It took me a moment or two to push the gag out of my mouth. Unlike with the ropes that bound our hands, our captors hadn't put much work into it. Finally, I managed to spit the thing out.

"So," I asked, eyes fixed on the sparks halfway down the fuse, far too close for my liking. "Any ideas?"

"Naturally."

My head whipped around to stare at Mr Rikkard Ambrose. "What, really?"

His icy eyes stared at the approaching sparks even harder than mine. "Do you really think I would have let Dalgliesh tie us up without resistance if I didn't have a way to escape? I know his character. No matter the method, he was always going to find a way to let us die slowly, either in fear, pain, or both. Either way, it would provide enough time for us to escape."

"Then what the heck are you waiting for?" I demanded. "Get on with it!"

"I already am."

I twisted my head a little farther towards him—only to see him breathe out deeply, making the ropes around him slacken ever so slightly.

"This isn't the first time I've been tied up," he told me. "In fact, it isn't even the second or third."

"Oh? Like being tied up, do you? Sounds interesting." I batted my eyelashes, and a smile crept onto my face. It was only partially forced, to cover up my anxiety. "We'll have to experiment with that when we're back in England."

Once you've put that bloody fuse out! I didn't say those words out loud. But I was pretty sure they were implied.

"Don't get your hopes up, Mrs Ambrose."

"Pfft!" There was a wet sound as Adaira spat her gag out. "Less flirting, more escaping!" she demanded.

"Mmmm!" Said Captain Carter, who, despite his gag, managed to convey his fervent agreement. "Mmhm mmmh!"

"Be quiet, the both of you!" Mr Ambrose ordered. "I'm working!"

And he was. It wasn't obvious at first glance, but, slowly yet surely, he was sliding out of the ropes wrapped around his torso. Only...it wasn't nearly fast enough! Anxiously, my eyes flicked between Mr Rikkard Ambrose and the fast-approaching sparks.

"Hurry up! Chop chop! The early bird gets the worm! Knowledge is power is time is money!"

"Are you chiding me of all people for wasting time, Mrs Ambrose?"

"If I'm going to blow up soon, I might at least spend my last few minutes of life doing something fun."

"Fun is overrated."

Thud!

The soft sound made me twist my head towards my husband once again—just in time to see the last piece of rope wrapped around his torso drop. Immediately, he rose to his feet.

"Quick! Put out the fuse!"

"Can't. Not yet." He turned, and only then did I spot the rope attached to the bonds around his wrists, still tying him firmly to the stone column. I opened my mouth to ask how he was going to get free of those when he answered my unspoken question by turning his back fully towards me and thrusting his wrist bonds into my face.

"Eat!"

Under normal circumstances, I would have answered with something along the lines of "As long as you do the same to me tonight!" or some similarly ingenious comeback. The fast-approaching sparks travelling along the fuse, however, were anything but "normal circumstances".

So I dug in.

Rope wasn't exactly the tastiest thing I had ever tried. Nevertheless, I had never chewed on anything with so much gusto. Chocolate? What was Chocolate? Give me rope! Yum!

"Faster, Mrs Ambrose!"

"Nnng! Mmgrmph!" I said past a mouthful of hemp.

"I will take that to mean 'Yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir.'"

That was not exactly what I had been trying to say. I decided that, once we had returned to England, I would have to work on his translation skills.

That was when, out of the corner of my eye, I once more saw sparks heading straight towards us, already far too close.

Correction: if we return to England.

Instantly, I redoubled my efforts. Chewing like a starving lioness, I worked myself through the rope. Yet my progress was torturously slow. Too bloody slow! It wasn't going to work! I wasn't fast enough! I—

"All right," a familiar cold voice entered my ears. I had never heard a more beautiful sound. "That's enough."

"Huh? What do you mea—"

My voice abruptly cut off when I saw his muscles tense.

"Hnng!"

With a low grunt, he yanked on the ropes, his biceps bulging. The already damaged hemp began to twist and stretch under the force of his arms—but they still held. Redoubling his efforts, he threw his entire body against his fetters. There was a tearing sound as his clothes ripped, his broad shoulders straining in a way that made want to reach out and—

No! Bad Lilly, bad! Not the right time!

I glanced over at the rapidly shortening fuse.

