For the next few days, Mr Ambrose kept me much too busy to think of a new plan. He used me as his personal monkey, sending me up jungle trees at regular intervals to check our course and see if we were being followed. But, after a few days, he seemed content that I had given up, and let up on me a little.

Big mistake.

I had thought long and hard about how to achieve my goal, and finally had come up with a plan that I knew could not fail. I broached the topic one morning while we sat in a circle, consuming our meagre breakfast.

‘Mr Ambrose?’

‘Yes, Mr Linton?’

‘I was thinking…’

‘How unfortunate.’

‘I was thinking that maybe now would be a good time to start teaching me how to shoot. Have you changed your mind?’

That was about as sensible a question as asking a warthog if it planned on becoming a fairy in its future career, and the answer came quickly, as expected.

‘No. Be silent.’

But that was only the first part of my plan. The real fun was just about to start. Ignoring Mr Ambrose, I conjured up a smile on my face and turned to the only other person in the camp.

‘Karim?’

Startled, the bodyguard glanced up at me, the look on his face supremely disdainful with a hint of surprise mixed in, like a vestal virgin propositioned by a common plebeian. (Except for the gigantic beard and sabre, of course.)

‘Yes?’

‘Will you teach me how to shoot?’

Karim raised his chin. ‘I walk on the path of righteousness! Nothing you can say could induce me to teach anything to a creature like you.’

‘Is that so? Well, in that case…’ Hopping to my feet, I skipped over to him, and before he could draw away, whispered something in his ear. Under his tan and beard, the Mohammedan went pale.

‘You wouldn’t! Not even a creature such as you…’

I gave him a charming smile. ‘Worse than an ifrit, remember? So, what do you say?’

For a moment, just a moment, a titanic struggle took place on the poor man’s face - then his shoulders sagged.

‘I shall teach you.’

‘What?’ Mr Ambrose’s voice was as sharp as a razor. ‘You most certainly shall not!’

The bodyguard half-turned towards Mr Ambrose and bowed, his expression mournful. ‘Pardon me, Sahib. But in this case, I will have to follow this creature’s orders over yours.’

For one instant, one brief moment of bliss, I actually saw the expression of surprise cross Mr Ambrose’s face. ‘What did you just say?’

‘It is so, Sahib. The intrigues of this evil creature are too powerful for me to resist. I pray you excuse me now, Sahib. I have to go contemplate my future sins.’

And he marched off into the jungle with a mournful expression on his face.

Slowly, Mr Ambrose turned to me, his eyes flashing. ‘What did you say to him?’

‘I threatened to take the rest of my clothes off if he didn’t comply,’ I told him, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Spiffing idea, don’t you think?’

From the non-expression on his face, I gathered he didn’t share my opinion in that regard.

‘Well…’ Sighing, I got to my feet. ‘I suppose I’d better go after him and start my lesson. Will you let me have a loaded gun, or will I have to threaten poor Karim further to get one out of him?’

He didn’t answer.

‘All right, if that’s how you want it…’

Shrugging, I started to move away - and jerked to a sudden stop when his hand shot out, closing around my wrist like an iron vice.

‘I will teach you.’

I tried to tug free - then the words he had just spoken arrived in my brain.

‘What did you just say?’

Slowly, he raised his gaze to mine, spearing me with two sharp, dark icicles. ‘I said I will teach you.’

I blinked at him, confused.

‘But a moment ago…’

‘That was then. Now is now.’

‘But Karim-’

‘Forget about Karim!’ Coming to his feet, he tightened his grip and towed me away into the jungle. ‘Your lesson is about to start. Come along, before you strip naked and start swinging from tree to tree with the monkeys!’

*~*~**~*~*

Bam!

‘No, no, no! You have to hold your arms like this, and stand like this.’

‘I’ll look bloody ridiculous!’

‘You will also be able to shoot straighter. And in any case, with your current attire, it will be extremely hard to look any more ridiculous than you already do.’

My eyes narrowed, but I didn’t turn around to give him a good kick. Instead, I kept my target in my sights - a slim tree, a dozen or so yards away.

‘Oh, so you think I look ridiculous, Sir, do you?’

‘Your attire is certainly not suitable for polite company.’

Stepping back without looking, I brushed up against him. ‘And what about not-so-polite company?’

There was a strangled noise from behind me. Smiling, I took aim at the tree.

Bang!

Splinters and wet bits of leaves erupted from a bush to its left.

‘Damn!’

‘You still don’t have the right stance, Mr Linton. Here, let me show you.’

I felt him step closer, and his arms came up around me from behind.

Oh dear God…! That feeling! Hard muscles pressing into me, pulling me where they wanted me to go…

‘Now concentrate. Hold your breath.’

His pectorals pressing against my back, flexing tantalisingly with every minute shift…

My breathing sped up.

‘I said hold your breath, not hyperventilate!’

‘Yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir!’

Gathering all my willpower, I clamped my mouth shut tightly.

‘Now, concentrate! Hold steady, and think only of your target. Think only of what you want!’

Oh, I know exactly what I want right now…

Bam!

‘Missed again!’ He sounded exceedingly displeased. ‘What is the matter with you, Mr Linton?’

*~*~**~*~*

Lessons with Mr Ambrose didn’t go well. Whenever he got near me to show me things, my hands seemed to get shaky and I started to miss targets a lot. It was probably my instinctive urge to turn around and shoot him in the backside, I assumed. Hopefully, it would lessen with time.

Oh really? You think that’s what it is? So, it has nothing to do with the fact that your heart starts racing every time he gets close to you? Nothing to do with the fact that every time he touches you, you crave not his death, but the little death?

Well, yes, there might be a tiny little bit of truth to that. Blast!

