tc.redrabbit-第127部分

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　　　〃See　ya；　buddy；〃　Ryan　said　as　he　turned　to　the　door。
　　　〃Where　are　you　going？〃　Miss　Margaret　asked。
　　　〃Out　of　the　country。　Business；〃　Jack　explained。　〃I'll　call　Cathy　from　the　airport。〃
　　　〃Good　trip；　Dr。　Ryan。〃
　　　〃Thanks；　Margaret。〃　And　back　out　the　door。
　　　〃How　are　we　on　time？〃　Ryan　asked；　back　in　the　car。
　　　〃No　problem；〃　Thompson　thought　out　loud。　If　they　were　late；　this　airliner；　too；　would　have　a　minor　mechanical　problem。
　　　〃Good。〃　Jack　adjusted　his　seat　to　lean　back　and　get　a　few　winks。
　　　He　awoke　just　outside　Heathrow　Terminal　Three。　Thompson　drove　up　to　where　a　man　in　civilian　clothes　was　standing。　He　looked　like　some　sort　of　government　worker。
　　　He　was。　As　soon　as　Ryan　alighted　from　the　car；　the　man　came　over　with　a　ticket　envelope。
　　　〃Sir；　your　flight　leaves　in　forty　minutes；　Gate　Twelve；〃　the　man　reported。　〃You'll　be　met　in　Rome　by　Tom　Sharp。〃
　　　〃What's　he　look　like？〃　Jack　asked。
　　　〃He　will　know　you；　sir。〃
　　　〃Fair　enough。〃　Ryan　took　the　tickets　and　headed　to　the　back　of　the　car　for　his　bags。
　　　〃I'll　take　care　of　that　for　you；　sir。〃
　　　This　sort　of　traveling　had　its　possibilities；　Jack　thought。　He　waved　at　Thompson　and　headed　into　the　terminal；　looking　for　Gate　Twelve。　That　proved　easy　enough。　Ryan　took　a　seat　close　by　the　gate　and　checked　his　ticket…1…A　again；　a　first…class　ticket。　The　SIS　must　have　had　a　fortable　understanding　with　British　Airways。　Now　all　he　had　to　do　was　survive　the　flight。
　　　He　boarded　twenty　minutes　later；　sitting　down；　strapping　in；　and　turning　his　watch　forward　one　hour。　He　endured　the　usual　rigmarole　of　useless　safety　briefing　and　instructions　on　how　to　buckle　his　seat　belt；　which；　in　Jack's　case；　was　already　clicked　and　snugged　in。
　　　The　flight　took　two　hours；　depositing　Jack　at　Leonardo　da　Vinci　Airport　at　3：09　local　time。　Jack　walked　off　the　aircraft　and　looked　for　the　Blue　Channel　to　get　his　diplomatic　passport　stamped　after　a　wait　of　about　five　seconds…one　other　diplomat　had　been　ahead　of　him；　and　the　bonehead　had　forgotten　which　pocket　his　passport　was　in。
　　　With　that　done；　he　retrieved　his　bags　off　the　carousel　and　headed　out。　A　man　with　a　gray　and　brown　beard　seemed　to　be　eyeballing　him。
　　　〃You're　Jack　Ryan？〃
　　　〃You　must　be　Tom　Sharp。〃
　　　〃Correct。　Let　me　help　you　with　your　bags。〃　Why　people　did　this；　Ryan　didn't　know；　though　on　reflection；　he'd　done　it　himself　often　enough；　and　the　Brits　were　the　world　champions　at　good　manners。
　　　〃And　you　are？〃　Ryan　asked。
　　　〃Station　Chief　Rome；〃　Sharp　replied。　〃C　called　to　say　you　were　ing　in；　Sir　John；　and　that　I　ought　to　meet　you　personally。〃
　　　〃Good　of　Basil；〃　Jack　thought　out　loud。
　　　Sharp's　car　was；　in　this　case；　a　Bentley　sedan；　bronze　in　color；　with　left…hand　driver's　seat　in　deference　to　the　fact　that　they　were　in　a　barbarian　country。
　　　〃Nice　wheels；　fella。〃
　　　〃My　cover　is　Deputy　Chief　of　Mission；〃　Sharp　explained。　〃I　could　have　had　a　Ferrari；　but　it　seemed　a　little　too　ostentatious。　I　do　little　actual　field　work；　you　see；　just　administrative　things。　I　actually　am　the　DCM　of　the　embassy。　Too　much　diplomatic　work…that　can　drive　one　mad。〃
