Norrington walked the line of… sailors that Gibbs brought to him the next morning. To say that they didn't look like much would be a severe understatement.
He finally reached the end of the line where Gibbs was standing and leaned in to whisper, "Is this really the best you could do?"
"If I had a few weeks I could put together a more solid crew, even here in Tortuga. Honestly, I think we've got a few diamonds in the rough here!"
"Like who?" Norrington sent a glance back at them, where he saw the lone woman among the bunch glaring at Jack. "Besides the woman, I mean. I imagine she's actually up for the job if you chose her over a man."
Gibbs nodded. He was a superstitious sort and usually bought into antiquated ideas like a woman being aboard a ship bringing bad luck. "She is, most definitely. Though, truth be told, Anamaria sort of recruited herself after hearing about me asking around. She also has a less than friendly past with Jack…"
"I approve," Norrington smiled. Anyone with a distaste for Jack couldn't be that bad. "Which of the others are decent?"
"The short one there, Marty, for one," Gibbs pointed out. "He's stronger than he looks, and he's got a fighting spirit. Years of people looking down on you will do that to a man, I guess. Over there, the man with the parrot, that's Cotton. He ain't got no tongue, and the bird talks for him, but you'll be hard pressed to find a more experienced sailor in this miserable city."
"That one, that one, that one, and that one are all experienced, but perhaps shouldn't be trusted too much. The rest are here because they're willing and sort of able," Gibbs finished.
"Not as good as I'd hoped, but better than expected, I suppose," Norrington surmised.
He saw Jack pointing at his ship enthusiastically and correctly assumed that the pirate was up to no good. Naturally he marched over to him to find out exactly what.
"And whose ship is it that you're trying to give away, Sparrow?" Norrington asked as he caught the tail end of the conversation. Having a keen ear had served him well over the years.
Jack opened his mouth to reply, but all he let out was a strangled cry of pain as Anamaria stomped on his foot quite hard.
"How many times do you intend to cheat me, Sparrow?!" Anamaria growled.
"Now now, Miss," Norrington put on his man-in-uniform charm, even if he wasn't actually wearing the uniform. "I'm sure that he deserved that and much more, but he is still our guide on our little quest."
Anamaria studied him with obvious suspicion. "And what is this quest? Gibbs was dodgy with the details."
Norrington caught the other sailors leaning towards them to listen in out of the side of his vision. He can't say that he agreed with Gibbs' apparent choice to hide the specifics of the mission.
"A rescue mission, primarily," Norrington decided to be mostly honest. "The love of my life has been taken by a band of pirates and I aim to return her safely home."
There was some disappointed grumbling and some shuffling boots at that, so he added. "I have it on good authority that they have quite the nest egg hidden away. Naturally, any and all spoils will be split among the crew, minus myself and Sparrow."
Now there were a few interested murmurings among them, but Anamaria didn't look convinced.
"How big of a nest egg are we talking about here?" Anamaria interrogated.
"Well, they've been rather successful for the last- how long, Jack?" "Ten years." "Ten years or so. I expect they planned to retire at some point, as many long term pirates do provided they don't get caught first," Norrington let the bait dangle for a moment. "Of course, you can still walk away if you wish. I'm sure it won't take long to find more ambitious replacements."
Anamaria made a point of mulling it over, but Norrington could already see that spark of greed in her eye. She was hooked, and she wouldn't even try to get away before she got a tasty morsel out of this.
A typical criminal.
He supposed he shouldn't throw stones in glass houses, though. While not strictly illegal, his little stunt here was probably going to get him in trouble, especially if it doesn't go well.
"Alright, I'm in," Anamaria stated plainly. "You're still paying wages on top of that, so I suppose it won't be a waste of time if it goes nowhere."
The others were nodding their agreement. Norrington noted how effortlessly she had positioned herself as an authority among them. Well, a few very clearly didn't, but they were the exceptions rather than the rule.
He'd have to keep an eye on that. He was already prepared to deal with any mutinous actions, but having a nominal leader figure among them already wasn't a good sign.
"Let's get this over and done with, then. Perhaps, before the month is out, you'll all be wealthy beyond your imaginings," Norrington finished.
Or perhaps the navy's bureaucracy would be a bit quicker than usual and they'll all be in irons by then. Either way, Norrington would get what he wanted.
…
Aboard a ship at the bottom of the sea. The wood of its hull was ancient and the barnacles that adorned its surface were large and numerous. Its sails were in tatters and stained green from a millennium of algae growing then dying upon them.
"Say that again, Bill?" the voice melancholic and dreadful, spoken barely above a whisper.
"The kraken, captain," Bill grunted, barely cowed by the presence of the legendary figure. "It's dead. We've called for it three times now, with no sign of it."
"Impossible," the captain denied. "My pet is no ordinary beast, who could have slain her?"
"I don't know, captain," Bill admitted. "The only one carrying the black spot should be Rackham John, after you saved him from falling off the edge of the Cheribbean. He missed his quota, so the kraken should have gone to collect his debt."
"Rackham John? That cowardly weasel?" the captain snorted. "If he killed my pet, then I'll set the whole lot of you free! No, it had to be someone else. Did he hire someone, perhaps? Trick them?"
"Maybe he meant to deliver more souls to us, but they were more than the kraken could handle, sir," Bill suggested. No small part of him hoped that was the case. His captain was a rotten bastard and his pet was almost as bad.
It was one thing to offer a way out of a terrible fate in exchange for service, but it was another thing entirely to manufacture those terrible fates himself.
"Aye, that could be it," the captain hummed in thought. "Well, I can't let such a challenge go unanswered, can I? Prepare to set sail."
"Aye, sir," Bill turned and marched back out onto the sunken deck and relayed the orders.
There was a time when he would try his best to resist, but he'd sold himself, body and soul, to the devil. He'd have to work off his time, just like everyone else who was foolish enough to make the same deal.
Ten years down, ninety to go.