johngardner.goldeneye-第2部分

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　over　the　lake；　it　began　to　line　up　with　the　centre　of　the　dam。
　
　Pressed　against　the　wall；　he　clearly　heard　the　guards'　voices　and　the　scrape　as　a　chair　was　pushed　back。
　
　Once　more　he　leaned　towards　the　window。　　One　of　the　men　was　opening　the　door　on　the　dam　side　and　walking　out　into　the　steel　enclosure；　the　other　soldier　still　sat　at　the　table；　his　entire　concentration　on　the　chess　board。
　
　Listening　for　the　aircraft's　approach；　Bond　removed　the　automatic　pistol　from　its　holster　and　edged　towards　the　door。　　As　he　passed　the　window　he　could　see　that　the　guard　outside　was　shielding　his　eyes；　looking　upwards。
　
　In　one　fluid　movement　he　opened　the　door；　stepped　inside　the　building　and　lifted　his　right　hand。　　The　man　puzzling　over　the　chess　board　was　so　engrossed　that　his　reactions　were　considerably　slowed。　　He　turned；　looked　blankly　at　Bond　as　though　he　were　someone　from　another　planet；　then　began　to　push　his　chair　back；　his　face　a　mixture　of　surprise；　fear；　and　disbelief。　　The　automatic　made　little　noise；　just　a　quiet　phut…phut。
　
　In　fact　the　metallic　click　of　the　mechanism　seemed　louder　than　the　actual　rounds　being　fired。　　Bond　winced　slightly　as　the　two　Glasers　blew　into　the　man's　chest；　right　over　the　heart；　the　pair　hitting　within　a　quarter　of　an　inch　of　each　other。　　Overkill；　Bond　thought　as　the　twin　odours　of　gunsmoke　and　blood　twitched　at　his　nostrils。　　His　lifetime　experience　taught　him　to　always　fire　two　rounds；　in　the　traditional　manner。　　With　Glasers　you　only　needed　one；　for　ninety　percent　of　victims　hit　by　this　round　ended　up　dead　within　seconds；　it　being　virtually　a　shotgun　cartridge；　the　No。　　12　shot　floating　in　liquid　Teflon　within　a　thin　cupronickel　jacket；　the　bullet　sealed　with　a　plastic　cap。　　It　was　the　sudden　outward　explosion　of　the　No。　　12　shot　once　the　bullet　entered　the　body　that　did　the　damage。
　
　The　dead　soldier's　chair　had　been　pushed　back；　almost　to　the　wall　by　the　impact。　　Now　the　body　slumped　to　one　side　and　fell　to　the　floor；　one　arm　flapping　against　the　chess　board；　scattering　the　pieces。
　
　The　spotter　aircraft　was　passing　overhead；　and　as　Bond　stepped　over　the　body　so　the　telephone　began　to　ring。
　
　Bond　hesitated；　a　fraction　too　long；　his　eyes　searching　for　the　ining　point。　　The　telephone　rang　five　times　before　he　reached　down　and　ripped　the　jack　from　the　socket。　　By　then　he　heard　the　other　guard　running　back　towards　the　building。　　He　could　hear　the　man's　boots　thudding　on　the　paving　and　could　imagine　him　unholstering　his　pistol。
　
　Definitely　not　officer　material；　Bond　murmured。　　The　man　was　just　rushing　back　without　even　making　a　tactical　appraisal　of　what　might；　or　might　not；　be　happening　inside　the　guard　post　　He　exploded　through　the　door；　the　little　Stechkin　automatic　waving；　almost　out　of　control；　in　his　hand。
　
　This　time；　Bond　fired　only　once。　　The　second　soldier　spun　to　the　left；　hit　the　wall　and　collapsed；　leaving　a　trail　of　smeared　blood　behind　him。　In　the　silence　that　followed；　two　of　the　chess　pieces　rolled　at　his　feet。
　
　Checkmate；'　Bond　muttered；　taking　stock　of　the　situation；　looking　specifically　for　the　control　to　the　gate　out　on　the　top　of　the　dam。
　
　The　big　metal　button　like　an　unpolished　silver　mushroom　was　set　into　the　wall　high　to　the　left　of　the　door；　just　where　they　said　it　would　be。　　He　glanced　at　his　watch；　seeing　there　was　not　much　time　left。
