Silence Is Golden (Storm and Silence 3)

Karim and I exchanged a look. For the first time in days, he didn’t grimace at having to glance at me.

‘Forward,’ we said in unison.

‘Adequate.’ Clapping his hands, Mr Ambrose rose to his feet. ‘Then let’s go. We have no time to waste. I doubt that the Brazilians are more than a few hours behind us.’

‘Aren’t you going to tell us who these oh-so-dangerous people are to whom you intend to take us?’ I demanded.

‘No. Come!’

Muttering a curse, I snatched up my knapsack and marched after him. He was already heading off into the jungle.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that we had switched directions. Where before we had been heading west, we were now going northeast. And we weren’t following my directions from the manuscript, either. Instead, Mr Ambrose was leading now, leaving Karim to protect the back and to perfect the art of walking with his eyes closed. My dear employer seemed to know where he was going. The map he used was almost completely blank, but there seemed to be at least one dot on it that was clear and fixed, and whatever it was, we were heading towards it. Towards one deadly danger, to escape from another.

Oh, the bliss of working for Rikkard Ambrose!

‘Sir?’

Mr Ambrose didn’t turn around.

‘Sir? I have a question.’

‘Then ask, Mr Linton.’

Still he didn’t turn.

‘Tell me, Sir…if we would have voted against the plan, what would you have done?’

He didn’t even hesitate. ‘I would have ignored your opinions and ordered you to do what I want.’

I had suspected something of the sort. ‘Um…Sir? Then why let us vote?’

‘To build a sense of community and cooperation among my staff members. It generally is an efficient way of manipulating people into doing what I want while letting them think they do it of their own volition.’

‘Ah. Of course. Well done, Sir. I feel very cooperative.’

We continued to march through the jungle at a pace a Roman regiment could have been proud of. Again and again, Mr Ambrose had Karim make forays to the right and left, or made me climb up trees to look as far as the thick roof of plants would allow. He never told me what exactly I was supposed to be looking for, saying only, ‘You’ll know it when you see it.’

How wonderfully helpful.

Only, he turned out to be right.

The sun was just setting, and I had climbed up one last tree to throw a last look around before turning in when, suddenly, I saw something rising from among the trees that I hadn’t seen in a very, very long time.

‘Mr Ambrose!’

‘Yes, Mr Linton? What is it?’

‘Smoke! There’s smoke ahead, rising from between the trees!’

‘I knew it! I knew he would be here.’

‘He? Who, Sir?’

‘Never mind that now, Mr Linton! What direction is the smoke coming from?’

Quickly, I pulled the compass from my pouch. ‘Northeast! We’re marching straight towards it!’

‘Get down here now! We’re leaving.’