A dark grey shape was descending from the cloud above the field. It was another helicopter but, unlike the mountain-rescue chopper, it had two rotor blades. Max instantly recognised it as a Chinook. He’d lost count of the number of YouTube videos he’d watched of this twin-engine, heavy-lift helicopter transporting military personnel in and out of battle zones in Afghanistan and Iraq. It was the fastest military helicopter, but it looked totally out of place here, in the middle of a sodden field in the Lake District.

‘That’s our lift,’ the man said. He looked down at Max’s arm. ‘I’m going to let you go,’ he said. ‘You realise that if you try to run, I’ll have you on the ground in about five seconds?’

Max jutted out his chin. But when the man let go, he didn’t try to escape.

‘Wise move,’ the man said. ‘Now come with me.’

They approached the Chinook from behind. The tailgate had lowered. The man jogged towards it. Max followed. As they ran into the helicopter, the stench of fuel hit Max’s nose. The interior glowed with artificial yellow light. The tailgate clamped shut behind them.

‘Sit there.’ The man pointed to a bench that ran along the right-hand side of the aircraft. Max dumped his rucksack at his feet and did as he was told. It was very uncomfortable, sitting in his wet clothes.

‘Strap yourself in.’

Max looked down at the straps. ‘How?’

‘What do I look like – cabin crew? Work it out, brainbox.’

It only took a moment to clip himself in. The man sat on a bench directly opposite him. Max felt the Chinook leave the ground. He’d never been in a helicopter before today. Now that momentary sensation of weightlessness was familiar. ‘Where are we going?’ he shouted over the noise.

But the man had leaned his head against the side of the chopper and closed his eyes. With his serious, lined, craggy face and his dark clothes, he looked like part of the furniture. As if he was more comfortable in the belly of this mechanical beast than anywhere else.

Max realised he was more scared now than he had been on the mountain. Where was he going? Who was he with? The police officers and paramedics hadn’t stopped this guy from taking him. But he’d seen a movie once in which the bad guys had been dressed up as police. Was this guy dressed up too?

The man opened his eyes and stared at Max. A slight frown crossed his forehead. It was the expression of a man who thought he recognised someone. ‘You abseiled down?’ he shouted.

Max nodded.

‘What type of abseil?’

‘Dülfersitz.’

The man gave a dismissive sneer. ‘South African abseil would have been better on a slope that steep.’ He closed his eyes again.

‘Right,’ Max muttered. ‘Sorry about that.’