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Out of the Jungle

By: Cromagnonman



"My name is Xavier Ortiz, I am a journalist." I looked at Colonel Rodriguez standing in front of me, it wasn't just the jungle green uniform that scared me or the machine pistol he held so casually, its barrel pointed directly at my forehead, it was the look in his eyes that really had me worried. I could see that he didn't believe me even though he had my passport and travel papers in his other hand.

"I disagree with you Senor, you are not who you say that you are, you are not Xavier Ortiz and you are not a journalist."

"But you have my passport that says that I am, you have my visa and travel papers that say that I am Xavier Ortiz, journalist and that I am here in your country to interview Senora Mendez again for my newspaper."

"I am aware Senor that these documents all tell me that this is who you claim to be but these papers are false and I know for a fact that you are not who you claim to be." 

"There is one way that we can settle this, I have interviewed Senora Mendez in the past and she has agreed for me to interview her again. In my attaché case you will find a copy of my previous interviews with her, they have my by-line and my picture, if you need further proof if you would call her she will verify that I am who I say that I am." I was playing my last card here and if he didn't get her or she refused to back me up I don't know where I will end up, probably in some jungle camp while they tap the paper for a ransom which was more profitable to them than a firing squad, at least I hoped so.

I guess that I should explain just how I found myself in this situation. It all began some eighteen months ago in Italy, Milan to be specific.

Carmen Mendez was at the time of that interview Carmen Chavez, the daughter of El Presidente, Joachim Chavez, of this god forsaken Central American country. Carmen was a young opera singer and had just begun a season as Mimi in La Boheme at La Scala. There were rumours that had spread around Milan about the tension between Carmen and her co-star. Rumours had started after her rehearsal performance and she was being hailed as possibly the best Mimi yet, even better than Callas and that pissed off the famous tenor who was singing Rodolfo. My paper saw the newsworthiness of this situation and sent me to interview her even though I knew little about opera, I guess that they figured I'd not be overawed by her co-star's massive physical stature and reputation and produce a piece slanted in his favour. After several days of intensive coaching on the finer points of the soprano's art and that opera in particular I was let loose on her.

Expecting a Prima Donna performance from her I was surprised at her reservation, she appeared shy and distracted during the interview in her dressing room after her debut performance. "Signorina Chavez, first of all let me congratulate you on your magnificent performance, never have I heard Mimi sung with such conviction, you were Mimi." I was telling the truth when I said that, I had never heard Mimi before, but the raw emotion of her performance really moved me.

"Thank you Signor, it is unusual for a journalist who is not a theatre critic to appreciate opera." I hoped that she didn't know of my reputation as a theatre critic which probably helped me get this job.

"Signorina Chavez I have been told that a voice such as yours has to be a natural gift. When did you first realize you had such a magnificent voice?"

"Please, you may call me Carmen. It was when I was at school, I studied music and would sing at any opportunity and my teacher convinced my parents that I should attend the opera school here at La Scala."

"If you allow me to call you Carmen then you must call me Xavier, it is only fair. A natural voice is just a part of the opera singer's skill, you have to be able to drag the audience into the part, and you have done that here."

"You are not a fan of opera? I sense that you have had coaching on the questions that you have to ask, do you have a favourite opera or aria?"

She was putting me on the spot here, I could plead total ignorance or come up with an answer that would explain my limited knowledge. "You are right, I'm not a fan of opera, the vision of some middle-aged pouter pigeon soprano trying to pass herself off in the ingénue role of Juliet in Romeo and Juliet is a farce. Having said that I do have a couple of favourite arias, the first is the 'Flower Duet' from Delibes' Lakme and the second is 'In the depths of the temple' from the Pearl Fishers and both for the same reason."

"And what is that?"

"The harmonies, they are duets and when done well like when the singers harmonize rather than sing it as two solos, both of these arias send tingles up my spine, when performed at less than perfect they leave me cold like most other arias."

"I congratulate you, you are not one of these people who attend the opera to be seen but you do appreciate the finer points of the operatic art. I see that I must educate you further." She smiled when she said that and I was captivated by this woman.

"I got the impression that your Rodolfo was not happy with you, he tried to upstage you at the end of act three by standing a little behind you so that you were not facing the audience as you sang, but you ignored this and sang as you should."

"I hope that you were in the minority who noticed this. Most of the people in the audience had come to hear him sing not me so they took little notice of what he did."

"Is the role of Mimi your favourite?" 

She thought about this for a while before answering.

