The last time Humboldt had heard his nickname, Elizabeth had fallen to her death screaming it. Finding them stamped onto the side of the munition crates had sickened him. How could Henry defile them in this way, Humboldt shook the crate with rage. He had never truly hated Henry for what he had done to him and Elizabeth. Pitied him, yes, but never hated, not until now. Yanking down an oil lamp that hung from a rusty chain, he smashed it over the nearest crate, spilling its contents, and with little satisfaction, set it all alight. Flames sprang up fast and furious, rolling up and over the cavern roof. Soon the entire cave was full of burning crates. The furnace heat scorched and cracked the very rock, bringing large chunks of stone crashing into the pyre. The air was a flood with sparks and embers. Pleased with his handy work, Humboldt backed away from the inferno, and out of the cave.

Ammunition started to erupt, sending bullets cracking and whizzing through the air, weaving a deadly web of lead. Humboldt emerged into a small narrow wedge shaped ravine that had been cut into the river bank. Temporarily blinded, Humboldt winced against the early evening sun. Standing in the cavern mouth, he raised his arm to shield his eyes. Looking through his splayed fingers, he could see two black oval shadows approach him, a mirage of a stalking tiger with two giant black oval cat's eyes pinned him down with their relentless stare. Gradually his sight adjusted, coming back just in time for him to see two Egyptian rebel soldiers, shouting and waving guns rushing towards him. Shots ricocheted close to Humboldt's head as the rebels took aim and fired.

The heat of the fiery cave scorched his back, the smoke choked him. Humboldt drew his gun, dove to the sandy ground, and with quick precision he managed to take down one of the two men with a shot to his shoulder, followed by a second to his chest. Humboldt's marksmanship was accurate and deadly. The second man, seeing his comrade fall, was unwilling to fight a fair battle, and so took his leave, running back the way he had come. Firing wildly over his shoulder, the Egyptian ran down around the cliff wall and over a loose stony path that led to a poorly built jetty that jutted out into the river. Humboldt gave chase; he needed this one for questioning. Rounding the cliff, he could see that the rebel had boarded a small boat with a crude motor that was attached to two small paddle wheels on either side. The man was already steaming away. Knowing he couldn't catch up in time, Humboldt ran along the stony path and down onto the riverbank. As fast as his aching legs would go, Humboldt ran parallel to the maneuvering boat. The rebel throttled the boat's engine and picked up speed moving further away into deeper water.

Humboldt could see that the river and boat were turning away from him, he took his only chance. Picking up speed, he turned and ran to the edge of the bank. With a great effort, he launched himself up into the air, and jumped the growing gap. Landing in the boat beside the fleeing rebel, Humboldt's momentum meant he wasn't staying in the boat for long. Off center, and wildly out of control he continued to pin wheel over the opposite side of the boat. As he flew past the rebel, Humboldt managed the take hold of the man's clothing, sending them both flying out of the boat and into the river. Humboldt struggled to orientate himself, and swim upwards. Breaking the water's surface, he coughed up a bitter mouth full of water. Nearby, the rebel frantically thrashed his arms, wailing for help as he sank below the surface several times. Swimming over, Humboldt reached down, grasped a handful of hair, and dragged him up. The frantic struggles of the panicked man almost drowned them both. With a solid punch to the back of his head, the rebel grew still. Once out of the water, Humboldt tied him to one of the jetty's stanchions, and waited for him to come to. His own head throbbing, Humboldt's prisoner opened his eyes. The sun sent a blinding jolt of pain shooting through the man's already aching brain. Sitting patiently, Humboldt watched as his prisoner livened up, and was ready to be questioned.

"You speak English?" asked Humboldt, tapping him on the cheek with his kukri knife, letting the tip prick his skin.

The rebel whipped his head to the side and away from the knife. "Fuck you! Is that English enough?"

The enraged man spat a large glob of phlegm onto Humboldt's boots and sniggered at his captor.

Humboldt dug his boot down into the sand, wiping it clean. Looking at his prisoner, he smiled,

"Yes, good enough, now, if you want to live, answer my questions. Or, if you would prefer, I could slit your throat now, and you can join your friend over there and feed the vultures, your choice really. Which is it to be?" Humboldt let the knife drop to the man's shoulder, and then pressed it hard against his neck. "Choose, choose now!"

Trying hard to move away from the cold knife, the rebel came up short, the bonds tying him to the post dug into his arms. With no choice but to submit or die, the rebel nodded his head in agreement.

Humboldt sheathed his knife "Good choice. Now, what's your name and who's your leader?"'

"I am Al Kamier, my Captain is Halgardy. We follow one truly great man, Colonel Urabi. He sees you pig dogs for what you truly are, foreign invaders who are here for our wealth and treasures, nothing more. Once you have wrung our lands dry and stolen everything our country possesses, you will toss us aside in your rush to leave". Al Kamier spat on the floor.

Ignoring the man's rant, Humboldt continued, "Where did you come from, what were you doing here? And why did you attack me and my men?"

With a sneer Al Kamier said "We came from the east to acquire munitions for our rebellion, to free us of your unlawful tyranny. You and your men were in the way. As they say, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I thought we had killed you all, including the rat that rode off; we got him within a few miles." A wicked grin flourished his face "His horse will still be dragging him to a well-deserved death as we speak." Al Kamier chuckled.

