Knee deep in snow by the banks of the Lozvy River, Boris Slopsov pulled the hood up

over his head and tied the flaps of his hat down tightly below his chin.

It was all he could do to stop the incessant pelting of his face by the flecks of snow

being whipped up relentlessly by the wind.

In the distance he can hear the repetitive dull chop of helicopter blades.

The sound gets closer and closer until eventually the olive green MI4 finally comes into view.

Squinting now into the sun he watches as it makes a slow lumbering turn across the sky

before settling over the Lozvy and forging a path straight towards him.

But then, just as it's about to fly above his head, it makes a sharp bank to the right.

Boris is close enough to see the co-pilot wave before throwing something out of the cockpit.

Boris watches as the object drops from the sky.

Its red ribbon flapping manically as it falls before nestling in the snow meters away from

Boris's feet.

The hurries over and pulls the canister free, unscrewing the cap to find a message for

his team lodged inside.

It tells them to head towards the Auspia River, roughly three kilometers to the south.

It is Wednesday, February the 25th.

Exactly four weeks since Yuri Yudin was forced to abandon Igor Diatlov and the eight other

friends he had been accompanying as part of an expedition towards Otauton Mountain in

the Russian Urals.

It had been a painful decision for Yuri, but one perhaps not quite as painful as the crippling

effects of rheumatism that had plagued him throughout the journey and in the end left

...