Bear Grylls: The Hunt (Will Jaeger Book 3) Read online

  He pulled a Maglite from his pocket and shone the flashlight through the hole, focusing the beam so that it illuminated the interior. He expected to see HEU all the way through, confirming that there was more here than they had been anticipating.

  Suddenly Professor Pak Won Kangjon stopped and stared.

  His torch beam had caught upon something yellowish-brown in colour lying at the centre of the cube. It looked to him like a lump of . . . plasticine. But what was a lump of plasticine doing crammed into the centre of a cube of weapons-grade uranium?

  Moments later, he felt his blood run cold. As he moved the beam around, it glinted upon a wire. He dropped the torch and backed away from the bench. Surely to God it couldn’t be . . .?

  Somehow he found his voice. He barked an order, then turned and stumbled from the room. As he hurried ashen-faced down the corridor, his assistants swung closed the heavy steel door that secured the strongroom, and locked and barred it.

  The last thing the professor wanted was to be the bearer of bad news, and this surely would be the worst kind imaginable. Kammler, he knew, was not beyond shooting the messenger. But if he didn’t raise the alarm, he feared he was dead in any case.

  He stopped at his desk, and dialled his boss’s number. A voice barked an answer.

  ‘Mr Kraft, I have been inspecting the new shipment,’ Professor Kangjon stuttered. ‘I am afraid there is something not quite right with it. You see, inside the uranium someone seems to have placed what looks like an explosive charge.’

  There was an outburst of expletives on the other end of the line.

  The professor visibly cringed. ‘Yes, Mr Kraft. Please come see. Right away.’

  As he replaced the receiver, his hand was shaking.

  How on God’s earth could this be happening?

  67

  As he neared the rear of the OP position, Jaeger pressed the toggle of his SELEX Personal Role Radio and spoke into the mouthpiece. With a three-mile coverage, he was well within range.

  ‘Jaeger, coming into rear of the OP.’

  ‘Got it,’ Alonzo confirmed.

  The American operative was keeping a sharp watch as Jaeger skied in. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder darkly. ‘Narov’s forward with Raff. There’s been a . . . development. Best you go see.’

  Jaeger clipped himself out of his skis. ‘What kind of development?’

  ‘Buddy, you need to speak to those two. In fact, maybe I’d better join you.’

  Together Jaeger and Alonzo crept through the bush, bringing some of the scavenged rations with them, and slipped inside the OP. The four of them were jammed tight in the darkness. The confined space was fetid and stinking – the result of several days’ occupation by unwashed humans who had been forced to urinate and defecate where they lay.

  They were on ‘hard routine’ – a practice pioneered by the SAS, in which all signs of human occupation were kept to an absolute minimum. It required peeing into bottles and wrapping your own faeces in a combination of cling film and plastic bags, a bit like a dog walker would do with their animal’s mess.

  Hard routine could prove critical to a mission. If you left human waste lying round your OP, and especially if the bad guys had search dogs, it was a dead giveaway. Plus it would inevitably attract wildlife, another telltale sign. In fact, you might as well run a Union Jack up the flagpole.

  But Jaeger could sense something else overlying the rank stench. There was a dark tension to the air; a deafening silence. You could slice the atmosphere with the proverbial knife.

  Clearly something had gone wrong; something that seemed to have set his teammates against each other.

  He eyed Raff and Narov. ‘Tell me.’

  For a long beat, no one spoke. It was Raff who finally broke the silence. ‘The tungsten bomb was delivered to the laboratory maybe an hour ago.’

  Jaeger gave a start. ‘Then why haven’t you blown it? What’re you waiting for?’

  Raff’s features darkened. ‘Peter Miles is down there. Kammler made a show of bringing a figure out of the accommodation block and marching him across to the lab. It was Miles.’

  ‘Fuck.’

  ‘If I had had my way, we would have blown it anyway,’ Narov hissed. ‘We risk the lives of so many for one man, when we have every reason to believe he would want us to press the button. His life to save the world – Miles would not hesitate.’

