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Shaw glanced at him. “What pill’s that?”

Treece gave a loud laugh. “He’s coming in with a lot of brand-new targets that have to be fulfilled. Production’s being stepped up very considerably, and the time element’s being cut down as regards the current programme, so they can start all the sooner on a fresh one, and another after that, world without end.”

“I see. Rather curious that Jones didn’t tell me all that, when I asked about Kosyenko’s visit.” Shaw frowned ahead through the streaming windscreen. “Any idea what’s behind it all?”

“Not really,” Treece admitted in a puzzled voice. “The politicians may have, but I doubt it, seeing we’ve had no reports about anything.” He cleaned his windscreen again; the weather was cutting down the speed of the motorcade now as they drove along a dead straight, rain-washed road that stretched ahead along the floor of the valley, with the high ground towering to left and right. There were signs that the heavy rain was already causing flooding; Kosyenko, late from the start, was going to be well adrift on his schedule. “Mind you,” Treece went on confidentially, “one can make a fair guess. It’s elementary, really. The Soviet’s getting just a shade worried about China, as we know. That’s the basis of the situation, in my opinion. We all know Russia’s a long way ahead technically, but, you see, they’ve got to maintain that lead at all costs — keep the differential well and truly in their favor. Another thing we all know is that China’s made very, very rapid strides since the late forties — and there’s absolutely nothing to say she won’t go ahead even faster in the future. In fact, my own view is that she would never have forced the split in the Communist camp if she hadn’t felt, shall we say, a certain confidence in herself and her future — in her own ability to shape that future very largely for herself.” He paused. “Damn this rain,” he muttered.

“It doesn’t seem to have let up since we first got to Kyakhta,” Virginia said from the back. “If the saturation round here’s anything to go by, Kosyenko’s in for wet feet.”

Treece said, “If that was all he appeared to be in for, none of us would be here, would we…”

They were past the great power-station now, and climbing along a road full of wicked hairpin bends; and away ahead, where high rock-faces formed a vast canyon, Shaw made out, as the rain temporarily eased, the enormous concrete structure of the Chalok Dam, silhouetted against a threatening sky-line that filled the already dreary day with a curious undefined menace. Shaw felt his skin creep. He was certain that the dam was the objective.

Suddenly, Treece said, “I wonder if Kosyenko’ll ever appreciate what we’re doing for him, sticking our necks out right inside his own country!” Then he added, “The dam is—” He broke off abruptly, swearing. Shaw sensed the stiffening of the thick, squat body. Treece gave an indistinct exclamation, followed by another oath.

“What is it?” Shaw asked.

Treece gave a backward jerk of the head and said tersely, “There’s a car, coming up fast behind… caught sight of it in the mirror. Looks like an MVD car.”

“But it could—”

“But it could, nothing! I — don’t — like it!” Shaw’s lips tightened and he swiveled, looking out past Virginia through the rear window. There was a car all right, a long way back still and far below them, rocketing dangerously along the climbing roadway, a good dozen bends behind.

Someone was in a hell of a hurry. “Andreyev?” Shaw asked. “I noticed he didn’t leave with Kosyenko. Maybe he felt the need of a roving commission today.”

Treece shook his head impatiently. “It won’t be Andreyev — unless he flew out to the police post in the factory area and got a car from there. Otherwise we’d have seen him a good way back, coming along the straight. Anyway, it doesn’t make much difference now who it is, does it?…”

Shaw said, “I think it does. They may not be after us at all—”

“I’m not waiting to find out—”

“—and if they are, anyone but Andreyev would have radioed Kosyenko’s escort to turn around and get us, if we’d been rumbled.”

“Why not Andreyev?” Treece snapped.

Shaw was alarmed now — Treece was panicking. He said, “I told you Brigadier, Andreyev has to have some answers from me before he sticks his neck out again. He won’t act till he’s made contact in person. I’m all for pressing on as part of the motorcade and chancing that car. I’ve a feeling it’s Andreyev right enough — and he’s relatively harmless now.”

“No,” Treece answered obstinately. “We’ll have to detour. Hide the car and scatter for a while—”

“And leave Kosyenko to it — fall down on the job?” Shaw’s eyes were scornful.

Treece snapped, “I told you, leave this to me! I know perfectly well what I’m doing. If I’m not mistaken there’s a left-hand fork a little farther on from here, it’s a poor road and never used these days, but it’s still a short cut to the vicinity of the dam. It was there in the pre-dam days, but I believe it’s been redundant for years. We can still reach the dam in good time once the heat’s off. If we—”

“Just how well d’you happen to know the country hereabouts, Brigadier Treece?”

Treece whitened. “As well as anyone of average intelligence who can follow a map. There — see for yourself.” He jerked a hand at the glove compartment.

He was peering ahead anxiously as he spoke, searching for the fork; and Shaw got the impression he did in fact know the terrain a damn sight better than he admitted. Only a matter of minutes later Treece seemed to find what he was looking for — a road off to the left which dipped fairly sharply into an extensive and thickly-wooded declivity before rising farther along. Treece gave a sound of relief as he pulled the car into the fork, and then crammed on speed while Kosyenko’s entourage and the Press cars went along the main highway for the dam.

Shaw was wondering what had got into Treece and what the man could possibly hope to achieve or avoid by uselessly detouring like this, when, some sixty seconds after leaving the highway, Treece slowed. A fraction of a second after he did so, they heard the sudden and totally unexpected stutter of an automatic weapon — it sounded like a sub-machine-gun — from ahead, and then they heard the zing of bullets plowing furrows along the bodywork of the car. Shaw shouted at Treece; to his utter amazement Treece was slowing even more, skidding the car to a grinding stop on the loose, sodden surface of the third-grade road. Shaw yelled, “For heaven’s sake, keep going!”

“Not on your life — we’re heading into concentrated fire!”

“But we can drive through and chance it — better than waiting to be mown down — and what about that police car you were so scared of, Treece?”

“We’ll talk our way out of that.”

“But—”

“Shut up!” Treece had stopped now and already had his door open. “We’ll have to scatter… get out, and into the trees.” By the time he had finished speaking he was out of the car himself and running for shelter. Another burst of fire raked along the wings as Shaw, his arm round Virginia, who had bundled out from the back, jumped for the other side of the road, and a third burst thudded into the trees close behind them. Shaw felt the wind of those bullets passing close to his head, and heard a sudden sharp cry from Virginia as they reached shelter and flattened themselves into the scrubby undergrowth, where he pulled out Tanya’s gun.