tc.redrabbit-第124部分

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ty　pissed；　but　at　least　it's　not　at　us；〃　Moore　reported　on　his　arrival　back　from　the　White　House。
　　　〃The　Brits　have　this　Strokov　guy　in　custody；〃　Greer　let　the　DCI　know。　Word　had　just　e　in　from　London。　〃Would　you　believe　Ryan's　the　guy　who　put　the　bag　on　him？　The　Brits　have　him　now　at　their　Rome　embassy。　Basil's　trying　to　decide　what　to　do　with　him。　Best　bet；　Strokov　ran　the　operation　and　enlisted　this　Turkish　thug　to　do　the　shooting。　The　Brits　say　they　caught　him　with　a　silenced　pistol　in　his　hand。　The　thinking　is　that　his　job　was　to　take　the　shooter　out；　like　that　Mafia　hit　in　New　York　a　while　back；　to　put　big…league　deniability　on　the　assassination　attempt。〃
　　　〃Your　boy　captured　him？〃　the　DCI　asked　in　some　surprise。
　　　〃He　was　there　with　a　team　of　experienced　British　field　spooks；　and　maybe　his　Marine　training　helped；〃　Ritter　allowed。　〃So；　James；　your　fair…haired　boy　gets　another　attaboy。〃
　　　Don't　bite　your　tongue　off　when　you　sign　the　Letter　of　mendation；　Robert；　Greer　managed　not　to　say。　〃Where　are　they　all　now？〃
　　　〃Halfway　home；　probably。　The　Air　Force　is　flying　them　over；〃　Ritter　told　them。　〃ETA　at　Andrews　is　about　eleven…forty；　they　told　me。〃
　　　There　were　windows　in　the　front　office；　Ryan　found　out；　and　the　flight　crew　was　friendly　enough。　He　was　even　able　to　talk　a　little　about　baseball。　The　Orioles　had　just　one　more　game　to　win　to　finish　the　Phillies　off；　he　was　pleased　and　surprised　to　learn。　The　flight　crew　didn't　even　hint　at　asking　why　they　were　driving　him　back　to　America。　They'd　done　it　too　many　times　and；　besides；　they　never　got　good　answers　anyway。　Aft；　the　Rabbit　Family　was　sound　asleep；　a　feat　Ryan　had　not　yet　managed　to　acplish。
　　　〃How　long？〃　he　asked　the　pilot。
　　　〃Well；　that's　Labrador　there。〃　He　pointed。　〃Call　it　three　hours　more；　and　we'll　be　feet…dry　almost　all　the　way。　Why　don't　you　get　some　sleep；　sir？〃
　　　〃I　don't　sleep　in　the　air；〃　Jack　admitted。
　　　〃Don't　feel　too　bad；　sir。　Neither　do　we；〃　the　copilot　told　him。　And　that　was　good　news；　on　reflection；　Jack　thought。
　　　Sir　Basil　Charleston　was　having　his　own　meeting　with　his　Chief　of　Government　at　the　moment。　Neither　in　America　nor　in　the　U。K。　did　reporters　write　stories　about　when　and　why　the　chiefs　of　the　various　intelligence　services　met　with　their　political　masters。
　　　〃So；　tell　me　about　this　Strokov　fellow；〃　she　ordered。
　　　〃Not　a　very　pleasant　chap；〃　C　replied。　〃We　reckon　he　was　there　to　kill　the　actual　shooter。　He　had　a　suppressed　weapon　to　eliminate　the　noise。　So；　it　would　appear　that　the　idea　was　to　kill　His　Holiness　and　leave　a　dead　assassin　behind。　Dead　men　still　tell　no　tales；　you　see；　Prime　Minister。　But　perhaps　this　one　will；　after　all。　The　Italian　police　must　be　chatting　with　him　right　now；　I　would　imagine。　He　is　a　Turkish　national；　and　I'll　wager　he　had　a　criminal　record；　and/or　experience　in　smuggling　things　into　Bulgaria。〃
　　　〃So；　it　was　the　Russians　who　were　behind　this？〃　she　asked。
　　　〃Yes；　ma'am。　That　seems　virtually　certain。　Tom　Sharp　is　talking　to　Strokov　in　Rome。　We'll　see　how　loyal　he　is　to　his　masters。〃
　　　〃What　will　we　do　with　him？〃　the　PM　asked。　The　answer　was　in　the　form　of　another　question　that　she　would　have　to　answer。　She　did。
