterro was searching for. McGivens regarded the weapon with an air of disappointment. "Really, Monterro, it is futile to think that you can stop me." McGivens tossed the pistol away so that it crashed through a window and landed outside.

As McGivens slowly began to approach Monterro, Monterro turned back around and desperately began to search for any type of an alternative weapon. He then heard the sound of something metallic being pulled from a sheath, but before Monterro could investigate the source, he felt a sharp tip plunge deep inside his back. The pain was unbearable and Monterro opened his mouth to scream, however no sound came out. Next came McGivens' sneering voice inside Monterro's ear.

"It seems you've outlived your usefulness to Captain Barnet. He sends his regards, though."

McGivens pulled his knife out of Monterro's back swiftly, leaving a fresh bloodstain where the weapon was only seconds before. The lifeless form of Quen Monterro fell to the floor as McGivens wiped the fresh blood off his knife indifferently, using Monterro's handkerchief. Once that was done, McGivens slid the snake-themed knife back into its miniature sheath and calmly strutted over to where a candle was still burning on a small table. McGivens picked up the candle and let the flame touch one of the living room's many curtains, which allowed a massive fire to start spreading up its length.

McGivens took one last look at Monterro's lifeless form before walking out the back door of the house as the fire he started quickly began to spread around the room. McGivens found his men waiting for him out back.

"What are you doing?" one of them asked.

McGivens shrugged. "Barnet wanted no loose ends, so that is what I'm doing. Monterro has done his part, now it's up to us to complete the task." He turned back around to observe the house, which had now become completely engulfed by the flames. "We should get moving," said McGivens. "Before anyone notices us. Also, the meeting takes place tonight and we can't afford to miss it."

McGivens led his men back to their ship, which was currently moored on the other side of the island.

In their private quarters, Will and Elizabeth were catching up on their sleep after the previous night. The Black Pearl was nearing its destination very quickly, as the rest of the crew were going about their duties diligently, not wanting to be badgered further by their rather eccentric captain.

Up on deck, Michael and Jacquelyn were passing the time by watching the crew of the pirate ship in amusement as they went to and fro, either attempting to improve on the ship's sailing condition or cleaning the vessel itself. Both of the children were sitting atop discarded empty barrels, a grin of pleasure spread across each of their faces. Michael and Jacquelyn both possessed an intense fascination with piracy, which had been heightened considerably after both of them had learned about their connection to the subject through their very own parents. Being aboard the well-known pirate ship The Black Pearl while its crew was in the midst of yet another harrowing adventure was a dream of theirs that Michael and Jacquelyn were delighted to see come true.

From afar, Jack was curiously observing Jacquelyn, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of contemplation and suspicion. He nudged Bootstrap, who was next to him and in the process of helping haul heavy objects onto the main deck.

"Bootstrap, mate, exactly why is that little girl aboard my ship if she is not one of William and Elizabeth's children?"

Bootstrap turned around to see what had attracted Jack's attention and smiled. "I'm afraid that I'm not the right person to answer that question for you, Jack."

"Then who would be the proper person, pray tell?" asked Jack.

Bootstrap shrugged. "I'm sure William and Elizabeth will tell you in due time."

Jack now looked at Bootstrap in a suspicious manner. "From your choice of words, Bootstrap, I'm able to deduce that this young...child, for lack of a better pirate term, has something to do with me."

"My lips are shut tight on this one, Jack," answered Bootstrap.

"Then you wouldn't mind at all if I were to inquire further into this matter by asking the girl a few questions, eh?"

"Be my guest," said Bootstrap, as he gestured toward Jacquelyn with an outstretched arm. He then went back to his work.

Jack took his opportunity and strode over to where Michael and Jacquelyn were sitting. The instant she noticed him, Jacquelyn's face lit up, an action that caused Jack to become even more curious about her. When he was close enough, Jack squatted down so that Jacquelyn and him shared eye contact.

"Greetings, miniature girl. May I ask your name?"

"My name is Jacquelyn, Captain. Jacquelyn Thomas."

