Chapter 3

There was a certain aura of disorganization that hung over the town of Tortuga. The pirate town seemed to be forever suspended in a drunken stupor of chaos and stupidity. The public pub was the main source of all this madness. Every night, all the drunken sailors would converge on the location, and it would immediately transform into a madhouse. And at the moment, that was exactly what it was.

The pub was filled with pirates whose brain cells had long been dumbed down by infinite amounts of rum. And yet, more rum was being consumed by the gallons without any hesitation. If anyone attempted to steal another person's bottle of rum, the thief would immediately receive a fist to the face followed by the fresh taste of blood in their mouth. Small brawls that had recently broken out between people were scattered around the room. In many ways, the scene was pathetic, yet amazing. Amazing in the sense that people could become so juvenile in times like this.

The door to the pub swung open, and Jack, flanked by his father and Gibbs, entered. They made their way to a table and sat down. Gibbs leaned in towards Jack.

"Now, where is this treasure expert of yours?"

"He should be in the room behind the bar." Jack glanced to a small door that was located behind the bar. "He prefers to drink in peace."

"How well do you know him?"

"I've been using him for years. He's the one who informed me of the Aztec gold and he also happens to be the person who further filled me in on the chest of Davy Jones."

Gibbs raised his eyebrow. "How could one person know so much about these types of legends?"

"Let's just say he's rather curious."

"He have a name?"

"Bloke only likes to be known as "Smith"."

"And you're sure he's reliable?"

"Positive."

Jack made to get up, but his father grasped his arm. "Jack, hold on."

"What is it?"

"Just need to clear something up."

"And what would that be?"

"The whole "Fake Prisoner" issue."

Jack sighed and sat back down. "What's left to clear up? You came up with a plan that I wasn't too keen on, but I had to go along with it. See, me, I'd have preferred to just steal the map and not have been all fancy about it."

"I'm sorry, son. It was the only way I could think of."

Jack grinned. "Well, we wouldn't be having this discussion if I had managed to steal the actual map in the first place and not a decoy. But, hey, how was I supposed to know McGivens would have a fake, uncompleted map for this exact reason in the first place?"

"But exactly why were you trying to escape?"

"You should know that improvisation is in our blood. I was merely trying to come up with an alternative plan on the spot. That and I was in the moment."

"So, all's forgiven?"

Jack stared at his father for a moment before grinning. "Yeah, I guess."

"Excellent. Now, by all means, take the next step on the pathway to our wealthiness."

Jack nodded and slunk his way towards the back room. On his way, a brawling pair rushed past him, one man clutching an unopened bottle of rum in his hands. Jack simply plucked it away from his grasp and carried on.

"Thanks, mate," he said.

Once Jack had entered the concealed room, James turned to Gibbs.

"Wanna get some rum," he asked.

"I don't want rum, I need it at the moment."

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The door to the pub's back room creaked open, and Jack slipped inside. There wasn't much to the room; torches and candles provided the only light, and in the center of the room was a single table with a lone man sitting in front of it. The man wore more civilized clothes than the rest of the pirates outside, although they were pretty old and dusty. The man was currently sipping a bottle of rum, and gazing intently at an open book. When the room's occupant noticed another person had entered, he looked up and smiled warmly.

"Ah, Captain Jack Sparrow," the man greeted Jack in a slightly scratchy tone.

"The one and only, mate," Jack smiled back. "Good to see you again, Smith."

"Same here. I haven't seen you since you wanted to find the key to unlock the chest of Davy Jones. Although, curiosity has taken a hold of me. To what do I owe this pleasant, unannounced intrusion of yours?"

"Think about it. To what do you always owe the pleasure of one of my...intrusions, as you so bluntly put it?"

Smith grinned. "Well, I would have to say that would be some type of valuable cache. In other words, treasure. So, what is it that you're after this time, Jack?"

Jack made his way over to the table, pulled up a chair and sat down. He then pulled out the map from his pocket, and tossed it in front of Smith. "This."

Smith picked up the map and unfolded it before examining it with curiosity. While he was doing so, Jack uncorked his bottle or rum and started to take long swigs from it. When Smith was finished, he gazed up at Jack in wonder.

"My God...Jack, do you have any idea what this is a map to?"

"No. I was actually hoping you could tell me that."

Smith took another sip of rum before continuing. "Jack, this is a map to find the fabled treasure of the Bermuda Triangle!" Apparently, this meant something to Smith.

"Ah," was all Jack was able to answer with.