Humboldt held his anger in check, not rising to the taunt. He would not give the rebel scum the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. "Who's supplying you with weapons? Where are they bringing them in from?"

Al Kamier shrugged his shoulders. "All I know is that the man we talk to, Barkermouth, is English. Funny isn't it, you people will even kill each other to make money?"

Humboldt shot to his feet on hearing the name. "Hilarious. You've met this Barkermouth, where?"

Seeing that his captor reacted to the mention of the name, Al Kamier knew he had a bargaining chip after all.

"Ah, I see you know this name. I also see you are going to kill me once you have all your answers. So why would I hasten my own demise? You give me my freedom, and I shall furnish you with the answer you so desperately desire"

Humboldt shook his head "If you don't give me answers, I promise you I will end your days slowly and painfully" Drawing his knife back out of its sheaf, he pointed it at the rebel to emphasize his point.

Al Kamier sneered "We are at a stalemate then. I cannot give you what you want for anything less than my life. You can give me this, yes?"

Humboldt knew his type. All of his answers were more than likely false. Al Kamier would die if he had to, especially if he could hinder an Englishman in the course of his duty.

Humboldt nodded "OK, your life in trade. You have my word. Where is this Barkermouth?"

Al Kamier said "Ah, the famous Englishman's word, where would the world be without that, well I guess it will have to do, yes?" The prisoner lifted his bound hands towards Humboldt.

Un-holstering his gun, Humboldt cut his captive's bonds "Answers, now"

The freed prisoner rubbed life back into his wrists and hands, then untied the rope binding him to the stanchion. Freed, he sat against the rock wall and drank from the water canteen Humboldt threw at him.

Al Kamier pointed at Humboldt "I do not understand you Englishmen. You guide your lives based on honor and decency, but walk into our country as if you have every right to our people, our wealth, and our land. You then treat us as if we are nothing more than cattle. And you think we are the enemy of Egypt. WE ARE EGYPT!" the man spat his anger.

Humboldt shrugged his shoulders, he had heard this argument before and probably would hear it many more times before he boarded a ship home. Humboldt's patience was growing thin. "Answer's now, speeches later".'

Al Kamier shook his head "No, I've not met this Barkermouth. But I have dealt with his associate up in Alexandria"

Humboldt insisted "I need names and addresses"

Al Kamier chuckled and said "Williams, the British Embassy. You understand the humor now. Your own officials are making money off the deaths of their own men. You will be defeated, and it will be by your own hand" Al Kamier smiled as he spoke; the irony was not lost on him.

Humboldt raised his gun, threatening him "You're lie. An Englishman would never do such a thing. You Egyptians will say anything. This is your last chance to tell the truth or you will die, I promise"

Al Kamier held up his hands, as if to surrender his life "Yes, we would say anything to upset the invaders of our country",' he nodded "but what I have just told you is the truth. Accept this, or execute me. Either way I will be free of you"

His rage growing, Humboldt growled "The bastards, I'll have them hung for this". Without warning, Humboldt lowered the barrel of his gun, aimed and shot the rebel in the foot. He returned the smoking gun to its holster.

Al Kamier screamed in agony. Reaching down, he held his injured foot in his hands and rocked back and forth. He screamed as much in anger as in pain. "You English pig dog, I should have known you would not keep your, so valued word. I'm glad your own officials are helping us kill you" he screamed.

With little satisfaction Humboldt said "I have done as I promised. You're alive are you not? I cannot leave you to rush off and raise the alarm before I can get away, can I? This way we both get what we want. Well, to some degree anyway"

Humboldt shouldered his pack, slung his rifle over his shoulder and attached his canteen to his belt. Turning back to Al Kamier, he said "We're much the same, you and I. We fight for what we believe in, for our country. We both believe the enemy to be the devil. And we put our lives in the line of fire to make sure we're on the winning side" Humboldt turned away from the lame man and began to move away. Calling back over his shoulder, he warned "don't even think of calling out until I'm far away or I'll make sure you're on the losing side, all by yourself."

Climbing out of the ravine, Humboldt scanned the surrounding barren landscape, and tried to deduce which direction would get him back to his unit, possibly to the south. Once back with his unit, he would ask for permission to travel to the city of Alexandria, to hunt down the traitor, Williams. Humboldt swore he would beat the man until he gave Henry up, he would prove that his brother did indeed sell weapons to the enemy. In doing so, Henry had betrayed his Queen and his country. The hangman would have another neck to stretch. Humboldt picked his way through a field of rock, before dropping down into the scrub-land below and eventually walking out into the open, arid desert. Wrapping a damp piece of cloth around his head to help ward off the sun, he began his march southwards, keeping the river to his left at all times.

Not satisfied with causing Elizabeth's untimely death and placing the blame squarely on Humboldt's shoulders, Henry had now gone too far. Humboldt fumed with rage as he made his way into the dunes. He shouted out into the wind.

"One day soon Henry, I will find you, and I will kill you for what you've done to our dear sweet Elizabeth and her memory. I promise you that much" Humboldt crested a dune and disappeared over its top as the sands picked up and darkened the sky once again. The sandstorm would make traveling the desert difficult even for the native Egyptians. Humboldt continued nevertheless, his rage fueling his march.

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