　
　If　all　had　gone　smoothly；　Alec　Trevelyan　would　be　in　place　waiting　for　him。　　The　plan　had　been　to　set　the　charge　and　get　out　while　the　bulk　of　the　Plant's　staff　were　on　their　one　hour's　mid…morning　break。
　
　He　unzipped　the　parka　and　began　to　unwind　the　cumbersome　thick　elasticised　rope　from　around　his　body；　curling　it　across　his　left　arm；　making　certain　that　the　entire　length　was　free　and　there　was　no　danger　of　it　getting　tangled。　　In　the　next　few　minutes　his　life　would　depend　on　the　strength　and　pliability　of　this　piece　of　equipment　which　he　coiled　so　that　the　strengthened　noose　was　in　his　left　hand　and　the　big　spring　clip　in　his　right。　　Reaching　up；　Bond　banged　the　big　button　which　controlled　the　outer　gate；　hitting　it　squarely　with　the　spring　clip。
　
　He　heard　the　whine　of　the　metal　from　the　far　end　of　the　cage；　looked　out　and　saw　that　the　way　onto　the　wide　top　of　the　dam　was　clear。　　Taking　a　deep　breath　he　began　to　sprint　forward。
　
　He　had　not　anticipated　the　stiff　breeze　blowing　off　the　lake；　but　the　top　of　the　dam　was　wide　enough；　and　there　was　no　question　of　doing　a　balancing　act　as　the　wind　whipped　around　him。　　There　were　strong　metal　guardrails　running　along　either　side；　so　Bond　had　no　worries　about　falling　off　and　hurtling　through　the　eight　hundred　feet　of　space　onto　the　rocks　below　…　even　though　this　was　basically　what　he　was　about　to　do。
　
　He　reached　the　centre　of　the　high　curved　structure；　glanced　down　and　felt　his　stomach　turn　over。　　In　the　short　period　they　had　been　given　to　prepare　for　Operation　Cowslip；　he　had　done　this　only　twice；　and　then　dropping　less　than　half　the　distance　he　was　about　to　attempt。
　
　You　only　got　one　chance　with　this　method；　and　there　were　no　things　like　reserve　parachutes　or　wrist　clamped　altimeters。
　
　Initially　he　had　suggested　absailing　down　the　face　of　the　dam；　but　quickly　realised　that　this　tried　and　true　method　would　leave　him　exposed　to　detection　for　longer　than　anyone　wanted　…　including　himself。
　
　He　banged　the　spring　clip　onto　one　of　the　metal　ii　guardrail　uprights；　and　gave　it　a　quick　pull；　quietly　hoping　the　iron　to　which　he　was　tethering　himself　was　bedded　firmly　into　the　top　of　the　dam　as　the　experts　claimed。
　
　Hardly　stopping　to　think　about　anything　else；　Bond　slid　his　right　foot　into　the　noose　at　the　other　end　of　the　bungee　cord　and　pulled　the　long　piton　gun　…　assembled　lovingly　by　Q's　people　…　from　its　special　holster　in　the　thigh　of　his　wet　suit。　　Ducking　under　the　rail；　he　glanced　back　to　be　certain　the　cord　was　free　of　any　obstruction；　and　could　not　get　tangled。　　Then；　expelling　his　breath　in　a　loud　whaaa　sound；　James　Bond　launched　himself　from　the　top　of　the　dam。
　
　This　was　nothing　like　free　fall　parachuting　because　you　did　not　have　the　fortable　knowledge　that；　when　the　moment　came；　there　was　a　〃chute　on　your　back。　　Bond's　stomach　was　still　up　on　top　of　the　dam　as　he　plunged　downwards。　　The　drop　seemed　endless。　　He　could　feel　his　body　moving　faster　and　even　felt　the　resistance　of　the　air　through　which　he　moved。　His　ears　sang　and　his　facial　muscles　ceased　to　be　of　any　value；　his　cheeks　forced　back　and　his　mouth　stretched　in　what　he　knew　was　a　kind　of　hideous　grin。
　