"How much do you know about the Bermuda Triangle exactly," asked Smith.

Jack paused for a moment, thinking. "Am I obligated to know anything at all?"

"No."

"Then I don't know a lot."

"All the same, it makes it more fun in terms of storytelling."

"Before you become too involved in legends, will this take long?"

"Just listen, Jack."

"Wait a minute, how are you sure that this is the Bermuda Triangle map?"

Smith laid the map down on the table. "This symbol." He pointed out a small etching in the top right corner of the parchment. The etching was of a triangle, and in the center of it was a single closed eye.

"Ooooh, a triangle with a closed eye in the middle. What exactly does that mean?"

"Here we go. The Bermuda Triangle is the one place where many pirate ships have disappeared. They just vanish without a trace. Now, the legend of the Bermuda Triangle is simply fascinating. It is said that a very long time ago, three powerful goddesses, whose identities remain unknown, decided make a statement about how important and sometimes dominant feminism could be. So, they decided to join forces and create a vortex that's now known as the Bermuda Triangle."

"The male egos of the Gods were starting to get on their nerves, eh?"

Smith shrugged. "You could say that."

"What did these goddesses hope to achieve by creating this triangle?"

"They didn't want to gain anything. They just simply wished to have more power in the Heavens. Now, these goddesses weren't too fond of men at all. So, they cast a spell over the location that ensured that any man who sailed into it certainly wouldn't be coming out."

"Did these men meet their doom in any way?"

"No. The goddesses weren't interested in bloodshed. The first man ever to sail into the vortex became cursed. He gained the ability to change forms, morph into creatures. And the other part of his curse was to imprison any poor soul who happened to cross the triangle's threshold for eternity."

"So you're saying the Bermuda Triangle is a prison for pirates?"

"Pretty much."

"I'm curious now. Why would any pirate sail into a trap like that?"

"What's the one thing that every pirate desires most, Jack? Treasure." Smith held up the treasure map. "You see, the goddesses compiled many priceless pieces of treasure on the center island of the triangle; bait for pirates. The goddesses knew how dishonest and double-crossing men, especially pirates, could be. So, the Bermuda Triangle is the place where all pirates await judgement on their past crimes."

"Then if I attempt to find this treasure, I'll become a prisoner of the triangle myself." It wasn't a question.

"That is, unless you know the secret of how to sail across the triangle's threshold unscathed," Smith grinned knowingly.

"And what secret would that be?"

"This part is so interesting, yet so obvious. Since the triangle was created by goddesses, or women, then the key to sailing into the Bermuda Triangle safely is simply the presence of a woman aboard your ship."

Jack gave Smith a look. "You do know that a woman is pretty much a bad luck omen when sailing the seas, don't you?"

"Of course I know. But this time around, that's not the case."

"Ah," Jack mused, "so the tides have changed for this little escapade."

"Exactly."

"So I need to find a woman in order to obtain the treasure you speak of."

"Precisely."

Jack grinned. "Not a problem. But is this treasure really worth all the trouble?"

"Worth it," Smith snorted. "Of course it's worth it. This treasure will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams."

Jack nodded. "Alright. Now, only one thing's left to be cleared up. Who exactly is this person who guards over the treasure?"

"The protectors of the Bermudan Treasure have changed throughout the years. Now, however, the story goes that the guardian is the most notorious, vicious, and bloodthirsty pirate ever to sail the seven seas. I think you've heard of him. The man they call Blackbeard."

"Edward Teach, eh? Well, I always rise to a challenge. Anything else I need to know before I battle mystical forces and savage pirates?"

"No, I think you're well prepared. Just watch your back over there. Although, I will suggest you somehow delve deeper into the supernatural side of the story."

Jack smiled as he stood up and gathered the map from Smith. "Don't fret. I happen to know another expert on paranormal legends."

Smith looked surprised. "Better than me?"

"Well, she would certainly give you a run for your money."

"She?"

"Yeah. Let's just leave it at that, shall we? So, until next time." Jack gave Smith a small salute before exiting the room.

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"A woman," Gibbs asked incredulously. "But isn't that bad luck?"

"That's exactly what I said," Jack admitted, "but if that's the only way, then we really have no choice."

Jack, Gibbs, and James were currently making their way back to the Pearl.

"So it seems that we have a need, a consequential one mind you, to make one more visit on the side before really getting involved.

"But where are we going to find a woman willing enough to accompany us on our quest?"

"Two words, mate. Port Royal."