Chapter 1
Switzerland
Ben Hope was on the road when he got the call, winding his way through the tight twists and switchbacks of the Grimsel Pass, climbing to over seven thousand feet with the rugged green valleys and blue reservoir lakes spread out below him like a picture postcard.
More than just the most breathtaking views anywhere in the Swiss Alps, for a man of a sporting disposition the remote thirty-eight-kilometre pass offered some of the most exciting and challenging driving to be had anywhere in the world, and Ben was someone who found it hard to turn away from a challenge. The throaty roar of the twin-turbo engine all but drowned out the jazz blaring from his speakers ā Courtney Pine with Zoe Rahman had been his soundtrack for the last hour ā as he accelerated hard out of one switchback and sped into the next with all the fierce concentration and aplomb of a racing driver. The windows were wound down and the cool mountain wind was whipping at his hair.
Yes, he had to admit that life was pretty good for him at this moment, partly because heād given himself a couple of weeksā holiday and intended to enjoy his time off to the hilt. For the last two days he had been making his way across France from his home in Normandy, into Switzerland. It was a drive he could have made in a matter of hours in his high-performance BMW Alpina, but heād been taking his time, staying in nice little out-of-the-way guesthouses and enjoying the local food and wine. Heād navigated the even twistier and stunningly magnificent stretch of road from Santa Maria through the high Stelvio Pass; and of course while he was in the area heād had to check out the worldās smallest whisky bar, located in the small Alpine village of MĆ¼stair: 280 varieties crammed into little over eight square metres of space, and his only regret was that he hadnāt had time to sample them all.
The joys of being your own boss. And Ben also felt good, because the real purpose of this pleasure-trip through Switzerland was to pay a long-anticipated visit to one of his only two remaining relatives, someone he hadnāt seen in a long while and was looking forward to catching up with again. Right now on this perfect, sunny early afternoon he was less than two hoursā drive away from Zermatt, where his younger sister Ruth had recently built herself a beautiful new ten-bedroom home in the countryside.
By all accounts, Ruthās life was on the up, too. On top of being the youngest female executive director of a Fortune Global 500 company, the Swiss-based Steiner Industries business empire sheād taken over from her adoptive tycoon father Maximilian, she had a new man in her life and it sounded as though they were serious about a future together. Ben was extremely happy for her, and he looked forward with pleasure to making his possible future brother-in-lawās acquaintance later that afternoon.
It hadnāt always been this way. Like the dramatic peaks and plummeting troughs of the mountain road he was travelling at this moment, there had been many ups and downs on Ruthās bigger journey through the years, and it had been the same way for Ben, too. Thereād been a time, a long, long time in fact, when heād thought she was lost to him forever. Of all the incidents that had marked and shaped the course of his life, her abduction from a Moroccan street market as a child and the many painful years of searching for her had been the thing that had changed him most, not just because of the agony heād suffered, or the way that her disappearance had led directly to the deaths of both of their parents. More than that, the traumatic event had ultimately set Ben on the path to becoming a kidnap and ransom or āK&Rā specialist, rescuing the victims of the most evil, cruel industry in the world that preyed on innocent people and profited from tearing them away from their loved ones. A career at which heād excelled and one heād been especially qualified to pursue, thanks to his prior years with 22 SAS, the British Armyās most elite Special Forces regiment. Heād saved a lot of people and put a stop to the nefarious activities of many a kidnapper.
That was all in the past now. Or was it? As well as catching up with his sister, Ben was also planning on using this break to do some serious thinking about his own future. It had been a few years since heād officially quit his dangerous job tracking down kidnappers, moved from his then home in Ireland to a sleepy corner of Normandy and set up a tactical training establishment with his old friend Jeff Dekker.
He and Jeff had first got to know one another back during their days in Special Forces, though Jeff had been with the Special Boat Service, the SASās naval counterpart. Their training facility, known simply as Le Val, had over the years become the go-to place for private security, specialist police or military units wanting to sharpen up their skills in VIP close protection, hostage rescue, raid and counterterrorism operations. Ben and Jeff had poured everything they had into their school, aided by their business partner the redoubtable Tuesday Fletcher, and their efforts had paid off handsomely. They were all deeply proud of Le Valās reputation as the best in the business, and their achievement in building it from the ground up.
But Ben was a restless man, whoād always had an aversion to settling down in one place for too long. There were times when he worried that heād become too set in his ways, stuck in a rut and getting stale. He had a recurring dream in which heād become prematurely old and grey, trapped inside a cage from which he yearned to break free. Outside the cage was a white sandy beach leading to a vast blue ocean dotted with beautiful, enticing forested islands that nobody had ever explored. And on the shore was a jetty with a motor boat moored up, just waiting for him to jump into it and take off.
You didnāt have to be Sigmund Freud to work out the symbolism.
Lately that dream had been troubling him more often, and his self-questioning nature had caused him to wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, it might be time that he changed direction again. Maybe heād done all there was for him to do at Le Val; maybe he needed a fresh challenge to sink his teeth into, new horizons to explore.
But what could he do? Heād been self-employed ever since leaving the army, and his was a particular skillset not well suited to normal civilian life. He lacked the qualities that his sister Ruth possessed in such abundance. Heād be terrified at the prospect of having to go into an office each day, wearing a suit and tie, chained to a desk when he wasnāt dragging his heels in and out of brain-numbing corporate meetings. That was assuming anyone in that world would even have employed him. So what other options did he have? Get back into K&R?
