Gerenko turned on him. ‘You fool! So you’ll return to simple thuggery, will you? And how far will that get you? You could have gone up in the world, Theo, with me. Right to the top. But now?’
At the back of the ruins in the heaped shale and fallen scree, something stirred. The rubble formed a small mound, cracked open, and foul gases filtered up into the evening air. A bloodied hand, that of a corpse, scrabbled for a moment until it found purchase in the rocks. The two men and the girl heard nothing.
Dolgikh scowled at the smaller man. ‘Comrade, I’m not sure I want to go anywhere with you,’ he said. ‘I prefer the company of men — and sometimes women.’ He glanced at Zek Föener and licked his lips. ‘But I warn you, be careful who you’re calling a fool. Head of E-Branch? You’re head of nothing now. Just another citizen, and a poor specimen at that.’
‘Idiot!’ Gerenko muttered, turning away from Dolgikh. ‘Dolt! Why, if you’d been at the Château that night I’d suspect you of being involved in that mess, too! You’re too bloody good at blowing things up, Theo!’
Dolgikh caught his slender arm, turned him about. Gerenko’s talent was alerted. . . but so far the KGB man intended no real harm. ‘Listen, you spindly thing,’ Dolgikh spat the words out. ‘You think you’re so high and mighty, but you forget that I’ve still got enough on you to put you away for the rest of your days!’
Back in the ruins, his movements covered by their arguing, Mikhail Volkonsky got to his knees and then dragged himself to his feet. He’d lost an arm and shoulder and most of his face, but the rest of him still worked. He shuffled awkwardly into the shadow of the cliff, drew closer to the three live ones.
‘But it’s mutual, Theo, it’s mutual!’ Gerenko mocked the KGB agent. ‘And it isn’t only you I can damage but your boss, too. How would Andropov fare if I let it out that he’d been trying to interfere with branch work again? And how would you fare after that? Overseer in a salt mine, that’s where you’d be, Theo!’
‘Why you runt!’ Dolgikh swelled up huge. He raised his fist . . . and a strange expectant something filled the air. However blunt his senses, Dolgikh felt it too. ‘Why, I could —‘
Gerenko faced him squarely. ‘But that’s just the point, Theo. You couldn’t! Neither you nor any other man. Try it and see for yourself. It’s waiting for you to try, Theo. Go on, strike me if you dare. You’ll be lucky if you merely miss, fall over in the stones and break your arm. But if you’re unlucky this wall could fall on you and crush you. Your superior physical strength? Pah! I . . .‘ He paused and the sneer fell from his face. ‘What was that?’
Dolgikh lowered his threatening hand, listened. There was only the keening of the wind. ‘I heard nothing,’ he said.
‘I did,’ said Zek Föener, shivering. ‘Rocks falling into the gorge. Come on, let’s get out of here. The shadows are lengthening, and that ledge back there was bad enough in full daylight. Why are you arguing, anyway? What’s done is done.’
‘Shh’ said Dolgikh, his eyes going wide. He leaned forward, pointing. ‘Now I hear it — from over there. Sliding shale, maybe . .
At the rim of the gorge, back along the track and hidden by the undergrowth, blunt grey fingers came up from the depths. Sergei Gulharov’s shattered head came up slowly and stiffly; then a shoulder, and an arm thrown far forward to take the strain and give him leverage. Silent as a shadow now, he drew himself up onto firm, flat ground.
‘The temperature is falling fast,’ said Gerenko with a shudder, perhaps feeling the chill. ‘I’ve had enough for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll take another look, and if it’s quite hopeless we can decide what to do then.’ Wheezing with the effort and gritting his small teeth, he started back down the trail. ‘But this is all a great pity. I had hoped to salvage something, if only a little face . .