Gerenko, stunned, had stalled the jeep and it wouldn’t start again. Now he got out, ordered Zek out, too. The helicopter had veered sharply away as the first explosion occurred; it circled, came down and landed with a bump on the road near the perimeter wall. Theo Dolgikh spoke briefly to the pilot, climbed out and advanced at a run. Zek Föener and Gerenko made their way staggeringly towards him.
‘For Alec,’ said Harry Keogh softly to himself.
He stood in the shadows at the foot of the perimeter wall and watched the three people moving towards the helicopter. He took note of the two men — one the mere husk of a man and the other a hulking brute — and the way they manhandled the girl into the chopper. Then the machine lifted off and Harry was alone with the night and his hideous handiwork. But like an after-image, a mental picture of those two men kept superimposing itself over the leaping flames. Harry didn’t know who they were, but his intuition told him that these two above all others ought not to have escaped the holocaust.
He’d have to speak to Carl Quint and Felix Krakovitch about them . .
Epilogue
Three days later Ivan Gerenko, Theo Dolgikh and Zek Föener stood on the scarred rim of the gorge in the Carpathians and gazed gloomily on a great mound of scree and rubble, where only the stumps of the ancient castle’s massive outer walls protruded. The scene was desolate as only these mountains can be, with jagged crests and peaks all around, an eerie wind moaning up off the plain, and birds of prey circling slowly in a sky ribboned with cloud. It was evening and the light was beginning to fade, but Gerenko had insisted upon seeing the site. There was nothing they could do tonight, but at least it would give him an idea of what must be done tomorrow.
Gerenko was here because Leonid Brezhnev had given him one week to come up with the answer — one all-inclusive answer — to the destruction of the Château Bronnitsy; Dolgikh because Yuri Andropov also required answers; Zek in order that Gerenko could keep an eye on her. She said she had lost her talent on the night of the as yet unexplained inferno — and worse, that all memory of what she’d learned from Alec Kyle had also been burned out of her — but Gerenko thought not. In which case he couldn’t be sure that if she were left on her own in Moscow she’d keep her mouth shut.
But most importantly, and if she were lying, she was here because she was the world’s foremost close-range telepath. If danger threatened from any source, Zek Föener would probably know it first; and so her actions would be Gerenko’s indicator that all was well — or otherwise. After what had happened at the Château one must look to one’s personal safety, and a mind such as Zek’s could well be of the utmost importance.
‘Nothing,’ she said now, frowning at the grey ruins, her forehead furrowed. ‘Nothing at all. But even if there were something here I couldn’t read it! Not now. I’ve told you, Ivan, my talent has been destroyed. It burned up in that great bonfire and now . . . I can’t even remember what it was like.’
She told a part-truth: her talent was intact, all right —she knew that from the seething cauldron of Gerenko’s mind, and the cesspool of Dolgikh’s — but she really couldn’t detect anything else. Only a Necroscope may talk to the dead or hear them talking to each other.
‘Nothing!’ Gerenko repeated her, his voice rasping. He kicked at the dirt and sent pebbles flying. ‘Then it’s a black day for us.’
‘For you, Comrade, perhaps,’ said Dolgikh, turning up the collar of his coat. ‘But you’re up against the Party Leader, who happens to have lost a lot. Andropov may not have gained anything, but he certainly hasn’t lost much. Not that he’ll notice, anyway. And there’s no point in him taking it out of my hide. As for E-Branch: he’s waged war with you espers for years, and now you’re finished. No skin off his nose. He won’t agonise over it, take my word.’