rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第3部分

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　attar　of　roses　and　of　Sophia。　Cairo。。。　They　were　at　the　pyramids　of　Giza；　outside　Cairo。
　The　secure　line。。。
　Smith　sat　up　fast　on　the　couch　where　he　had　fallen　asleep；　fully　dressed；　after　ing　home　from　the　cemetery。　Beyond　the　windows　streaked　with　rain；　the　wind　moaned　as　it　drove　heavy　clouds　across　the　sky。　A　former　bat　internist　and　battlefield　surgeon；　Smith　had　developed　the　gift　of　waking　up　fully　alert。　That　ability　had　served　him　well　during　his　time　at　USAMRIID；　where　sleep　was　often　snatched　between　long；　grueling　hours　of　work。　It　served　him　well　now。
　Smith　checked　the　time　at　the　bottom　right…hand　corner　of　the　monitor：　almost　nine　o'clock。　He　had　been　asleep　for　two　hours。　Emotionally　spent；　his　mind　still　filled　with　images　of　Sophia；　he　had　driven　himself　home；　heated　up　some　soup；　then　stretched　out　on　the　couch　and　listened　to　the　rain　churn　overhead。　He　had　not　intended　to　fall　asleep；　but　was　grateful　that　he　done　so。　Only　one　man　could　call　him　on　that　particular　line。　Whatever　message　he　had　could　signal　the　beginning　of　a　day　of　infinite　hours。
　〃Good　evening；　Mr。　Klein。〃
　〃Good　evening　to　you　too；　Jon。　I　hope　I'm　not　disturbing　your　dinner。〃
　〃No；　sir。　I　ate　earlier　on。〃
　〃In　that　case；　how　soon　can　you　get　out　to　Andrews　Air　Force　base？〃
　Smith　took　a　deep　breath。　Klein　usually　had　a　calm；　businesslike　demeanor。　Smith　had　seldom　found　him　curt　or　abrupt。
　Which　means　there's　trouble…　and　it's　closing　fast。
　〃About　forty…five　minutes；　sir。〃
　〃Good。　And　Jon？　Pack　for　a　few　days。〃
　Smith　stared　at　the　dead　phone　in　his　hand。　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　Smith's　drill　was　so　ingrained　that　he　was　hardly　aware　of　going　through　the　motions。　Three　minutes　for　a　shower　and　shave；　two　minutes　to　dress；　two　more　to　double…check　and　add　a　few　things　to　the　ready　bag　in　the　walk…in　closet。　On　his　way　out；　he　set　the　security　system　for　the　house；　once　he　had　the　sedan　out　in　the　driveway；　he　armed　the　garage　using　the　remote。
　The　rain　made　the　ride　to　Andrews　Air　Force　base　longer　than　usual。　Smith　avoided　the　main　entry　and　turned　in　at　the　supply　gate。　A　poncho…covered　guard　examined　his　laminated　ID；　checked　his　name　against　those　on　the　list　of　approved　personnel；　and　waved　him　through。
　Smith　had　flown　out　of　Andrews　often　enough　to　know　his　way　around。　He　had　no　trouble　finding　the　hangar　housing　the　fleet　of　executive　jets　that；　most　times；　ferried　around　the　brass。　He　parked　in　a　designated　area　well　away　from　the　aircraft　taxi　lanes；　grabbed　his　ready　bag　from　the　trunk；　and　splashed　his　way　into　the　immense　hangar。
　〃Good　evening；　Jon；〃　Klein　said。　〃Crappy　night。　It'll　probably　get　worse。〃
　Smith　set　down　his　bag。　〃Yes；　sir。　But　only　for　the　navy。〃
　The　age…old　joke　didn't　get　a　grin　out　of　Klein　this　time。
　〃I'm　sorry　to　have　dragged　you　out　on　a　night　like　this。　Something's　e　up。　Walk　with　me。〃
　Smith　looked　around　as　he　followed　Klein　to　the　coffee　station。　There　were　four　Gulfstream　jets　in　the　hangar；　but　no　maintenance　personnel。　Smith　guessed　that　Klein　had　ordered　them　out　to　ensure　privacy。
　〃They're　fueling　a　bird　with　long…range　tanks；〃　Klein　said；　glancing　at　his　watch。　〃Should　be　ready　in　ten　minutes。〃
　He　handed　Smith　a　Styrofoam　cup　filled　with　steaming　black　coffee；　then　looked　at　him　carefully。
