New Storm Rising

07. Surprises from Your Husband

"There is an unalterable truth about men of wealth and power," Mr Ambrose declared, as he strode ahead of me, towards a small building in the distance. "They do not like to lose it."

"You don't say?" I enquired, the corners of my mouth twitching. "I would never have guessed."

"Remove that smirk from your face, Mr Linton. I was not talking about myself."

Dang! Did he have eyes in the back of his head?

"Then who were you talking about?" I asked, deciding to grab the opportunity to change the subject.

"Spain." Pushing open the door to the little shed, he gestured me over to a crooked table that was the only piece of furniture in the dingy interior. "Or Spain's nobles, to be precise. Come here."

Curious, I stepped forward. There was a map spread out over the table, showing both North and South America. It didn't take me long to notice that the southern half was covered with notes, arrows and marks that looked very much like crossed swords.

Battles.

"During the last few decades," the cool voice of Mr Ambrose filled the room, "Spain's colonies in the new world have rapidly fallen, one after another. Whether it be due to economic crisis, incompetent leadership, or any number of different factors, the Spanish dominion has been quickly vanishing into thin air. Something that...certain influential elements among the Spanish nobility do not approve of. A few years ago, they were like gods—able to command half the world with a flick of a finger. Now, all they have left are some run-down islands in which rebellion is rumbling. They aim to change that situation."

"But..." I felt a shiver travel down my spine. "This is the United States of America! They threw out the British back when they were only thirteen ramshackle colonies! And, in case you didn't notice, they've come a long way since then! Have the Spanish gone insane?"

Mr Ambrose gave a dismissive wave. "There is more than one type of power. By traditional means, they would never be able to conquer even a postage-stamp-sized part of this country. But out here, in the wilderness of the West, where there are no laws, no limits and no boundaries? As long as they act under the mantle of private individuals and businessmen, they can do whatever they wish."

From outside, I heard the cracks of whips and bangs of gunfire. I reached the window just in time to see the group of burly enforcers chase the crowd away.

"I see," I said.

That still left one rather important question unanswered, though.

"So...what exactly are they after in this place?"

Mr Rikkard Ambrose gave me a considering look—then turned away, pulling a key from his pocket.

"Let me show you."

Striding forward, he bent down, grabbed something, and...

"A trap door?"

Mr Ambrose didn't answer. He simply pulled it open and disappeared down the ladder.

"Would you like to go first, Mrs Ambrose?" I asked, addressing the empty room. "Ladies first, Mrs Ambrose. I always take care of my wife, Mrs Ambrose."

Silence.

"Oh, fiddlesticks!"

Grumbling, I hurried towards the opening and started scrambling down the ladder. Glancing down, I couldn't even see the end of it. It seemed to vanish straight into the darkness below. Lucky I had always been sure-footed. Quickly, I started climbing, and—

Suddenly, my head felt odd. I started swaying.

"What the—!"

Before I could get another word out, I felt as if the world tilted. My feet slipped from the rungs. Instinctively, my hands clenched around the ladder, but they were too darn slippery! I was going to fall! I was going to—