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d 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。 Though his eyes were gradually getting used to the blackness； Bond … for the first time in his life … started to experience a kind of vertigo； his senses stretched to the limit。 His muscles still ached and his mind felt detached from what he was actually doing。 Everything had happened so quickly that a part of him was still high ~ above the ground； plunging towards the rocks and cement； his hands on the rungs felt bruised and there was a musty damp smell in his nostrils。 It was an odor that became stronger the further he moved downward。
After what seemed to be ten or fifteen minutes and hundreds of metal rungs； his feet touched solid ground。
A floor？ Or was it a ledge from which he could easily fall into some bottomless pit？ By now he had ceased to trust his senses； and his mind became obsessed with heights。
Very slowly he adjusted to the blackness of his surroundings。 He appeared to be in some small chamber which he presumed was the access point to the maintenance shaft。 To his righ