Chapter Eight

Ambition

"Leave him with me; don't bother to guard the door either – he isn't going anywhere." Beckett's voice, icy and smooth informed the guards as they turned and left, the admiral turning his attentions to the beaten man, lying in Jack's very cell, in the situation Captain Sparrow had faced only moments before.

"Throwing away your life for the man you hate?" He began, an incredulous expression on his face, "You're starting to make no sense whatsoever, Norrington. I saw you let him win – don't think you fooled me. It begs the question why; do you think that pirate will come back to help you? Do you believe as a good man, this was a noble act? It was foolish." The man said, pacing the length of the cell, every now and again looking at James, stripped of his fine clothes, dirty though they were. Now he just looked like any other criminal. "And here I was thinking you had ambition – what ambition is this?"

The question went unanswered, but Beckett allowed the silence to spiral horribly, before laughing quietly, "There are disguised guards posted all over the port; if he comes back to try and free you he will be shot. I want him dead; and if he's the man you believe him to be he will die – otherwise he shall be hung drawn and quartered the next time we set eyes on him, if he chooses to run. So your act was futile – do you still wish to pardon yourself? It can be…arranged."

"You're still under my command, though you would be hanged tomorrow morning, what would you be willing to do to save your own life?"

James glared at Cutler through dark, half-lidded eyes, a beaten scowl on his lips and his hands bound. Yes, ambition. What exactly was he doing with his life now? True he was actually doing something with his life, but what? To what point and purpose – had his noble act all been in vain? But surely… Jack had more craftiness than that. The pirate Captain knew every trick in the bloody book, although it wasn't written down on paper, per se, there were schemes. Norrington had picked up a couple on Turtle Island, but certainly wasn't a master of them.

"Beckett…" he growled, voice dripping with loathing and pure malevolence, and a desire to strangle the man, grip his porky neck into a hold that would choke him to the painful death he deserved for his wrongdoing. He killed pirates, with the sole reason that he hated them. Despised them. Mistreated and tortured them…

"Sir I would do anything but kill a righteous man," was his quiet reply. James buried his face in his hands, just wondering what the in the darkest fiery depths of oh God forsaken hell Lord Beckett could possibly make him do to win back the ownership of his life. His life.

X x X x X

Tears stained her cheeks, but more still trickled down them, not fearing for him any longer but shaking her head with anxious sobs at what he had done – forgotten one man's life. One man. A good, one man. James Norrington – he was a respectable friend of hers.

Elizabeth fell onto Will's torso, ignoring his soothing and calming noises, the hand on her hair gently stroking making no difference.

Her indomitable face stared at Jack.

"You have to take us back,"

Jack rolled his eyes, as he rowed them back to the ship "You're both as clever as each other aren't you? Real bright little buttons. I don't have to do anything."

Will fell silent, but glared at the man. Jack was being uncharacteristically cold. He wanted to trust him, wanted to believe that he was going back to save James, he knew his father would have trusted the man to the end, but why would he do anything of the sort? Jack hated the man with a passion – what he had done on the ship was proof enough, then again…that hadn't been /him/ either. Not the Jack he knew. What had happened to him?

Back on the Pearl, Jack gave the orders to cast off, head straight for Tortuga. Ignoring all protests from both Will and Elizabeth, they refused to help, and even tried to abandon ship. The Captain wasn't having any of it and had them put in the hold, locked. Only an hour later, when Gibbs went to ask what was going on, did he find that Jack's quarters were empty, and a note on the table.

"Abandon all those who fall behind, either accidentally or purposely."

X x X x X

Dripping wet from the ocean, Jack Sparrow smiled to himself. He guessed that the city and Gaol would be crawling with men out to kill him, but James wouldn't be held there. If he were right, the ex-Commodore would be escorted to Beckett's temporary quarters, which were in the building just at the top of this cliff. He only had until morning to reach the top, and so knife in mouth, he began to climb.

X x X x X

"Will! Miss Swann!" Gibbs raced down the deck, barging into the cells where the two were being held. "Look at this," he thrust the note through the bars, Will taking it into his rough hands. His eyes scanned the letter and as he raised his head to look back at Gibbs, he looked lost. Elizabeth snatched it from her lover, and Gibbs merely shrugged.

"Can't say I be knowin' where he's got off to this time, young Turner…"

X x X x X

"I was hoping for a little entertainment." Beckett said, unlocking the cell and leading James up to his quarters, "impress me and I'll let you live."

James looked Beckett up and down as he stood in front of the door, knowing full well there were guards stationed outside, either side of the oak polished exit.

"Entertainment? I'm not sure I fully understand your meaning, Sir," he cleared his throat, a hand on the handle of his sword. "You could either mean something I'm not particularly entitled to think about, or…" Norrington's sword was taken from him as quickly as it came from its scabbard.

"I'd like to think I want the first, James…" The ex-Commodore took a couple of hesitant steps backwards, but his back slammed against the wall, and Beckett balanced upon his tiptoes to at least have reasonably level eye contact. The other was breathing heavily, nervous and looking from side to side.

"Cutler, I must object…"

"You said anything,"

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Author's Notes: Sorry this fic isn't up to my usual standards; the punctuation is a little shabby and so is the spelling and grammar. Ah well. Are you enjoying this? I might update this chapter at a later date, but don't expect anything. If you get the next chapter then I won't bother updating this chapter (: It all makes sense… kind.of. –runs away screaming-