I've too many stories on the go at the moment, so this will probably remain as a one-part wonder, though it's open enough to extend if the mood takes me later. The thunderstorm came out of nowhere. Within minutes the deep blue sky and intense, piercing sunlight were replaced with dark, foreboding cumulonimbus, rolling off the distant mountain range. A fearsome fork of lightning was followed almost immediately by a boom of thunder which shook the very ground beneath the vehicle.

Then the heavens opened and unleashed a storm, out of season, of devastating ferocity.

Anna switched the windscreen wipers on the 4x4 to maximum speed and even then could barely see anything through the windscreen. She knew she should pull over, and not risk driving in these conditions but panic set in, and as she bitterly regretted setting out alone, so unprepared, she continued to press on towards her destination. That was her second poor decision that day. In the ten years since the war the small republic on the Atlantic coast of Africa had developed at an incredible pace. The capital, Metropole, had been gradually transformed into a playground for the wealthy, attracted by its golden beaches, stunning coastal scenery, and latterly the trendy bars and casinos that were springing up everywhere, to the dismay of traditionalists. Anna was a glamour model, well known in her profession. Her face and body were well known, having graced the pages of many a glossy magazine to be found on the top shelf of newsagents. Her trip to the dark continent was a real career break, as she was part of a bevy of beautiful girls working with the highly regarded photographer David Miles-Bowman.

They had spent most of the week shooting in Metropole, but today the girls had been given a well-earned rest day, before another grueling week. It was a common misconception that glamour modeling was easy money. The shooting schedule had been intense, and with someone like Miles-Bowman you had make a good impression quickly, or lose the chance forever. Most of the girls would spend today lazing in the sun around the pool at their exclusive hotel. Some would take the opportunity to visit the shops and Bazaars in Metropole and spend like there was no tomorrow. She knew of at least two who would probably spend the entire day having sex together in their room. Anna had other ideas.

She had a love of photography herself, and of tropical birds amongst other things. A couple of hours drive up country from Metropole was a natural bird sanctuary, a unique opportunity to see them in their natural habitats. Anna was rapidly becoming a favourite of David's and he had lent her a vehicle and one of his spare cameras to use for the day. The roads on the route were in good repair, and with peace and stability restored it was not a hazardous drive for a single woman to make. There was a steady stream of tourist traffic and nobody could remember the last time anyone suffered any sort of trouble with undesirables.

What could possibly go wrong? Anna could hardly see a thing. She slowed her speed and picked her way carefully along the road through the unfeasibly torrential rain. She did not notice as the SatNav system began to flash a warning: "No Satellite Signal", and she did not notice the crucial fork in the road where she went right instead of left. She was expecting good tarmac all the way, but after an hour she began to suspect that all was not as it should be.

The rain was easing now and as the weather cleared, seemingly magically back to relatively clear skies, the SatNav began to pick up again. She looked to check her position and found to her horror that it was indicating that she was nowhere near any recognisable route. Trying to keep calm she decided the best option was to turn round and go back the way she came.

The road was little more than a mud track, and the rain had made it worse. In the process of turning the vehicle round she found herself stuck, with the wheels spinning helplessly. She engaged the four wheel drive but to no avail. She tried to phone for help but there was no signal. Mobile phones were well catered for in the populous areas but out here in the sticks there was nothing.

She pumped the accelerator but just seemed to get more and more bogged down. Anna was dressed like a model enjoying a hot summer's day.

After all that was what she was. She had a light print top on, with no bra underneath and a bare midriff. Below she sported a white cotton miniskirt, under which she had a skimpy white thong. Bare feet and open-toe sandals completed the picture.

As she climbed nervously out of the vehicle she was hit by another deluge of rain. The aforementioned clothes were largely transparent in no time. She had no choice - she would have to try and find civilisation.

This road had to go somewhere, after all.

She set off in the direction in which she had come, and in ten minutes came across her first human contact since she had left her route.

The two men were dressed from head to toe in green, in the unmistakable uniform of the army. As she approached one of them looked at her and raised an eyebrow to his colleague. She greeted them and tried to explain her situation and ask for help but it quickly became clear that they spoke no English. She tried French, and drew a similar response. Then they arrested her.

She would soon discover that she had strayed into the demilitarised zone on the frontier, where the post-war stalemate continued in a forgotten stand-off, long after the urban rich had contrived to get on with their lives in grateful ignorance. Blonde miniskirted women were not a common sight in these parts, particularly not drenched from head to toe, with their underwear clearly visible through their skirts and their nipples, hardened from the rainwater, poking ostentatiously through a minuscule top. The soldiers seemed rather pleased with their captive and decided to avail themselves of the opportunity to grope her relentlessly as they escorted her to wherever they were taking her.

Not far, as it happened. Off the track, down a short cutting she found herself outside an enclosure surrounded by high barbed wire fences, with pillboxes at the corners. A sentry stopped the two soldiers and they had a joke together in a language she could not understand. They clearly knew one-another and she was the topic of conversation. The sentry tried to put his hand up her skirt and she managed to shrink away from him. The only word she understood was "Captain". Still soaking wet, Anna was taken to a small room in a building near the fence and motioned to sit down. One man was left to guard her. He grinned at her continuously, and worryingly he kept fumbling at his groin, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was enjoying the view.

After five minutes more men arrived, one of which spoke to her in heavily-accented English.

"I am Captain Hastings NBume. I am in charge here.

What are you doing in this area? Who are you? Anna tried to explain, but the Captain looked stern and dismissive of her pleadings. He accused her of being a spy and said there would be serious consequences. Anna began to plead with him, then he changed his demeanour and laughed.

It was a joke. He believed her story. The catch was that he was not immediately going to be helpful. "Yes, of course I will help you to get home....

but you have something I want as well. You give me what I want, I give you what you want, yes?" This did not sound good. What could she possibly have that they would need? The car? She offered to let him have it.

She would square things with David somehow.

That provoked more mirth. No, he was not interested in the car.

"You are a nice woman, very pretty woman. Me and my boys, we have been here for many months. We have no..

forts, you know. If you look after us we will see that you get home very soon." Anna knew what they wanted but didn't want to admit it to herse No feedback, no follow-up!