Never before had I moved so silently and yet so swiftly. Not even when fetching files for Mr Rikkard Ambrose in his office, where the floor was perfectly smooth and easy to walk on—unlike down here, in this dark and dirty sewer, where the floor was more slippery than my husband in the vicinity of creditors. And yet, here I was, running like an Olympic sprinter.

But then again, was it any surprise?

We were after him.

And we would catch him. We would end this once and for all.

"Shh!"

Abruptly, Mr Ambrose in front of me raised his hand, bringing our entire group to a halt.

"What is it?" I whispered. "Are we catching u—"

"Quiet! Listen!"

Despite my instincts, I closed my mouth and did as ordered, listening intently for any sound of footsteps or voices from the darkness. But there was nothing. All I could hear was the muffled sound of rain from above our heads and—

Abruptly, my thoughts cut off and my face paled.

The sound of rain.

Tropical, torrential rain. While we were in a sewer.

Crap.

As in...lots of crap. In lots of dirty water. Heading towards us fast.

"Mrs Ambrose?"

"Yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir?"

"Run!"

I only had a moment to hear the gurgling and rushing of water behind us before Mr Rikkard Ambrose grabbed Adaira and me each by one arm and dragged us forward. Karim followed hot on our heels, and as for Captain Carter...well.

"You...huff, huff...really want me to croak down here, don't you?" came the captain's panting from the very back.

"Shut up and move!"

As people were wont to do when my husband used that tone, the captain snapped his mouth shut and sped up. Of course, it might also have had something with the ginormous wave of sewage water fast approaching from behind.

"Crap, crap, crap! Whose bright idea was it to come down here again?"

"Less talk, more running, Mrs Ambrose!"

"Ah! Now I remember...huff, huff...whose it was. Thanks so much for reminding me, Mr It's-the-best-way-out-of-the-city!"

I wanted to complain more. I wanted to bash him over his stoney head for ever having this ridiculously stupid idea—and myself for going along with it! But I didn't get the chance because, just then, several lights appeared in the darkness ahead.

"Is that...?"

"Yes."

"What...huff, huff...do we do?"

"Run!"

"But...it's them! What if they try to attack—"

"Do you really think that is the most important thing for us to worry about right now?"

Behind us, the rushing of water became louder and louder. Oh heck.

We ran. We ran and ran, and the lights ahead quickly approached. I knew what they were, or rather, who. Still, I didn't slow down or hesitate for even a moment. Gritting my teeth, I redoubled my efforts. In a few moments, we had nearly caught up with them and, in the flickering illumination of the several lanterns, familiar figures came into view.

"Who...?!" One of the masked men whirled to face us, obviously having noticed our approach. "My Lord, be careful!"

Alerted by his minion, Dalgliesh whipped around and immediately fixed his eyes on us.

"You...!" He sneered. "How did you get free? No matter. You really think you can contend with me and my men? You're dreaming! You foolish—"

The man's villainous monologue was abruptly interrupted as Mr Ambrose and I dashed past him without even glancing his way.

"What the...?!"

His unfinished question was answered promptly by a flood of sewage water rushing around the corner of the tunnel, heading straight towards him.

"Fu—"

I never found out what exactly His Noble Lordship was about to say because, the very next moment, a herd of buffalos slammed into us from behind. Or at least that was what it felt like, for two seconds or so. Then the muddy water enveloped me, cutting off my air, my sight, my everything. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a last glimpse of Mr Ambrose before everything vanished into the darkness.

"Ugh!"

Pain lanced through my body as the water slammed me against the wall. I tried to swim up, tried to get even a tiny breath of air, but with the water wildly whirling around me, I couldn't tell which way was up and which was down. I couldn't get any air into my lungs. I couldn't—

Wham!

The pain of the collision was the last thing I felt before the world went dark around me.

***

As soon as I get out of here, I am going to murderize my brother!

That was the thought that kept repeating in Adaira's mind as she was flushed down the largest toilet pipe she had ever encountered.

I'm going to murderize him! Murderize him!

Something wet and slimy that Adaira didn't want to think about slammed against her.

