rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第31部分

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　〃Positive。　We　cleaned　up　the　video　enough　to　get　a　good　print；　which　I　shipped　over　to　the　embassy。　Don't　worry。　Whatever　the　cat　is；　it's　still　in　the　bag。　I　made　Treloar　a　prospective　investor　and　asked　for　a　standard　background　check。〃
　〃What　did　you　find　out？〃
　〃His　mother　was　Russian；　Jon。　She　died　a　while　ago。　Treloar　es　over　frequently；　to　pay　his　respects；　I　guess。　Oh；　and　he　was　on　the　same　flight　as　you…　American　1710。〃
　Smith　was　stunned。　〃Randi；　I　can't　thank　you　enough。　But　I　have　to　run。〃'
　〃What　do　you　want　me　to　do　with　the　laptop　and　the　cell　phone　you　brought　in？〃
　〃Can　you　get　your　boy　genius　to　work　on　it？〃
　〃I　figured　as　much。　I'll　call　you　as　soon　as　I　have　something。〃
　Smith　left　the　office；　quickly　walked　back　to　the　customs　counter　and　found　the　agent　who　had　alerted　him　to　the　call。
　〃I　need　your　help；〃　he　said　urgently；　displaying　his　military　ID。　〃There　was　a　passenger　onboard　1710。　Can　you　find　out　if　he's　cleared　customs　yet？　The　name　is　Adam　Treloar。〃
　The　agent　turned　to　his　terminal。　〃Got　him　right　here。　Treloar。　Went　through　about　two　minutes　ago。　Do　you　want…？〃
　Smith　was　already　on　the　move；　heading　out　of　the　restricted　area　toward　the　concourse；　dialing　Klein's　number　as　he　ran。
　〃Klein　here。〃
　〃Sir；　it's　Smith。　The　guy　with　Beria　is　American。　Dr。　Adam　Treloar。　He's　a　NASA　scientist　and　he　was　on　the　London…to…Washington　flight。〃
　〃Can　you　find　him？〃　Klein　demanded　urgently。
　〃He　has　a　two…minute　start　on　me；　sir。　I　might　be　able　to　run　him　down　before　he　leaves　the　terminal。〃
　〃Jon；　I'm　at　Camp　David　with　the　president。　Hold　on；　please。〃
　Smith　kept　threading　his　way　through　the　traffic　in　the　concourse　as　he　waited　for　Klein　to　e　back　on　the　line。
　〃Jon；　listen　to　me。　A　FIREWALL　alert　was　issued　earlier；　for　Beria。　But　he　slipped　through　it。　Now　that　we　know　who　he　was　seen　with　it's　imperative　that　you　find　Treloar。　We　have　FBI　agents　in　the　area…〃
　〃No　good；　sir。　It'll　take　too　long　to　bring　them　up　to　speed。　I　think　I　have　the　best　shot。〃
　〃Then　take　it。〃
　Smith　raced　down　the　tunnel。　He　knew　the　layout　of　Dulles　intimately。　After　clearing　customs　and　immigration；　passengers　walked　through　the　arrivals　area　to　other　gates；　or；　if　D。C。　was　their　final　destination；　to　the　area　where　the　specially　built　transit　buses　waited。　These　vehicles　could　raise　their　platforms　to　reach　the　boarding　area。　Once　the　passengers　were　on；　the　chassis　was　lowered　and　the　buses　would　go　across　the　airport　to　the　main　terminal。　There；　the　docking　process　would　be　repeated；　and　the　passengers　would　disembark　and　head　for　the　exits。
　Smith　ran　past　the　shops　and　newsstands；　darting　among　travelers；　straining　to　catch　a　glimpse　of　Treloar。　Reaching　the　end　of　the　concourse；　he　found　himself　in　a　large　holding　area。　Along　one　wall　were　elevator…style　glass　doors　that　passengers　went　through　to　get　on　the　buses。　Only　one　bus　was　parked　at　the　dock。　Smith　shouldered　his　way　through　the　crowd　of　twenty…odd　travelers　who　were　in　the　process　of　boarding。
　Ignoring　the　shouts；of　protest；　Smith　elbowed　his　way　onto　the　bus；　his　eyes　flitting　from　face　to　face。　He　checked　every　passenger。　Treloar　wasn't　there。
　Smith　rapped　hard　on　the　partition　separating　the　cabin　from　the　driver's　partment。　A　startled；　black　face　looked　back　at　him　and　the　ID　he　jammed　against　the　glass。