Ben wasnāt especially good at expressing his innermost emotions and anxieties to people, but he planned on talking to Ruth about these feelings. She was someone he could confide in, and she had a lot of wisdom. Maybe sheād tell him that these self-doubts were just a phase he was going through, and that he should hold on to a good thing and not make any rash decisions.
All these things were turning over in Benās mind when his phone went. He eased his foot off the gas and pulled into the side of the straight stretch of road he was on to take the call. The caller ID told him it was Tuesday phoning. Which was a little out of the ordinary, because the guys wouldnāt generally contact him unless something was up at Le Val that they couldnāt handle on their own.
Tuesday Fletcher was one of the cheeriest, most laid-back and imperturbable people Ben had ever known. The situation had to be pretty damn dire to wipe that megawatt grin off his face. But the moment Ben heard his voice on the line, he knew this had to be bad news. Ben tensed, anticipating the worst.
āItās Jeff,ā Tuesday said. āSomethingās happened.ā
Benās mind was instantly filled with anxiety. Jeff was a qualified pilot and kept an old Cessna Skyhawk at a flying club near Le Val, which he liked to take out for a spin now and then. Had there been a crash?
He was momentarily too stunned to speak. Before he could say anything, though, Tuesday had already dispelled his worst fears.
āHe got a call from Australia.ā
Which came as a relief, but didnāt sound too good either. Jeffās mother, Lynne Dekker, had emigrated Down Under some years ago and remarried, to a local guy named Kip Malloy. Jeff had confided to Ben that his mum had some health issues. Ben was relieved to hear Jeff was okay, but worried that Lynne must have died.
But in the next moment it turned out that Ben was off track there, too.
āKipās gone missing,ā Tuesday said.
Ben reached for his cigarettes. Tuesdayās news was shocking, though on reflection maybe not completely unexpected, given what Kip did for a living. He was a farmer, but not the kind of farmer who raises crops or herds sheep. He was the owner of a considerable spread in the coastal regions of Australiaās Northern Territory, where he bred saltwater crocodiles for the meat and leather trade. Ben had come across his fair share of crocs in Africa and alligators in the American Deep South. Those were nasty enough, but he happened to know that their Antipodean cousins were far and away the most dangerous reptiles in the world. These throwbacks to the age of the dinosaurs could grow to outlandish sizes and had jaws that could snap a sturdy canoe in half with a single bite. Just why anyone would want to have anything to do with the creatures, Ben had no idea. And Kipās place had over a thousand of them.
A vision came into his mind of poor Kip getting dragged into a river or tipped out of his boat and torn to pieces. Youād disappear after that, all right, because there wouldnāt be much left to find.
He said, āMissing, or gobbled up by one of those things?ā
āThat was my first thought too,ā Tuesday replied. āBut thatās not what happened. He didnāt go missing on the farm. Apparently heād gone off to a local town to see some guy about buying a horse, and he never came back.ā
Ben shook a Gauloise from the cigarette pack and took out his lighter. āWhen did this happen?ā
āSix days ago. Lynne started to worry when he didnāt come home that night, and called the police. Theyāve searched all over the place and drawn a total blank. His carās vanished, too. Not a trace of him to be found anywhere. And the guy he was meant to have gone to see says he didnāt know anything about it and never saw him. Neither have any of the residents of the town. Kipās well known there, and youād think someone would have seen him and talked to him. But it looks as if he never reached the place. Or went somewhere else. Nobody knows. Itās a mystery. Lynneās going to pieces.ā
Ben asked, āHowās Jeff taking it?ā
āNot well,ā Tuesday said. āHeās been climbing the walls and chewing holes in the carpet ever since he got the news. And in case youāre wondering why Iām phoning you about this and not him, he doesnāt know Iām calling. I told him he should, but he said no. I asked him why not, and he said, āBecause Ben would want to offer to help, and I donāt want him to.ā So again I asked why not, and he said, āBecause Ben would deal with a situation like this on his own, and thatās what Iām going to do.āā
That sounded like Jeff, all right. Benās old friend was independent-minded to a fault and capable of being extremely stubborn.
āLet me talk to him,ā Ben said.
āHeās on the other phone right now, speaking to travel agents and getting nowhere fast. Heās determined to jump on the next plane to Australia, but heās going nuts because theyāre all booked up, even from Heathrow, and the soonest he can get a flight is three days from now.ā
Ben put the cigarette to his lips and thumbed the wheel of his lighter. At the same time, the wheels inside his head were turning, too. Times. Distances. Margins. Options. Connections. Pieces moving around his three-dimensional mental globe of the world like chessmen laying out their strategy on a board. Heād fallen silent, deep in thought.
It could work.
āHello? Ben? Are you there?ā Tuesday said.
āIām here. Iām thinking.ā
āThinking what?ā
āThinking that there might be a way to get there a lot faster,ā Ben said. āHold on a minute. Iāll call you back.ā
Ben ended the call and immediately punched in another number.
āItās me,ā he said when Ruth answered on the first ring, as if sheād been standing right by the phone expecting him to call. She sounded cheery and upbeat.
āHello, me. What time are you getting here? Donāt forget I have restaurant reservations for eight oāclock this evening.ā
Ben took a breath and came right out with it. āIām sorry, Ruth. Change of plan. I hate to do this to you, but Iām not going to be able to make it after all.ā
Her tone changed to one of dismay. āBut Iāve been so looking forward to seeing you. And I really wanted you to meet Lukas.ā
āMe too.ā
āLet me ...