　　　〃How's　Italy？〃
　　　〃Lovely　place；　lovely　people。　Not　terribly　well　organized。　They　say　we　Brits　muddle　through　things；　but　we're　bloody　Prussians　pared　to　this　lot。〃
　　　〃Their　cops？〃
　　　〃Quite　good；　actually。　Several　different　police　forces。　Best　of　the　lot　are　the　Carabinieri；　paramilitary　police　of　the　central　government。　Some　of　them　are　excellent。　Down　in　Sicily　they're　trying　to　get　a　handle　on　the　Mafia…pig　of　a　job　that　is；　but；　you　know；　eventually　I　think　they　will　succeed。〃
　　　〃You　briefed　in　on　why　they　sent　me　down？〃
　　　〃Some　people　think　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　wants　to　kill　the　Pope？　That's　what　my　telex　said。〃
　　　〃Yeah。　We　just　got　a　defector　out　who　says　so；　and　we　think　he's　giving　us　the　real　shit。〃
　　　〃Any　details？〃
　　　〃'Fraid　not。　I　think　they　sent　me　down　here　to　work　with　you　until　somebody　figures　out　the　right　thing　to　do。　Looks　to　me　like　an　attempt　might　be　made　Wednesday。〃
　　　〃The　weekly　appearance　in　the　square？〃
　　　Jack　nodded。　〃Yep。〃　They　were　on　the　highway　from　the　airport　to　Rome。　The　country　looked　odd　to　Ryan；　but　it　took　a　minute　to　figure　out　why。　Then　he　got　it。　The　pitch　of　the　roofs　was　different…shallower　than　what　he　was　used　to。　They　probably　didn't　get　much　snow　here　in　winter。　Otherwise　the　houses　looked　rather　like　sugar　cubes；　painted　white　to　reject　the　heat　of　the　Italian　sun。　Well；　every　country　had　its　unique　architecture。
　　　〃Wednesday；　eh？〃
　　　〃Yeah。　We're　also　looking　for　a　guy　named　Boris　Strokov；　colonel　in　the　Bulgarian　DS。　Sounds　like　a　professional　killer。〃
　　　Sharp　concentrated　on　the　road。　〃I've　heard　the　name。　Wasn't　he　a　suspect　in　the　Georgiy　Markov　killing？〃
　　　〃That's　the　guy。　They　ought　to　be　sending　some　photos　of　him。〃
　　　〃Courier　on　your　flight；〃　Sharp　reported。　〃Taking　a　different　way　into　the　city。〃
　　　〃Any　ideas　on　what　the　hell　to　do？〃
　　　〃We'll　get　you　settled　at　the　embassy…my　house；　actually；　two　blocks　away。　It's　rather　nice。　Then　we'll　drive　down　to　Saint　Peter's　and　look　around；　get　a　feel　for　things。　I've　been　there　to　see　the　artwork　and　such…the　Vatican　art　collection　is　on　a　par　with　the　Queen's…but　I've　never　worked　there　per　se。　Ever　been　to　Rome？〃
　　　〃Never。〃
　　　〃Very　well；　let's　take　a　drive…about　first　instead；　give　you　a　quick　feel　for　the　place。〃
　　　Rome　seemed　a　remarkably　disorganized　place…but　so　did　a　street　map　of　London；　whose　city　fathers　had　evidently　not　been　married　to　the　city　mothers。　And　Rome　was　older　by　a　thousand　years　or　so；　built　when　the　fastest　thing　going　was　a　horse；　and　they　were　slower　in　real　life　than　in　a　John　Ford　Western。　Not　many　straight　lines　for　the　roads；　and　a　meandering　river　in　the　middle。　Everything　looked　old　to　Ryan…no；　not　old　but　old；　as　though　dinosaurs　had　once　walked　the　streets。　That　was　a　little　hard　to　reconcile　with　the　automobile　traffic；　of　course。
　　　〃That's　the　Flavian　Amphitheater。　It　was　called　the　Coliseum　because　the　Emperor　Nero　had　built　a　large　statue　of　himself　right　there〃…Sharp　pointed…〃and　the　people　took　to　calling　the　stadium　by　that　name；　rather　to　the　annoyance　of　the　Flavian　family；　which　built　the　place　out　of　proceeds　from　the　Jewish　rebellion　that　Josephus　wrote　about。〃
