Author's Note: Hello and welcome to Chapter Twenty-Four of "Rubicon". I would like to thank everyone who took the time to read and those that reviewed, Kitty and Tiera-Tarie. Thank you both! I have no beta for this fic, so any grammatical or spelling errors that appear are my fault and my fault alone. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Pirates of the Caribbean.

October 1, 1731

Log,

I am locked away in a box. A small cabin that is, on a small ship heading for England. The air still shimmers with the heat of the Caribbean though and my brow is damp. Through the window I can see little other than the blue ocean and a few white clouds. The sun mocks me with its brilliance.

Two weeks have passed since the end of it all. For a long time I had not the heart to revisit those dark events, but this morning Anne asked me (in her ever soft manner) to record what has happened. She mumbled something of posterity and said that ours was not failure, but happy victory. We have escaped with our lives, she reminded me and most of our fortune. But my wife forgets that our reputation is in tatters and that Port Royal has fallen to Jack Sparrow. God damn him to Hell.

All was still chaos when I left, the harbor destroyed and some of the town in ruins. Sparrow left it that way, sailing away with his cursed black ship and bedraggled crew. And when he left my empire collapsed beneath me. I could only hope for a safe return to England.

There is much to say on the matter, though I admit that most of it confuses me. I know only a little of what occurred. I know that my fleet was ruined. I know that Jones was destroyed. I know that Swann and Tia Dalma were freed. And I know that Jack Sparrow tried to kill me.

I do not know, however, why he was merciful. Perhaps Anne would be so good as to tell me, for she had a hand in it.

Therefore, I shall speak on what I know and relate it to the fullest. Then I might hope for the memory to dull and terrible sting of loss to lessen.

It happened on the night of September the Fifteenth, when I sat in my office awaiting some black doom. From the harbor, I heard the sound of cannon fire and rushed to the window. A ship rode the waves, with black sails pulled high and taut against the wind. I recognized the vessel, of course, for who could mistake the Black Pearl?

My heart turned over in my breast and I paced the balcony like some wild beast, growling and cursing as my ships, my very own ships were assaulted. Behind the Pearl I saw several other pirate vessels, small, scrawny, but surprisingly nimble.

One by one my ships listed and not until I received word from Admiral Norrington did I comprehend the disaster. He found his way to my office, somehow, only to report the staggering defeat.

The great bulk of my fleet, he said, had been destroyed upon the sea by an armada of pirate ships. When I inquired as to the Flying Dutchman, Norrington could only shake his head and sigh.

It seems that we were tricked, cruelly tricked. While Elizabeth Swann and the witch, Tia Dalma caused a disruption with their arrival, that wily Will Turner found his way to the heart.

"Destroyed," Norrington said. And he leaned upon my desk in his soiled uniform, sweat beading his brow. "Along with Jones and his crew…and the ship."

I overturned the winged chair by the fireplace and threw all the items off the mantle. Norrington only slumped against the desk, his head bowed. The cannons thundered and caused the heavens to rumble as though God himself were descending from his throne.

"What are we to do?" I asked and my mind raced. "There must be some defense. Empty the Fort of soldiers, guard the wharves, stop Sparrow before he even reaches the shore."

Norrington looked through the long windows. The mast of the Emperor, a lordly ship, snapped and crashed into the waters.

"No, Beckett. It is over," he whispered and would say no more. I called for Mercer, but he did not come. Later, I learned that he met his end when the Pearl docked and her crew tore through the streets.

Panic bewildered me and I fought the urge to succumb to it. What to do?

Then I thought of Anne and our son and realized we must flee. Reaching safety we might regroup and recover, we might launch an attack of our own.

"My wife and child," I said to Norrington. "I must go to my wife and child."

Norrington looked at the harbor and then at me doubtfully. Pirates were pouring onto the streets, the sound musketry crackling in the air as the marines fired volley after volley to no avail.

