tc.thebearandthedragon-第59部分

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eads　had　prevailed　in　Rome…the　Italian　government　did　not　want　a　blood　feud　to　erupt　between　the　Mafia　and　its　own　federal　police　agency…and　Falcone　had　been　dispatched　to　Hereford　to　be　the　first　Italian　member　of　RAINBOW。　He　had　quickly　proven　himself　to　be　the　best　pistol　shot　anyone　had　ever　seen。
　〃Damn　John　Clark　breathed；　after　finishing　his　fifth　string　of　ten　shots。　This　guy　had　beaten　him　again！　They　called　him　Big　Bird。　Ettore…Hector…was　about　six…three　and　lean　like　a　basketball　player；　the　wrong　size　and　shape　for　a　counterterror　trooper；　but；　Jesus；　could　this　son　of　a　bitch　shoot！
　〃Grazie；　General；〃　the　Italian　said；　collecting　the　five…pound　note　that　had　acpanied　this　blood　feud。
　And　John　couldn't　even　bitch　that　he'd　done　it　for　real；　whereas　Big　Bird　had　only　done　it　with　paper。　This　spaghetti…eater　had　dropped　three　guys　armed　with　SMGs；　and　done　it　with　his　wife　and　kid　next　to　him。　Not　just　a　talented　shooter；　this　guy　had　two　big　brass　ones　dangling　between　his　legs。　And　his　wife；　Anna…Maria；　was　reputed　to　be　a　dazzling　cook。　In　any　case；　Falcone　had　bested　him　by　one　point　in　a　fifty…round　shootoff。　And　John　had　practiced　for　a　week　before　this　grudge　match。
　〃Ettore；　where　the　hell　did　you　learn　to　shoot？〃　RAINBOW　SIX　demanded。
　〃At　the　police　academy；　General　Clark。　I　never　fired　a　gun　before　that；　but　I　had　a　good　instructor；　and　I　learned　well；〃　the　sergeant　said；　with　a　friendly　smile。　He　wasn't　the　least　bit　arrogant　about　his　talent；　and　somehow　that　just　made　it　worse。
　〃Yeah；　I　suppose。〃　Clark　zippered　his　pistol　into　the　carrying　case　and　walked　away　from　the　firing　line。
　〃You；　too；　sir？〃　Dave　Woods；　the　rangemaster；　said；　as　Clark　made　for　the　door。
　〃So　I'm　not　the　only　one？〃　RAINBOW　SIX　asked。
　Woods　looked　up　from　his　sandwich。　〃Bloody　hell；　that　lad's　got　a　fookin'　letter　of　credit　at　the　Green　Dragon　from　besting　me！〃　he　announced。　And　Sergeant…Major　Woods　really　had　taught　Wyatt　Earp　everything　he　knew。　And　at　the　SAS/RAINBOW　pub　he'd　probably　taught　the　new　boy　how　to　drink　English　bitter。　Beating　Falcone　would　not　be　easy。　There　just　wasn't　much　room　to　take　a　guy　who　often　as　not　shot　a　〃possible；〃　or　perfect　score。
　〃Well；　Sergeant…Major；　then　I　guess　I'm　in　good　pany。〃　Clark　punched　him　on　the　shoulder　as　he　headed　out　the　door；　shaking　his　head。　Behind　him；　Falcone　was　firing　another　string。　He　evidently　liked　being　Number　One；　and　practiced　hard　to　stay　there。　It　had　been　a　long　time　since　anyone　had　bested　him　on　a　shooting　range。　John　didn't　like　it；　but　fair　was　fair；　and　Falcone　had　won　within　the　rules。
　Was　it　just　one　more　sign　that　he　was　slowing　down？　He　wasn't　running　as　fast　as　the　younger　troops　at　RAINBOW；　of　course；　and　that　bothered　him；　too。　John　Clark　wasn't　ready　to　be　old　yet。　He　wasn't　ready　to　be　a　grandfather　either；　but　he　had　little　choice　in　that。　His　daughter　and　Ding　had　presented　him　with　a　grandson；　and　he　couldn't　exactly　ask　that　they　take　him　back。　He　was　keeping　his　weight　down；　though　that　often　required；　as　it　had　today；　skipping　lunch　in　favor　of　losing　five　paper…pounds　at　the　pistol　range。　　　
　〃Well；　how　did　it　go；　John？〃　Alistair　Stanley　asked；　as　Clark　entered　the　office　building。
　〃The　kid's　real　good；　Al；〃　John　replied；　as　he　put　his　pistol　in　the　desk　drawer。
　〃Indeed。　He　won　five　pounds　off　me　last　week。〃
