Free Kidnapped and a Daring Escape by Gian Bordin

this several times.
         As they ascend the switchbacks, he prepares himself mentally and
physically for the jump. He begins to breathe deeply and regularly and
rolls his shoulders to loosen them up. He opens the rain jacket, so that he
can stretch it out like wings. That will create more resistance and cushion
his descent. He knows the jump is not without risks. In cliff jumping
there is always the safety net of the parachute. Released too early, the
worst that can happen is to end up getting snagged in trees half way down
the jump. This time, he has to rely exclusively on his gliding skills, nor
will he have the leisure to judge the leap before he jumps. He will only
have a second or so to assess distance and angle. The added risk, the
increased challenge and the always underlying fear combine into a heady
mixture, like he has not experiences for ages.
         Maybe he should do something to give himself a bit more time, divert
the attention of ‘ le second ’ walking behind him. But what? Like a light
being switched on in his mind, he remembers that in the restaurant he
stuffed the change, two twenty thousand peso notes — worth twenty US
dollar — into the little coin pocket below his belt. They are still there. If
he drops them at the right moment, the guy is bound to pick them up.
That will add a couple of seconds more time.
         They pass the small slip fifty meters from the top. There is the bush.
It is much larger from close up. The slight bend where the path veers
away from the cliff must be coming up. That’s the place he figured the
ledge should be visible some ten meters to the right and a bit farther
down. He walks closer to the outside edge of the track. The ledge should
become visible. It is not. After three more steps, it appears. He quickly
assesses the best angle of the leap, drops the peso notes one at time, and
turns halfway around a step later, searching the ground. ‘ Le second ’ spots
the notes too. André’s moment has arrived. When he sees the guy bend
down to pick them up, he firmly grabs the front bottom of his jacket,
while bursting forward three steps along the cliff edge, takes a deep
breath, and launches himself horizontally to the right toward the ledge,
his outstretched arms opening the jacket like the sail of a hang glider.
     
     
    4
    A scream of terror snaps Bianca from her drug-induced nightmare. For
a moment she is disoriented, does not know where she is, what is going
on, except that the scream makes her skin crawl. She is standing on a
height that overlooks peaceful river flats, flanked on her side by
treacherous slopes, while on the other side forested hills and bare
mountaintops extend as far as the eye can see. Two men in army
camouflage are shouting and gesticulating at the edge of what looks like
a cliff. She goes closer and asks in Italian: "What happened?"
         Both men shoot around, one pointing an AK47 at her, shouting: "Stay
where you are." Their faces leave little doubt that they are upset and very
angry.
         She freezes, frightened. Slowly her mind reclaims memories. She
came to Colombia with a University study tour group. Franco, her fiancé
is their leader. She flew to Pitalito with two fellow students and another
man she only met the evening before. What’s his name again? — ah, yes,
André. He joined her visiting the archaeological site of San Agustin. A
sudden shiver passes down her spine and fright swamps her like a
crashing wave. They were kidnapped and then driven around for hours.
André said that the ransom could be four million euros. But where is he?
         One of the two men continues looking down the precipice, as if he
were searching for something, while the other watches her.
         She plucks up all her courage and asks in Spanish: "Where is the man
who was with me?"
         The fellow watching her does not respond. The other turns and shouts:
"He jumped off the cliff, and took Rinaldo with him, the