  Raff ignored the comment. ‘He had a black bag over his head,’ he explained to Jaeger. ‘Kammler removed it in full view, so we could get a good look. Miles has been beaten half to death. Trust me, Kammler knows we’re watching.’

  ‘We figure they scarfed him up at Falkenhagen,’ Alonzo added, ‘then shipped him here. We think he arrived in the SUV that brought the tungsten device.’

  Jaeger grabbed the SwiftScope and swung it around until the lab was in full view. ‘Any sense where they’re holding him exactly? Any chance we can bust him free?’

  Raff was about to answer, but Jaeger silenced him with a gesture. He kept his eyes glued to the scope for a few long seconds before sinking back, a look of utter shock and horror on his features.

  ‘It’s her,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘She’s down there. With Kammler.’

  No one needed him to explain who he meant. Ruth Jaeger had just made an appearance at the plant.

  One by one they took a turn at the scope as Jaeger slumped against the back wall of the OP in a dark and brooding silence. Kammler was standing out the front of the plant, the distinctive figure of Ruth kneeling before him, bound and gagged.

  It was Narov’s voice that broke the quiet. ‘I still say we blow the charge. Two lives sacrificed to save the world . . . It is what Miles would want. As for her, she’d be better off dead. She doesn’t deserve—’

  ‘And what the fuck do you know?’ Raff cut in accusingly. ‘She’s tied up, or hadn’t you noticed?’ He turned to Jaeger. ‘Trust me, he’s holding them both as captives. He’s using them as human shields to safeguard his lab.’

  ‘Fuck.’ Jaeger felt as if his mind was about to explode. ‘Fuuuuuk. So what the hell do we do?’

  Three sets of eyes stared back at him blankly.

  68

  ‘You know what Miles would say?’ Narov reiterated. ‘Even though he is being held hostage, he would still tell us to detonate. He would sacrifice his own life to save countless millions. I do not understand what we are waiting for.’

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ Jaeger fired back at her. ‘It’s called compassion. Empathy. And basically you’re devoid of it.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Raff cut in. ‘You’d sell out your own grandmother.’

  Narov turned on them. For a moment it looked as if she was about to lash out, but somehow she managed to hold herself back.

  ‘Let me tell you something about my grandmother,’ she hissed. ‘The man who raped her . . .’ She paused. ‘That man was SS General Hans Kammler.’ She jabbed a finger in the direction of the plant below. ‘That bastard’s father. Which makes him my half-uncle. So rather than selling out my grandmother, I’m here to make sure she’s avenged!’

  Jaeger shook his head in disbelief. ‘Kammler? Your uncle? But you’ve never breathed a word.’

  Narov glared. ‘And I should tell you because? When did you ever give a damn about anyone other than your turncoat of a wife? She came here against all our wishes and against everything we stand for. She should die along with the rest of them.’

  Jaeger’s eyes flashed anger. ‘What, because she’s the hostage of a madman?’

  ‘Okay, guys, knock it off,’ Raff cut in. ‘Time’s running out. What the fuck are we supposed to do?’

  Silence. Brooding and toxic.

  No one had any suggestions.

  Jaeger felt the Iridium vibrate. He pulled it out expecting another of Kammler’s messages seeking an update from the recently deceased Ustanov. But he saw instead that he had an incoming call, the ID showing it to be ‘K’.

  Hans Kammler himself.

  He was torn. Should he or shouldn’t he answer?

  If he didn’t, that would sow the seeds of doubt in Kammler’s mind that all was well with Ustanov. And while Kammler would know Ustanov’s voice, surely he wouldn’t know those of all his team? It could be any one of them speaking on behalf of their boss.

  He let the call go to voicemail. No message was left. Instead, the Iridium began to vibrate again.

  Jaeger grabbed his khaki scrim and wrapped it around his face, flicking the Iridium to ‘speaker’. The combination of the scarf and the broadcast-mode should muddy his voice enough, or so he hoped.

  He pressed answer.

  ‘Good morning, William Jaeger,’ a voice rang out.

  Kammler’s.

  ‘Plus the delightful Irina Narov. And the redoubtable Raff and Alonzo. Do I have you all present and correct, and hanging on my every word?’