　〃Jon；　this　is　an　extraction。　That's　the　reason　for　the　rush。〃
　And　the　need　for　a　mobile　cipher。
　Given　his　army　background；　Smith　was　familiar　with　the　terms　〃extraction；〃　as　Klein　had　used　it。　It　meant　getting　someone　or　something　out　of　a　place　or　a　situation　as　quickly　and　quietly　as　possible…　usually　under　duress　and　on　a　tight　schedule。
　But　Smith　also　knew　that　there　were　specialists…　military　and　civilian…　who　handled　this　kind　of　work。
　When　he　said　as　much；　Klein　replied；　〃There　are　certain　considerations　in　this　case。　I　don't　want　to　involve　any　other　agencies…　at　least　not　yet。　Also；　I　know　this　individual…　and　so　do　you。〃
　Smith　started。　〃Excuse　me；　sir？〃
　〃The　man　you　are　going　to　meet　and　bring　out　is　Yuri　Danko。〃
　〃Danko。。。〃
　In　his　mind's　eye　Smith　saw　a　bearlike　man；　a　few　years　older　than　he；　with　a　gentle　moon　face　pockmarked　by　childhood　acne。　Yuri　Danko；　the　son　of　a　Dobnets　coal　miner；　born　with　a　defective　leg；　had　gone　on　to　bee　a　full　colonel　in　the　Russian　army's　Medical　Intelligence　Division。
　Smith　couldn't　shake　his　surprise。　Smith　knew　that　before　signing　the　security　agreement　that　had　made　him　part　of　Covert…One；　Klein　had　put　his　entire　life　under　a　microscope。　That　meant　Klein　was　aware　that　Smith　knew　Danko。　But　never　in　all　the　briefings　had　Klein　ever　hinted　that　he　had　a　relationship　with　the　Russian。
　〃Is　Danko　part　of…？〃
　〃Covert…One？　No。　And　you　are　not　to　mention　the　fact　that　you　are。　As　far　as　Danko　is　concerned；　I'm　sending　a　friendly　face　to　bring　him　out。　That's　all。〃
　Smith　doubted　that。　There　was　always　more　to　Klein　than　met　the　eye。　But　one　thing　he　was　sure　of：　Klein　would　never　place　an　operative　in　harm's　way　by　not　telling　him　everything　he　needed　to　know。
　〃The　last　time　Danko　and　I　met；〃　Klein　was　saying；　〃we　established　a　simple　code　that　would　be　used　only　in　an　emergency　scenario。　The　code　was　a　menu。　The　price…　8　euros…　indicates　the　date；　April　8；　two　days　from　now。　One；　if　we're　working　on　European　time。
　〃The　specialty　is　seafood；　which　stands　for　the　way　Danko　will　be　ing：　by　sea。　The　Bellini　is　a　cocktail　that　was　first　made　in　Harry's　Bar　in　Venice。　The　hours　that　the　restaurant　is　closed；　between　two　and　four　in　the　afternoon；　is　the　time　the　contact　is　supposed　to　be　at　the　rendezvous　point。〃　Klein　paused。　〃It's　a　simple　but　very　effective　code。　Even　if　the　encryption　was　promised　and　the　message　intercepted；　it　would　be　impossible　to　make　sense　of　the　menu。〃
　〃If　Danko　isn't　due　in　for　another　twenty…four　hours　at　least；　why　hit　the　panic　button？〃　Smith　asked。
　〃Because　Danko　hit　it　first；〃　Klein　replied；　his　concern　obvious。　〃He　might　get　to　Venice　ahead　of　schedule；　he　might　run　late。　If　it's　the　former；　I　don't　want　him　twisting　in　the　wind。〃
　Smith　nodded　as　he　sipped　his　coffee。　〃Understood。　Now；　for　the　sixty…four…thousand…dollar　question：　What　made　Danko　jackrabbit？〃
　〃Only　he'll　be　able　to　tell　us　his　reasons。　And　believe　me；　I　want　to　know　them。　Danko　is　in　a　unique　position。　He　would　never　have　promised　it。。。〃
　Smith　raised　an　eyebrow。　〃Unless？〃
　〃Unless　he　was　on　the　verge　of　being　promised。〃　Klein　put　down　his　coffee。　〃I　can't　say　for　sure；　Jon；　but　I　think　Danko　is　carrying　information。　If　so；　it　means　he　thinks　I　need　to　have　it。〃
　Klein　glanced　over　Smith's　shoulder　at　an　air　police　sergeant　who　entered　the　hangar。
　〃The　aircraft's　ready　for　takeoff；　sir；〃　the　sergeant　announced　smartly。
　Klein　touched　Smith's　elbow　and　they　walked　to　the　doors。
