The two pirates dragged the Vicomtess aboard the Black Pearl, a mighty ship, whose black sails gave off an eerie appearance. The gag that had been tied around Christine's mouth was removed, allowing her to breathe easier. A man in mock captain clothing walked up to her, bowing his head to kiss her hand, which she pulled away, glaring at him.

The man smiled wickedly, showing his crooked and yellowing teeth. "Pardon me, miss. Captain Hector Barbossa, at your service." The captain bowed.

"What do you want with me, Captain?" Christine demanded.

"You, my dear, are bait," he said. "I need to capture and kill a certain friend of yours."

"What friend?" she asked, her throat tightening in fear.

Barbossa's evil grin grew. "You may remember him as the Opera Ghost, the Angel of Music, my, that man's gone through a good many titles in his entire life!"

Christine gasped. "We- we're not friends."

"Maybe so, but he cares about you, don't he?" he asked. Reluctantly, Christine nodded.

"How do you know him?" she asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

"Come with me, little miss," he said. "I'll tell ye in my cabin."

"I don't trust you," she said.

"Do ye want to hear the story or not?"

With a sigh, Christine followed the captain. Barbossa sat at his desk, gesturing for her to sit at the chair across from him. Christine stayed where she was. With a sigh, Barbossa continued.

"His father and I were old rivals, you might say," Barbossa recalled. "Captain Destler was always after whatever I decided to plunder. He gave up pirating when he met Annalisa, and he paid for all of it by dying before his son was born."

"The Phantom," she muttered. "His father was a pirate?"

"Famous one, too," Barbossa said. "His son, a little boy named Erik, is just like him. Demanding, ill tempered, but a genius."

"Erik," she mused. "His name is Erik." She glared at Barbossa once more. "And where do I come in?"

"Easy," Barbossa said, his wicked grin returning. "I threaten to slit your pretty neck, and your little friend comes to rescue ye. I pretend to let ye go, and kill him. If you're lucky, I will let ye go. If not… you'll follow your little friend."

Christine tried desperately not to show her fear. "What did he ever do to you?"

"He's a Destler, first of all," Barbossa said. "He could become a captain as well as his father, so we'd best get rid of him. Second of all, we'd be doing the French government some good to kill the Opera Ghost, and third most, why do ye care?"

The question took Christine by surprise. "Because this entire plan involves me."

Barbossa nodded disbelievingly.

"Captain," Ragetti said, opening the door. "We've got company."

"It's been a long time, Hector," a female voice said. A woman with long, dirty blond hair, suntanned skin, deep brown eyes, wearing tan breeches, a swordsman's shirt, and a dark blue vest, with a sword in her belt, entered the room.

"Elizabeth Turner," Barbossa marveled. "What are ye doing here?"

"I heard you were kidnapping again and decided to stop by," Elizabeth said. She noticed Christine who was standing across from where Barbossa sat. "And a good thing I did, too. I didn't trust you when you kidnapped me years ago, and I'm not going to trust you with this girl either. What's your name?"

"Christine de Chagny," she said. Elizabeth.

"The Vicomte's wife?" she asked. Christine nodded.

"Why do you need her?" Elizabeth asked Barbossa. Barbossa relayed the same plan to Elizabeth, who nodded.

"Come with me, Mrs. de Chagny," Elizabeth said, gesturing to the door. Christine walked out, and Elizabeth soon was leading her to a rather nice cabin below decks.

"Listen," she said, closing the door of the cabin behind them. "I'm going to help you escape, but you've got to keep quiet about that."

"Of course," Christine said.

"Good. Now, I'm going to try and contact my own husband, Will. He's the captain of the Flying Dutchman, but he'll want to help. Yes, the Flying Dutchman. That's a story for another time, miss. I would contact my other, ah, friend, because he's proven helpful so far, but he and Hector hate each other's guts, so that would be less than helpful."

"My husband, Raoul," Christine said. "He's going to go crazy once he sees that I'm gone."

"I'll tell Will to send word to the Vicomte that you're safe," Elizabeth said. "And this Opera Ghost, whoever Hector was talking about, so none of them get involved."

"Thank you so much," she said.

"It's nothing," Elizabeth said. "I'm glad to help."

Raoul thought of every possible place the Phantom could be. His first bet was the Paris Opera House, but that had closed after the fire. Checking the opera house nonetheless, Raoul ran into a breathless Meg Giry.

"Meg?" he asked.

"Raoul? Is that you?" Meg sighed. "It's good to see a familiar face."

"You, too." Raoul paused. "You wouldn't happen to know where the Phantom is, would you?"

"Actually, I do." Raoul's face brightened. "Why do you ask?"

"Christine's in trouble." Raoul handed Meg the note, which she gasped reading.

"I've heard the name Barbossa before," Meg said. "Notorious pirate. Erik hates him."

"The Phantom?"

"Yes."

"Where is he?" Raoul asked.

"In his lair," Meg said. "I know a quicker and easier way down. Maman and I have been using it to get down there since the fire. After the mob left, Erik had very little left. A mask, wig, a bed, and his organ, a few lasso's, but not much else. So we've been helping." Meg walked over to a panel in a wall on the side of the lobby's staircase. A passage way opened up, and soon the two were falling fast, downward, then landed on something soft.

"We're underneath the stage," Meg said. "Erik used a trapdoor above us to escape the chandelier in Don Juan. Maman and I use the staircase to walk a ways toward the stage, then it slides onto the pillows under the trapdoor. Maman usually takes the stairs, but this is much faster."

Before he knew it, the gate to the Phantom's lair was coming into view.

"Don't let him see you," Meg whispered. "He still hates you for leaving with Christine." She pointed at an outcropping of stone beside the gate. "Hide back there. Once the gate rises, follow me."

Raoul nodded, dodging behind the large rock.

"Erik?" Meg called. "Are you there?"

"Yes, Meg." The cursed voice brought back bad memories. Yet it had a different, sadder tone to it. Losing Christine had seriously affected him.

The gate slowly began to rise. Meg shot a glance at Raoul, who joined her in entering the lair.

"You!" Erik seethed, spotting Raoul.

"I didn't come here to kill you, Destler," Raoul said, trying to maintain a calm disposition. "I need your help."

"Why should I help you?" he asked.

"Christine's in danger."