　　　It　did　not　occur　to　Strokov　that　when　Sharp　invoked　the　names　of　Aleksey　Nikolay'ch　Rozhdestvenskiy　and　Ilya　Fedorovich　Bubovoy；　his　own　fate　was　sealed。　He　was　merely　dumbfounded　that　the　British　Secret　Intelligence　Service　had　the　KGB　so　thoroughly　penetrated。　Sharp　saw　no　reason　to　disabuse　him　of　that　notion。　Shocked　beyond　his　capacity　to　react　intelligently；　Strokov　forgot　all　of　his　training　and　started　singing。　His　duet　with　Sharp　lasted　two　and　a　half　hours；　all　of　it　on　tape。
　　　Ryan　was　more　on　autopilot　than　the　Boeing　was　before　it　touched　down　at　Runway　Zero…One　Right　at　Andrews　Air　Force　Base。　He'd　been　on　the　go　for　what？　Twenty…two　hours？　Something　like　that。　Something　more　easily　done　as　a　Marine　second　lieutenant　（age　twenty…two）　than　as　a　married　father　of　two　（age　thirty　…two）　who'd　had　a　fairly　stressful　day。　He　was　also　feeling　his　liquor　somewhat。
　　　There　were　two　cars　waiting　at　the　bottom　of　the　steps…Andrews　had　yet　to　install　a　jetway。　He　and　Zaitzev　took　the　first。　Mrs。　Rabbit　and　the　Bunny　took　the　second。　Two　minutes　after　that；　they　were　on　Suitland　Parkway；　heading　into　D。C。　Ryan　drew　the　task　of　explaining　what　they　were　passing　along　the　way。　Unlike　his　arrival　in　England；　Zaitzev　was　not　under　the　impression　that　this　might　be　a　maskirovka。　And　the　detour　past　the　Capitol　Building　ended　whatever　lingering　suspicions　he　might　have　had。　George　Lucas　on　his　best　day　could　not　have　faked　this　scenery。　The　cars　crossed　the　Potomac　and　went　north　of　the　George　Washington　Parkway；　finally　taking　the　marked　exit　to　Langley。
　　　〃So；　this　is　the　home　of　the　Main　Enemy；〃　the　Rabbit　said。
　　　〃I　just　think　of　it　as　the　place　I　used　to　work。〃
　　　〃Used　to？〃
　　　〃Didn't　you　know？　I'm　stationed　back　in　England　now；〃　Jack　told　him。
　　　The　whole　debriefing　team　was　under　the　canopy　by　the　main　entrance。　Ryan　knew　only　one　of　them；　Mark　Radner；　a　Russian　scholar　from　Dartmouth　who　got　called　down　for　some　special　work…one　of　the　people　who　liked　working　for　CIA；　but　not　full…time。　Ryan　was　now　able　to　understand　that。　When　the　car　stopped；　he　got　out　first　and　went　to　James　Greer。
　　　〃You've　had　a　busy　couple　of　days；　my　boy。〃
　　　〃Tell　me　about　it；　Admiral。〃
　　　〃How　was　it　in　Rome？〃
　　　〃First；　tell　me　about　the　Pope；〃　Jack　shot　back。
　　　〃He　came　through　surgery　okay。　He's　critical；　but　we　asked　Charlie　Weathers　up　at　Harvard　about　that；　and　he　said　not　to　worry。　People　that　age　who　e　through　surgery　are　always　classified　as　being　in　critical　condition…probably　just　a　way　to　drive　the　bill　up。　Unless　something　unusual　crops　up；　he'll　probably　be　fine。　Charlie　says　they　grow　good　cutters　in　Rome。　His　Holiness　ought　to　be　home　in　three　to　four　weeks；　Charlie　says。　They　won't　rush　it　with　a　guy　his　age。〃
　　　〃Thank　God。　Sir；　when　I　had　that　Strokov　bastard　I　thought　we'd　done　it；　y'know？　Then　when　I　heard　the　shots…Jesus；　what　a　moment　that　was；　Admiral。〃
　　　Greer　nodded。　〃I　can　imagine。　But　the　good　guys　won　this　one。　Oh；　your　Orioles　took　the　series　from　Philly。　Game　just　ended　twenty　minutes　ago。　That　new　shortstop　you　have；　Ripken；　looks　to　me　like　he's　going　places。〃
　　　〃Ryan。〃　Judge　Moore　came　over　next。　〃Well　done；　son。〃　Another　handshake。
　　　〃Thank　you；　Director。〃
　　　〃Nice　going；　Ryan；〃　Ritter　said　next。　〃Sure　you　wouldn't　like　to　try　our　training　course　at　the　Farm？〃　The　handshake　was　surprisingly　cordial。　Ritter　must　have　had　a　drink　or　two　in　the　office；　Jack　surmised。
　　　〃Sir；　right　now；　I'd　be　just　as　happy　to　go　back　to　teaching　history。〃
　　　〃It's　more　fun　to　make　it；　boy。　Remember　that。〃