"Each role I sing is my favourite at the time that I sing it otherwise I cannot do it justice."

My next question was prompted by the real reason that I was here. "How long do you intend to keep singing as a career?"

She looked sharply at me as if to try to understand my motive. "I would like to continue singing for many years but my being the daughter of the president of my country bears with it certain responsibilities."

I switched off my tape recorder. "This is off the record and what you tell me stays with me, I will repeat it to no-one and it will not be a part of the interview that I publish. I understand that you are to return to your country as soon as this season is finished to marry the son of your father's best friend. I also understand that you are not happy with this arrangement but have no choice in the matter because if you don't your mother will be harmed and badly. You don't have to answer me, just nod if what I say is true." Her nod was almost imperceptible and anyone watching from a distance of more than ten metres would not have seen it. "Is there some way that I can see you without your bodyguard knowing of it?"

"That is impossible, they follow me wherever I go, and they are outside this room now. I don't know how it is that you were able to interview me alone at this time, but to be alone with you again will be impossible."

"But I must speak to you alone and I am taking a chance doing it now but I have something to tell you that is important to you. For now we must return to the interview." I switched the recorder back on. "I understand that you have been offered the opportunity of singing the Mimi role at the Metropolitan Opera in New York in three month's time, will you do it?"

"No I cannot, I have to return to my country, there is a presidential election coming up and part of my father's campaign is that I am to be married to the son of his friend Juan Mendez, the joining of these two families will give a strong indication to the world of stability in my country."

"You don't. . . ." She held up her hand to stop my question. "think that you will be returning to the opera stage in the near future?"

"I think not, my duty is to my country and duty comes before pleasure, I'm sure that you must understand this."

Oh I understood this well enough. I took a slip of paper that I had prepared from my pocket and held it in the palm of my hand. "That will be all for today but I would like to interview you again in one week's time to see how you are feeling after a week of performing this demanding role if that is agreeable to you and your people." I stood in the passage outside her door and held my hand out to her. She felt the paper and closed her hand over it as my hand left hers. It was now up to her.

As I left her dressing room I was approached by one of the bodyguards and ordered to follow him to a room at the end of the hallway. With little ceremony I was shoved inside and told to sit down in a chair fronting a desk behind which a man sat. "Senor Ortiz, your recorder if you please." I took it out of my pocket and passed it over. He pressed the 'play' button and listened to the whole interview, rewound it and played it until he came to the place where I had switched it off. "There is a gap in the interview here, why is that?"

"I felt a coughing fit coming on so I turned it off until the need to cough went away."

There was a knock on the door and a man entered, he walked around the desk and whispered in the ear of the other man who nodded that he understood the message. "It would seem that you free to go and Senorita Chavez has agreed to see you next week so until then it is good-bye."

Free, that's a joke, I was followed out of the building and back to the newspaper office and when I got back to my hotel room I was aware that it had been searched, they were taking no chances.

The next morning I was prepared for my meeting with Carmen without knowing if she was going to turn up. If she followed her instructions she would meet me at a small café around the corner at eleven, if she didn't I would receive a phone call from one of my accomplices telling me that she wouldn't be showing up.

At twenty to eleven a well dressed woman entered a large department store and walked briskly to the ladies fashion section. Here she chose several dresses and walked to the change rooms, nothing unusual about that apart from the fact that she was followed into the store by two men and a woman. The men stood as unobtrusively as man can stand in a women's fashion department, some twenty feet away casually looking over the perfumes while the woman stood outside the passage way to the change rooms.

Carmen stripped off her clothes and began to try on the dresses she had chosen. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled at the dress, she would never buy something like this unless it was for a man that she loved, it showed too much of her breasts and the skirt was close fitting over her slender hips and finished about half-way between her hips and knees with a slit up one side that almost reached her hip. Her parents would die if they saw her wearing it even after she married.

As she was looking at her reflection a woman slipped into the change room. "Nice dress, you should buy it. You are Carmen?" On receiving the acknowledgement the woman stripped off the Nike track suit that she was wearing and handed it to Carmen who quickly put it on along with the sneakers, sunglasses and cap. "You know what to do? You walk out of here, turn right and a block down you turn right again. He is waiting for you."

"But what about my bodyguards, how do I get passed them?"

"They are being taken care of."

