Alternatively

Broken Compass (i.)

"Unknown ship fast approaching from the north."

Annabeth scowled, flexing her hand on the hilt of her blade. "Of course, why not? Of all the targets in the damn ocean, he would choose this one."

"Are you sure it's him?" the first mate inquired, ducking as one of the brothers swung across to clamber up the ratlines. "Octavian's fleet patrols these waters too."

"Oh, I'm sure," she grumbled. "This is becoming quite the annoying routine."

She figured her crew would only have a few minutes until Jackson joined the party, giving them a small window to find the book. It wasn't ideal, but she had trained them under worse conditions. Plus, they were just as used to the "random" run ins with the other pirates.

"Captain!" Silena called from the main deck. "Lock on?"

Activity on all levels paused, eager eyes turned to her. Tightening her salt stiffened pony tail, Annabeth nodded. "Lock on."

The order resonated from deck to deck, a shudder yanking their ship to a halt as spikes drove into the royal vessel's hull. Connor led a horde of pirates screaming onto foreign wood, the blood chilling cries of elation alone enough to make messes of the sailors. They had disarmed the enemy cannons with wide range contraptions courtesy of the Stolls, and there was nary a match for blade to blade combat. Taking the ship would be a Sunday stroll.

Frank kept a sharp eye out for any sly seamen who attempted to sneak aboard and Annabeth stared at the ever encroaching outsiders. Unmarked sails billowed in an imaginary wind, the ripped flag sporting a trident hanging limply against the mast. Of course it was him, who else would it be? She could practically see the smug bastard steering carelessly with her hat perched on perpetually messy black hair. The thought made her blood boil.

"They've located the captain," Frank announced, gesturing to an extremely proud Clarisse sparring with a weathered general. "Are you heading over or should I?"

She sneered, still trained on the black boat. "Go. Look for the book and don't let them even see it, understood?"

He nodded, swiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "Yes, ma'am, not a peek."

She trailed after him as he vaulted onto the connected ship, spear whipped off his back and presence inspiring a fresh wave of cheers. While he joined Clarisse in her fight with the captain and first mate, the pillagers continued to ravage the decks and clearly enjoyed every second of the gory excavation. They were a band of sadistic ruffians, ruthlessness famed across the seven seas. She admired the mess they made of things as they ripped through the rigging and danced circles around the king's military. Sure, they had trouble coping with the screams and bloodshed, but within the first few months on the job, they grew enormously desensitized to it.

After shouting for the decks below to make way for excess findings, the blonde continued to stare down the third party as she made her way to the prow. There should have been no way they would match up so perfectly from the angle they were approaching the situation at, yet they were lined up without a fault. It was precise, even more so than Annabeth's work, which irked her. She knew of the rumors stating Jackson's connection to the sea, but as far as she was concerned, that's all they were: rumors. He neither denied nor agreed to the claims, but it sure boosted his ego a great deal.

As if his ego could use more boosting.

They were so close, she could make eye contact with whomever she desired, but she didn't glare at just anyone. Only him. And he was staring right back at her. The notorious Perseus Jackson held her harsh gaze from his post at the helm, mirroring her stance exactly.