　〃Did　another　bus　just　leave　here？〃　he　shouted。
　The　driver　nodded　and　gestured　at　a　bus　that　was　better　than　halfway　between　the　arrivals　area　and　the　main　terminal。
　Smith　turned　and　cut　his　way　through　the　growing　crowd　in　the　bus。　He　spotted　an　emergency　exit　and　dashed　toward　it。　Alarms　sounded　as　he　threw　open　the　door　with　the　large　red　warning　sign　stenciled　across　its　face。
　Flying　down　the　ramp　that　led　to　gate　aprons；　Smith　spotted　an　airport　supervisor's　sedan　idling　next　to　a　string　of　baggage　carts。　He　flung　open　the　door　and　jumped　behind　the　wheel。　He　jammed　his　foot　on　the　accelerator　and　the　sedan　shot　onto　the　taxiways；　narrowly　missing　an　oning　fueler。
　The　drive　across　the　parking　aprons　took　less　than　thirty　seconds。　Abandoning　the　vehicle；　Smith　raced　up　to　the　bus。　Because　the　chassis　was　eight　feet　off　the　ground；　he　could　make　out　only　the　heads　of　the　passengers　as　they　disembarked。
　Swinging　through　another　emergency　door；　Smith　found　himself　in　an　identical　holding　area　filled　with　passengers　waiting　to　board。　Turning；　he　saw　the　backs　of　those　who　had　just　e　off　the　bus。
　He　scanned　the　sea　of　faces　around　him。　Treloar　couldn't　have　slipped　out。　Not　that　fast。
　Then　he　saw　him；　only　a　glimpse　at　first。　But　it　was　unmistakably　Treloar；　beyond　the　sliding　glass　doors　that　opened　to　the　sidewalk　outside　where　cabs；　limousines；　and　private　vehicles　waited。
　Barging　ahead；　Smith　jammed　through　the　doors　in　time　to　see　his　quarry　about　to　step　into　a　black　Lincoln　sedan　with　heavily　tinted　windows。
　〃Treloar！〃
　Charging　down　on　him；　Smith　saw　terror　in　those　odd　eyes；　noted　the　way　Treloar　was　clutching　his　carry…on　tightly　against　his　chest。
　Treloar　jumped　into　the　car　and　slammed　the　door。　Smith　reached　the　vehicle　just　in　time　to　get　his　fingers　around　the　door　handle。　Then；　without　warning；　the　big　car　screeched　away　from　the　curb；　throwing　him　heavily　to　the　sidewalk。　Smith　tucked　his　shoulder；　letting　it　absorb　the　impact；　and　rolled　with　the　momentum。　By　the　time　he　was　back　on　his　feet；　the　Lincoln　was　well　into　traffic。
　Two　airport　policemen　ran　up　and　grabbed　him　by　the　arms。　Thirty　precious　seconds　were　wasted　as　Smith　struggled　to　identify　himself。　Finally　he　was　able　to　get　Klein　on　the　line。
　〃Did　you　get　the　plate　number？〃　Klein　demanded　after　Smith　told　him　about　the　car。
　〃No。　But　I　saw　the　last　three　digits。　And　there　was　an　orange　sticker　in　the　lower　left　corner。　Sir；　the　Lincoln　is　registered　to　a　U。S。　government　agency。〃
　
　CHAPTER　SIXTEEN
　　
　〃Where　are　we　going？〃
　The　heavily　tinted　glass　between　the　front　and　rear　partments　prevented　Adam　Treloar　from　seeing　the　driver。　His　voice；　ing　through　hidden　speakers；　had　a　raspy　quality。
　〃There　is　no　need　for　concern；　Dr。　Treloar。　Arrangements　have　been　made。　Please　sit　back　and　enjoy　the　ride。　There　will　be　no　further　munication　until　we've　reached　our　destination。〃
　Treloar's　eyes　darted　to　the　door　locks。　He　pushed　the　button　to　raise　them；　but　to　no　avail。
　What's　happening　here？
　No　matter　how　hard　he　tried　to　calm　himself；　Treloar　could　not　erase　the　image　of　Smith：　on　the　plane；　in　the　customs　area；　spotting　him；　the　recognition　dawning　across　his　face。　Treloar　considered　it　a　miracle　that　the　transfer　bus　had　pulled　away　from　its　bay　before；　Smith　managed　to　get　onboard。　But　that　hadn't　stopped　him。　Smith　was　like　some　savage　hound；　refusing　to　give　up　the　chase。　Treloar　had　caught　a　glimpse　of　him　in　the　main　terminal；　just　seconds　before　he'd　raced　through　the　exit　doors。　But　even　then　Smith　had　almost　caught　up　to　him。　Treloar　recoiled　when　he　flashed　on　the　hand　curling　over　the　door　handle；　trying　to　force　it　open。