In the store the two men had been attracted by the woman who was bent over the jewellery cabinet looking at the necklaces and ear-rings. She was bent far enough over the counter that a large amount of breast was visible. Both men were transfixed by the sight and, as she moved around the display cabinet, slowly edged their way to the side so that they could get a better view. The woman bodyguard was trying to attract their attention and tell them to focus on the job at hand. They ignored her to the point that she had to walk over to them, it was then that the woman at the counter pressed a button in her hand, sending a signal to her partner in the change room. "Quickly, walk out of here as if you were walking on stage at one of your operas, I'll follow shortly."

Carmen walked from the store and minutes later sat across the table from me in the café. "Who are you? You are not just a journalist are you?"

"That is where you are wrong, I am a fully accredited journalist working for a major newspaper group. However I have been approached by a certain organisation to speak with you on matters that affect your country and another country, not mine although the owner of the media group was born in my country but has become a citizen of the other country. It seems that the relationship between your country and this country is a little strained because of drugs. I don't know how much you know of this problem but it is causing a great deal of concern to the government of the country that has hired me."

"I know that the cultivation of cocaine exists in my country but beyond that I know little, I do not know who the major players are."

"Your father has never discussed this matter with you?"

"No, I have been away from my country for three years and have only seen my father when I go home for Christmas. He does not discuss politics with me or my mother, it is men's business."

"Your mother, she is here in Milan with you?" I knew the answer to this question already but I needed for her to open out the discussion.

"Yes she is. She came over when the rehearsals started and she will fly home with me when the season finishes."

"Do you think that she is happy about going home?"

"Why do you ask this? It is her duty to go home just as it is mine."

"What does she think of your choice of husband?" Again I knew the answer to this, she was unhappy with this arranged marriage.

"He is not my choice of husband, this has been arranged between my father and his. She has not said anything to me but I believe that she would have wished for a man who is not so much a warrior, she would prefer an artist or singer."

"But she is forced to go along with this?"

"Yes, as am I and it saddens her to think that I am to become the wife of a man who is used to such violence." I could see by the expression on her face that she was wondering just where this conversation was heading.

I reached over and took her hand in mine, a move straight out of the demonstrating empathy section of Psych 101. "How would it be if I were to write a piece about this, about you being forced to give up a promising career on the opera stage to marry a man you don't love for purely political reasons?"

Carmen held my hand tightly in hers. "No you must not do that! If you do that Mother and I will never be able to feel safe again."

"If I could move the both of you to a safe place before the story is published would you consider it then?"

"How can you make such a promise? Who do you really work for? Your name is not common in your country, where were you born?"

"Okay, I guess that I'll have to set your mind at rest. My name is Xavier Ortiz, I was born in Australia but my parents were Chilean refugees who fled their country in early 1973 just before the overthrow of the Allende government by Pinochet. I am a journalist, I have a degree in journalism from Sydney University. I worked for one of Sydney's newspapers for a while until one day I drew the short straw and was made a theatre critic and had to review a play. I'm afraid I was scathing of the star that everyone thought was brilliant when I wrote that he was so arrogant that he thought that he could play his role drunk and had set out to prove it. He was good, I'll give him that, but to think so little of the patrons as to go on stage pissed as a newt was too much for me so I told the world and got canned for it. He couldn't sue me or the paper because I had evidence to back up my story, but he had enough powerful friends to order my crucifixion. I got a job in the London office of my current employer and was recently approached with this assignment, probably because of my South American connection. Now you know all there is to know about me."

"No, not all, what about the things that matter like are you married, do you have any children, you know the human things about you."

"I don't normally talk about my private life but seeing as how you asked politely here goes. No I am not married, I guess that I've been lucky that way, I wouldn't wish me on anyone, I don't have any children that I know of or that I'll own up to, I've had several long term relationships, I don't smoke but I do drink, probably too much on occasion. That's me in a nutshell, quite boring really. Now how about you, we know that you sing like an angel have the looks of a super model and that you aren't a pretentious little princess, but what floats your boat?"

"Floats my boat, what does this mean?"

"What are you like in real life, do you have a boy friend and I don't mean your fiancé, what do you do in your spare time?"

"I did have a boyfriend a year ago but he stopped speaking to me, I assumed that it was because our country's secret police spoke to him. I have never had sex, I don't smoke because it's bad for my throat but I do drink a little because it relaxes my throat. In my spare time, of which I have little, I like to paint still life pictures in oils because I find it difficult to leave my apartment because I'm followed everywhere. My guards must be frantic with worry looking for me I should go home."

"Do you know what I feel like doing right now? As you're free of your bodyguards why don't we have some fun."

"Doing what?"

