Patrick Woodhead - The Cloud Maker (2010)

Ten minutes later he stood at the base of the cliff with three of the SOF soldiers as the remainder busied themselves establishing a new camp on the edge of the snowline. As he explained the mission he looked into their faces, suddenly realising how young they all were. At most they were in their early-twenties. In the moonlight, he could see their frightened expressions. Fighting men was one thing. Fighting nature was something else.

Roped together in two separate pairs they set off, rifles slung across their backs. They climbed without gloves, the rock ice-cold to the touch, with pockets of drifted snow collected in the deep cracks. But the granite itself was solid, making their footing more stable and their handholds secure.

Above them the clouds began to disperse, scattering in thin wisps across the sky and allowing a wash of silvery moonlight. Climbing slowly, they could just make out the route ahead. Both pairs followed the edge of one of the main buttresses, pressing their right shoulder against the cliff-face as they clawed their way higher. With no bolts or friends to jam into the cracks for security, the two leading climbers fed the rope over outcrops of rock that they passed, hoping it would snag if one of them fell.

Chen stopped to catch his breath and stared down between his legs, watching the soldier below him force his way higher up the face. He could hear the laboured sound of the man’s breath and see the absolute concentration in his eyes. Chen pulled up some slack, looping it over a spur by his head, then turned and began climbing again.

They had chanced upon a good route and with each minute drew closer to the summit. Chen’s confidence began to soar as he saw the twinkling of stars beyond the top of the ridge. They were close now. No more than fifty feet.

From somewhere lower down he heard a scraping sound, then a long, panicked yell. Chen turned to see the lead climber from the other pair slipping down the cliff. His arms flailed desperately and his body twisted round like a spinning top, gaining momentum as he fell. For a split second, the rope between the two climbers caught on a spur, then the sheer force of the fall ripped it free, yanking the second climber from the face also. There was a long, petrified scream.

Chen watched both bodies fall the length of the cliff before thudding into the rock at its base. One of the rifles went off with the force of the impact, sending a booming echo across the entire mountainside as the bullet ricocheted off into some unseen distance. A silence followed that seemed to drag on and on.

Chen felt a pulse thundering in his neck. He could feel his hands shaking as he instinctively tried to tighten his grip on the rock. His eyes switched from where the two men had fallen and connected with the soldier beneath him, attached to his rope. They stared at each other, the same fear imprinted on both faces. Then, as one, they scrambled upward again, panic and adrenaline flooding their tired muscles.

They had to get off this terrible cliff-face.

‘What the hell was that?’ Bill said, looking in alarm towards Luca.

Luca was staring down into a long vertical crack in the ground. He adjusted the beam of his head-torch to see into its depths, scanning the light over the sheer sides. In the darkness, he had almost walked straight into it.

At the sudden sound he looked up, swinging the beam of his torch over Bill. No avalanche or rock fall could have made that sound. That was something else. Flinging his rucksack to the ground and unbuckling the top flap, he pulled out the climbing rope.

‘Tie me off,’ he muttered to Bill, uncoiling the rope into a pile on the ground. He ran the few paces to the edge of the cliff, then flung one end over. A few feet behind him, Bill jammed tight a quick-release knot around a nearby boulder, before feeding the rope over his back and gripping it tight with both hands.

‘OK,’ he whispered to Luca, widening his stance to take the strain.

Luca switched off his head-torch then edged his feet out over the cliff and sank his weight into the rope. Without using a harness, he gripped tight with his hands, walking back a few paces so that he could lean right out over the cliff’s sheer side.

His eyes scanned across its great flanks, searching the darkness. Then, thirty feet to the right of where he was standing, he caught sight of a figure. It was grey in the moonlight, merging with the colour of the rock, but its quick movement had caught his eye. It was climbing fast and was now just below the crest of the cliff.

‘That’s not possible,’ he muttered, the words dropping involuntarily from his mouth.

It was the Chinese soldiers. It had to be. But how had they found them so fast?

Signalling to Bill to haul him in, Luca made it back to the flat ground, his mind racing.

‘Soldiers,’ he breathed, staring from Shara to the boy. ‘Fucking soldiers! They’re climbing the cliff-face.’

Shara instinctively grabbed hold of Babu, her fingers kneading the collar of his jacket.

‘We’ve got to run,’ she said, voice rising in panic. She pulled Babu forward by his arm, turning back towards the monastery.

‘No, wait!’ Bill shouted, raising his hand. ‘It’s too dangerous. You’ll fall.’

Shara paused, fighting her natural inclination to flee. She stood with her legs shoulder-width apart, eyes wild in the darkness. Her hands gripped Babu more tightly.

‘I’m not going to let them take him,’ she hissed. ‘I swear, they will not take this boy.’

Babu looked up at her, alarmed by the sudden vehemence of her tone and the feeling of her nails biting through his sheepskin jacket. He stood silently, suddenly overwhelmed by fear.

‘What the hell do we do?’ Bill asked, breathing hard.

Luca was staring back at the cliff edge. The Chinese would be over it in less than a minute.

‘Luca, what do we do,’ Bill repeated. With a burst of determination, Luca sprinted over to where Shara and Babu stood. Grabbing them both by the arms, he pulled them towards the deep crack in the ground.

‘We’ll lower you down there. You can hide from them and use the rope to climb out when we’re gone.’

‘But what about you?’ Shara asked.

‘You worry about the boy,’ he snapped, pulling the rope in from the cliff-face and feeding it down into the crack. He turned to face Shara, grabbing on to her shoulders so hard that his face was only a few inches from hers.

‘You take care of Babu,’ he whispered. ‘I promise we’ll be back. Just stay quiet, whatever you do.’

Before Shara could protest, Bill had grabbed hold of Babu and was raising him on to her chest. Babu looped his arms behind her neck, clinging to her so that his head was pressed tight under her chin. With a final, questioning look at Luca, Shara gripped on to the rope and stepped backwards into the darkness beneath her.

While Luca lay flat on the ground, his arm outstretched, shining the torch as far down as he could to guide her, Shara’s felt boots edged down the sheer wall of rock, her arms shaking from the strain. Her feet suddenly pedalled out into mid-air and she hung from the rope, twisting her head to try and see below.

Luca’s torch flashed underneath her. The ground was close. Releasing her grip, she leaped back from the rope, landing heavily on the ground. For a moment she remained motionless, trying to get her bearings.

‘OK,’ she shouted, her voice echoing up the closed rock walls. In the single beam of the light they could see her staring up at them, the same look of uncertainty in her eyes. Without another word, Luca pulled the torch away, pitching the crack into absolute darkness. They heard Babu cry out before the sound was quickly muffled by Shara’s gloved hand.

Luca began moving forward with his head bent low, swinging the beam of the torch from side to side across the broken ground.