Read Online The Forever Engine by Frank Chadwick - Free Book Online

them,” Buller went on. “Rather the other way, I should think. Between Sir Edward’s staff and this department, a dozen men knew or could have known of Fargo and his story. Thomson, did Sir Edward ask you to consult on the Vickers lightning-cannon project?”
    “The what?” Thomson sputtered.
    “No, I didn’t think so,” Buller said with a nod. “ There were cases of sabotage, such as the Vickers workshop, which I think are also linked to this spy, whoever he is. You weren’t positioned to assist in those. No, I had already ruled you out. Damn you, Gordon. Why couldn’t you have been the bloody spy?”
    “Sorry, sir,” Gordon answered with a hint of sarcasm and Buller glanced up sharply at him.
    Buller played the blustering, gobbling British general, but there was clearly more to him than met the eye. Rossbank’s body was hardly cold, Buller had been head of Military Intelligence for probably twelve hours at the outside, and he was already up to speed on the leak and the most likely suspects. I wasn’t crazy about the guy, but that was impressive.
    “Carstairs, Burroughs, you are both dismissed,” he said.
    The two other officers barked “Sir!” in unison and stamped out of the office. Once the door closed behind them, Buller looked at us.
    “Well, that’s it, then. You three are the only ones in this whole business I can trust. Trust is perhaps too strong a word in your case, Fargo. Let’s just say I am certain you are not a spy for the Old Man. The same is true for you, Captain Gordon.”
    Buller moved the folder to the side and opened the one under it.
    “You are with the Northumberland Fusiliers, I see,” he said after a moment.
    “Sir.”
    “The First Battalion fought in Afghanistan eight years ago. You were a subaltern then, weren’t you?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Good opportunity for a young chap to show what he’s made of. But you stayed in England, exchanged places with a subaltern from the Second Battalion, lad named Collingwood.”
    Gordon shifted his weight from one leg to the other and frowned.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “He was killed in action, I see. Where was that?”
    I saw the color come to Gordon’s face. His ears burned cherry red. When he didn’t reply, Buller looked up at him. Gordon licked his lips before answering.
    “Kandahar, sir.”
    “Yes, that’s right. I missed that show. Down in Zululand, you know.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Then last year your second battalion rotated with the first, got overseas service at last. It’s seeing some lively action out on the Northwest Frontier. You exchanged out again, I see, with a captain named Winthrop. Is he still alive?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Lucky chap,” Buller said.
    Gordon dropped his hands to his side and came to attention.
    “Will that be all, sir?”
    “No, damn you, it will not. I know the army is full of worthless young gentlemen who think soldiering is nothing more than hunting foxes in Yorkshire and gambling away their father’s money in London. They exchange out with poorer officers whenever their battalion ships overseas. The poor ones can’t afford the mess dues back in England and so go on campaign, seduced by the prospect of prize money. They end up doing all the bleeding and damn the army for still allowing it. But you, Gordon! You had your chance to prove yourself yesterday, and you ran.”
    “I went for help!” Gordon protested.
    “ Went for help? You ran into the others outside the door and so had to turn around and come back. Otherwise like as not you’d have kept running all the way to Horse Guards.”
    “If you believe that—”
    “ Shut up, damn you! ” Buller roared, his searing rage no longer a pretense. Sweat broke out on Gordon’s forehead and he seemed to wilt in the furnace of the general’s contempt.
    “I won’t say what I believe,” Buller resumed after a moment. “If I did, I might have no choice but to give you a revolver and some privacy. I can’t afford that. Much as I loathe the