What is it that makes people voluntarily choose arduous, grueling, and almost impossible tasks of climbing mountains? Is it the feeling of Euphoria at the end? The sense of achievement of triumphing over nature? Or is it some age-old, atavistic love of adventure? This book is the story of two attempts to 'summit' Everest by two men separated by centuries. One on a secret mission to plant a flag on the summit and the other, to find evidence if the secret mission was accomplished or not. During the world war, in 1939, Josef Becker, a Bavarian mountain climber is forced by the Nazi party to go on a secret mission and plant their flag. In 2010, Neill Quinn takes the responsibility of guiding a rich young climber to reach Everest Peak. An emergency occurs in the course of which Quinn finds some indications of a previously unknown attempt. The fascinating story moves between both eras building up to a death-defying climax. I guess personally this is the nearest I will ever get to climbing Everest. So I enjoyed every page believing it's happening to me! I shivered in the sub-zero temperatures, I stumbled along the icy valleys staying in flimsy tents, trying to boil the snow and make tea. I gasped for breath, with low oxygen levels, I fought with the enemy using an ice ax and I huddled inside the tent when storms raged around. I also saw the stunning aloof vistas of pure white virgin snow opening up before me. I heard the whispers of the ghosts of the climbers dead long ago. Fatigued by the climb, I sat at the summit, dumbly waiting for the sunrise. A book filled with adventure, action, revenge intrigue, and world war references. I only wish the length of the book could have shortened. A must-read for anyone who calls himself a book lover.