Mission Raptor

by Bear Grylls

  “Beck, no, wait!”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Beck bolted out into the cold air and ran, feet slapping on the cobbles as he pelted across to the gift store. There was no need for him to worry about blowing their cover now, as Elin and Mikael had already moved in and grabbed the suspects.

  But that didn’t change the fact that this could be Beck’s one and only chance to get his question answered.

  He burst in on a storm of noise. Several other police officers were now on the scene. They must have been stationed nearby, awaiting their cue from Mikael. The baby was screaming. Dr Winslow and the woman were both handcuffed, and protesting against the policemen. Winslow was shouting at the top of his voice, in English.

  “I tell you, this is a mistake! It was simply an innocent accident that we got the wrong prams! You’ll hear from my lawyer…”

  The scene was both chaotic and aggressive, as both Winslow and the woman wrestled against their captors.

  And then, just at that moment, the doctor caught sight of Beck.

  It was as though a balloon had been pricked. Suddenly all the air, all the fight seemed to go out of him. The woman kept shouting angrily while Elin’s eyes went wide with fury.

  “Beck! What are you doing here? Mikael, get him away—”

  Beck felt powerful hands grab his shoulders from behind and start to pull him away. Beck fought and wriggled against the grip — the emotion now bursting up from his stomach.

  It was now or never.

  “Is Dian alive?” Beck shouted as he was dragged towards the door. “My sister? Did she really die or is she still alive?”

  That was the secret — that was why he thought Winslow had wanted him dead. If Dian really had died as a baby then it wouldn’t matter that Beck had identified the doctor. But if Dian had also been one of his victims, and Winslow thought Beck had somehow got something on him — that put a whole new take on it.

  Mikael had pulled him as far as the door and Beck still couldn’t get free of the man’s grip. He had asked his question and he was still being dragged away from the answer.

  And then he heard it. The words he knew were truth — as if truth somehow sounds different.

  “She was, when I last saw her all those years ago,” Winslow said, quietly, in a way that somehow cut through all the noise and racket. A silence fell for a second, as if time had somehow stopped in that cafe. The silence seemed to hover in the air. And then the woman was screaming again, not at the officers or Elin but at him, in English.

  “Shut up! Shut up, you old fool!”

  “No. Not this time.” Winslow suddenly sounded, and looked, like a hundred year old man, weary and just wanting it all to be over. “I’m so tired of this. I’m finishing this where it began.” He looked at Beck. “Your sister was… She was the first. I had debts that were killing me, I promised myself I would just do it once, but…”

  He sighed, drew a breath, let it out again, while Beck fought to contain the pressure he could feel building inside him.

  “But I…” Winslow trailed off. “I don’t know. Just somehow it was easy. The babies knew no difference, the money was more than I could ever earn elsewhere and, I got pulled in deeper and deeper, until…” He trailed off once more.

  Everyone stood silent.

  “Until there was no way out for me but… to keep going.” He paused again. “But the guilt. The guilt has been eating me inside. And nowhere, however far away I went, could I escape it. The images, the screams… I just want it to end.”

  He turned slowly to Elin. “I’ll make a full statement. Of everything. But, Beck, yes — I can’t say if she’s still alive now, of course, but I know she was when I handed her over.”

  The world seemed to close in on Beck, a roaring storm, deafening and blinding him so that he couldn’t think or speak or do anything. He didn’t resist as Mikael moved him aside so that the officers could escort Winslow and the woman from the shop.

  Another undercover officer, a lady who Beck had assumed was just a shopper, had now picked up the baby and was calmly jiggling it to try to soothe its tears.

  But Beck did hear Winslow’s last words, just as the doctor was being led out.

  “Beck?”

  He looked up. Winslow had stopped in the doorway, putting up just enough pressure that the police officer had to wait, without forcing him along.

  “For the record… there really were complications with your birth. You were both premature, your mother had blood pressure problems, the placenta detached too soon… it was touch and go. But, I saved your life. Please remember that.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  “And this is Jonas, by the way,” Beck said to his uncle. They were back in their shared room at the lodge, showered, changed and fed — and generally feeling human once more. Jonas leaned in across his shoulder to smile at the man on the laptop screen.

  “Hello, Professor Granger. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Jonas.” Uncle Al — Professor Sir Alan Granger — gave him a friendly nod, briefly pushing his dazed expression away. “Thank you for looking after my nephew.”

  “Well, it wasn’t easy. He hardly knows a thing about surviving in the wilderness. I had to teach him it all.”

  Beck shoved a laughing Jonas away and locked eyes with Al. “So, what about it?”

  Al Granger was getting on for his late sixties. A lifetime of diplomacy and negotiation with powerful, dangerous people had given him a calm demeanour — a placid, eyes-hooded look that sometimes made him seem half asleep, while in fact his brain was working overtime.

  But Beck’s news had actually made him look wide awake, once he got over the shock.

  “Dian…” he mused. “Alive. You know it won’t be easy, of course. Fourteen years is a long time for a trail to go cold in.”

