Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Exodus
CUTLER BECKETT SAT AT HIS EBONY DESK in his private office, regarding
Jack Sparrow as though he’d crawled out from beneath a log in a
swamp. His voice was flat, his eyes cold. “Stop right there, Captain
Sparrow.”
“But, Mr. Beckett—”
Beckett raised a forefinger. “I said, stop. Not another word,
Sparrow. Let me see if I have the essence of this so-called ‘report’ of
yours straight.” He began ticking off items on his fingers as he spoke.
“Item one, you were unable to verify the exact location of Kerma.
The bearings you have provided are actually the location of a large
bank of fog? Is that correct?” Beckett didn’t pause for a response, but
forged ahead. “Item two, you had, in your possession, at least two
inhabitants of Kerma, but both of them are now gone, because
someone cast a magical spell on you and your crew, and you fell
asleep on the deck of your ship, only to awaken with your passengers
gone and a longboat missing. You currently have no idea as to their
whereabouts. Correct?”
Jack Sparrow didn’t meet his eyes, only shifted his weight
uneasily, turning his tricorne in his fingers, “Uh, Mr. Beckett, I—”
“I wasn’t finished, Captain,” Beckett snapped.
“Sorry, sir,” Sparrow said quietly, and fell silent.
“Item three, you took on a cargo of muscovado sugar and
molasses in Antigua, and, instead of delivering said cargo to its
assigned destination in Liverpool, you have brought approximately
half that cargo back here to Calabar. Your explanation for losing half
your cargo is that it was damaged during an attack by pirates in the
Bahamas, correct?”
By now Sparrow had learned his lesson. He didn’t try to speak,