　　　Jack　had　seen　it　on　TV　and　in　the　movies；　but　that　wasn't　quite　the　same　as　driving　past　it。　Men　had　built　that　with　nothing　more　than　sweat　power　and　hemp　ropes。　Its　shape　was　strangely　reminiscent　of　Yankee　Stadium　in　New　York。　But　Babe　Ruth　had　never　spilled　a　guy's　guts　out　in　the　Bronx。　A　lot　of　that　had　happened　here。　It　was　time　for　Ryan　to　make　an　admission。
　　　〃You　know；　if　they　ever　invent　a　time　machine；　I　think　I　might　like　to　e　back　and　see　what　it　was　like。　Makes　me　a　barbarian；　doesn't　it？〃
　　　〃Just　their　version　of　rugby；〃　Sharp　said。　〃And　the　football　here　can　be　pretty　tough。〃
　　　〃Soccer　is　a　girl's　game；〃　Jack　snorted。
　　　〃You　are　a　barbarian；　Sir　John。　Soccer；〃　he　explained　in　his　best　accent；　〃is　a　gentleman's　game　played　by　thugs；　while　rugby　is　a　thug's　game　played　by　gentlemen。〃
　　　〃I'll　take　your　word　for　it。　I　just　want　to　see　the　International　Tribune。　My　baseball　team's　in　the　World　Series；　and　I　don't　even　know　how　it's　going。〃
　　　〃Baseball？　Oh；　you　mean　rounders。　Yes；　that　is　a　girl's　game；〃　Sharp　announced。
　　　〃I've　had　this　talk　before。　You　Brits　just　don't　understand。〃
　　　〃As　you　do　not　understand　proper　football；　Sir　John。　In　Italy　it's　even　more　a　national　passion　than　at　home。　They　tend　to　play　a　fiery　game；　rather　different　from　the　Germans；　for　example；　who　play　like　great　bloody　machines。〃
　　　It　was　like　listening　to　the　distinction　between　a　curveball　and　a　slider　or　a　screwball　and　a　forkball。　Ryan　wasn't　all　that　good　a　baseball　fan　to　be　able　to　grasp　all　the　distinctions；　it　depended　on　the　TV　announcer；　who　probably　just　made　it　up　anyway。　But　he　knew　that　there　wasn't　a　player　in　baseball　who　could　smack　a　good　curveball　on　the　outside　corner。
　　　Saint　Peter's　Basilica　was　five　minutes　after　that。
　　　〃Damn！〃　Jack　breathed。
　　　〃Big；　isn't　it？〃
　　　It　wasn't　big；　it　was　vast。
　　　Sharp　went　to　the　left　side　of　the　cathedral；　ending　up　in　what　looked　like　an　area　of　shops…jewelry；　it　seemed…where　he　parked。
　　　〃Let's　take　a　look；　shall　we？〃
　　　Ryan　took　the　chance　to　leave　the　car　and　stretch　his　legs；　and　he　had　to　remind　himself　that　he　was　not　here　to　admire　the　architecture　of　Bramante　and　Michelangelo。　He　was　here　to　scout　the　terrain　for　a　mission；　as　he　had　been　taught　to　plan　for　at　Quantico。　It　wasn't　really　all　that　hard　if　you　spoke　the　language。
　　　From　above；　it　must　have　looked　like　an　old…fashioned　basketball　key。　The　circular　part　of　the　piazza　looked　to　be　a　good　two　hundred　yards　in　diameter；　then　narrowed　down　to　perhaps　a　third　of　that　as　you　got　away　from　the　monstrous　bronze　doors　to　the　church　itself。
　　　〃When　he　sees　the　crowd；　he　boards　his　car…rather　like　a　cross　between　a　jeep　and　a　golf　trolley…just　there；　and　he　follows　a　cleared　path　in　the　crowd　along　this　way；〃　Sharp　explained；　〃around　there；　and　back。　Takes　about；　oh；　twenty　minutes　or　so；　depending　on　whether　he　stops　the　car　for…what　you　Americans　call　pressing　the　flesh。　I　s