  Jaeger glanced at the others: how in God’s name did Kammler know they had Ustanov’s phone? And how on earth was he supposed to respond? He didn’t feel as if he had any alternative but to answer.

  ‘We’re here,’ he confirmed through gritted teeth.

  ‘Welcome,’ Kammler continued, ‘although I understand you’ve actually been here for some time. You should have popped down earlier to say hello. Oh, if you’re wondering how I know you’re here? The Iridium: great technology. Sometimes the Americans do get it just right. It has a camera front and back and a remote interrogate function. Look at you all. Crouched in your stinking, shitty little dark hole.’

  He guffawed. ‘Say hello, everyone. Give Hank and his buddies a wave.’

  69

  Jaeger could have kicked himself. Why hadn’t he thought to disable the Iridium’s camera? It was so easy to do: a strip of gaffer tape slapped over the aperture, for those who didn’t have the brains or the nous to master the software.

  As it was, Narov reached for the satphone, pressed a few buttons and disabled the video function. At least now Kammler couldn’t spy on them.

  ‘Such a pity – you’ve gone,’ Kammler continued, ‘And you know how much I love a little theatre. Talking of which, if you look out of your hovel, you’ll see me outside my laboratory with two of those who are so very dear to you.’

  Jaeger crawled across to the OP’s opening. Kammler was surrounded by a phalanx of gunmen now. Bodyguards. Jaeger recognised one of them instantly: it was the massive, muscle-bound hulk of Steve Jones. He’d never believed he could feel so much hatred. He felt an irresistible urge to dash down the hillside, all guns blazing.

  ‘All sitting comfortably?’ Kammler’s voice queried. ‘Then I’ll begin.’

  Jaeger saw him give a signal, and the bound forms of Ruth and Peter Miles were forced to their knees in front of him. Jones strode up behind them and drew a pistol. At a gesture from Kammler, he smashed the butt into Peter Miles’s head. The elderly man keeled over, but Jones grabbed him by his hair and dragged him up again.

  ‘So I think you probably get the picture,’ Kammler purred. ‘We have a newly arrived shipment of uranium in the lab. A shipment that you clever people seem to have rigged with some kind of explosive device. But as you see, I am infinitely smarter and, for what it is worth, far more ruthless.’

  With that, he raised one leg and kicked Ruth between the shoulder blades. Even from a distance, Jaeger heard the scream of pain as she keeled forward. Steve Jones reached down one massive beefy arm, grabbed a twist of her hair and dragged her viciously back into the kneeling position.

  Jaeger felt as if he could howl with rage. He was burning up with it. His fingers clenched into an iron fist, the nails drawing blood from his palm. ‘Fuck you, Kammler,’ he snarled.

  Kammler laughed. ‘Oh, I don’t think so . . . Now, this is what we’re going to do. You will explain the detonating mechanism and how we disable it. You see, we are a little concerned it may be pressure-activated: we remove a bar of uranium, it goes bang.’ He paused. ‘You are going to show yourselves, drop your weapons and come down to join us. Together we will defuse your bomb.’

  Jaeger didn’t answer.

  ‘I am asking nicely, but in truth it isn’t a request,’ Kammler continued. ‘Do what I say, or Peter Miles dies. And shortly after that, your beloved wife. But I think ever so slowly . . .’

  Jaeger covered the Iridium. He eyed Raff and Alonzo, a sudden clarity burning in his eyes. ‘He’s a bloody madman. But we know more about his plans than he suspects, and he knows less about ours than he believes. Which means we can play him.’

  He looked at each of them in turn. ‘Here’s what we do: we act as if agreeing to his demands. But you two – you go blow the pipelines. They go bang, it’s utter chaos down there. On the back of that, we fight our way in. You two take the desalination plant, we take the accom block. Once we’re clear, we combine forces to hit the lab.’

  ‘What about Miles and Ruth?’ Raff queried.

  Jaeger gritted his teeth. ‘They’ll have to take their chances. In all the confusion, we have to hope they break free. What other option is there? Blowing the pipeline – it’s the one thing he’ll never expect.’

  One by one the others nodded their silent assent.