Jack smirked, showing off a few of his golden teeth. "I see you have the sense to call me 'Captain', very good." He paused, clearly thinking about something. "Thomas, you say? Why does that name sound familiar?"

Jacquelyn, eager to elaborate on this, jumped to her feet hastily. "You might have known my mum, Captain."

"I don't seem to recall anyone with your last name. By the way, where is dear old mum?"

"I don't know," Jacquelyn answered truthfully. "Michael's parents just brought me along for some reason."

"Did they, now?" Jack glanced up at Michael, who was still sitting on his barrel. "Mikey, where would your parents happen to be at the moment?"

"Below deck. They're sleeping right now, Jack."

"Not to be rude or anything," Jack said, "but would you mind calling me 'Captain Jack'? It seems to have a much nicer ring to it, wouldn't you say so?"

"Does the 'Captain' part really matter that much to you?"

Jack huffed at Michael's question. "My dear Michael, I'm Captain of a ship," Jack told him as he gestured around regally with his ring-covered fingers, "and being Captain of a ship, I possess a sense of authority with my crew. Oi!" Jack shouted at Pintel and Ragetti, who were passing by, "I order you two to race across the deck. The winner receives a coin from me private stash. Go!"

Pintel and Ragetti immediately dropped what they were doing and both ran toward the opposite end of the ship. Once they had reached it, Pintel and Ragetti raced back. As they were doing so, Jack heard Pintel say, "Why does the Captain always single us out for things like this?"

"Because he knows we'll do whatever he asks," replied Ragetti.

Pintel shrugged and nodded his head in agreement, seeing no argument sufficient enough to challenge that statement. The pair then approached Jack, out of breath. Jack eyed them in amusement, reached into one of his pockets, and flipped a coin in the air, which Ragetti caught.

"Good work. Now, back to your stations! There's no lazing around on the Black Pearl! Honestly, ninnies!"

Pintel and Ragetti gave each other a look of exasperation and went back to their ship duties. When they were gone, Jack turned back to Michael and Jacquelyn. "See? No one dares defy Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

"Yeah," Michael said, "I savvy."

"Excellent! Now– ..." Jack's words were abruptly cut short by Bootstrap calling out to him from across the deck.

"Jack! We could use some extra muscle over here!"

Jack glanced over to where Bootstrap and a few other crew members were attempting to haul something very heavy from below deck. Rolling his eyes, Jack straightened himself to his full height and looked back down at Michael and Jacquelyn.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some very important ship matters to deal with. But I hope to continue this little conversation of ours sometime soon." As Jack began to walk toward the group, he called out, "Oi! Put your backs into it! Haul! Haul!" He raised his arms violently over his head, miming lifting something up into the air.

Michael and Jacquelyn watched him go, clearly entertained by how he bossed around his crew.

"When do you think your mum and dad will tell him about me?" Jacquelyn asked Michael.

"I dunno," Michael replied, "whenever they want to, I guess."

At that moment, Will and Elizabeth were still sleeping in their personal quarters on the ship. Will was resting soundlessly, but Elizabeth, who was laying beside him, was struggling and sweating slightly under the covers of their bed.

Elizabeth's dreams were the cause of this; they were filled with uncomfortable visions of something Elizabeth hoped to never see become real. But this particular dream was more like a vision of an event that seemed imminent.

Elizabeth had been dueling for quite some time. Sweat was pouring relentlessly down her face as she willed her tired arm to continue parrying each swipe of the sword sent her way. Her surroundings were rather odd; it was as if Elizabeth was inside some sort of ship, but the ship had clearly been withered and decayed by time. Elizabeth knew she was inside the Captain's Quarters, because no other part of a ship was this spacious.

She could feel her body begin to give up, but Elizabeth's heart told her she mustn't. For a reason she could not quite figure out, Elizabeth knew that she had to do everything in her power to win this duel; her future depended upon it. But the person Elizabeth was fighting seemed not to be exhausted from this ordeal whatsoever. He showed no indication at all of being tired or slow in his movements, on the contrary, it was as if Elizabeth's opponent could not become tired.