"Did you ever see the movie 'Roman Holiday' in which Gregory Peck was a journalist who met this girl. Audrey Hepburn, who turned out to be a princess and they spent the day just roaming around Rome doing things that young couples do."

"And this is what you want to do?"

"Why not, I can be Gregory Peck and you can be Audrey Hepburn although I draw the line at getting on a motor scooter."

"Where would we go?"

"I know, how would you like to take me to La Scala and show me what's involved in staging an opera."

"I thought that you didn't like opera?" 

"But I'd like to see where you work, see backstage, see the props, I want to experience your world for myself, not the world on stage that's not real, and then I might be able to write my piece with some little authority. Well, what about it?"

Carmen looked at me for a moment as if to see if I was serious or not. She made the decision and stood up, grabbing my hand as she left. "Come." Within minutes we had caught a cab and were at the theatre. "You know my dressing room and this is Rodolfo's dressing room and down the end of this passage is the rehearsal room." We stood in the middle of the room and she began to sing one of her arias, it sounded so clear and pure.

"Show me the costumes."

"The costumes for this opera aren't as elaborate as for some, you must remember that Mimi was a poor seamstress and Rodolfo was a student so they didn't wear fancy clothes." She held up her dress for me to look at.

"It doesn't matter, you'd look beautiful no matter what you were wearing." I leaned toward her and kissed her gently on the lips.

"Do you think that is a good idea?" Her lips were still close to mine.

"I think that it's a brilliant idea." I kissed her again and this time she returned my kiss, the dress dropped to the floor and she flung her arms around my neck. "You obviously do too."

"No I think that it's the silliest idea, what if we get caught?" Her eyes darted around the room, but she didn't pull away as I took her in my arms.

"How long have you got before you have to be back here?"

She looked at her watch, "Not for an hour and a half, why?"

"But you will have to go back to your apartment to change so we don't have that much time." I grabbed her hand and we walked to the stage door.

"Where are you taking me?"

"We are going to a friend's apartment to pick up the clothes that you bought today."


Out of the Jungle



"But I didn't buy anything."

"Yes you did. There were the dresses that you tried on back at the store and several others that you bought from other shops after you left the store, you didn't realise for some time that you minders weren't following you."

"This friend, was it the woman that came into the change room?" I could see that she was a little jealous.

"She is just a friend from work, nothing more if that's what you're worried about."

"But she was prepared to help you so that I could be with you."

"That was more in self defence, you see I bored her silly by raving on about how beautiful you were," I kissed her, "how sweet you were," I kissed her again, "and how much in love with you I was." We kissed each other.

"But how can you say that you are in love with me when we have only just met?" Her arms were around my neck and she spoke in a husky whisper.

"I fell in love with you when I heard you sing and I fell deeper in love with you yesterday when we met in your dressing room. I have never met a girl so perfect in my entire life and I told myself that if I didn't tell you that I love you today I'd never get another chance."

"Come, I want to see the clothes that I bought." It was a short walk to Suzie's apartment and I took the key from under the pot plant beside the door and we were inside. There were several packages on the sofa, all from fashion houses. Carmen opened them, one of them was the dress that she had been trying on when Suzie walked into the change room. "I must try this on for you. When I saw it yesterday I wondered what it would look like, I have never had anything like this, my mother buys my clothes for me and she is so old fashioned." She went into another room and when she emerged I just stood there with my mouth open, this couldn't be the same woman. Because the neckline was cut so low she had to dispense with the matronly bra that she usually wore and her unencumbered breasts stood proudly from her chest. The skirt was tight over her hips and the slit in her skirt stopped just short of her sensible cotton panties adding to the allure of this beautiful young woman.

"Wow!" I'm never tongue tied, I'm always able to come up with some comment or other to suit any situation but right now that ability had fled from me.

"Do you like it?" She pirouetted across the room and when she reached me I took her in my arms and held her to me. Her back was to me and my hands cupped her breasts, first through the material and later after slipping the dress over her shoulders, in their full naked glory. The sounds coming from her lips told me that she was enjoying the experience, her nipples had hardened to two raisin sized points. "I can never wear this at home, even in my room, if Mother came in she would be so shocked."

"You should only wear it for me." My hand had attempted to slip under the waistband of her skirt but it was too tight so I slid the zipper down to the base of her spine, the dress fell in a heap around her feet. Her panties were no match for my determination to reach my goal and an intake of breath acknowledged my success. Her pussy was moist and hot, my finger was deep inside her and she was moaning in pleasure. She said nothing when I picked her up, or when I put her down on the sofa, or when I slid her panties down over her hips and tossed them on the pile of clothes on the floor, but when my tongue entered the warm, moist recesses of her pussy she cried out.