  Jaeger spoke into the handset. ‘I hear you, Kammler. We’ll come down and defuse it, but once we’ve done so, we walk out of there with my wife and Miles. Do we have a deal?’

  ‘Agreed. Come on down to join us.’

  ‘We’re coming. Front entrance,’ Jaeger confirmed.

  He killed the call and glanced at Raff and Alonzo. ‘Mission’s on. Head for the pipelines. Pronto. And good luck.’

  Alonzo and Raff grabbed their weapons and their daysacks.

  ‘See you in paradise,’ Alonzo muttered as he crawled out of the OP.

  Jaeger smiled. ‘Have me a beer ready when you get there.’

  With that, they were gone.

  Jaeger stuffed extra grenades and magazines into his own daysack, turfing out anything he didn’t need. He paused at the Thuraya, undecided whether to take it or not.

  It gave them comms with Brooks, which was important. It also gave them the means to detonate the tungsten device, though he wasn’t about to do that any time soon. If he did, he’d kill two of the people closest to his heart.

  On balance, he decided to take it. He didn’t want anyone else – Narov, for instance – on that trigger.

  He heard Raff’s voice crackling in his SELEX earpiece: ‘One-minute countdown, boss.’

  ‘One,’ he confirmed back.

  They were sixty seconds and counting.

  70

  Jaeger and Narov emerged from the bunker into the full glare of the mid-morning light. By their reckoning they were fifty seconds short of the detonation. They walked forward until they were silhouetted on the ridgeline where Kammler could see them.

  As they began to move downslope, Jaeger felt the Iridium vibrate. He answered.

  ‘Nice to see you, Mr Jaeger,’ Kammler announced. ‘And you, Ms Narov. I have heard so much about you, of course. Now, if you would leave your weapons there and keep your hands where we can see them . . . But you are four. Where are your two friends?’

  ‘Just getting their shit together. They’ll be—’

  Jaeger’s words were cut short as a massive concussion rang out along the ridgeline, seeming to shake the entire hillside. He turned to see debris hurled high into the air, as a pall of grey smoke fisted skywards above the pipelines. An ear-splitting roar swept down the valley like a gigantic express train thundering through a long and ghostly tunnel.

  The noise seemed to bore into Jaeger’s head, even as the torrent of water foamed down the mountainside like a tidal wave on steroids. The leading edge of the flood plummeted with such force that it tore boulders from the hillside, hurling them high into the air, so that they landed in a shower of sparks. Second by second, the churning head of the tsunami thrust a boiling mass of rocks, trees and mud ever closer to the plant.

  Jaeger and Narov started to run, slipping and sliding downslope. Below them, the unstoppable surge hammered into the plant’s defensive perimeter. The high-tensile fencing buckled and broke, as if it was straw caught in a monster hailstorm. Coils of razor wire crashed down. Massive boulders slammed into the concrete fence posts, which broke with a series of deafening cracks.

  The first of the buildings to be hit was the generator hall, which lay directly below the ruptured pipelines’ triple barrels. Within seconds, water-driven rocks and debris hammered into its rear like a volley of cannon fire. As the cascade carved an ever deeper path, so the flow grew in power, ripping doors from hinges and punching in windows.

  Boiling water thick with debris surged inside the generator hall, bringing with it a thick sludge of mud, gravel and shredded tree branches. The flood engulfed the first of the massive turbines, short-circuiting the electrics in a cloud of roiling steam shot through with angry sparks.

  The tsunami thundered onwards, the roar from the ruptured pipelines reverberating across the valley. It swamped the accommodation block and hydrolysis plant. Scores of local workers turned and fled. They had one aim only: to save themselves.

  The only building that escaped the devastation was the laboratory, tucked into cover and set a little higher up the valley. But as the surge engulfed the last of the generators, the lights flickered out. All of the machinery – including Professor Kangjon’s 3D printers, which had been diligently constructing the components for the final clutch of INDs – ground to a halt.

  In the high-security end of the lab, Professor Kangjon crawled out from under a table where he’d taken shelter. He groped for a light switch. His fingers found it and flicked it several times, but nothing happened.