In her left hand, Elizabeth clutched a vial of a neon green-colored liquid. Just like she knew that she had to win, Elizabeth knew that she had to do her best to protect the contents of this vial. The vial at first took on a tubular shape, but then expanded into a more circular base where the majority of the liquid was stored. The green liquid itself was thick, thick as blood, and appeared to be radiating a faint glow from within the vial.

All of a sudden, Elizabeth was forced to the ground, her sword flying in one direction and the vial rolling across the floor in the other. It did not look as if the vial had been broken or cracked, and that was very important because something in Elizabeth's mind told her that the green liquid could not be spilled. Elizabeth then looked fearfully up into the face of her adversary, who was now towering over her. The person's face was hidden in shadow, but the sword grasped in their right hand gleamed brightly and ominously in Elizabeth's eyes. And slowly, the person stepped into the ray of light that was coming in from the cabin's window.

When Elizabeth saw the face of her dueling opponent, she gasped in absolute shock. No, she thought, it can't be! Elizabeth gazed into the person's eyes, which radiated a cold expression of determination unlike any Elizabeth had ever seen.

But before any type of sound could escape Elizabeth's mouth, the person standing over her raised their sword high and began to bring it down in Elizabeth's direction. Suddenly, a blinding flash of light blocked everything from view, causing Elizabeth to shut her eyes tightly. When she finally opened them, Elizabeth found herself standing face-to-face with Tia Dalma, who had a mysterious grin plastered across her face.

Elizabeth looked around and noticed that they were surrounded by a blanket of pure white, with not a single object of any kind within sight. Elizabeth looked down to see that she was still wearing the clothes she had fallen asleep in, even her sword was tucked inside its sheath. Glancing back up at Tia Dalma, Elizabeth fixed the fortuneteller with a confused expression.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"I've managed to find a way to enter your thoughts, Mrs. Turner," Tia Dalma replied in her usual mysterious tone.

"So...what I just saw...that was your doing?"

"What you have just seen is a brief glimpse of the future, Mrs. Turner. A future that's not too far off."

It was as if someone had just drenched Elizabeth's insides with ice-cold water. "You mean...that's going to happen? That was a real vision?"

"Indeed," Tia Dalma nodded.

"But...how...?" Elizabeth sputtered.

"The quest you are currently caught up in, Mrs. Turner, will set in motion events that will inevitably lead to what you just saw. It will be one of the important events that may help shape your destiny."

"Destiny?"

"The next chapter of your life will begin with tragedy, Mrs. Turner. I told you that. Do you remember what follows?"

Elizabeth racked her mind, desperately searching for the answer. "Revenge," she answered hollowly.

"Aye," Tia Dalma smiled. "Revenge. You now seek revenge concerning your father's death. However, once that is finished, revenge will lead to desperation. What I showed you was part of that desperation."

"However, you did not show me the outcome of that particular situation."

"Nobody should know their own future," said Tia Dalma. "Our future is what we choose to make it. You've only seen a shadow of your future."

"Then it can be altered?"

"Not that part...just what happens after it. However, there may be a way to stop your vision from ever occurring."

"How?" Elizabeth asked eagerly.

"You mustn't let Cortez be brought back from the dead," intoned Tia Dalma. "If he is, then that will mean the return of the sea goddess Calypso in human form."

"And that will affect my future?"

"I can't tell you anything else. Just listen to my advice."

Before Elizabeth could inquire further into Tia Dalma's mystery, everything around her shimmered out of focus and blackness enveloped Elizabeth's mind.

Elizabeth awoke with a jolt. She could tell immediately that she had been sweating and struggling in her sleep; her face was moist and the covers around her were in a mess. Breathing heavily, Elizabeth wiped her forehead and turned to her opposite side, where Will was awake and staring at her intently.

"Are you alright?" he asked concernedly.

"I...don't know," Elizabeth answered in a low whisper. She cleared her throat.

She sat up slowly, bringing her knees into her chest. Will sat up with her and gently began to rub her back.