　A　grunt。　〃I　guess　that　makes　it　unanimous。〃　John　settled　in　his　swivel　chair；　like　the　〃suit〃　he'd　bee。　〃Okay；　anything　e　in　while　I　was　off　losing　money？〃
　〃Just　this　from　Moscow。　Ought　not　to　have　e　here　anyway；〃　Stanley　told　his　boss；　as　he　handed　over　the　fax。
　
　〃They　want　what？〃　Ed　Foley　asked　in　his　seventh…floor　office。
　〃They　want　us　to　help　train　some　of　their　people；〃　Mary　Pat　repeated　for　her　husband。　The　original　message　had　been　crazy　enough　to　require　repetition。
　〃Jesus；　girl；　how　ecumenical　are　we　supposed　to　get？〃　the　DCI　demanded。
　〃Sergey　Nikolay'ch　thinks　we　owe　him　one。　And　you　know。。。〃

　He　had　to　nod　at　that。　〃Yeah；　well；　maybe　we　do；　I　guess。　This　has　to　go　up　the　line；　though。〃
　〃It　ought　to　give　Jack　a　chuckle；〃　the　Deputy　Director　（Operations）　thought。
　
　Shit；〃　Ryan　said　in　the　Oval　Office；　when　Ellen　Sumter　handed　him　the　fax　from　Langley。　Then　he　looked　up。　〃Oh；　excuse　me；　Ellen。〃
　She　smiled　like　a　mother　to　a　precocious　son。　〃Yes；　Mr。　President。〃
　〃Got　one　I　can。。。
　Mrs。　Sumter　had　taken　to　wearing　dresses　with　large　slash　pockets。　From　the　left　one；　she　fished　out　a　flip…top　box　of　Virginia　Slims　and　offered　it　to　her　President；　who　took　one　out　and　lit　it　from　the　butane　lighter　also　tucked　in　the　box。
　〃Well；　ain't　this　something？〃
　〃You　know　this　man；　don't　you？〃　Mrs。　Sumter　asked。
　〃Golovko？　Yeah。〃　Ryan　smiled　crookedly；　again　remembering　the　pistol　in　his　face　as　the　VC…　137　THUNDERed　down　the　runway　at　Moscow's　Sheremetyevo　airport　all　those　years　before。　He　could　smile　now。　At　the　time；　it　hadn't　seemed　all　that　funny。　〃Oh；　yeah；　Sergey　and　I　are　old　friends。〃
　As　a　Presidential　secretary；　Ellen　Sumter　was　cleared　for　just　about　everything；　even　the　fact　that　President　Ryan　bummed　the　occasional　smoke；　but　there　were　some　things　she　didn't　and　would　never　know。　She　was　smart　enough　to　have　curiosity；　but　also　smart　enough　not　to　ask。
　〃If　you　say　so；　Mr。　President。〃
　〃Thanks；　Ellen。〃　Ryan　sat　back　down　in　his　chair　and　took　a　long　puff　on　the　slender　cigarette。　Why　was　it　that　stress　of　any　sort　made　him　gravitate　back　to　these　damned　things　that　made　him　cough？　The　good　news　was　that　they　also　made　him　dizzy。　So；　that　meant　he　wasn't　a　smoker　not　really；　POTUS　told　himself。　He　read　over　the　fax　again。　It　had　two　pages。　One　was　the　original　fax　from　Sergey　Nikolay'ch　to　Langley…unsurprisingly；　he　had　Mary　Pat's　direct　fax　line；　and　wanted　to　show　off　that　fact…and　the　second　was　the　remendation　from　Edward　Foley；　his　CIA　director。
　For　all　the　official　baggage；　it　was　pretty　simple　stuff。　Golovko　didn't　even　have　to　explain　why　America　had　to　accede　to　his　request。　The　Foleys　and　Jack　Ryan　would　know　that　KGB　had　assisted　the　CIA　and　the　American　government　in　two　very　sensitive　and　important　missions；　and　the　fact　that　both　of　them　had　also　served　Russian　interests　was　beside　the　point。　Thus　Ryan　had　no　alternative。　He　lifted　the　phone　and　punched　a　speed…dial　button。
　〃Foley；〃　the　male　voice　at　the　other　end　said。
　〃Ryan；〃　Jack　said　in　turn。　He　then　heard　the　guy　at　the　other　end　sit　up　straighter　in　his　chair。　〃Got　the　fax。〃
　〃And？〃　the　DCI　asked。
　〃And　what　the　hell　else　can　we　do？〃
