Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Disney's…. wish I did! :D
xxxxxxxxxx
Chapter 3: Action... And inaction
June 12th, Sunday continued
Gibbs and Annamaria both frowned darkly as they watched Jack prepare the small rowboat to be lowered off the side of the Pearl. Night had fallen some time ago and the moon was well hidden behind a large cloud.
"Jack, Capt'n" Gibbs started, and the pirate straightened and turned to him.
"Something has to be done, Mr. Gibbs. We can't keep all those people below decks, sitting in the crew's quarters, camped out in the holds, or wherever else you've managed to stash them all. They aren't our prisoners. Might I ask what you propose instead?" he asked, one hand painting an absent pattern in the air.
Gibbs made a face of dismay. He didn't have any other suggestion…. He just didn't like the idea of Jack making this little foray of his onto the island itself. And right onto the Governor's property itself?
Anna made a face of dismay as well.
"You don't even know if they still live at the last place that letter came from. And how is your going to see the whelp and his wife going to get that daft Commodore to stop shooting at us? You're just asking for trouble Jack. They live right on that same piece of land as the Governor's house. How do you know Norrington isn't up at the Governor's house right now, coming up with some brilliant plan to get rid of us? That man must have a mountain of cannon balls on hand with the way he's been dropping them into the sea all day!" she said hotly, and he smiled with a flash of gold.
"First of all, I doubt Norrington has the imagination to come up with a brilliant plan to get rid of us. Mediocre, perhaps… but not brilliant. And second, as you imply… she is the governor's daughter. All we need to do is get the young Mr. Turner and his missy to arrange for a time and place for us to let everyone off, and we're done." He said casually, with a wave of one hand and a confident grin.
"And all of the supplies and things the hold got filled with the other day?" she challenged, and he grimaced as if caught, then shrugged.
"Aye, that too. No room for more swag until we get rid of all that nonsense and clutter down there. And, I might point out, it was the crew that came to me wanting to collect those things? Wasn't my idea at all." He admitted with a dismissing gesture and she shook her head.
"No one said that vote was unanimous. I sure didn't like the idea. You won't find any of my stash contributed to their little cause. You been rubbing off on them in the wrong way if you ask me." She growled, watching as he turned back to look down at the small rowboat now resting on the surface of the water beside the large ship.
"I swear sometimes I think you are truly daft Jack," she told him, and he glanced at her with a quick grin.
"Why thank you luv'. Now be a help and keep our passel of passengers out of sight and I should be back before dawn…. hopefully, with a location we can deliver them to safely and soundly. Then we can be on our way" he quipped with an offhanded gesture and she rolled her eyes and looked resigned as he found the top of the ladder attached to the side of the ship and started his way down.
"You'd better be back Captain. The code doesn't say a thing about us being babysitters for a bunch of water pruned landlubbers forever and a day if you decide to 'fall behind'!" she leaned over the railing to call after him. Once in the small boat he grinned up and gave her his usual hands together little bow of thanks and then set about finding the oars and getting them into position.
Gibbs stood beside her as they watched the small craft with its lone occupant disappear into the darkness.
"Jack Sparrow is a good man Anna. He's the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean…. it's kind of his job to be tryin' to help those people. They live in his waters. You know that. Kinda' hard for anyone not to feel sorry for them, considering' half the town is gone right from under them." He said, and she frowned deeply.
"Aye! And tryin' to help is likely to get him killed one of these days! He may be daft, but I prefer he be daft and in one piece!" she said hotly and stalked off, leaving him to raise an eyebrow after her.
"That lass certainly has an odd way of showing how much she cares for a fellow." He muttered to himself, laughing softly.
xxxxxxxx
Commodore Norrington wandered the courtyard of the fort restlessly. He hated to admit even to himself just how unnerving it had been to have the Black Pearl sitting in the bay all day. Just sitting there, just out of reach - and doing nothing - not one blessed thing. At least his barrage had kept it from daring to come any closer.
"What kind of pirate sits in your waters and lets you lob shells at his ship the whole livelong day?" he muttered to himself crossly.
