The sun was peeking over the horizon, bringing the dawn of a new day to the beauty of the Caribbean Sea. The men stood frozen like a macabre tableau on the deck of the Aphrodite, the captive man's face painted in a snarl as he eyed his captors. They awaited the arrival of the ship's captain ... a woman.

A woman he would sooner die than serve under! After all, had he known this Captain Frank, as he had sworn allegiance to when the Bounty went under, was a woman, he would have gone down with the ship!

Pierre stood at the open door of the Captain's cabin, his dark eyes watching as she buckled her sword around her slender waist.

"We're ready, Frankie," he said quietly.

Captain Frankie nodded to Pierre, her hand on her rapier as she preceded him out the door. Reaching the deck, she saw them.

Her men were gathered around a swarthy rogue with a knife slash down the side of his face. His eyes narrowed as he watched her approach, his fists clenched at his sides.

Frankie was silent as she returned his stare, her dark hair blowing away from her face, her eyes noting the weak chin and the stubble that didn't appear to be able to grow anymore, yet still pretending to be a beard.

"I'll not serve under a woman," he snapped, his spittle landing between her feet. His sharp, black eyes faced her defiantly, giving no quarter.

She stared coldly at him until he began to fidget. "You'll serve, or you'll be shark food," she finally bit out.

She heard rustling and murmuring among some of her less loyal crew and knew she could not afford to show any weakness. The majority of them were her father's men, and were rock solid behind her, but they picked up strays now and then who swore allegiance to keep their throats from being cut and then reneged or tried to create a mutiny. Such was the man in front of her.

"Ye wouldn't put me off," he sneered, his black eyes saying it all. Saying he didn't think a woman could do it.

"Watch me."

She nodded then, and Pierre moved forward, his cutlass prodding the man in the chest as he herded him towards the plank.

The pirate shuffled backwards, a leer on his face, his disbelief still clearly evident. At the end of the plank, he stopped to stare her down once again.

"Can't do it yourself, can ye, bitch?" he sneered. "Yer're just a common whore who ain't got the guts to send a man to his death."

Frankie's temper flared inside her, but she gave no reaction to his words on the outside. He was a common pirate, brazen and bold, but he would scream for mercy at the last minute ... just like they all did.

Her lip curled ... she strode forward. She would give him mercy, the same kind that had been shown her father ... and her gentle mother! She placed the tip of her rapier on his chest and pressed slowly.

The pirate's face began to show fear then, and he glanced down at the surging waters below him. He didn't see any sharks, but they were always there. Just waiting to sink their teeth into a man. A bead of perspiration broke out on his upper lip, but he refused to give quarter to a woman. Death was preferable.

"Ye'll have to do better than that," he sneered, feeling the tip of her rapier beginning to pierce his skin. Better to die at sword tip than be torn to pieces and still be half alive, watching those teeth coming at you again.

Suddenly, Frankie lowered her sword and planted a booted foot in the middle of his chest, kicking him backwards into the sea. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of impaling himself on her sword and affording himself even the tiniest of victories.

Even so, the pirate could not stop a gurgled scream from escaping his lips as he went down beneath the water and then struggled furiously to the top. She was looking down at him, the she-devil, laughing at him!

"If you can swim, you might make it to the island before they catch up with you," she laughed, pointing to the east.

He looked and saw a pair of dorsal fins about a hundred yards off, heading in his direction. With a muttered oath, he began swimming as if his life depended on it, which indeed it did.

Frankie turned and strode back onto the deck.

"Anyone else not want to crew the Aphrodite?" she asked mockingly. No one answered. She turned towards her cabin, Pierre falling in step with her.