"Elizabeth, I know when something's troubling you. What is it?"

Elizabeth looked deep into Will's eyes, then stared back at the tops of her knees. "It was just a bad dream. Nothing to worry about, really."

"Are you sure?" Will questioned as he continued to show his affection.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine." She leaned over and kissed Will. "Why don't you get some more sleep? I think I'll go see what Michael and Jacquelyn are doing."

"Which reminds me," Will said as he grabbed Elizabeth's hand when she got up, "when are we going to tell Jack that he's a father?"

"At the opportune moment," Elizabeth grinned back at him. She made to leave, but Will kept hold of her hand.

"So everything's alright, then?" he asked her one more time.

"Yes," Elizabeth reiterated. She leaned down and kissed him once more. Again, she tried to walk away, but Will kept her hand in his grasp. He kissed it softly before letting her go.But Will could not help but wonder what Elizabeth had seen in the dream of hers that caused her to become so troubled.

Will went over this again and again in his mind until he could no longer comprehend it. Sighing, he laid back down and went back to sleep.

Hours later, day had given way to night. The Black Pearl was currently anchored out in the middle of a small portion of the ocean, its lamps on deck shining brightly under the blanket of blackness that had consumed everything. The people onboard were in the process of securing the ropes that were used to lower the ship's longboats into the shallow waters. Inside the longboat sat five people: Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Smith, and Gibbs. All five of them were acting rather shifty, as if they were expecting an ambush the moment the longboat had been placed in the water.

The moment the longboat had been lowered into the sea, Jack set to work by rowing with the wooden oars he clutched in both of his hands. Will and Elizabeth were checking over the condition of the weapons stuffed into their belts, making sure that each sword and knife was properly sharpened, each pistol loaded with enough gunpowder. Smith eyed them in slight amusement.

"I don't see the point behind bringing weapons," he said. "The guards stationed at the entrance will only force you to remove them before entering the chamber."

"Chamber?" asked Will. "There's a chamber on the island?"

Smith grinned. "It's more inside the island, if you understand my meaning."

"How do we get there?"

"Just follow me, and everything will be fine."

For the next few minutes, nobody said a word. The longboat floated along silently over the still waters, gradually approaching an island that housed several congregations of palm trees and a massive rock cave. The cave was crudely formed, sporting many jagged edges. To get into it, there was a narrow strait of water, large enough for a longboat, that led into its open mouth. Inside, the faint glimmer of torches was visible, the only light in plain sight.

The Pearl's longboat glided gracefully along the strait, hardly making any sound at all. Within minutes, it had sailed into the mouth of the cave and was now making its way toward the group of torches that was radiating the only light inside the dark and cavernous location.

On either side of the narrow strait, there were stretches of land that followed the strait, leading to a spit of land at the end of it. Elizabeth observed these land pieces and saw things that were truly unnerving. Scattered about along the land strips were skeletons, obviously the remains of people who had long since met their demise inside this cave. Swords stuck out from in between the bones that comprised the rib cages, some swords even protruded from odd locations such as the empty eye sockets and the mouths. Elizabeth looked away from the skeletons, unable to stomach the gruesome sights. Smith saw what Elizabeth had been looking at and leaned in closer to her.

"Not a pretty sight, eh? What you see is what remains of those unfortunate souls that attempted to gain entry without a coin of The Clan."

"So no one from the outside has ever managed to infiltrate The Clan?" inquired Will.

"No. The Clan Of Cortez is extremely strict in the security measures it takes in order to ensure that the identities of each member are kept confidential."

"I hate secrets," said Jack. "Unless, of course, it's me who has the secret."

Just then, the longboat reached the spit of land and the light emanating from the torches on the cave walls cast everything and everyone in a better light. Jack picked up the rope in the longboat, searched for the item to tie it around, and did so. Everyone then stepped out onto the landmass, glancing cautiously in every direction for any indication of life.

