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ve to blow the thing out from under him with explosives that would wreck the entire building if he could make it。
He judged the distance and then took off； going for a high jump； landing in a heap on top of the recessed safe as the fire from below removed the floor he had just left； and continued to stitch holes in what remained of the gallery。
He saw that he was now almost directly opposite the big circular window which looked down on the vehicle park。 He took a few deep breaths； unbuckled the belt Q had given him； feeling for the safety catch and moving it to the off setting； twisting the belt around his right wrist
Lifting his arm； he aimed at what appeared to be solid stone on the far edge of the rotunda； high above。 He took a deep breath； counted to three and pressed the firing mechanism on the buckle。
The belt bucked in his hand as the pine shot out； trailing its high tensile cord。 It was over in a flash； but Bond felt it was all happening in slow motion as he held his breath； praying that the tiny piton would hold。
It hit the base of the rotunda with a solid thwack； and one quick pull on the belt told him that it was buried firm and deep into the stone。
Another intake of breath； and Bond took up the slack； then launched himself from the top of the safe； swinging in a wide arc； right across the gallery； straight towards the circular window。
He was aware of the strain on the belt and his arm； of the air cleaving as he swept through it； and； for a second； the long drop down through the other galleries below。
He struck the window in the centre； feet first； letting go of the belt and lifting his hands to cover up his face。
Then came the shattering crash as the window caved outwards and James Bond smashed through it； dropping over forty feet to the hard ground。 As he went down； he thought of the many good things he had experienced in his life and the last face which crossed the screen of his mind was that of Natalya Simonova。 Sadly； in a split second； he thought she might have been the best thing of all。 Now he felt as insignificant as a tiny speck of dust floating through sunlight。
It was probably one of the heaviest bets Bond had ever wagered。
When he had stood by the big circular window after they had entered the top gallery of the archives； he had seen； parked directly below him； a military truck with its tarp in place。 Nobody was in sight； so he worked out the odds on it having been moved as evens。 If it had been driven away during the chase around the gallery； it would be a hard landing bringing at the least serious injury： more probably； death。
A confirmed gambler； he had weighed the odds and； having seen no sign of life around the lorry； had bet on it being in place。 So； he came shooting out of the window in a shower of glass and； glancing down； saw he had won。
The truck was still in position。 It was not the softest landing he had ever made； but it was safe enough and the most difficult part but for a couple of bruises … was getting down from the top of the tarpaulin to ground level。
Once there； on the hard paved walkway surrounding the Military Intelligence Headquarters； he melted into the shadows； making his way across to the vehicle park。
&he knew At some point； he knew； the main gate would have to be opened and he would just have to take his chance。 He had very little ammunition left so it was a case of picking the right vehicle。
He softly moved up and down the lines； rejecting the small jeep…like scout cars； the APCs and the smaller BTU…152us with their open tops and room for some eight men。
There was movement ing from the main entrance； so he flattened himself against a cumbersome T55 tank； watching as Ourumov and one of the soldiers from the HO dragged Natalya towards a car and threw her roughly into the back。 Ourumov sounded furious and had a weapon in his hand。
Natalya was making a lot of noise as she was pulled to the unmarked black car。 She had already taken in the fact that Bond was not lying； crushed and broken； outside the building； so she clung to the hope that her new friend had somehow escaped and was already preparing a rescue。 By the time they manhandled her into the car nothing had happened and her optimism began to fade。
Over in in the vehicle park； Bond turned and found himself looking at the rear of the T55 tank。 He frowned and wondered； then made up his mind and moved。
Natalya could smell the sour； unwashed body of Ourumov； crammed next to her in the car。 The soldier drove； heading for the main gate with its barber's shop red and white poles。 They slowed for only the minimum amount of time it took for the guards at the gate to identify Ourumov； then … with the general shouting for the driver to move as fast as he could … they shot out of the gate； rubber burning as the car fishtailed； skidding into a left turn； building up speed as they ran parallel to the wall of the vehicle park。
When it happened； Ourumov jerked and actually cried out in dismay。
The wall on their left seemed to disintegrate and the prow of the powerful T55 lurched through the debris onto the road directly behind them。 It slewed from side to side； but still followed； at its flat out speed。
In the car there was a touch of terror in Ourumov's voice as he shouted to the driver to move it。 The fear which now came as a stench from the general was founded on an incident during the Afghanistan campaign when he had been in a tank； similar to the T55 that rumbled at their heels。 Ourumov's tank had taken a direct hit and the general was only one of two people to get out alive。 In his darker dreams he could still hear the screams ing from the rest of the crew as the metal coffin burst into flames。 He had shown a not unnatural fear of tanks from that time。
Bond had sighed with pleasure when he fitted himself into the driving seat of the T55 and switched on； pulling the small knob that controlled the starter； hearing the engine immediately rumble into life。 He looked around and saw there was a fuel gauge showing full； the rest of his quick course in tank driving was one of trial and error； testing the long metal lever controlling the gears and the thick control column which； he discovered； turned the machine somewhat violently； slowing the tracks on one side and speeding those on the other so that it staggered to left or right。 The brakes and accelerator were easy enough to find； and the only problem he faced there was that they were transposed from those of a normal car … brake pedal on a long stalk for the right foot and accelerator on the left。
He had no time to examine； let alone use； the array of electronics； but he did know that he could not drive the beast and fire the 100mm gun that sprouted some twenty…nine feet from the turret。 There was a machine gun in reach alongside the driver's seat。 He could not use that while Natalya was still in the car； so he concentrated on a straight chase。 With luck； if he could control the machine； he might just run Ourumov to earth … literally。
What he had not bargained for was the lack of vision throug