"Oh my god I have dreamed of this moment but my dreams were never this good. Since we met in the cafe I was wondering if we would get to this point and if we did what I would do. In my head I know that this is wrong but in my heart I want this, I want to feel what it is like to be loved."

"I'm more than happy to oblige my Carmen." I actually was, but at the same time I felt a total arsehole taking advantage of her innocence like this. I know that sometimes the end justifies the means but I can't help feeling that this wasn't going to end well for either of us, but my heart also told me to live for this moment. My tongue continued to work its magic on her pussy until she was begging me to replace it with my cock. 

Carmen cried out as I broke down the final bastion of her virginity and began to give her the benefit of my vast (ha!) experience as a lover. My cock was a tight fit in her pussy and I could feel along its full length as it pushed its way deep into her. She clung tightly to me and I could feel her hips rising in time with my forward thrust until with a sob she came, her arms around my neck tightening for several seconds before she released her grip on my and collapsed on the sofa.

"I don't want to go home to my country, I want to stay here with you my lover. I am now a complete woman and it's because of you."

Oh shit, now I've done it, I was only supposed to get close to her, but she still has to go home for the plan to succeed. One of the dangers with plans like this is that the professionals who come up with these ideas fail to take into account the fact that there are actual people involved, if it hadn't been for this little wrinkle I would now be the happiest man alive. "I would love for that to happen but I don't think that your father and prospective husband are going to allow that to happen any time soon, we are just going to have to savour this moment and store it away for those dark times ahead. I love you Carmen Chavez."

"I love you Xavier Ortiz, with all my heart."

"I hate to be the one to spoil this moment but you have to get out of here and get back to your apartment and get ready for your next show. I will be there but I will not come back stage to see you, it will be better if I'm not seen with you too much or your minders will get suspicious, but I would like to speak to you so I have here a pre-paid cell phone with my number on speed dial, the lock code is 2991, your birth year backwards." 

I handed her the phone and she unlocked it and pressed speed dial 1, I answered it "Please may I speak to Xavier Ortiz, the most wonderful man in all the world?"

"Only if you are Carmen Chavez the most beautiful and talented opera singer, and lover in the world."

Carmen flung her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately on the lips before picking up the clothes that she wore when she went into the store this morning. She left the dress that she tried on that caused all of this. "I want you to keep this for the next time we meet. I will wear it to remind us of this time together and because it makes me feel sexy." She kissed me again, only this time she knew it was a farewell kiss, and slipped out the door.

Minutes after she left Suzie let herself in. "I don't need to be a detective to work out what you two have been doing." She picked up the dress that Carmen had left. "I guess that it was this that did the trick." She handed me the receipts for all of the clothes that she bought. "Cash will be fine along with your thanks."

I took out my wallet and paid her. "I don't know how I can thank you, but I'm sure that I can think of something."

"An invite to your wedding will do."

"Who said that there's going to be a wedding?"

'What, don't tell me that you're losing your touch?"

"I never had the touch in the first place. If you must know she'll be going home at the end of her season to marry the son of one of her father's friends, it has all been arranged and there's nothing either of us can do about it."

"Here, give me a hand to clean up this mess, I hope that I can get the blood stains off the sofa."

That was the last time that I saw Carmen. I sat in the back of the theatre waiting for the curtain to go up and to listen once more to her magnificent voice and see her beauty radiating out from the stage. The house lights dimmed and a single spot shone on the curtain. The producer stepped through the gap on the curtain and stood in the spot. "Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that Signorina Chavez will be unable to sing the role of Mimi tonight. Her mother has been taken ill and it has been decided that she should accompany back to their country to seek urgent medical treatment from her regular doctor." The orchestra struck the opening chords of the overture as I stood and left the theatre.

The message ringtone came from my cell phone, it was from Carmen. 'You will have heard the news by now that I have to leave and travel home with my mother. It is good-bye my love, I will never forget you.'

A month ago I received a message from what I thought would have been a long dead cell phone. 'If you still love me please come for me.' And that is why I am standing here now looking down the barrel of a machine pistol while a phone call is made to the Mendez compound in the hills to see if Carmen was prepared to see me. The soldier on the phone said 'Si' a lot and nodded his head before hanging up the phone. "Senor Mendez has ordered that we bring this man to him. I didn't much like the sound of that and on arrival at the heavily fortified compound things only got a lot worse.