'One who knows you can't reach him,' that little voice in his mind answered quickly.
He scowled deeply and resisted the urge kick at something. He would not give in to his temper. He hadn't in years and the certainly wouldn't now.
"And of all the pirates who could possibly do such a thing, it has to be Sparrow?' he thought with annoyance. The last time when Sparrow had made a mockery of being hung, it had haunted him for months. It had made them the laughing stock of the island, and the questions asked from his higher-ups in other places had NOT been comfortable ones. He had never had to write more reports in his entire life. Why in the name of Heaven above hadn't somebody, someplace, managed to hang the man and rid the world of one more menace to society?
He stepped up to the battlements and looked out over the water. He couldn't even tell if the blasted ship was still there! He fumed furiously. It would be wonderful if he really believed that the next day would dawn to reveal a bay that was free of that cursed ship and its ridiculous 'captain'. But somehow, he was very certain that come first light that thing would be right where it had been. Taunting him - Sparrow was deliberately taunting him.
Suddenly an idea occurred to him. The ship was made of timber and caulking like any other. What if they tried to blow it out of the water in a more 'clandestine' way, say before sunrise? He stopped. Cannonballs they had mountains of on hand was one thing. But enough powder and a way to put a hole in that vessel large enough to sink it… that was a much rarer commodity.
It would take daring to somehow manage to find a hole in the Pearl and get a lit grenade charge in there, and perhaps even death for the poor sailor who attempted it. One good placed grenade and maybe they would set off the ships' own stores of ammunition and powder and blast the thing to pieces. Little itty-bitty tiny pieces.
He couldn't help but smile at the mental image of the ship being blown to bits in the darkness. It would be a perfectly brilliant explosion. Problem pirate and his crew, all taken care of. He sighed, rubbing at his chin. No, it was not guaranteed to work. He really should seek out the Governor's advice and agreement, but it sounded like a solid plan of action to him.
With that thought, he turned on his heel and left the fort.
xxxxxxxxxx
Jack Sparrow stood half hidden behind a tree in the garden, watching the modest-sized house before him. Aye - they still lived there on the Governor's property, in a smaller separate house of their own. Unfortunately, what he was witnessing was not a scene of domestic bliss but one of stress and tension.
The young blacksmith had been pacing back and forth before the lady, obviously quite excited about something from all the gesturing and scowling he was doing. And somehow Jack had a feeling it was very much connected to the Pearl's presence in the bay that day. Well, at least no one could accuse them of starting it all! It wasn't the Pearl that had sunk 38 cannonballs into the beautiful waters of the Caribbean before darkness finally put an end to the effort.
He looked both ways and saw no evidence of anyone - but stayed where he was. He, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, honestly wasn't sure what kind of reception he would receive if he went up those doors.
Not that he was nervous. Nervous was a word he never allowed himself to use. He didn't entertain any thoughts of an overwhelming and loving greeting all around - but he really didn't relish the image of being greeted with open hostility either. And by the lad's mood, he wasn't sure which he would receive. He kind of expected it to be the latter.
Jack still hesitated. The lad looked so exactly much like his father and was like him in temperament as well it seemed. For a moment in his mind's eye, he saw the boy's father and his dear friend Bootstrap Bill Turner pacing back and forth before him in a total fury over some completely daft scheme he'd pulled. But in those days, he seemed to have better luck at getting away with it. Now, well after the events with Barbossa, it was difficult to believe in being lucky. Cleverness and skill yes. Good timing perhaps, the opportune moment taken advantage of, even more so…. But just sheer dumb luck? Well, that was another matter entirely.
He folded his hands together in his normal way of saying thanks but brought them before his lips and then shook his head as if to clear it. Stay focused… now was not exactly the time for trips down memory lane, he told himself.
He studied the expanse of manicured lawn and well-placed shrubbery again with greater care. It didn't look like there was anyone around to come clap him in irons, and they really did need a way to rid the Pearl of her cargo - both human and otherwise. With that thought, he crossed the walkway and tapped lightly at the French doors. Then he took several steps back and away from it, just in case.
Xxxxxxxxxx