But...wasn't the moment before we were about to die exactly the right time for what I had in mind?

Rrrrripp!

Before I could find an answer to that question, a sound entered my ears. An amazing, incredible, wonderful sound. In front of my widening eyes, the torn remnants of a rope were flung away and disappeared into the darkness. Mr Ambrose didn't waste a single second. The instant he was free, he rushed forward, vaulted over one of the crates filled with bloody gunpowder and headed straight towards the burning fuse.

By now, the sparks were only about five yards away from the first crate covered in danger warnings, and were rapidly racing towards their goal. I licked my dry lips, praying silently, hoping against hope. Mr Ambrose was fast, but faster than fire?

My fists clenched, eyes fixed on my husband. Beside me, I could feel Adaira do the same.

Run! Run faster!

Five yards till the sparks reached their target. Five yards till death.

Four. Mr Ambrose still hadn't caught up yet.

Three. Closer. Closer, but not nearly close enough.

Two.

One.

I closed my eyes, sending a silent prayer for Berty heavenwards and waiting for the explosion.

Wham!

And waiting. And waiting.

Slowly, I opened my eyes again—only to see my husband standing over the fuse, one of his boots slammed down on the place where the sparks had been just a moment ago.

"That," Adaira said, her voice trembling ever so slightly, "was the most horrifying experience of my entire life."

"Really?" I felt a grin spread across my face. We were safe. Safe! "Then you ought to spend a few years as your brother's secretary. Trust me, your life will get much more interesting."

"I'll pass, thank you. I value my life."

"Is that so?" Mr Rikkard Ambrose's cool voice made me look over at him again. He was just bending down to rip the fuse in two, eliminating the last possibility of an explosion. "Then why exactly did you travel half around the world on a foolhardy errand into the middle of a war zone?"

"No comment. Now come and get those bloody ropes off me!"

In response, Mr Ambrose walked past her and started working on my ropes.

"Oy! Didn't you hear me?"

"I did. I also have priorities."

"You...! I'm your darling little sister!"

"I know. You're also grounded until further notice."

My ropes fell away and I jumped to my feet, planting a kiss on his cheek. Before I had the chance to throw my arms around his neck and get more serious, though, he strode towards the others.

"Finally!" Adaira muttered.

"Yes," my dear husband agreed—then kneeled down and started to undo Karim's bonds.

"Oy!"

"Like I said—priorities. Also, you're still grounded."

"I'm so going to tell mother about this!"

"Feel free. I look forward to how you intend to explain ending up in a sewer under an Indian city full of armed, bloodthirsty rebels."

"You...you are just getting back at me for running away, aren't you?"

"Certainly not. I would never do something so petty and small minded."

"Really?"

"And even if I did, I would never admit it."

"You...!"

Walking over to her side, I patted her on the shoulder commiseratingly. "Just give up. You're not ever going to win this."

She sent a glare at her brother's back. "That remains to be seen. Can you untie me?"

"Apologies. I suddenly seem to have forgotten how to undo knots."

"Lilly!"

"Also, I still want my salary for this month from your dear brother."

I totally didn't notice the glare she sent at me for that. Whistling innocently, I watched as Mr Ambrose continued to work on Karim's bonds.

Finally, my dear husband undid the last knot that held his bodyguard in place. For some reason, Dalgliesh's goons had been particularly thorough when tying him up, using at least twice as much rope as for anyone else. At long last, Karim was free—and promptly slumped forward, landing face-first on the floor.

Adaira winced. "Seems like they really did a number on him."

"Yes, seems like it." I looked down regretfully at the big man—then looked up to smile at everyone. "So...who is going to carry him?"

Adaira and the captain immediately tried to take a step back—only to find that they were both still tied up. How unlucky. No escape for my pack mules. Mwhahaha!

At least that was what I thought until Mr Ambrose grabbed one of our water flasks from where it had fallen on the floor, unscrewed the top, and emptied it over Karim's head.

"Pfft! Gagh! Agh!"

Karim jerked into a sitting position and shook himself like a wet dog. Pulling a hidden dagger from somewhere inside his clothes, he whirled around.

"Who dares? Who—"

Then he came face-to-face with Mr Rikard Ambrose with the flask in his hand.

"Oh."

"Indeed."

"Ehem. Thank you for waking me up, Sahib."

