Drabble: Sins of the Father (Part 7)
Jack darted out of the tavern and sashayed down to the docks. He hadn't been lying when he had said he hadn't expected to see Will so soon. Frankly, he had been anticipating a confrontation with Norrington. However, he had been right in assuming they would use the St. Andrews when they did set out searching for him.
He quickly crossed the gangway and found that there were few men on the deck of the ship. He recognized one of them immediately and assumed he was Lieutenant Gillette. Quite frankly, his last encounters with Norrington's men hadn't exactly been a chat over tea, so they lacked a familiarity that would put them on a first name basis.
"Good evening, Gentlemen," he began in a loud voice. "No cause for alarm. Young Mister Turner and Miss Swann are perfectly safe and otherwise unharmed."
Gillette looked as if he had just seen a ghost. Apparently, he hadn't been prepared to actually face the elusive Captain Jack Sparrow again in his lifetime. "What are you doing here?" He finally managed to articulate. Jack grinned and then began speaking with his hands before he could even begin to vocalize the words.
"I'm afraid that, while Mister Turner and Miss Swann are both unharmed, they are, in fact, in need of your assistance.. .as it were." Gillette looked to the other crewmen that were aboard the ship then started towards the gangway. The last thing he needed was to have the governor's daughter become injured while in his care.
"Lieutenant, " Jack said as Gillette prepared to exit the ship. He haulted and turned back towards Jack, wondering what he could possibly want. "It might be best for all involved if you remove those wigs and jackets before you go charging into a port full of miscreants with pistols, savvy?"
Gillette again looked to the other officers who simply shrugged. He then nodded in nervous agreement and rid himself of his wig and naval garb. The other men quickly followed suit and hurried off of the ship and down the dock. Jack grinned wickedly then reached into his pocket and pulled out the small engagement ring he had been holding onto for nearly three weeks.
"Works better than a key," he said smugly to himself and then hurried below deck where the cargo was stored.