　I'm　safe　now；　he　thought；　trying　to　reassure　himself。　The　car　was　waiting　as　they　promised。　Smith　won't　be　able　to　touch　me　where　I'm　going。
　The　rationale　provided　some　fort；　but　it　could　not　still　other　questions：　Why　was　Smith　after　him？　Did　he　suspect　that　Treloar　was　carrying　the　smallpox？　Did　he　know？
　Impossible！
　Treloar　was　well　versed　in　the　protocols　regarding　a　bioweapons　alert。　If　Smith　had　had　the　slightest　suspicion　that　he　was　the　courier；　Treloar　never　would　have　made　it　off　the　jetway　without　being　arrested。
　Then　why？　What　had　prompted　Smith　to　focus　on　him？
　Treloar　sat　back　in　the　soft　leather　seat；　gazing　out　at　what　appeared　to　be　nightscape。　The　car　was　moving　swiftly　along　the　highway　that　led　from　the　industrial　parks　around　Dulles　into　the　city　proper。　The　driver　didn't　seem　to　be　worried　about　being　stopped　for　speeding。
　Just　as　well；　as　far　as　Treloar　was　concerned。　The　sooner　they　reached　their　destination；　the　sooner　he　would　have　his　answers。
　
　The　news　of　Adam　Treloar's　escape　did　not　sit　well　with　Nathaniel　Klein。
　〃I　know　you　did　your　best；　Jon；〃　he　said；　speaking　over　a　secure　line。　〃But　now　we　have　Beria　and　Treloar　to　deal　with。〃
　Smith　was　huddled　next　to　a　pillar　outside　the　main　terminal。
　〃I　understand；　sir。　But　with　Treloar；　we　have　a　break。　The　tags　on　the　car　that　picked　him　up　were　government。〃
　〃I'm　running　them　even　as　we　speak；〃　Klein　replied。　〃What　I　don't　understand　is　why　he　bolted。〃
　〃Because　he's　guilty；　sir；〃　Smith　said　coldly。　〃There　was　no　reason　for　Treloar　to　evade　me。　It　was　clear　that　he　remembered　me　from　Houston。　So　why　run？　What　was　he　so　afraid　of？〃　Smith　paused。　〃And　where　was　he　going　in　such　a　hurry？　He　didn't　even　pick　up　his　luggage。〃
　〃But　according　to　you；　he　had　a　carry…on。〃
　〃That　he　was　holding　on　to　as　if　the　crown　jewels　were　inside。〃
　〃Hold　for　a　moment；〃　Klein　said。　〃Something's　ing　through　on　those　tags。〃
　Smith　heard　the　sound　of　a　printer；　then　Klein　was　back　on　the　line。
　〃The　car　that　was　waiting　for　Treloar　is　registered　to　NASA。〃
　Smith　was　stunned。　〃Okay。　Treloar　has　enough　seniority　to　have　a　driver　meet　him。　But　that　still　begs　the　question：　why　run？〃
　〃If　he　is　running；　Jon；　would　he　have　arranged　for　such　obvious　transport？〃
　〃Sure…　because　he　never　expected　to　see　me　or　to　be　the　object　of　any　attention。〃　Smith　paused。　〃Let's　find　the　car　and　ask　him；　sir。〃
　〃Let's　do　one　better。　I'll　have　a　federal　BOLO　alert　put　out　on　Treloar。〃
　The　implications　of　what　Klein　suggested　were　far　reaching。　A　BOLO　alert　meant　that　every　law　enforcement　officer　within　a　hundred　miles　of　the　capital　would　have　Treloar's　description　and　orders　to　pick　him　up　on　sight。
　〃In　the　meantime；〃　Klein　concluded；　〃I　want　you　here　at　Camp　David。　The　president　is　expecting　a　briefing　on　Beria。　I　want　him　to　hear　your　report　firsthand。〃
　
　The　Lincoln　wound　its　way　up　Wisconsin　Avenue　and　crept　down　a　quiet；　leafy　street。　An　alumnus　of　Georgetown　University　Medical　School；　Treloar　recognized　the　area　as　Volta　Place…　a　neighborhood　on　the　fringe　of　campus；　slowly　being　gentrified　block　by　block。
　The　locks　popped　up　and　the　driver　held　t