"Hm." Putting away the flask, Mr Ambrose proceeded towards Adaira and started working on her ropes.

"Finally!" she grumbled. "Are you sure you are my brother?"

"According to my traumatic childhood memories, yes. Now hold still unless you want to stay tied to this pillar."

Ah, the love between siblings. It was always such a heartwarming thing to see.

The last rope was cut and fell away. Adaira jumped to her feet and clenched her fists. "Ah! That bastard! I'm going to beat him to death!"

"Errr...he just freed you, remember?" I felt obliged to speak up for my husband.

"What? Oh, not him! I mean Dalgliesh!"

"Ah. Don't mind me, then."

She nodded and turned towards her brother. "Rick?" With a determined expression on her face, she took a step in his direction. "We're not just going to let that son of a bachelor get away, are we?"

The answer came swift, harsh and in an ice-cold tone of voice. "No. We most certainly are not." Cracking his knuckles, Mr Rikkard Ambrose marched over to our knapsacks, which had been thrown into a dirty corner by Dalgliesh. There was a tearing sound and, a moment later, my husband pulled out several guns and knives that had been stashed in secret pockets. Shouldering his own baggage, Mr Ambrose threw me a revolver. "Arm yourselves. We're leaving."

Then he turned around and stalked towards the tunnel through which Dalgliesh had left.

"Hmmm! Nnhmm!"

"Errr...Rick? Didn't you forget something?"

Mr Ambrose stopped and looked back, letting his gaze sweep over the room, myself, Adaira, Karim, and the still tied-up Captain Carter.

"Hm? No. I don't think so."

Adaira's eyebrow twitched. "Rick!"

With a small sigh of regret, Mr Ambrose turned fully around. "And here I was hoping you would forget."

"You son of a...!" Adaira held out a hand. "Knife! Now!"

"Mmm!" Captain Carter agreed fervently. "Hnnmm!"

Reaching for one of the weapons he had collected earlier, Mr Ambrose offered it to her, handle first. Immediately, Adaira snatched the thing, rushed over to her intended and started cutting his bonds. The whole while, Mr Ambrose was watching with an equally icy and regretful look in his eyes.

A broad smile on my face, I sidled up to him and slid an arm around his waist. "Ah, young love!" I sighed like an old grandmother ready to see her grandbabies. "Remember when we were young and in love, just like them?"

Just then, the ropes fell away and Adaira cupped the captain's cheek, staring into his eyes with an utterly besotted expression.

"We, Mrs Ambrose, were never this nauseating."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"And I am still young."

With my free hand, I patted his shoulder. "Of course, dear, of course."

"Mrs Ambrose?"

"Yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir?"

He gave me a stare that sent a shiver down my spine. The good kind. "When we get home, we are going to have a long discussion. In private."

I grinned. "I look forward to it, Sir."

It seemed as if Mr Ambrose were going to respond—when, suddenly, he noticed Adaira was about to switch from caressing the captain's face with her hand to doing the same with her lips.

"All right, that's enough!" Marching forward, Mr Ambrose grabbed his little sister by the scruff of the neck and dragged her back.

"Oy!"

"Didn't you say you wanted to get back at Dalgliesh?"

"I, um...yes!"

"Then what are you wasting time for? Do you want to let him get away?"

Adaira hesitated for a moment—then straightened and nodded. "You're right. We should go."

From behind her back, I gave Mr Ambrose a thumbs up. I had to admit, I was really impressed with his rhetorical skills. Knowing him, he was going to try something like that to talk her out of the wedding before long.

Not right now, though. Right now, he had other things on his mind. And he wasn't the only one.

Together, we turned towards the shadowy archway through which Dalgliesh had disappeared some time ago.

"Ready?" came my husband's voice from beside me. I glanced over at him. Normally, he already sounded chilly. But now? His voice was as cold as the ice in the morgue waiting for Dalgliesh's corpse.

Dalgliesh...it's time for revenge. You're going to regret ever touching our family.

I nodded. "Ready."

"Then let's go."

And, cocking his revolver, Mr Ambrose strode forward into the darkness, with the rest of us hot on his heels. 

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

My dear Readers,

The time for vengeance is approaching! Hands up, who is ready to watch Dalgliesh get a beatdown? ;)

Yours Truly

Sir Rob