tc.redrabbit-第136部分

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not　approve　of　that　sort　of　thing；　Colonel。〃
　　　〃But…〃
　　　〃Why　are　we　bothering　to　talk　with　this　bastard；　Tom？〃　Ryan　asked；　catching　on。　〃We　have　our　orders；　don't　we？〃
　　　〃Patience；　Jack；　patience。　He's　not　going　anywhere　at　the　moment；　is　he？〃
　　　〃I　want　to　have　a　phone　to　call　my　embassy；〃　Strokov　said…rather　weakly；　Ryan　thought。
　　　〃Next　he'll　want　a　lawyer；〃　Sharp　observed　humorously。　〃Well；　in　London　you　could　have　a　solicitor　to　assist　you；　but　we　are　not　in　London；　are　we；　old　boy？〃
　　　〃And　we　are　not　Scotland　Yard；〃　Jack　added；　taking　his　lead　from　Sharp。　〃I　should　have　just　done　him　at　the　church；　Tom。〃
　　　Sharp　shook　his　head。　〃Too　noisy。　Better　we　just　let　him。。。　disappear；　Jack。　I'm　sure　Georgiy　would　understand。〃
　　　It　was　clear　from　Strokov's　face　that　he　was　not　accustomed　to　having　men　discuss　his　own　fate　in　the　way　that　he　had　so　often　determined　for　himself　the　fates　of　others。　It　was　easier　to　be　brave；　he　was　finding；　when　he　was　the　fellow　holding　the　gun。
　　　〃Well；　I　wasn't　going　to　kill　him；　Tom；　just　sever　his　spine　below　the　waist。　You　know；　put　him　in　a　wheelchair　the　rest　of　his　life；　make　him　as　incontinent　as　a　baby。　How　loyal　you　suppose　his　government　will　be　to　him？〃
　　　Sharp　nearly　gagged　on　the　thought。　〃Loyal；　the　Dirzhavna　Sugurnost　Please；　Jack。　Be　serious。　They'd　just　put　him　in　a　hospital；　probably　a　mental　hospital；　and　they'll　wipe　his　ass　once　or　twice　a　day　if　he's　lucky。〃
　　　That　one　went　through　the　hoop；　Ryan　saw。　None　of　the　East　Bloc　services　were　big　on　loyalty…down；　even　to　those　who'd　shown　a　lot　of　loyalty…up。　And　Strokov　knew　it。　No；　once　you　screwed　the　pooch；　you　were　in　very　deep　shit；　and　your　friends　evaporated　like　the　morning　mist…and　somehow　Strokov　didn't　strike　Ryan　as　one　who　had　all　that　many　friends　anyway。　Even　in　his　own　service　he'd　be　like　an　attack　dog…valuable；　perhaps；　but　not　loved　or　trusted　around　the　kids。
　　　〃In　any　case；　while　Boris　and　I　discuss　the　future；　you　have　a　flight　to　catch；〃　Sharp　told　him。　It　was　just　as　well。　Ryan　was　running　out　of　impromptu　lines。　〃Give　my　regards　to　Sir　Basil；　will　you？〃
　　　〃You　bet；　Tommy。〃　Ryan　left　the　room　and　took　a　deep　breath。　Mick　King　and　the　rest　were　waiting　out　there　for　him。　Someone　at　Sharp's　official　residence　had　packed　his　bags；　and　there　was　an　embassy　minibus　waiting　to　take　them　all　to　the　airport。　There；　a　British　Airways　Boeing　737　was　waiting；　and　they　caught　it　just　in　time；　all　with　first…class　tickets。　Ryan　was　next　to　King　for　the　flight。
　　　〃What　the　hell；〃　Jack　asked；　〃are　we　going　to　do　with　him？〃
　　　〃Strokov？　Good　question；〃　Mick　replied。　〃Are　you　sure　you　want　to　know　the　answer？〃
　　　
　　　CHAPTER　32　…　MASQUED　BALL
　　　On　the　two…hour　flight　back　to　Heathrow；　Ryan　availed　himself　of　three　miniatures　of　single…malt　scotch；　mainly　because　it　was　the　only　hard　stuff　they　had。　Somehow；　his　fear　of　flying　receded　into　the　background…it　helped　that　the　flight　was　so　smooth　that　the　aircraft　might　as　well　have　been　sitting　still　on　the　ground；　but　Ryan　also　had　a　head　full　of　other　thoughts。