　〃I　agree。〃　Foley　could　have　said　that　he　personally　liked　Sergey　Golovko。　Ryan　did；　too；　as　he　knew。　But　this　wasn't　about　like　or　don't…like。　They　were　making　government　policy　here；　and　that　was　bigger　than　personal　factors。　Russia　had　helped　the　United　States　of　America；　and　now　Russia　was　asking　the　United　States　of　America　for　help　in　return。　In　the　regular　intercourse　among　nations；　such　requests；　if　they　had　precedents；　had　to　be　granted。　The　principle　was　the　same　as　lending　your　neighbor　a　rake　after　he　had　lent　you　a　hose　the　previous　day；　just　that　at　this　level；　people　occasionally　got　killed　from　such　favors。　〃You　handle　it　or　do　I？〃
　〃The　request　came　to　Langley。　You　do　the　reply。　Find　out　what　the　parameters　are。　We　don't　want　to　promise　RAINBOW；　do　we？〃
　〃No；　Jack；　but　there's　not　much　chance　of　that。　Europe's　quieted　down　quite　a　bit。　The　RAINBOW　troopers　are　mainly　exercising　and　punching　holes　in　paper。　That　news　story　that　ran…well；　we　might　actually　want　to　thank　the　putz　who　broke　it。〃　The　DCI　rarely　said　anything　favorable　about　the　press。　And　in　this　case　some　government　puke　had　talked　far　too　much　about　something　he　knew；　but　the　net　effect　of　the　story　had　had　the　desired　effect；　even　though　the　press　account　had　been　replete　with　errors；　which　was　hardly　surprising。　But　some　of　the　errors　had　made　RAINBOW　appear　quite　superhuman；　which　appealed　to　their　egos　and　gave　their　potential　enemies　pause。　And　so；　terrorism　in　Europe　had　slowed　down　to　a　crawl　after　its　brief　（and　somewhat　artificial；　they　knew　now）　rebirth。　The　Men　of　Black　were　just　too　scary　to　mess　with。　Muggers；　after　all；　went　after　the　little　old　ladies　who'd　just　cashed　their　Social　Security　checks；　not　the　armed　cop　on　the　corner。　In　this；　criminals　were　just　being　rational。　A　little　old　lady　can't　resist　a　mugger　very　effectively；　but　a　cop　carries　a　gun。
　〃I　expect　our　Russian　friends　will　keep　a　lid　on　it。〃
　〃I　think　we　can　depend　on　that；　Jack；〃　Ed　Foley　agreed。
　〃Any　reason　not　to　do　it？〃
　Ryan　could　hear　the　DCI　shift　in　his　seat。　〃I　never　have　been　keen　on　giving　'methods'　away　to　anybody；　but　this　isn't　an　intelligence　operation　per　se；　and　most　of　it　they　could　get　from　reading　the　right　books。　So；　I　guess　we　can　allow　it。〃
　
　〃Approved；〃　the　President　said。
　Ryan　imagined　he　could　see　the　nod　at　the　other　end。
　〃Okay；　the　reply　will　go　out　today。〃
　
　With　a　copy　to　Hereford；　of　course。　It　arrived　on　John's　　desk　before　closing　time。　He　summoned　Al　Stanley　and　handed　it　to　him。
　〃I　suppose　we're　being　famous；　John。〃
　〃Makes　you　feel　good；　doesn't　it？〃　Clark　asked　distastefully。　Both　were　former　clandestine　operators；　and　if　there　had　been　a　way　to　keep　their　own　supervisors　from　knowing　their　names　and　activities；　they　would　have　found　it　long　before。
　〃I　presume　you　will　go　yourself。　Whom　will　you　take　to　Moscow　with　you？〃
　〃Ding　and　Team…2。　Ding　and　I　have　been　there　before。　We've　both　met　Sergey　Nikolay'ch。　At　least　this　way　he　doesn't　see　all　that　many　new　faces。〃
　〃Yes；　and　your　Russian；　as　I　recall；　is　first…rate。〃
　〃The　language　school　at　Monterey　is　pretty　good；〃　John　said；　with　a　nod。
　〃How　long　do　you　expect　to　be　gone？〃
　Clark　looked　back　down　at　the　fax　and　thought　it　over　for　a　few　seconds。　〃Oh；　not　more　than。。。　three　weeks；〃　he　said　aloud。　〃Their　Spetsnaz　people　aren't　bad。　We'll　set　up　a　training　group　for　them；　and　after　a　while；　we　can　probably　invite　them　here；　can't　we？〃
　Stanley　didn't　have　to　point　out　that　the　SAS　in　particular；　and　the　British　Ministry　of　Defense　in　general；　would　have　a　conniption　fit　over　that　one；　but　in　the　end　they'd　have　to　go　along　with　it。　It　was　calle