  “I know.” Beck leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist, challenging Al to come up with objections.

  “For a start, she could well be dead by now. That’s just the hard facts and a strong possibility, Beck.” Al said quietly.

  Beck grated his teeth. He knew that. He wished Al didn’t have to be so blunt and practical always — although Beck knew they had to acknowledge that strong possibility.

  We’ve always stood beside you, Beck…

  That was what she had said to him, as he had slept by that fire on the Chinese island. And if she was alive, he had to find her. If she was dead, then he would do all he could to bring her abductors to justice.

  “But at least we can try to find out, right?” he demanded.

  Al nodded.

  “Oh, we can. We must. She’s your sister. Of course we have to find out. But even if she’s alive, and I pray to God she is…” Al held up a warning finger. “Maybe whoever bought her didn’t know she was stolen. They could have thought they were paying a fee to a legal adoption agency. Your sister could have grown up in a happy home with a family that she loves and firmly believes are her own — and if that’s the case, would we have the right to turn her life upside down?”

  A survivor has to be realistic. You have to confront hard truths and work with them. Start from where you are, not from where you might prefer things to be.

  Beck had spent all his life knowing that, but this particular truth was the hardest he had ever had to swallow.

  Even Elin had conceded that sometimes there were innocent people involved. People who didn’t understand where the baby they adopted actually came from. People who didn’t realise that their joy at gaining a new child was balanced out by someone else’s devastating loss.

  If that was the case here, then maybe they didn’t have that right to turn Dian’s life inside out.

  “But we still have to find out, Al,” he repeated firmly. “I have to do this. For her. For mum and for dad.”

  Al acknowledged it with a nod, and his face went grave.

  “One other thing. Even if her family are above board and legit, the people who got her there maybe won’t be, and they are the
people we have to investigate first. There will be slime like Winslow we will encounter.” He paused. “To follow Dian’s journey, we’ll have to stoop pretty low. We’ll be in unsavoury company.”

  Beck’s mouth settled into a straight line. He was a survivor, not a fighter. But sometimes a survivor has to fight. Sometimes a fight comes to you, and then you have no choice but to fight back. But Beck had never been the one to start a fight before.

  But this fight had been started fourteen years ago by Winslow. The doctor had betrayed him and destroyed his family. Twins are meant to be together, as close as it’s possible to be. Winslow had torn them apart.

  “We’ve dealt with pretty low people before,” Beck said.

  “And, it will cost. A lot.”

  Beck grinned. He knew that Al had been about to say that.

  “Got both points covered. I can think of someone who is also used to dealing with slime, he’s inherited a fortune, and he owes me some serious favours!”

  “Who—” Al frowned, and then his eyes went wide as the penny dropped. “Oh no, Beck! No! Not James!”

  “Who?” Jonas asked, puzzled.

  Beck smiled up at him, but it was a flat, feral grin that hid churning emotions.

  “An old friend who I once saved from — well, I saved him from many things. Not least from himself.”

  Dian was out there somewhere — maybe alive; maybe dead; maybe happy; maybe suffering. There was a fourteen year old trail to pick up and it began here, in this room, tonight.

  He thought again of the raptors that had patrolled the crags of Storkittel as they had made their way out of the wilds. Those silent hunters were only doing what came most naturally to them. They hunted their prey in order to survive.

  Predators like Winslow were an offence against nature and now it was time to turn the hunt against them.

  Survival Tips

  Surviving in the Extreme Cold

  BUILDING A SNOW CAVE

  If you’re stranded in the snow away from shelter, you need to get yourself out of the biting wind and retain warmth. Snow is an amazing insulator, so dig yourself a snow cave.

  Fashion a shovel from anything flat and wide with a sharp edge

  Find a deep area of snow

  Dig straight down a couple of metres

  (If the snow isn’t very deep, then try and find a pile-up at the base of a hill and build the sides up and pack firmly — if you don’t do this, it might not stand strong whilst you’re inside)

  Then cut horizontally into the firm snow a couple of metres from the top, removing small squares one at a time, you’ll use these to block the entrance later

  Build your cave with a higher shelf for you to rest on; cold air is denser than warm so falls to the floor meaning you can remain in the warmer air at the top.

  Be aware — don’t make your cave a tight fit as snow shrinks

  Make sure there’s a hole for air circulation, either through the top, or when you patch up the entrance

  Smooth down the ceiling to prevent melting snow from collecting on any ridges

  CLOTHING

  Make sure that you layer your clothes in the most efficient way possible. Your head and face are more sensitive to the cold which might make them feel colder, but actually your whole body needs to be well insulated.

  Wrapping up tight — literally — isn’t always best; having a few layers of clothing which aren’t tight to the skin allows your own body heat to circulate between the layers of fabric and your skin.

  Always keep your extremities like your nose and hands covered.

  In wet and cold climates, you can become cold very quickly if your clothing gets wet, so always look for shelter if it’s raining or snowing. Wet clothes lose around 90% of their insulating power. If your shoes are wet, it’s best to take them off and allow them to dry naturally whilst you’re sleeping as you do not want to damage them.