"So you are Xavier Ortiz the famous journalist?"

"I am Xavier Ortiz a journalist, I don't claim to be famous."

"I understand that you are here to interview my wife, I fail to see why you would want to do that because she is no longer an opera singer, so what interest could she be to your readers?"

"The interest is from opera fans who want to know why she stopped singing so suddenly and when or if she will be making a return to the opera stage."

"You could have found the answers to this without coming all the way here, unless of course you are here for another reason."

"There is no other reason, I just want to interview her as a follow up to my previous interview." From his expression he doubted that statement.

My bags had been searched, my toiletries had all been opened, clothes removed and the lining patted down looking for anything and my laptop taken from its case. "You will switch this on."

I booted it up and typed in my password, Windows 7 burst into life. "I can show you the questions that I will ask Senora Mendez so that you can see that there is nothing there that can be of harm to anyone." I opened the file and he looked at it briefly. I switched it off and closed the case.

"Come." He strode out of the room leaving me to pick up my bags and follow him. We crossed the compound to building set apart from the other buildings. It didn't look good what with two armed guards either side of the door and bars on the window. He signalled one of the guards to open the door and then signalled that I should follow him inside. "Carmen, Senor Ortiz is here to interview you." A frightened Carmen entered the room carrying a young child. "Senor Ortiz say hello to your whore and your bastard son." With that he stormed from the room.

We stood open-mouthed in the centre of the room for several seconds before she placed the child on the floor and flung herself at me. "Xavier my darling why did you come here?"

"Didn't you send me a message asking me to come?"

"No, my husband found the cell phone that you gave me after taking it away and charging it up he forced me to turn it on, he played with it for a while working his way through the menus until he came to the call records, he read the message that I sent you and became very angry with me. "He already knew that Miguel was not his son. . . . ."

"How could he know that, you were married so soon after we made love?"

"Che, My husband is not like other men, he told me when we first married that he did not want to have children and to prevent that happening he would only make love to me in my bottom."

"Christ! Is that why you are here and not in the main house?"

"That is part of it, in the main house lives his mistress, she has been with him for at least four years, his wedding to me was to ensure that my father does not interfere with his drug smuggling operations." This much I already knew. She bent down and picked up our son, I could see instantly that Che would have doubts about being the father of this child if he had made love to her as a husband normally would. Miguel, Carmen had thought to call him Xavier but decided against it, had my nose and chin.

"I have to find a way of getting you out of here. I have some things with me that will help but I must know certain things."

"Such as?"

"Do the sentries outside the door stay there all night?"

"No, they leave at midnight."

"Your husband drives a Range Rover, a silver Range Rover, is this true?"

"Yes it is, you would have seen it as you crossed the compound." I did see it and was pleased to see that it bore the registration plates that the photograph we had obtained from the US Embassy were the same.

"When he leaves here does he drive the car or take the helicopter?" I had noticed the helicopter behind the building as we wound down the mountain on the other side of the valley on the trip here. By the look of the trucks around it preparations were being made for a flight.

"It depends on whether he is going in to the city or delivering drugs. He drives to the city."

"So he is making a delivery soon" I hoped that it wasn't too soon.

"He usually leaves as soon as it is light, that way he is airborne before the air traffic is fully operational at the airport."

"You seem to know a lot about how he does things?"

"I have nothing better to do than watch out the window at the comings and goings of this man that I detest."

"Okay, do you have any sugar in this place?"

"Yes, what are you going to do with that?"

"I'm going to disable his helicopter, it'll be able to take off but it won't get far. Now can you get a saucepan and dissolve about five hundred grams of sugar in about a litre of water, as soon as it's dissolved take it off the heat we have to let it cool down." Carmen went into the kitchen to carry out my directions. In the meantime I stripped the hard plastic lining from my laptop case, in the lid was a large plastic bag holding a thin layer of iron oxide (rusty iron) powder while in the base was another bag with aluminium powder. In a cavity in the spare battery for my old clunker of a laptop were three containers, the first held a bonding agent to allow me to mix and mould the iron oxide and aluminium powders while the other containers contained potassium permanganate and four vials containing anti-freeze, this was the ignition source for the thermite that will destroy the hinges of the massive entrance gates to the compound.

Carmen came back and I explained how I had planned to get us out of here. "I'm going to borrow his Range Rover and drive through the gates after they're blown off, if he tries to chase us with the helicopter I figure that he'll last no more than five minutes before his engine seizes and it falls out of the sky."

"How will you be able to steal his Range Rover, it has a sophisticated security system."