　As　he　plummeted　with　the　dam's　wall　only　a　foot　or　so　from　his　body；　he　pushed　the　piton　gun　forward；　his　hands　firmly　holding　its　twin　grips　which　eventually　would　be　his　way　to　safety。　　The　use　of　this　piece　of　equipment　had　to　be　timed　to　the　second。　　If　not；　the　bungee　cord　would　reach　its　maximum　length　and　he　would　be　sprung　back；　lifted　by　the　cord　then　falling　again　and；　in　all　probability；　smashed　into　the　hard　wall　of　the　dam。
　
　Struggling　against　the　pressure；　Bond　forced　himself　to　look　down　at　the　rocky　ground　hurtling　up　to　meet　him。
　
　He　relied　solely　on　instinct　to　judge　the　moment　to　fire　the　piton。　There　was　no　accurate　way　of　calculating　the　optimum　second；　and　he　knew　that　his　sense　of　selfpreservation　could　now　easily　override　accuracy。
　
　Then；　right　or　wrong；　the　moment　was　upon　him。　　He　clung　to　the　handles　of　the　piton　gun　as　he　pressed　the　trigger　and　felt　the　projectile　charge　thump；　the　tingling　of　the　small　explosion　running　up　his　arms。　The　barbed　arrow　that　was　the　piton　shot　down；　trailing　a　snake　of　around　a　hundred　feet　of　ultra　strong　climbing　rope　behind　it；　moving　with　a　speed　that　was　a　fraction　faster　than　Bond's　downward　momentum。
　
　The　piton　smashed　into　the　camouflaged　concrete　at　the　foot　of　the　dam　at　just　the　moment　that　the　bungee　cord　had　paid　out　its　normal　length；　but　with　around　two　hundred　feet　of　elastation　to　go。　　Bond　felt　the　pull　and；　for　a　second；　thought　his　arms　were　going　to　be　torn　from　their　sockets。　　The　muscles　of　both　arms　and　the　right　leg　screamed　pain　through　him；　and　he　wondered　if　this　had　been　the　kind　of　thing　men　first　felt　on　the　rack　in　those　days　of　intense　physical　torture。　　He　reached　forward　hand　over　hand；　beginning　to　haul　himself　downwards　to　the　bottom　of　the　dam；　his　face　contorted　with　agony　as　he　fought　against　the　pressure　from　the　bungee　cord　which　was　now　taut；　pulling；　trying　to　drag　him　back　up　the　dam　wall。
　
　Finally　Bond　reached　the　bottom；　strung　between　the　rope　and　the　thick　bungee　cord。　　Looking　down；　he　could　see　the　strain　on　the　piton　which　was　moving　slightly　in　the　concrete　in　which　it　was　embedded。
　
　If　the　piton　was　ripped　out　by　tension　on　the　bungee；　he　was　well　aware　of　what　could　happen：　he　would　be　catapulted　upwards；　against　the　side　of　the　wall。　　His　body　would　be　scraped　as　though　someone　held　him　against　a　huge　Black　&　Decker　sander。　　In　the　end　the　bungee　would　leap　into　the　air；　eight　hundred　feet　above；　and　what　was　left　of　him　would　be　thrown　down　onto　the　top　of　the　dam。
　
　Even　now；　he　felt　himself　being　torn　apart　by　the　bungee's　tension　and　the　anchored　rope　around　his　left　arm。
　
　He　reached　up　to　free　his　foot　from　the　loop　and　the　bungee　shot　back　up　the　dam　wall；　flying　upwards　like　a　long　fast…moving　snake。
　
　He　stood　for　a　moment；　orientating　himself；　then　moved　in　a　crouch　over　the　rocks；　zigzagging　between　them　to　reach　the　air　conditioning　pump　which　stood　like　a　grey　painted　drum　about　twenty　yards　away。　　The　grille；　next　to　the　pump；　had　been　opened　and　he　could　see　the　marks　where　Alec　Trevelyan　had　used　a　metal…cutting　instrument　on　the　big　padlock。　　As　he　pulled　the　grille　back；　Bond　found　himself　looking　into　a　dark　square　hole　with　the　top　elongated　D…shape　of　a　series　of　rungs　set　in　the　side　of　the　wall　below。
　
　Swinging　himself　into　the　darkness；　he　began　to　descend；　not　rushing　but　moving　slowly；　his　feet　feeling　out　the　rungs；　his　mind　focused　on　finding　the　bottom　of　this　black　well；　for　he　had　no　idea　how　far　this　maintenance　shaft　went　down。
　
　It　turned　out　to　be　a　long　haul；　for　the　wide　duct　seemed　to　go　down　forever。　　Th