"Sparrow is coming for you, you know," Norrington said. "You shall never make it out alive."

"We must try!"

"We?" Norrington looked at me, his eyes wide and a certain stunned expression on his face. "You assume, sir, that I shall be so good as to aid you again? I did it once, yes and now I curse the very day I laid the heart upon your desk. It has all been for naught and I have not found the life I once had. No sir, I have lingered on in much sorrow and guilt, the pawn of a foolish little man who would have been wise to stay in England."

He paused and took a great breath. "I was noble once sir, and believed in something greater than I, an attainable glory and green laurels. But all that has been swept from me and any chance of redeeming myself is gone. I can only hope, sir, for an honorable death."

Admiral Norrington then took out his sword and pressed the point against his breast. I understood what he meant to do, but made no move to stop him. He sighed, mumbled something that sounded like "Elizabeth, I am sorry" and made to fall upon his sword.

But the door to my office swung open and in flew a man with a red handkerchief about his brow.

"Sparrow!" I cried. His pistol was against my throat in a flash and he had me up against the wall.

"Beckett," he said with a sparkling smile. His rancid breath made me gag. "Thought you'd never see me again? Though I was dead, eh? Well, I was. But that is quite a story in itself and I won't waste it on the likes of you."

"James!" Elizabeth Swann was in the room next, followed by Will Turner and the witch and some stocky man I did not know.

Norrington dropped his sword. "Elizabeth," he all but sobbed. Yet then he regained his composure, tearing open his waistcoat to reveal his white shirt. "You had best shoot me now. Yes, go on. If there were any to take my life from me, it would be you."

Turner fingered his pistol but Sparrow shook his head, the beads in his hair clicking together. "None of that now. We've only come here to shoot one man." The barrel of his pistol was now shoved against my breast. "Ain't that right, mate?"

"Sparrow," I muttered. "Before you…before…"

"Think you might be able to bargain your way out of this?" he asked and there was a wild glint in his dark eyes, an unnatural light that caused my breathing to quicken. "It's a right fine mess you've created. What with the Dutchman and Jones sailing all about the Caribbean doing your bidding. And you've sunk a good deal of the Brethren's ships. Quite vexed they are, quite vexed. I am wondering though, what sort of excuse you might have?"

He paused for a moment and waited for me to speak and oh, for the life of me I could not. There was nothing to say, except that I had done the right thing by providing the Company and England with safe trade routes and a regulated sea. And of course, Sparrow would find no good in that and in the end, I resigned myself to a silent death.

"No one here will speak for you, eh?" Sparrow said and he seemed amused by it. "Will you at least tell me how it feels to watch your little empire go up in flames and cannonade and cutlass? Stings, I bet."

"My legacy will live on," I said. Sparrow laughed.

"See, I never quite understood what you lordly men meant by legacy. Suppose I never will." He cocked his pistol. I shut my eyes and thought of dear Anne and our son. Oh, poor young Cutler would be an orphan.

"Jack!" I was surprised to hear Elizabeth speak.

"Not now, lass," he said.

"Jack, I hear…Jack, I hear someone in the hall!"

"Soldiers." Turner said. I heard him cross to the door and then someone yelled.

"Cutler! Cutler, where are you?"

Anne.

I forced open my eyes. "Wait, please you mustn't…my wife…" I would not be shot before Anne and I would not have the horrid image haunt her for her final minutes upon this earth.

The door swung open and Turner leapt back, his sword at the ready. For a moment I thought he might run my wife through. Anne tripped through the door, her long white nightgown billowing behind her. She had naught but a blue cloak upon her shoulders and her hair was wild.

"Stand fast!" Turner ordered. He gripped her upper arm. Anne fought against him.

"Release me, sir!" she cried. "I am but a day out of childbed. You shan't be so rough with me!"

Turner seemed shocked. He loosened his hold on her arm just slightly and Anne twisted free, panting and coughing all at once. I thought she should drop dead right then and there. Her skin was milk-white and her eyes round. And yet she held herself upright, ever the gracious lady.