　　　The　party　moved　inside；　past　the　memorial　on　the　right…side　wall　to　the　dead　officers；　many　of　whose　names　were　still　secret；　then　left　to　the　executive　elevator。　The　Rabbit　family　went　its　own　way。　There　were　hotel…like　acmodations　for　VIP　visitors　and　back…from…overseas　field　officers　on　the　sixth　floor；　and　evidently　the　CIA　was　bedding　them　down　there。　Jack　followed　the　senior　executives　to　the　Judge's　office。
　　　〃How　good　is　our　new　Rabbit？〃　Moore　asked。
　　　〃Well；　sure　as　hell　he　gave　us　good　information　on　the　Pope；　Judge；〃　Ryan　answered　in　considerable　surprise。　〃And　the　Brits　sound　pretty　happy　with　what　he's　told　them　about　that　Agent　MINISTER。　I'm　kinda　curious　who　this　CASSIUS　guy　is。〃
　　　〃And　NEPTUNE；〃　Greer　added。　The　Navy　needed　secure　munications　to　survive　in　the　modern　world；　and　James　Greer　still　had　blue　suits　in　his　closet。
　　　〃Any　other　thoughts？〃　This　was　Moore　again。
　　　〃Has　anyone　thought　about　how　desperate　the　Russians　are？　I　mean；　sure；　the　Pope　was…I　guess　he　still　is…a　political　threat　of　some　sort　to　them；　but；　damn　it；　this　was　not　a　rational　operation；　was　it？〃　Jack　asked。　〃Looks　to　me　as　though　they're　a　lot　more　desperate　than　we　usually　think。　We　ought　to　be　able　to　exploit　that。〃　The　mixture　of　alcohol　and　fatigue　made　it　easier　than　usual　for　Ryan　to　speak　his　mind；　and　he'd　been　chewing　on　this　idea　for　about　twelve　hours。
　　　〃How？〃　Ritter　asked；　reminding　himself　that　Ryan　was　something　of　a　whiz　at　economics。
　　　〃I'll　tell　you　one　thing　for　sure：　The　Catholic　Church　is　not　going　to　be　very　happy。　Lots　of　Catholics　in　Eastern　Europe；　guys。　That　is　a　capability　we　need　to　think　about　using。　If　we　approach　the　Church　intelligently；　they　might　just　cooperate　with　us。　The　Church　is　big　on　forgiveness；　sure；　but　you're　supposed　to　go　to　confession　first。〃
　　　Moore　raised　an　eyebrow。
　　　〃The　other　thing　is；　I've　been　studying　their　economy。　It's　very　shaky；　a　lot　more　than　our　people　think　it　is；　Admiral；〃　Jack　said；　turning　to　his　immediate　boss。
　　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　　　〃Sir；　the　stuff　our　guys　are　looking　at；　it's　the　official　economics　reports　that　e　into　Moscow；　right？〃
　　　〃We　work　pretty　hard　to　get　it；　too；〃　Moore　confirmed。
　　　〃Director；　why　do　we　think　it's　true？〃　Ryan　asked。　〃Just　because　the　Politburo　gets　it？　We　know　they　lie　to　us；　and　they　lie　to　their　own　people。　What　if　they　lie　to　themselves？　If　I　were　an　examiner　for　the　SEC；　I　think　I　could　put　a　whole　lot　of　guys　in　Allenwood　Federal　Prison。　What　they　say　they　have　doesn't　jibe　with　what　we　can　identify　them　as　actually　having。　Their　economy　is　teetering；　and　if　that　goes　bad；　even　a　little　bit；　the　whole　shebang　es　down。〃
　　　〃How　could　we　exploit　that？〃　Ritter　asked。　His　own　blue…team　analysis　had　said　something　very　similar　four　days　earlier；　but　even　Judge　Moore　didn't　know　that。
　　　〃Where　do　they　get　their　hard　currency…I　mean；　what　do　they　get　it　from？〃
　　　〃Oil。〃　Greer　answered　the　question。　The　Russians　exported　as　much　oil　as　the　Saudis。
　　　〃And　who　controls　the　world　price　of　oil？〃
　　　〃OPEC？〃
　　　〃And　who；〃　Ryan　went　on；　〃controls　OPEC？〃
　　　〃The　Saudis。〃
　　　〃Aren't　they　our　friends？〃　Jack　concluded。　〃Look　at　the　USSR　as　a　takeover　target；　like　we　did　at　Merrill　Lynch。　The　assets　are　worth　a　lot　more　than　the　parent　corporation；　because　it's　so　badly　run。　This　isn't　hard　stuff　to　figure　out。〃　Even　by　a　guy　exhausted　by　a　long　day；　five　thousand　miles　of　air　travel；　and　a　little　too　much　booze；　he　didn't　add。　There　were　a　lot