Murderize him really bad!

Another object, harder and much heavier, rammed her in the gut. Her last bit of air was driven out of her, and the only thing that remained was desperation.

If I ever get out of here alive, that is.

Crap! How was she supposed to get air now? How was she supposed to breathe?

That question was answered a moment later when two strong arms suddenly grabbed her and wrapped around her waist. Adaira struggled to free herself—until she suddenly felt a very familiar pair of lips press against hers. Reflexively, she opened her mouth.

Air. Blessed, wonderful air. And, being held by those oh-so-familiar arms, Adaira knew exactly where it was coming from, and at what cost. She wanted to twist away, wanted to tell him to keep it all for himself, but Captain James Carter tightened his hold on her and would not let go.

That stupid idiot! That stupid, stupid, lovable idiot!

Captive in his arms, Adaira was unable to get free, no matter how desperately she struggled. Never before in her life had she wanted to get away so much from someone whom she never wanted to leave. The two contradictory desires were tearing at her heart. Down here in the dark, his embrace was all that was keeping her sane. And yet, thanks to that very embrace, with every second that ticked by, more and more of his life was flowing out of him into her.

Let go! Please, let go before it is too late! Because I don't think I have the strength to make you. Please! Let g—

Then he let go.

Only then, when the tight embrace of his arms vanished and a spear of cold fear suddenly lanced through her heart, did Adaira realise that she had never really wanted him to let go at all. Because once he did, it meant only one thing: he was out of air and about to die.

No! No, please!

She wanted to catch him, to hold him, to keep him safe and never let him go—but she couldn't. The strength in her limbs was failing, her head was quickly starting to buzz and become dizzy. They...they were both going to die down here, weren't they? They were both going to—

Splash!

Abruptly, the world exploded into blinding brightness. Air, blessed air, finally entered her tortured lungs and started to dispel the feeling of dizzine—

Wham!

Never mind. She was dizzy again.

Groaning, she tried to push herself up from whatever she had just slammed into, only for her hands to sink deep into mud. Mud half-covered with...grass? How was there grass in a sewer?

With all her might, she dragged a deep breath of air into her lungs. Blinking into the light, she tried her best to reorient herself. Grass...bushes...a river...a river! She wasn't in a sewer anymore! She had been washed up on the bank of a river.

Suddenly, Adaira heard a strangled sound behind her, as if someone was trying to cough up water.

Her heart leapt. She was on the bank of a river—and she was not alone!

"James!" Her head whipped towards the origin of the sound—yet, instead of the expected Captain Carter, she only saw the figure of one of the masked men flailing in the mud. Bloody hell! Where was James? Where was her brother, and Lilly, and—

There!

Her flitting eyes froze in mid-motion, fixed on several figures lying prone on the bank of the river. There lay her brother, with Lilly right next to him! A little farther downriver rose a large, hairy mountain covered in sludge that was probably Karim, and right next to him, half-hidden by the giant bodyguard's figure, was Captain James Carter. Adaira's heart surged. She staggered to her feet and stumbled forward—only to see another figure rise behind the captain.

Dalgliesh.

With a gun.

"No!"

Good news: her shout distracted Dalgliesh from the others.

Bad news: that meant he was now aiming the gun at her.

Adaira froze. The dark hole of the muzzle seemed like an endless abyss. Above it, Dalgliesh's wet, dirt-stained face twisted into a maniacal grin. His finger tightened around the trigger.

"Good bye, Miss Ambrose."

And he pulled the trigger.

Click! Click!

Adaira blinked. That... that was not the sound of her certain death. She stared at the gun which, as she only now noticed, was wet from top to bottom. Something that Dalgliesh also seemed to have realised. Turning around the gun in his hand, he shook it—causing black sludge to slide out of the barrel and drop onto his wet shoes.

With a curse, Dalgliesh cast the gun aside and reached into his pocket.

"What?" One corner of Adaira's mouth rose. "You think another gun will work better after your little bath?"

"No." Dalgliesh smiled. "But this will."

And he pulled out a dagger.