For a few moments, nothing happened. There was no sound of movement nor flicker of a shadow that would have given away the presence of someone else in the cave. Jack was the one to finally step toward the cave wall in front of the group, one hand on his belt and the other outstretched so that he could caress the stone. However, the instant Jack's fingertips made the slightest contact with the wall, it rumbled and began to move aside; Jack jumped back. A portion of the cave wall was indeed sliding sideways, clearly a hidden door that led to something. Once the secret door had been fully opened, three armed men swarmed into the cave, rifles aimed at the pirate crew. There were shouts of phrases such as "Hands up!" and "Don't move!" as the three men formed a line in front of the group.

"Toss out your weapons and raise your hands!" barked the man in the middle.

Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Smith, and Gibbs all obliged and removed each and every one of their weapons from their belts. They then tossed them at the feet of the armed men and stepped back, their hands in the air. The two men on the ends of the line bent down and scooped everything up while the center guard moved toward Jack and his four crewmates.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

Jack merely glanced at Smith, who saw this, nodded and cleared his throat. "We are here to attend the reconvening of The Clan Of Cortez."

The man looked penetratingly at Smith, as if searching for any sign that Smith was lying. Finding none, he slightly lowered his rifle. "Confirm?"

Smith reached into his pocket, pulled out his Cortez coin, and threw it up in the air toward the armed guard, who caught it. The guard held the coin up to the light and stared intently at it. Smith smirked at it. "Don't bother; it's genuine."

The guard eyed the rest of the group suspiciously. "And them? Are they members, too?"

"No," said Smith. He gestured toward Elizabeth. "But the woman happens to be the daughter of our murdered secret-keeper."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

The guard then turned his attention to Elizabeth. "I'm afraid I require proof of this claim."

"What do you wish to hear, then?" queried Elizabeth, her face impassive.

"Tell me something that only Weatherby Swann's daughter would know."

Elizabeth nodded to show that she accepted the question as fair, then began to cast around for things to say to this. She cleared her throat and stared directly into the guard's eyes.

"My father loved to buy me new dresses on any type of special occasion. When I was growing up, he was constantly under the impression that I was just like every other girl who grew up in the life of aristocracy; that is to say, he thought I wanted to be treated that way. I considered it rather irritable from time to time, however I didn't resent him for it. I loved my father very much."

Elizabeth delivered these words with undeniable feeling. She felt Will slip his hand into hers, and Elizabeth was grateful for the show of support.

The guard lowered his rifle when he had fully taken in Elizabeth's short speech, and motioned for his comrades to do the same, which they did. The guard stepped forward, his face unreadable. "Your answer is genuine enough." He then turned to Smith. "Very well, you may pass. But I'm not certain if I can allow your friends to do the same."

"Come off it!" Smith snapped. "I brought the next of kin of the secret-keeper here so that she could discover more about The Clan. Standard procedures in this matter dictates that she be allowed entry. You wouldn't want to defy protocol, would you?"

The guard glanced uncertainly between Smith and Elizabeth, clearly trying to make the right decision. "Alright, then," he said to Smith, "you and your friends may pass. Follow us."

The guards swept back around and walked through the still open secret doorway. Jack and the others followed them, but somewhat cautiously. The moment everyone had passed through the entryway, the stone door slid back into place.

Behind the concealed doorway was a stone staircase that twisted downward in a spiral. Jack and his crewmates followed the lead of the guards, looking at the walls on either side of them, which had rather unique symbols carved into them. The carvings depicted ships, obviously Spanish Armada vessels, sailing the sea and warriors who appeared to be Spanish soldiers, more likely the ones that had been under the command of Cortez himself, battling other soldiers with swords. The intricacy and detail of these carvings fascinated everybody and anybody who so much as glanced at them.

Soon, the staircase came to an end, and everyone found themselves standing in front of another doorway, where two more guards stood at attention on either side. The guards who had led the crew here informed the others of their status, and they allowed Smith and Elizabeth to pass. However, when the others tried to walk through, the two guards blocked their path with the spears that were clutched in their hands.

"Let them through," commanded one of the other guards. "They have special authorization from us."

One of the doorway guards looked reluctant to do so. "Our leader may not approve of such an action. He does not take kindly to outsiders."

