Silence Is Golden (Storm and Silence 3)

‘No.’ His fingers found their way from my cheek to my lips, stroking their soft curves with sensual precision. ‘To males.’

Oh God…! The way he said that…I felt ready to melt into the ground.

Luckily, the monkey didn’t seem to appreciate being neglected, and saved me from such an embarrassing display.

‘Oook? Ook oook!’

He was holding up his finger again. I looked at the little fellow’s big, hopeful eyes and sighed. Normally, I had no problems at all with rejecting interested males of any kind. But with this one chap, I was having increasing difficulties saying ‘no’.

Involuntarily, my eyes were drawn over to Mr Ambrose. Well…actually not just with this one.

Blast!

‘Sorry,’ I told the little fellow. ‘But it’s really for the best, you know? Trust me, we wouldn’t exactly be suited for each other. Find some nice monkey lady with a big, comfy tree of her own. I’m sure she’ll let you clean her ears as much as you want.’

The little fellow drew himself up. ‘Oook! Oook ook ooog oook.’

I couldn’t speak monkey, but I had heard this one so often in English, I knew instinctively what it meant: I know you love me deep inside! You’re just too shy to admit it.

With that, the little fellow turned and scampered off, probably to gather a few flowers and bananas.

I closed my eyes. ‘God! Why do men have to be the same everywhere?’

*~*~**~*~*

‘So, let’s examine our situation.’

We were all gathered in our little camp, around a scrap of paper that was supposedly a map of the Amazonian jungle. It bore an astonishing resemblance to a white sheet.

‘Not many people have been this way yet, have they?’ I enquired, staring at the map.

‘No.’

‘Is that good or bad?’

‘Both, Mr Linton. It means our options are very limited. We cannot deviate too much from the manuscript’s instructions, or we will certainly lose our way. But it also means that the further we go, the more difficulties the Brazilians will have with following us. Half the country they claim as their own is really unexplored jungle, owned only by the jaguars and natives that roam this labyrinth of trees.’

‘And what does that mean for us?’

‘It means that we have lots of space, either to lose our enemies in, or to get

lost ourselves. We must use it wisely. And we must, by any means possible, manage to throw the Brazilians off the scent. I think it is clear by now that they won’t give up on their own. We can’t allow them to capture one of us again. Next time we might not be so lucky, and I will not allow them to lay their hands on my treasure!’

Grim nods from all around. When nobody spoke again, I asked: ‘So, what do we do?’

Mr Ambrose took a deep breath. ‘There may be a way. A way to throw the Brazilians off our scent for a time, maybe even for good. But it’s dangerous. Very dangerous.’

His cool gaze swept our little gathering.

‘We’ll be going deep into potential enemy territory, giving ourselves into the power of people we don’t know and cannot trust. But, if we can persuade them to help us, the soldiers will have no hope of finding us. If - and that is a big if!’

‘What if they decide not to help us? What do we do then?’ I asked.

Mr Ambrose met my gaze, levelly. ‘Dead people don’t do anything.’

‘Oh.’

‘I told you it would be dangerous. That’s why I can’t make this decision on my own. Your lives are your own. So…what will we do now? Will we forget about the treasure and turn tail? Or will we gather our courage and move forward?’