  Lastly, shield your eyes from the glare of the white snow where possible.

  HYPOTHERMIA

  Hypothermia happens when your core body temperature drops below 35C — normal body temperature is around 37C, so a couple of degrees can make all the difference. There are a few tell-tale signs that someone has hypothermia. The things to look out for are:

  Slurred and mumbling speech

  Violent shivering

  Loss of coordination — someone suffering from hypothermia may not be able to do up their clothing or tie a shoelace

  Abnormally pale skin

  Fast breathing

  But rest assured, there are several things that you can do for someone that you suspect is suffering from hypothermia:

  Try to reduce the amount of heat that is lost. Add more layers of clothing and attempt to dry existing clothing if it’s wet. You could also try to encourage the person to move a little — exercise is key to staying warm in cold weather situations, but too much might make you sweat and that could turn to ice against your skin as soon as you stop, which will make you colder.

  Make sure that the sufferer is well hydrated and fed. Carbohydrates, fats and proteins all release energy which warms you up! Hot drinks, if available, are particularly effective.

  To avoid the risk of hypothermia, you should keep drinking and eating regularly and keep up with gentle activity. And of course, stay wrapped up.

  FEELING THIRSTY?

  Collect clean snow and let it melt in a container before drinking it. Snow might look light and fluffy, but eating it directly can cause cold burns on your lips.

  * * *

  Above all, remember: never, ever give up!

  Mission Jaguar

  Bear Grylls

  Chapter One

  The rain forest’s steam-bath humidity wasn’t meant for running in, but the dark-haired girl stepped up her pace as she pushed her way through the undergrowth, not minding the sharp leaves that scratched at her face. Male voices were shouting through the trees behind her but she had vowed she wasn’t going back. Not this time. Not ever again.

  She knew she was heading straight for the cliff, a sheer limestone wall twenty metres high blocking her way, and they probably thought they had her cornered. But even though they might be old and unfit, she wasn’t. She could take it. Grab the cache, scale the cliff, and leave them behind.

  And then she would be alone in the jungle. She knew it would be hard, and she may not make it out alive, but even if she was never seen again, even if she ended up jaguar food with her bones picked clean by soldier ants, she would die free. Her last, final act of defiance …

  Something grasped her foot and held it like a trap. She gasped as the rest of her kept moving, straight down into the jungle floor, ploughing into the mass of rotten leaves and damp soil.

  “No!” She shouted it, angrily, spitting out a mouthful of mulch. She tried to jerk her leg free and winced as a jab of pain shot through her muscles. A sprain could change everything. She could see the culprit — a vine like a steel wire wrapped around her foot. She had to sit up and twist around and work it free with her fingers — just kicking only made the wire tighter.

  She could hear the pursuit getting closer. The shouts had stopped but she could hear the movement. And her headlong blundering had just opened up a path through the undergrowth. If she was going to get away it had to be now.

  “Hey, I think she’s stopped …”

  They were almost on top of her. She pulled her foot free, leapt up and started running again, all in one movement. Something like a red hot needle seemed to stick into her ankle joint. She would never make it to the cliff before they got to her. She could hear them, only metres away.

  Tears swam in her eyes but she wasn’t giving up. Her fingers closed accidentally around a loose branch and she thought, well, why not? Time to make a last stand. She wasn’t going back.

  The first of them burst out of the undergrowth and she swung the branch at him. Only his very fast reactions stopped her from knocking his head off. He stopped dead, tilting right over backwards, feet sk
idding in the dead leaves to avoid the blow.

  “Woah! What are you doing? It’s me!”

  And then he staggered forward as someone else cannoned into him from behind, caught out by his sudden stop.

  They weren’t who she had been expecting at all. They weren’t Silvio or any of her father’s goons. Just a pair of teenage boys — and she knew one of them. The taller, fair haired one.

  “I can see that!” she hissed. “What are you doing? And who are you?”

  She said that last bit to the second boy as he emerged from behind the first. He was staring at her like she was from outer space. His face was obscured with muddy patterns like some kind of jungle guerrilla, but still he seemed kind of familiar, for about half a second, before her conscious mind told her she had never seen him before in her life. He was a little shorter than the blond one, dark haired, with a wiry figure that, unlike the other boy’s, seemed to know exactly what it was doing with every movement.

  Apart from his mouth, which didn’t seem capable of movement at all.

  “Oh, ignore him,” the first boy said dismissively after they had stared at each other for a couple of seconds. “He’ll get over it. What are you doing? I told you to stay put!”

  “And I told you, idiot! I’m escaping!”

  “Oh.” He looked nonplussed, then very pleased with himself. “Well, you don’t have to anymore you see, ‘cos we’re rescuing you.”

  An alarm bell chose that exact moment to start ringing through the jungle. She watched his face fall.

  Brilliant. Just brilliant. The one thing she hadn’t wanted — the whole hornet’s nest stirred up.