Norrington addressed her at once. "Anne, go away from this place. Do not linger here."

She ignored him, turning about and catching sight of me at once. Sparrow still had his pistol pressed to my throat.

"No!" she shrieked and launched herself at the pirate. "No!"

Both Turner and Elizabeth grasped my wife's shoulders. She fell to her knees. "No, you mustn't! Dear God, sir, please!"

"Who is she?" Sparrow jerked his head in Anne's direction.

"Beckett's wife," Elizabeth mumbled. The stocky man with grey hair shook his head.

"Bless me!" he said. "A fine looking filly for such a little rascal."

"Leave her be," I growled, desperately fighting against Sparrow's hold.

He offered me a wicked smile. "I'd stay still if I were you. There's little stopping me from blowing out your brains this minute."

"No!" Anne shrieked.

Norrington stepped forward. "Let this one go, Sparrow," he said in a calm voice. "She is an innocent and nothing more. Let this one go."

"As if we would spare either of them on your word," Turner spat.

"Hush." Tia Dalma was perched by the door, with a hand upon her hip. She stared at Sparrow. "Jack," she said and that was all.

Sparrow frowned. "Watch him, Will," he ordered. And soon Turner was standing before me, his sword pressed to my stomach. Sparrow paced before Anne.

"What's your name, lass?"

My wife raised her chin. "Lady Anne Beckett."

"Pretty name," he said with a small jiggle of his head. "I once knew an Anne, but she was nothing more than a whore. You don't look like a whore, lass."

Anne's eyes narrowed. "Not at all."

"Now what is a lovely little young lady like yourself doing here?" Sparrow asked. He leaned forward and peered into her eyes. Anne did not flinch.

"I have come to find my husband," she answered.

"This here man?" Sparrow pointed at me.

"Yes, my husband."

"And why did you come to find your husband?"

Anne did not reply at once. She studied Sparrow for a long minute, then tilted her head to the side. "I am guessing, sir, that you must be Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Well now look at that!" Sparrow waved his pistol about. "She got me name right. Never expected to hear such from a Beckett."

"If that is the case, Captain Sparrow," Anne continued and I thought I heard her voice tremble. "I can only assume that you mean to kill my husband this very night."

Sparrow nodded rather slowly. "Aye lass, that I do."

"Oh." Anne took a deep breath, a deep, shuddering breath. "Then I must beg you, Captain, to stay your hand for the very sake of pity. Just last night I birthed a stillborn babe and as I have been in the consumption for nearly a year, the good doctor says there is little time left for me."

Norrington made some indistinct noise and approached Anne. But Sparrow lifted his pistol in a flash.

"Stay where you are."

Norrington froze, though Elizabeth Swann who stood still stood over my wife, seemed to loosen her grasp a bit.

Anne swallowed. "I know then, Captain, that to watch my beloved husband pass before my very eyes…it…it should be the end of me. Will you not pity my plight, Captain Sparrow? I am mother to a little son, who now sleeps safely in his cradle, unaware that he is to become an orphan. Please, allow me one last comfort, one last joy before my end, let me see my husband alive."

Tears coursed down her cheeks. Sparrow frowned.

"Stand up, lass."

Anne sighed. "I cannot, Captain. I have not the strength."

Sparrow beckoned the stocky man. "Gibbs."

"Aye, Captain."

I watched in horror as Gibbs bent over my wife and pulled her up into his arms.

"Sparrow no!" And suddenly I did not care that Turner still had his sword against my stomach. I struggled fiercely.

"I won't do her any harm," Sparrow said quickly. "Calm yourself. I just want to have a little chat with her, eh?"

Before I could say anything else, Anne was carried from the room. Oh how I…

A cabin boy is at the door. He says dinner is to be served. I must write no more now.

Lord Cutler Beckett