　　　〃What　went　wrong；　Mick？〃　Ryan　asked　over　the　Alps。
　　　〃What　went　wrong　was　that　our　friend　Strokov　wasn't　planning　to　do　the　assassination　himself。　He　got　someone　else　to　do　the　actual　shooting。〃
　　　〃Then　why　was　he　carrying　a　pistol　with　a　silencer　on　the　front　end？〃
　　　〃You　want　a　guess？　I'd　wager　he　was　hoping　to　kill　the　assassin　himself　and　then　blend　into　the　crowd　and　make　his　escape。　You　can't　read　everyone's　mind；　Jack；〃　King　added。
　　　〃So；　we　failed；〃　Ryan　concluded。
　　　〃Perhaps。　It　depends　on　where　the　bullets　went。　John　said　there　was　one　hit　in　the　body；　one　perhaps　in　the　hand　or　arm；　and　one　other　that　might　have　gone　wild；　or　at　worst　was　a　peripheral　strike。　So；　whether　the　man　survives　or　not　is　up　to　whatever　surgeon　is　working　on　him　now。〃　King　shrugged。　〃Out　of　our　hands；　my　friend。〃
　　　〃Fuck；〃　Ryan　breathed　quietly。
　　　〃Did　you　do　your　best；　Sir　John？〃
　　　That　snapped　his　head　around。　〃Yes…I　mean；　of　course。　We　all　did。〃
　　　〃And　that　is　all　a　man　can　do；　isn't　it？　Jack；　I've　been　in　the　field　for；　what？　Twelve　years。　Sometimes　things　go　according　to　plan。　Sometimes　they　do　not。　Given　the　information　we　had　and　the　manpower　we　were　able　to　deploy；　I　don't　see　how　we　could　have　done　any　better。　You're　an　analyst；　aren't　you？〃
　　　〃Correct。〃
　　　〃Well；　for　a　desk　boffin；　you　acquitted　yourself　well；　and　now　you　know　a　good　deal　more　about　field　operations。　There　are　no　guarantees　in　this　line　of　work。〃　King　took　another　swallow　of　his　drink。　〃I　can't　say　that　I　like　it；　either。　I　lost　an　agent　in　Moscow　two　years　ago。　He　was　a　young　captain　in　the　Soviet　army。　Seemed　a　decent　sort。　Wife　and　a　young　son。　They　shot　him；　of　course。　Lord　only　knows　what　happened　to　his　family。　Maybe　she's　in　a　labor　camp；　or　maybe　in　some　godforsaken　town　in　Siberia；　for　all　I　know。　You　never　find　that　out；　you　know。　Nameless；　faceless　victims；　but　victims　still。〃
　　　〃The　president　is　pissed；〃　Moore　told　his　senior　executives；　his　right　ear　still　burning　from　a　conversation　ten　minutes　before。
　　　〃That　bad？〃　Greer　asked。
　　　〃That　bad；〃　the　DCI　confirmed。　〃He　wants　to　know　who　did　it　and　why；　and　he'd　prefer　to　know　before　lunch。〃
　　　〃That's　not　possible；〃　Ritter　said。
　　　〃There's　the　phone；　Bob。　You　call　him　and　tell　him　that；〃　the　Judge　suggested。　None　of　them　had　ever　seen　the　President　angry。　It　was；　for　the　most　part；　something　people　tried　to　avoid。
　　　〃So；　Jack　was　right？〃　Greer　offered。
　　　〃He　might　have　made　a　good　guess。　But　he　didn't　stop　it　from　happening；　either；〃　Ritter　observed。
　　　〃Well；　it　gives　you　something　to　say；　Arthur；〃　Greer　said；　with　a　little　hope　in　his　voice。
　　　〃Maybe　so。　I　wonder　how　good　Italian　doctors　are。〃
　　　〃What　do　we　know？〃　Greer　asked。　〃Anything？〃
　　　〃One　serious　bullet　wound　in　the　chest。　The　President　ought　to　be　able　to　identify　with　that；〃　Moore　thought　out　loud。　〃Two　other　hits；　but　not　serious　ones。〃
　　　〃So；　call　Charlie　Weathers　up　at　Harvard　and　ask　him　what　the　likely　prognosis　is。〃　This　was　from　Ritter。