Bloody hell!

Or rather, bloody Adaira. At least she would be soon, judging by how sharp that knife looked. Crap! What on earth was she supposed to do now? She needed a weapon! She needed a—

Dalgliesh rushed towards her, dagger in hand. With a sneer on his face, he raised the weapon in his hand. In desperation, Adaira could only snatch up a rock from the ground and prepare to defend herself. Taking a stance that she hoped looked slightly more threatening than the drowned chicken she felt like, she readied herself for the sharp blade slashing towards her, and—

Wham!

Ab blurry black figure collided with Dalgliesh from behind, hurling him to the ground. Cursing and growling, the two men rolled around in the mud, and, for a moment, Adaira wasn't able to see who it was that had come to her rescue under all that dirt. Only when she caught a flash of two familiar, ice-cold eyes did she realise who it was.

Brother!

Adaira hesitated. Should she go help him? She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to run over and punch that bastard Dalgliesh in the face. However, she was well aware it might not do any good. She might have learned how to shoot, but she was less than confident about her chances in an unarmed brawl with a nearly six-foot-tall man.

Adaira flinched as a fist slammed into her brother's face. With a snarl, Dalgliesh tried to close his hands around Rick's throat, only to get an elbow to the gut.

But what if I can make the difference between death and victory? What if—

Out of the corner of her eye, Adaira caught a flash of movement. Whirling around, she saw one of the masked men back up on his feet and racing straight towards the unconscious forms of Karim, Lilly, and Captain Carter.

Oh, hell no!

Before she could even consider it, Adaira broke into a run and raced after him. She might not have a chance in a wrestling match against a grown man, but her chances were a heck of a lot better than those of three unconscious people.

Suddenly, she saw something glint on the ground in front of her. Stopping in mid-step, Adaira's eyes zeroed in on the dagger Dalgliesh must have dropped when her brother rammed into him.

No chances? Ha! We'll see about that!

Without the slightest hesitation, she snatched the dagger off the ground and dashed after the masked man. The man who, in that very moment, had arrived beside Captain Carter's unconscious form. Snatching a rock up from the ground, he raised it high into the air and—

"Aaaaagh!"

—dropped the rock abruptly as a dagger dug into his thigh.

With gritted teeth, Adaira twisted the blade in the wound, eliciting another cry of pain. The leg buckled beneath him, and Adaira seized the chance immediately. Ripping the knife out of her enemy's leg, she jumped the falling man and stabbed straight at his neck!

"Rrrraah!" With a pain-filled roar, the man brought up both arms to block the blade. The dagger bit deep into his flesh, but it was stopped by the bones of one arm, unable to go further. Lashing out with the uninjured one, he sent his fist straight towards Adaira's face. She only had one moment to see the rapidly expanding knuckles, before—

Wham!

Stars exploded in front of her eyes. Her entire body was sent flying back and slammed into the mud. Pain lanced through her like a red-hot spear. Gritting her teeth, Adaira tried to shake off the dizziness that made her head swirl. She tightened her grip on the dagger, and...

The dagger?

The dagger! Where had the dagger gone?

Desperately, Adaira looked around. She had to find it! Without a weapon, she was finished! Without a weapon, against a grown man trained in fighting, she—

There!

A few feet away from her, something glinted in the mud. She dived towards it, in a desperate scramble to get there before her foe did. But the fast-approaching footsteps she expected to chase after her didn't come. Without any problem, she snatched up the dagger and whirled towards the masked man, blade raised—only to freeze in mid-motion.

There, a few feet away from her, was her enemy. He was crouching on the ground, his eyes firmly fixed on her, and his arm wrapped around the neck of Captain Carter's unconscious form, ready to twist.

"Stop!" he ordered. "Drop the weapon, or he dies!"

-------------------------------------

My dear Readers,

How did you enjoy Lord Dalgliesh quite literally being flushed down the toilet? ;)

Oh, and keep your fingers crossed for Captain Carter. Adaira might hold back if his life is threatened, but I wouldn't be so sure about certain others...

Yours Truly

Sir Rob