"Let me worry about that. Now, let them pass." The guard put an emphasis on each of the last three words.

The two other guards did as they were told, allowing Jack and the others to pass. They soon joined Elizabeth, Smith and the two guards and began to walk through a narrow underground tunnel lined with torches. Every footstep echoed hollowly off the curved passageway, filling the silence in an eerie manner. The sojourn lasted for a few minutes until the contingent of people reached another door. This door was curved as well, and had a small sliding peephole in it. Once the first guard stepped close enough toward it, the peephole slid back.

"Seguro," said the guard; the Spanish translation of the word "safe".

The peephole slid back into place, and with a great creaking sound, the old wooden door opened inward. Without uttering a single word, Jack and his fellow crewmates stepped over the threshold, on the heels of their escorts.

What lay beyond this door was what Smith had talked about earlier: a secret and surprisingly spacious chamber. The chamber was lit by countless torches sitting on the elaborately carved stone walls. On the far wall of the chamber, there was an enormous map of the world plastered upon it. In the center of the room sat a gigantic round table; on the table's surface was the intricately carved crest of The Clan, made many times more bigger. Around the table were numerous wooden chairs, the majority of them occupied; two of the chairs were absent of inhabitants.

As the lead guard approached a man on the opposite side of the table who appeared to be The Clan's leader (he sat in a high-backed chair and seemed to be elevated higher than the rest of the men sitting down), Jack and his crew members remained in the doorway. They watched the guard converse with the leader of The Clan Of Cortez in hushed tones. When the guard had finished, the leader nodded and stood up, motioning for the guards to retreat to the side wall; they did.

The leader made his way around the large table and stopped in front of Elizabeth, offering his hand. Elizabeth eyed it and slowly put hers into it, shaking hands. The leader then brought Elizabeth's hand up to his lips and kissed it.

"Miss Swann," he began in a kind tone. "Welcome to Isla de Secretos. I am deeply sorry for your loss. Weatherby was a good man."

"It's Mrs. Turner, as a matter of fact," Will spoke up as he came to Elizabeth's side.

"Of course," said the leader. "Allow me to introduce myself. Alejandro Garza; leader of The Clan Of Cortez." Garza paused. "I've been informed that you came here because of your recent tragedy."

"Yes. My father was your secret-keeper. He left me a note explaining The Clan, its purpose, and what it protects. He wished for me to attend this meeting."

"That is both understandable and acceptable. After all, if the secret-keeper is murdered, then the duties of the position are passed on to any next of kin they may have."

"Well then consider this visit of mine my acceptance of the duties in which you speak of."

Garza nodded and motioned for Elizabeth to follow him; she did, accompanied by Will. The three of them made their way over to a raised platform behind the table. Garza stepped onto the platform and turned to face his guests.

"The Clan is facing a difficult decision. We must ensure the safety of what we've sworn to protect, but none of us has a ship or crew worthy enough of the task."

Jack dashed forward from the other side of the room. "If I may be so bold as to interject one's personal suggestion, me and my crew would me more than up to the task of finding and or protecting your treasure, mate."

Garza eyed Jack curiously. "And just who might you be, sir?"

Jack smiled. "I'm–..."

"Captain Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth finished for him.

Jack gave Elizabeth a look of disappointment. "You stole my thunder!"

"Captain Jack Sparrow, eh? I've heard of you, perhaps the most hunted man sailing the seven seas."

"You have heard of me, then!" Jack smirked.

"Like I said, I have a requirement for a venture as well as need for a ship and a crew. Because if the control of the Spanish Armada falls into the wrong hands, it would spell doom for the rest of us."

"Well, as it so happens, my father left the map that leads to the ships of which you speak of and the cache of stolen treasure that accompanies them."

"Did he, now?" asked Garza. "Can I see it?"

Elizabeth hesitated, looking over her shoulder at the table behind her. She placed her hand into the pocket where the map was stored. Monterro's words of another traitor in their midst rang in Elizabeth's ears, causing her to be a bit apprehensive about showing the map to Garza. "You would be amazed at how complicated a simple request like that can become," she answered finally.