　〃Go　to　Venice；〃　he　said　softly。　〃Pick　up　Danko　and　find　out　what　he　has。　Find　out　fast。〃
　〃I　will。　Sir；　there's　something　I'll　need　in　Venice。〃
　Smith　needn't　have　lowered　his　voice　as　they　stepped　outside。　The　drumbeat　of　the　rain　drowned　out　his　words。　Only　Klein's　nod　indicated　that　Smith　was　talking　at　all。
　
　CHAPTER　THREE
　　
　In　Catholic　Europe；　Easter　week　is　a　time　of　pilgrimages　and　reunions。　Businesses　and　schools　close　their　doors；　trains　and　hotels　are　overbooked；　and　the　denizens　of　the　Old　World's　landmark　cities　brace　themselves　for　an　onslaught　of　strangers。
　In　Italy；　Venice　is　one　of　the　most　popular　destinations　for　those　seeking　to　bine　the　sacred　and　the　profane。　The　Serenissima　is　a　rich　tapestry　of　churches　and　cathedrals；　enough　to　satisfy　the　spiritual　needs　of　even　the　most　devoted　pilgrim。　Yet　it　is　also　a　thousand…year…old　playground　whose　narrow　streets　and　cobblestone　alleys　shelter　enterprises　catering　to　a　whole　spectrum　of　earthly　appetites。
　At　precisely　one　forty…five　in　the　afternoon；　just　as　he'd　done　the　past　two　days；　Smith　threaded　through　the　rows　of　tables　set　out　in　front　of　the　Florian　Café　on　the　Piazza　San　Marco。　He　always　chose　the　same　table；　close　to　a　small；　raised　platform　upon　which　stood　a　grand　piano。　The　pianist　would　arrive　in　a　few　minutes；　and　punctually　on　the　hour；　notes　written　by　Mozart　or　Bach　would　dance　above　the　chatter　and　footsteps　of　the　hundreds　of　tourists　who　crowded　the　square。
　The　server　who　had　waited　on　Smith　the　last　two　days　hurried　over　to　his　customer。　The　American…　he　could　only　be　that；　given　his　accented　Italian…　was　a　good　customer；　that　is　to　say；　one　who　didn't　recognize　bad　service　and　so　tipped　generously　anyway。　Judging　by　the　smart　charcoal…gray　suit　and　hand…tooled　shoes；　the　waiter　took　Smith　for　a　prosperous　business　executive　who；　having　concluded　his　transactions；　was　enjoying　a　few　days'　sightseeing　at　his　pany's　expense。
　Smith　smiled　at　the　waiter；　ordered　his　usual　Gaffe　latte　and　prosciutto　affumicatio　sandwich；　and　flipped　open　the　day's　edition　of　The　International　Herald　Tribune　to　the　business　section。
　His　late…afternoon　snack　arrived　just　as　the　pianist　struck　the　opening　chords　of　a　Bach　variation。　Smith　dropped　two　sugar　cubes　into　his　coffee　and　took　his　time　stirring。　As　he　opened　his　newspaper；　he　scanned　the　open　area　between　his　table　and　the　Doge's　Palace。
　Most　anytime；　St。　Mark's；　with　its　inevitable　crowds；　was　the　perfect　place　to　pick　up　a　running　man。　But　the　runner　was　a　day　late。　He　wondered　if　Yuri　Danko　had　even　made　it　out　of　Russia　at　all。
　Smith　had　been　with　USAMRIID　when　he　had　first　met　Danko；　his　counterpart　in　the　Russian　army's　Medical　Intelligence　Division。　The　venue　was　the　palatial　Victoria…Jungfrau　Grand　Hotel　near　Berne。　There；　representatives　of　the　two　countries　came　together　in　an　informal　setting　to　brief　one　another　on　the　progress　of　the　gradual　shutdown　of　their　respective　bioweapons　programs。　The　meetings　were　an　adjunct　to　the　formal　verifications　made　by　international　inspectors。
　Smith　had　never　been　in　the　business　of　recruiting　agents。　But；　like　every　other　member　of　the　U。S。　team；　he　had　been　thoroughly　briefed　by　CIA　counterintelligence　officers　as　to　how　the　other　side　might　make　its　approaches　and　overtures。　During　the　first　few　days　of　the　conference；　Smith　found　himself　partnered　with　Danko。　Always　careful；　he　nonetheles