Bear Grylls - Burning Angels

He felt battered and exhausted and utterly alone, and his body was hurting like it had rarely hurt before. His head was throbbing; his mind screaming.

He started to murmur songs in his head. Snatches of favoured tunes remembered from his youth. If he could sing those songs, maybe he could block out the white noise, the agony and the fear.

Waves of fatigue washed over him. He was close to his limit and he knew it.

When the songs faded, he told himself stories of his childhood. Tales of his heroes that his father used to read to him. The feats of those who had inspired him and driven him on when he had faced his hardest tests; both as a kid, and later during his worst trials in the military.

He relived the story of Douglas Mawson, an Australian explorer who went through hell and back, starved and alone in Antarctica, yet somehow managed to haul himself to safety. Of George Mallory, very possibly the first person ever to climb Mount Everest, a man who knew for certain that he was sacrificing his life to conquer the world’s highest peak. Mallory never made it down alive, perishing on those ice-bound slopes. But that was the sacrifice of his choosing.

Jaeger knew that humankind was capable of achieving the seemingly impossible. When the body was screaming that it could take no more, the mind could force it to go on. An individual could go way beyond the possible.

Likewise, if Jaeger believed strongly enough, he could beat the odds. He could get through this.

The power of the will.

He began to repeat the same mantra over and over: Stay alert to the chance to escape. Stay alert…

He lost all track of time; all sense of day and night. At one moment the bag was lifted to free his mouth, and a cup was thrust to his lips. He felt his head being forced backwards as they poured its contents down his throat.

Tea. Just like before.

It was followed by a stale biscuit. Then another and another. They rammed them in, pulled down the bag, and shoved him back into position.

Like an animal.

But at least for now they seemed to want to keep him alive.

Sometime later his head must have dropped, jerking downwards into sleep and slumping on to his chest. He felt himself torn into savage wakefulness as he was forced into a new stress position.

This time he was made to kneel on a patch of gravel. As the minutes passed, the sharp, jagged stones dug deeper into his flesh, cutting off the circulation, causing bolts of pain to shoot up into his brain. He was in agony, but he told himself he could get through this.

The power of the will.

How long had it been? he wondered. Days? Two or three, or more? It felt like an eternity.

At some point the white noise died abruptly, and the insanely inappropriate tones of the Barney the Dinosaur theme tune began to blast out at full volume. Jaeger had heard about such techniques: playing kids’ cartoon tunes over and over to break a man’s sanity and his will. It was known as ‘psyops’ – psychological operations. But for Jaeger, it had something of the opposite effect.

Barney had been one of Luke’s favourite TV characters when he was an infant. The song served to bring the memories flooding back. Happy moments. Ones to grasp hold of; a rock upon which to tether his storm-lashed soul.

He reminded himself that this was what had brought him here. Chief amongst his motives, he was here on the trail of his missing wife and child. If he let his captors break him, he was abandoning that mission and giving up on those he loved.

He would not betray Ruth and Luke.

He had to hold on and hold firm.

Eventually he felt himself propelled into motion again. He was barely able to walk now, so they half carried him, out of the door, along the switchback corridor and into what he figured was the same room as before.

He was slammed into the chair, the bag was ripped off and the light flooded in.

Seated before him was the grey man. From where Jaeger was sitting, he could smell the stale sweat on the guy’s clothes. He kept his eyes glued to the floor as the grey man did the bored staring act.

‘This time, sadly, we do not have any tea.’ The grey man shrugged. ‘Things will only get better for you if you can be helpful. I think you understand that now. So can you? Can you be helpful to us?’

Jaeger tried to muster his muddled thoughts. He felt confused. He didn’t know what to say. Helpful like how exactly?

‘I wonder, Mr Jaeger,’ the grey man raised one eyebrow questioningly, ‘are you willing to be helpful? If not, we have no further use for you.’

Jaeger didn’t say a word. Confused and exhausted though he might be, still he sensed a trap.

‘So tell me, what is the time? Tell me the time. Surely that is not too much to ask. Are you willing to help me by simply telling me the time?’

For an instant Jaeger went to check his watch, but it had been ripped off him just moments after his capture. He had no idea what day it was, let alone the hour.

‘What is the time?’ the grey man repeated. ‘You can easily help me. I just want to know the time.’

Jaeger didn’t have a clue how he was supposed to respond.

All of a sudden a voice was screaming in his ear: ‘ANSWER THE BASTARD QUESTION!’

A fist made contact with the side of his head, punching him out of the chair. He landed awkwardly. He’d not even known there was anyone else in the room. The shock of it set his pulse hammering like a machine gun.

He caught a glimpse of three muscular, crew-cut guys in dark tracksuits reaching down to grab him. They slammed him back into his seat before melting back into the silence.

The grey man remained utterly inscrutable. He gestured to one of the muscle-bound thugs and they exchanged a few words in a guttural-sounding language, one that Jaeger didn’t understand. Then the chief enforcer pulled out a radio and spoke into it briefly.

The grey man turned back to Jaeger. He sounded almost apologetic. ‘There is really no need for any of this… unpleasantness. You will realise shortly that we are not to be resisted, because we hold every card – every single one – in our hand. Helping us will only mean helping yourself, and also your family.’

Jaeger felt his heart miss a beat.

What in God’s name did he mean – his family ?

Jaeger felt a surge of vomit rising from within his guts. By sheer strength of will he forced it back down again. If these were the people who were holding Ruth and Luke, they were going to have to kill him. Otherwise he would get free and rip every last one of their throats out.

There was a click from behind him as the door opened. Jaeger heard someone enter the room and walk past. His eyes bulged disbelievingly. He’d feared as much, but still, surely to God this had to be a dream. He felt like smashing his head against the cold grey wall in an effort to wake himself from the nightmare.

Irina Narov came to a halt with her back to him. She handed something across the desk to the grey man. Wordlessly she turned. She went to hurry past, but as she did so, Jaeger managed to catch a glimpse of the consternation – and the guilt – burning in her eyes.

‘Thank you, Irina,’ the grey man said quietly. He turned his empty, bored eyes on Jaeger. ‘The lovely Irina Narov. You know her, of course.’

Jaeger didn’t respond. There was no point. He sensed there was worse – much worse – to come.

Narov had left a bundle lying on the table. Something about it struck Jaeger as familiar. The grey man pushed it across to him.

‘Take a look. You need to see this. You need to see this to understand why you have no choice but to help us.’

Jaeger reached out, but even as he did so, he sensed with chilling certainty what lay before him. It was Luke’s SAVE THE RHINO T-shirt, the one he had got during their family safari to East Africa a few years back. The three of them had trekked across the moonlit savannah amongst herds of giraffe, wildebeest and, best of all, rhinos – their favourite animal. It had been utterly magical. The perfect family holiday. The T-shirts some of their most precious mementoes.