"Ah but I have a spare key, you see if you have the details of a particular vehicle you can buy a duplicate key, you have to prove ownership but that's not a problem if you have the right contacts and enough money, they are bloody expensive. I just walk over to where it's parked push a button and hey presto I'm in. Be prepared to leave at three in the morning." I was feeling like a cross between McIvor and that Michael guy in Burn Notice, using simple ingredients to cause the greatest chaos.

"But this will be dangerous for you, you can't just walk around the compound when you feel like it, there will be guards everywhere."

"What is the alternative? I can't leave you and Miguel here and because I am here I feel that we will not be safe if we stay here. I know that there will be some danger in this but I have to save you." I took her in my arms and kissed her. "I love you." As if that was explanation enough for my actions.

"I love you too. I desperately want to get out of this prison but is there not another way?"

"No my darling it has to be now." I didn't want to have to tell her that there were other forces at play here. I kissed her, holding her to me as if I never wanted to let her go, that much about this operation was true, I had thought little other than how I could get her out of here safely over the past eighteen months.

"Hold me please my darling, I feel safe in your arms." She held me so tight I could feel her heart racing in her chest, my instincts had been right when I first met her, I had fallen in love with her the minute we met in her dressing room.

"You had better get some sleep, I need to watch for a while to get my bearings and check the guards."

"Be careful my love." With that she went into the bedroom. I turned out all of the lights and in the darkness I sat and watched out the window at the night activities of the compound. I let myself out the back door of the house just after midnight carrying a bottle with a little over a litre of sugar syrup. Finding the helicopter's fuel filler I upended the bottle in the filler pipe and waited in case a guard should stroll along while it was happening, until the syrup had drained into the tank. I replaced the filler cap and left.

Keeping to the shadows I made my way to the gates, there were no guards this time of night and I had little problem packing the thermite around the hinges and placing a little potassium permanganate in a hollow on top along with an electronic trigger consisting of a small solenoid switch with a sharp point that would fracture the vial allowing the antifreeze to mix with it causing the high temperature chemical reaction needed to ignite the thermite. Thermite burns at around 2500 degrees Celsius and iron melts at around a thousand degrees less than that. When the hinges melt the gates will drop to the ground and fall over and we will simply drive over them and make our escape, at least that's what the plan is.

I was back in the house before one o'clock and stretched beside Carmen in her bed. She rolled over to face me. "I was having a dream that you have come to rescue me from this prison that I lie in but I know when I wake up it will still be a dream just like every night since we met and made love."

"It is no dream, I'm here to save you. Now go back to sleep I'll wake you when it's time." Her arm snaked around my neck and she kissed me with a contented little sigh before dropping off to sleep. I on the other hand lay alongside her going over the plans from the beginning to end before starting again.

I woke Carmen at two forty-five and she picked Miguel from his bed. He whimpered and was about to cry when she opened her shirt and pushed a nipple against his mouth, he instinctively suckled for a few minutes until it dropped from his mouth, he was asleep again. The three of us walked in the moon-shadow to the waiting Range Rover, I pushed the button on the remote key and the hazard lights winked once signifying that the vehicle was unlocked and the security system disabled. Miguel was stretched out on the floor with his blanket around him, the few bags containing essentials along with my laptop case were stowed in the back. It was nearly time.

I opened the laptop and booted it, scrolling down the menu until I found the file I was looking for. Entering the firing sequence I waited until the computer told me that all was ready then I pushed the button that sent a signal to the firing mechanisms. Within seconds the thermite charges began to glow red then white and then the gates dropped to the ground, stood for what seemed like an eternity and then toppled over, falling with a loud crash to the ground as I hit the starter of the Range Rover and moved forward gaining speed as we travelled across the compound.

We were through the gates and almost to the first bend in the road before the first shots rang out, thankfully they were wide of the mark. I knew that it would be a matter of minutes before the helicopter was airborne and I had to reach the spot that I had noticed on my trip here and that would provide us with some small cover from the probing landing light. It was a large tree that overhung the road on a sharp bend, I drove as far as I could under the canopy and we waited.




Out of the Jungle



Minutes later the chopper swooped down the valley following the road, the pilot not daring to fly too low for fear of hitting a tree and this was what saved us, we were in the shadow of the tree canopy as the chopper swept by. I stood beside the Range Rover and stared down the valley at the disappearing chopper, listening to its engine, waiting for the tell-tale splutter that told me that the sugar was doing its job in disabling the motor. First it was a cough followed by a surge then several coughs then nothing, the engine was dead. The noise when the chopper crashed to the valley floor was loud and the fuel fired explosion lit up the sky around the crash site, there could be no survivors and phase one of the plan was complete.