　　　〃The　President's　already　talked　to　the　meatball　surgeons　at　Walter　Reed。　They're　hopeful　but　nonmittal。〃
　　　〃I'm　sure　they　all　say；　'If　I　was　on　it；　it'd　be　okay。'　〃　Greer　had　experience　with　military　doctors。　Fighter　pilots　were　shrinking　violets　next　to　battlefield　surgeons。
　　　〃I'm　going　to　call　Basil　and　have　the　Rabbit　flown　here　as　soon　as　the　Air　Force　can　get　a　plane　ready。　If　Ryan's　available…they　ought　to　be　flying　him　back　from　Rome　right　now；　if　I　know　Basil…I　want　him　on　the　aircraft；　too。〃
　　　〃Why？〃　Ritter　asked。
　　　〃So　he　can　brief　us…maybe　the　President；　too…on　his　threat　analysis　prior　to　the　event。〃
　　　〃Christ；　Arthur。〃　Greer　nearly　exploded。　〃They　told　us　about　the　threat　four；　five　days　ago。〃
　　　〃But　we　wanted　to　interview　the　guy　ourselves；〃　Moore　acknowledged。　〃I　know；　James；　I　know。〃
　　　Ryan　followed　Mick　King　off　the　airliner。　At　the　bottom　of　the　steps　was　somebody　who　had　to　be　from　Century　House。　Ryan　saw　that　the　man　was　staring　right　at　him。
　　　〃Dr。　Ryan；　could　you　e　with　me；　please？　We'll　have　a　man　get　your　bags；〃　the　fellow　promised。
　　　〃Where　now？〃
　　　〃We　have　a　helicopter　to　take　you　to　RAF　Mildenhall；　and…〃
　　　〃My　ass。　I　don't　do　helicopters　since　one　nearly　killed　me。　How　far　is　it？〃
　　　〃An　hour　and　a　half's　drive。〃
　　　〃Good。　Get　a　car；〃　Jack　ordered。　Then　he　turned。　〃Thanks　for　the　try；　guys。〃　Sparrow；　King；　and　the　rest　shook　his　hand。　They　had　indeed　all　tried；　even　though　no　one　would　ever　know　about　their　effort。　Then　Jack　wondered　what　Tom　Sharp　would　be　doing　with　Strokov；　and　decided　that　Mick　King　was　right。　He　really　didn't　want　to　know。
　　　RAF　Mildenhall　is　just　north　of　Cambridge；　the　home　of　one　of　the　world's　great　universities；　and　Ryan's　driver　was　in　another　Jaguar；　and　didn't　much　care　about　whatever　speed　limits　there　were　on　British　roads。　When　they　pulled　past　the　RAF　Ground　Defense　Regiment's　security　troops；　the　car　didn't　go　to　the　aircraft　waiting　there　on　the　ramp；　but　rather　to　a　low　building　that　looked　like…and　was…a　VIP　terminal。　There；　a　man　handed　Ryan　a　telex　that　took　about　twenty　seconds　to　read　and　resulted　in　a　muttered　〃Great。〃　Then　Jack　found　a　phone　and　called　home。
　　　〃Jack？〃　his　wife　said　when　she　recognized　his　voice。　〃Where　the　hell　are　you？〃　She　must　have　been　exercised。　Cathy　Ryan　didn't　ordinarily　talk　like　that。
　　　〃I'm　at　RAF　Mildenhall。　I　have　to　fly　back　to　Washington。〃
　　　〃Why？〃
　　　〃Let　me　ask　you　this；　honey：　How　good　are　Italian　doctors？〃
　　　〃You　mean…the　Pope？〃
　　　〃Yep。〃　She　couldn't　see　his　tired　but　curt　nod。
　　　〃Every　country　has　good　surgeons…Jack；　what's　going　on？　Were　you　there？〃
　　　〃Cath；　I　was　about　forty　feet　away；　but　I　can't　tell　you　any　more　than　that；　and　you　can't　repeat　it　to　anybody；　okay？〃
　　　〃Okay；〃　she　replied；　with　wonder　and　frustration　in　her　voice。　〃When　will　you　be　home？〃
　　　〃Probably　in　a　couple　of　days。　I　have　to　talk　to　some　people　at　headquarters；　and　they'll　probably　send　me　right　back。　Sorry；　babe。　Business。　So；　how　good　are　the　docs　in　Italy？〃
　　　〃I'd　feel　better　if　Jack　Cammer　was　working　on　him；　but　they　have　to　have　some　good　ones。　Every　big　city　does。　The　University　of　Padua　i