They went through a wide-open weather door at the top, into a tearing wind and the bitter, slashing rainstorm that was still raging, more so now than ever. Along the whole structure above the parapet, ran the string of floodlights that they had seen on their way in from the ambush; beneath those lights they could see a figure running wildly ahead of them, going at breakneck speed. A moment later, Treece seemed to check, and then he stopped. He ducked as Shaw fired, and something, some chunk of rock or loose concrete, crashed by Shaw’s feet. Taking this in his stride, Shaw ran on. Then something else came through the air and took him on the hip. He staggered and almost fell, lurched for a moment against the parapet. He heard far below him the tremendous roar of the released floodwater, surging and crashing through the open sluices, millions upon millions of tons pouring down into the Chalok Valley, ready to take up their old watercourse again. Recovering, he raced on again, feeling the wind tearing at his body. He saw Treece, who was on the move again now, glance momentarily back over his shoulder as though gauging the distance.
It was that backward glance when going at full speed that did it.
Treece stumbled; he went flying sideways, half carried by the wind. He fell across the low parapet itself. Somehow in his struggles to get back to safety his body rolled to the far side — and he slid right over, on to the slope running down above the sluice gates. A cry rang out into the slashing rain, a cry of desperation, of sheer horror. Shaw, checking his speed, looked over. He felt suddenly sick. The lip of the steep downward slope was right over the roaring torrent and the rocky projections of the narrow gorge. Spray was flying high, right up and over the lip, spray and foam and spume driven by the wind which caught it as it was tossed upward by the rebound of the crashing drop through the sluices. Treece was sliding down, slowly but quite inexorably, scrabbling in torment with clawed hands, tearing at the cruel, jagged, concrete surface, his mouth wide open, sobbing, shrieking… helpless and knowing it and terrified to die on the Chalok Dam.
It took him fifteen seconds to slide down, to disappear.
At the end of those fifteen seconds, he gave a wild cry that rang against the wind; his body arched backwards as the wind took it, and he hurtled over, falling, falling out of sight… crashing into the surge and thunder of the fuming waters that boiled and roared in an ecstasy of freedom so far below.
Shaw found Virginia beside him. She was looking all in and very sick, and he put an arm round her and held her close. “It’s horrible, but it’s the best way out,” he said. “There wasn’t any future for Treece. Besides, it’s going to be easier from the security standpoint now. I doubt if in fact he could have ever have been got back to Britain, and there wouldn’t have been any secrets left after the Russian’s had had a go at him. But now I may — just may — be able to hush up the truth. The full truth, that is, as it could affect East-West relations. Meanwhile someone’s got to close those sluices — and look for any explosive charges. As an engineer Treece’ll almost certainly have been thinking along those lines. Come on, Virginia.”
“What about the other two?” she asked. “Those two men?”
He shrugged. “My guess is they’ll cross into Mongolia and never be heard of again. Nothing we can do about them, anyway. Andreyev’ll be going through this place like a dose of salts once he’s back in circulation, but I think I can persuade him that it’d be best if he used his imagination in his report to headquarters — if you get me! That’s assuming Kosyenko hasn’t ticked over too quickly for us, of course.” She nodded, and they turned away along the flat top of the dam. They ran back towards the doorway while the floodwaters of the Chalok surged and crashed and leapt, carrying Treece’s broken body downstream rapidly towards the abounding wealth of the valley below.
A couple of days later, Shaw and Virginia were back in Moscow. The Embassy had put on the VIP treatment; and Sir Hubert Worth-Butters was an appalled but extremely interested listener. He said drily, “It’s a very curious state of affairs at home that allows a man like that to get where he did in the security services, Shaw. I wonder how many more there are like him at large!” He smiled. “Strange, isn’t it, you should have had those suspicions of dear old Henderson… and now it turns out like this! However, please don’t let me interrupt. You were saying?”
“I was asking, as a matter of fact—”
“Ah yes, yes — about Kosyenko.” Sir Hubert tapped on his desk, briskly, with a cigarette. Flicking a lighter he went on, “He must know the full score, or most of it, but he’s acting green. I dare say he sees the dangers of an international explosion as well as anyone — he’s no fool, I need hardly say! I think we can take it he won’t initiate any action leading to awkward questions — for one thing, if anything came out it would make the Russians look extremely silly, Kosyenko himself included, and they never like that. They won’t want the world to know we pulled their own chestnuts out of the fire for them, nor that there’s sabotage in the chummy little nest. It cancels out the kudos attaching to our man’s — er — curious loyalties, don’t you think? Of course,” he added, “the very fact that Treece handled everything with such professional discretion has played into our hands. Even the Press hasn’t got the truth — and I’d venture a guess that those of Treece’s persuasion who’re left alive will keep their mouths shut very, very tight indeed — including the man who was ditching the charges!” Sir Hubert chuckled. “Was that a simple case of wind up — or what?”
Shaw shrugged. “I think so, yes. He’d rung the control-room and got no answer — and panicked.”
“Most fortunate!” Sir Hubert chuckled again, then frowned. “Y’know… it’s that feller Andreyev I’m concerned about quite frankly. I gather he was somewhat annoyed when you picked him up back at that ambush scene?”
Shaw grinned. “Very! And brim-full of threats as to what was going to happen to us. To start with he told Virginia and me we were to consider ourselves under arrest — and it made no difference at all when I told him Kosyenko was safe as houses and he had nothing more to worry about. Anyway, I advised him not to press impossibilities too far, seeing we were armed and he wasn’t. I also told him that a highly-respected British officer, one Brigadier Treece temporarily attached to our Moscow Embassy, was at the moment lying dead somewhere in the Chalok valley… killed while trying to prevent subversive elements sabotaging the dam. I told him it had already discharged a modicum of water but not too much — thanks entirely to the efforts of Brigadier Treece. He was satisfied thereafter that there wouldn’t be much damage done in the valley, but he did undoubtedly hoist in the fact that he wasn’t going to look too clever in the circumstances… and also that the British Ambassador would certainly ask very awkward questions about poor Treece’s death, which really should never have been allowed to happen with Andreyev himself practically on the spot and in personal charge of security in the area during Kosyenko’s visit.” Shaw paused. “I put it to him straight, Sir Hubert, that I was offering him the chance of a deal. I might, I told him, be a fascist hyena, but he’d soon see that I was on the level — and also that he would do well to remember what I’d told him during the flight out from Bykovo. Well, I think — as you yourself just said about Kosyenko — Colonel Andreyev will find it much more convenient to forgive and forget…”
“Excellent!” Sir Hubert smiled. “You should have been a diplomat, my dear fellow. In view of what you say I shall advise H.E to remain silent about — er — poor Treece. Forgiveness and forgetfulness should be reciprocal. Oh, and by the way, I’ve got some other news. A little item that came through early this morning.” Sir Hubert looked abstracted for a moment. “Oddly enough, Jones decided to disappear while you were still in Kyakhta — after news had come through about Treece. Curious — don’t you think?”