And the worst thing was that Mr Ambrose was infuriatingly, masculinely smug about it all. Every time I missed he gave me a cool, superior look that, while perfectly unemotional, somehow managed to purvey his belief of the utter and unchallengeable superiority of the male gender over the female one in general, and of him over me in particular.

Finally, I decided I’d had enough! If my silly little heart was going to start acting up every time I was in his vicinity, I would just have to train alone! That very night (making sure that this time, nobody followed me) I pinched a gun from our considerable supply and snuck off into the jungle. Ha! I couldn’t wait to see Mr Ambrose’s face when I suddenly turned out to be a master marksman!

On my regular nocturnal trips, I had to walk quite a way into the jungle to prevent the shots from being heard back in the camp. Luckily, the racket of the jungle drowned out any other sounds, and the thick trees kept anyone from seeing the light of my little lamp. Mr Ambrose tersely remarked on my tired eyes and slow pace during the day, but that was all anybody noticed.

Thus we moved on, farther and farther westwards. We were almost certain by now that the Brazilians had decided to turn around and leave us alone. I was getting a bit annoyed that Mr Ambrose was still making me shimmy up tropical trees on a regular basis, since it clearly wasn’t necessary anymore.

Or at least that’s what I thought until that day.

It was a routine climb like any other day. (Which goes to show how far Mr Ambrose had knocked me off course. For goodness’ sake, I thought of climbing up a tree in the middle of the jungle dressed only in my underwear as ‘normal’!) Almost bored, I let my eyes drift over the steaming landscape beneath me, wisps of hot fog drifting past me. I was just about to give it up and slide down the tree again when I saw something glint in the distance.

I froze.

‘And?’ Mr Ambrose’s voice called from below.

‘Wait just a second!’

Narrowing my eyes, I searched the area where I thought I had seen something reflect the dim half-light. There! Movement, on the bank of that little stream! There were shapes shifting around under the branches of the trees there. Something with two legs that wasn’t your friendly neighbourhood gorilla. I caught that glint again, and this time I was certain. Metal.

‘Mr Ambrose! Mr Ambrose, Sir!’

I had never climbed down a tree so fast in my life. By the time I reached the bottom, Mr Ambrose was awaiting me, revolver drawn, eyes sharp, scanning the jungle for any danger. As for Karim - well, he was probably out there in the jungle, being the danger (for everybody else).

‘Men!’ I panted, as soon as my feet touched the ground. ‘Armed! Coming this way!’

‘Who? Rebels or imperials?’

‘Didn’t see! No flags. Could be either.’

Mr Ambrose’s left little finger twitched. For him, that was as bad as a barrage of curses. ‘And you’re sure they were armed?’

‘Yes.’

‘They must have had an arsenal hidden somewhere in the jungle. One? Ha! The rebels probably have several.’ His jaw tightened. ‘I should have thought of that.’

‘There’s no sense in torturing yourself,’ I told him. ‘I’d be more than happy to do it for you.’

‘Mr Linton! Now is not the time for jokes!’

‘I know.’ Before he could pull away or shoot a freezing glare at me, I stood up on my tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. ‘Who says I was joking?’

He stiffened under the touch of my lips, so surprised that I had time to slip my arms around him and hold him close.

‘I don’t know who they are,’ I whispered, pressing my face into his chest. ‘I don’t know where they got their weapons from. All I know is that they’re after us again, and they don’t look happy. So…what do you think we should do now, Sir?’

Straightening, he snatched up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder.

‘Karim? Grab your things! We’re leaving!’

After that day, we resumed the same gruelling pace as before. Only - it didn’t feel quite as torturous as before. My legs didn’t tremble with every step, and didn’t have half as much to carry as they had a week or two ago. My strides became longer and steadier, and if I was not very much mistaken, Mr Ambrose now and again sent me looks of what bordered very nearly on reluctant approval.

Only…approval of what? The pace with which I moved, or the way in which? He was still marching behind me, guarding my rear, and he took his duty very seriously. I could feel his gaze on my derrière day in and day out. Only in the night did he take his eyes off me - which was just as well, because you can’t sneak off into the jungle for secret shooting practice with the eyes of your employer fastened on your behind.

It had occurred to me that, maybe, it wouldn’t be particularly safe to sneak out of the camp with soldiers roaming the jungle looking for us. But then, if I’d wanted a safe life, I probably shouldn’t have marched into a warzone to begin with. I needed to be able to defend myself. And I needed to be able to shoot Mr Ambrose’s top hat off his head in a fabulously impressive manner. So, as a precaution, I took along a blanket to wrap around the barrel and muffle the noise. It made aiming a little more difficult, but I could use an extra challenge. By now, I had gotten pretty handy with a gun. All right, I probably wouldn’t be able to compete with trained soldiers any time soon, but at least I could hit a standing target over a dozen paces away without the recoil knocking the gun out of my hand.

‘Die! Die, you ugly orange flower-cabbage-thingy!’

Bam!

‘Die, you odd-looking tropical plant of unknown origin!’

Bam! Bam!

The plant exploded as the bullet hit home. Grinning, I whirled the weapon on one finger (which I managed to do about fifty per cent of the time without dropping it) and blew the smoke away. It would have been great to have a scuffed leather gun belt at my hips into which I could casually slip the still-smoking gun, but a girl couldn’t have everything, right?

Well, maybe I could get one once I returned to London.

‘Well, well…Who do we have here?’

Or…maybe not.

I whirled around and raised my gun - just in time to have it slammed out of my hand by a burly soldier. I threw myself to the side, wanting to lunge for the gun on the ground, but the man grabbed me and held me in place. More soldiers stepped out of the shadows, followed by a tall figure in uniform. Colonel Silveira smiled at me, his white teeth shining in the dark. ‘We meet again Senhora.’