I climbed back into the Range Rover and squeezed Carmen's hand, telling her that we were safe for the time being. The drive down to the main highway (I have to chuckle to myself when I hear this narrow road called a highway, the multi-lane road finished no more than five kilometres from the capital). When I reached the intersection I turned right, away from the capital. "Where are we going?" Carmen asked.

"We have a rendezvous with a chopper that will fly us out of here to Florida, in minutes we will be free." Some five minutes later I turned off the road into a clearing beside a chopper, it did not have the markings of any air force or government agency. A man stepped from it and approached us. 

"We were expecting you, the satellite picked up the explosion as his chopper crashed and that was our cue to begin the next phase."

"What does this all mean? Who are these people and who are you working for?"

"I'll explain it all once we're in the air." It was hard to make myself heard over the chopper's clatter but I managed. "After you were taken home from Milan I was devastated and needed to do something about it. I approached the guys that initially asked me to establish contact with you but they were as much help as tits on a bull. I had to do something so I went to Interpol and told them what had happened and what I had managed to find out. They were keen to help, they'd been trying to shut down the cartels for some time but certain government agencies that shall remain nameless kept interfering, and they felt that they would have to go it alone. I was asked to help them and in exchange they would provide me with the training and the necessary gear to carry out my part in this operation, or should I say these operations, you see shutting down one cartel will only shift the operation to a rival cartel. What this operation will do is to take out the two major players. We estimate that Che's chopper had at least a tonne of pure cocaine on it when it went down, that will put a major dent in the operation.

After a short refuelling stop somewhere, I assumed that because it was an island it was in the Bahamas but don't hold me to that, we landed at an airfield just outside Miami where we were met by a contingent of official looking men and women. Carmen and Miguel were asked to go with a couple of plain clothed women who were identified as Interpol officers, while I was asked to accompany the men to an office for de-briefing. An hour of going over and over my story and I was taken to a hotel and Carmen, and Miguel who was totally bewildered with his surroundings, he had never seen the ocean before and just stood and stared out the window.

"What will happen to us now?" Carmen asked me as we sat on the sofa looking down on the beach that night.

"Firstly we are going to get you a visa to enter Australia and then we fly to Sydney, I want you to meet my parents, and then you and I are going to get married and live happily ever after."

"Mmm, that sounds nice, especially the part about meeting your parents, I will have to thank them for producing such a wonderful son and letting me have you all to myself." Her lips found mine and were not about to lose them any time soon. My hand found her breast that not that long ago soothed the frightened Miguel, her nipple hardened under my touch and her hand found my cock ready and waiting for what was to follow, love making with no fear of being interrupted, Miguel was asleep at last and probably wouldn't surface until morning, it was just the two of us, the rest of the world didn't exist.

Two glorious days of loving later we flew to LAX and boarded the first class section of a QANTAS A380 Airbus, now this is the way to travel, the cabin crew were captivated by the awestruck Miguel and he was spoiled rotten for the whole trip. My parents were at Mascot to meet us, I'd filled them in on Carmen and Miguel but even so they were not prepared for the beautiful woman walking beside me, clutching my hand and so obviously in love with me. "Mum, Dad, this is Carmen and this is Miguel, your grandson." 

After the initial shock of meeting their grandson it was all hugs and kisses and tears as we walked out to car park. 

"Xavier tells us that you are an opera singer." My mother said as she and Carmen fussed about in the kitchen.

"Yes, but I'm not famous like your Joan Sutherland was before she retired."

"But you were very good for a short while, do you see yourself going back to singing?"

"I would love to but we have not discussed it. I will not do it if Xavier doesn't want it."

"I don't think that he will object, not when I tell him what I did as soon as I heard that you were coming to live in Australia. I went to see the Musical Director of the Sydney Opera and explained that you were coming and asking if they were interested in you auditioning for them. You are to see them next week!"

Three months later the sign outside the Opera House proclaimed a season of La Boheme starring Carmen Ortiz. Carmen was singing Mimi once more, this time to critical acclaim. I sat and watched her being interviewed by the ABC Classic Radio opera presenter. "Carmen, the Sydney Opera has been invited to take this production of La Boheme to New York and the Met, are you looking forward to finally realising that dream?"

"I would except for one small problem."

"What is that?"

"Mimi was not pregnant."