Garza appeared confused. "What is so complicated about it?"

"I have reason to believe that there may well be a traitor in your midst," Elizabeth said loudly, turning around so that her words could be heard by everyone in the chamber.

Her words were met with an immediate uproar, as everyone stood up from their seats and started shouting. On his platform, Garza pulled a pistol from his belt and fired a shot off up at the ceiling. This caused everyone to become instantly silent.

"Who is this traitor?" Garza demanded, looking from face to face of each Clan member. "Let them reveal themselves!"

"The traitor obviously wouldn't do that because they would realize that they're outnumbered greatly," Elizabeth stated matter-of-factly. "We have no way of being sure of their identity."

One of the Clan members cleared his throat and spoke up. "How can you be sure that there even is a traitor? On what facts do you base this claim?"

"I was told so by another Clan member: Quen Monterro."

Garza replaced his pistol within his belt and drew a sword from his sheath. "Where is Monterro?"

"Dead, most likely. He was working with someone else within your ranks to help a man named Jonathan Barnet infiltrate The Clan and gain control of what you're protecting." Elizabeth paused. "The murderer of my father may be the same person who murdered Monterro. That would mean he would try to find a way to get inside this chamber and hear what we're discussing."

"Impossible. This chamber is nigh impregnable to anyone who doesn't have access," scoffed Garza.

"You're certain of that?" queried Elizabeth. "Because this killer may already have a spy of his own in here, cleverly disguised as a guard or a member."

"A baseless suggestion, Mrs. Turner. We've all been inside this chamber for quite some time."

Elizabeth thought about this carefully, trying to come up with a flaw in the fact. Finally, she found one. "How do you know that Barnet, the assassin's employer, didn't find a way to coerce someone in here to listen to what is discussed and then report directly to the hired gun himself?"

"This...Barnet has influence of that magnitude?" Garza asked nervously.

"We believe he does. Barnet already has the traitor who was working with Monterro, but what's to stop him from having a secondary plan?"

Garza's sword fell limply to his side and the man himself looked worried. "Then if what you say is true, then we must take action. Your crew has willingly volunteered to track down Cortez's treasure, along with his ships. Well, if the crew you're a part of is capable of such a task, Mrs. Turner, then I implore you to make sail with all haste and reach the island that they are kept on before our enemies do."

"My crew is more than capable!" Jack declared.

"Then the matter is settled. Find Cortez's ships and his treasure. But before you do that, you must hunt down an enchanted weapon known as La Espada Dorada."

"Translation being...?" Jack prompted.

"The Golden Sword. A sword forged by the finest gold; it has the power to kill any soul brought back from the dead. A useful artifact when combating the resurrected Cortez himself."

"Where is the sword located?" asked Elizabeth.

"On an island not far from here known as Isla de Muerta, otherwise known as The Island of Death."

"Isla de Muerta?" Jack said. "We've been there before!"

"You've been to the one in the mortal realm. Just beyond this island is a vortex created by the sea goddess Calypso herself in which the dead can roam free. You must navigate those waters and reach the other Isla de Muerta."

"How do we find it?" inquired Will.

"Trust me, you'll know it when you see it. But time is of the essence; you must leave now! Retrieve La Espada Dorada from Isla de Muerta, find the burial island, destroy Cortez's ships before they can be used for dark purposes, and kill the resurrected Cortez with The Golden Sword before he can summon forth Calypso in human form."

"That's quite a task," observed Jack.

"It's what is necessary. Captain Sparrow, your crew is the only hope The Clan has. You must accomplish this mission."

"We won't fail you," Elizabeth reassured Garza before Jack could say anything.

Garza watched Jack and his crew leave, the massive curved door shutting behind them. Unbeknownst to him and everyone else, the traitor observed them leaving, everything that had just transpired still fresh in his mind. Soon, the traitor would have what Barnet promised him, soon the Turners and Sparrow would pay for a past crime. All that was left to do was go to McGivens and inform him of what they had to do.