tc.redrabbit-第33部分

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　　　There　were　street　vendors　here；　though；　selling　ice　cream；　and　she　bought　one　for　little　Eddie；　whose　eyes　were　taking　it　all　in。　It　troubled　her　conscience　to　inflict　this　place　and　this　mission　on　her　son；　but　he　was　only　four　and　it　would　be　a　good　learning　experience　for　him。　At　least　he'd　grow　up　bilingual。　He'd　also　learn　to　appreciate　his　country　more　than　most　American　kids；　and　that；　she　thought；　was　a　good　thing。　So；　she　had　a　tail。　How　good　was　he？　Perhaps　it　was　time　to　find　out。　She　reached　into　her　purse　and　surreptitiously　removed　a　length　of　paper　tape。　It　was　red　in　color；　a　bright　red。　Turning　a　corner；　she　stuck　it　to　a　lamppost　in　a　gesture　so　casual　as　to　be　invisible　and　kept　going。　Then；　fifty　yards　down　the　new　block；　she　turned　to　look　back　as　though　lost。。。　and　she　saw　him　walk　right　past　that　lamppost。　So　he　hadn't　seen　her　leave　the　flag　signal。　Had　he　seen　her；　he　would　at　least　have　looked。。。　and　he　was　the　only　one　following　her；　her　route　had　been　so　randomly　chosen　that　there　wouldn't　be　anyone　else　assigned　to　her；　unless　there　was　a　really　major　surveillance　effort　applied　to　her；　and　that　didn't　seem　likely。　She'd　never　been　blown　on　any　of　her　field　assignments。　She　remembered　every　single　moment　of　her　training　at　The　Farm　in　Tidewater；　Virginia。　She'd　been　at　the　top　of　her　class；　and　she　knew　she　was　good…and　better　still；　she　knew　that　you　were　never　so　good　that　you　could　forget　to　be　careful。　But　as　long　as　you　were　careful；　you　could　ride　any　horse。　Grandfather　Vanya　had　taught　her　to　ride；　too。
　　　She　and　little　Eddie　would　have　many　adventures　in　this　city；　Mary　Pat　thought。　She'd　let　it　wait　until　the　KGB　got　tired　of　hanging　a　shadow　on　her；　and　then　she　could　really　cut　loose。　She　wondered　whom　she　might　recruit　to　work　for　CIA；　in　addition　to　running　the　established　agents…in…place。　Yeah；　she　was　in　the　belly　of　the　beast；　all　right；　and　her　job　was　to　give　the　son　of　a　bitch　a　bleeding　ulcer。
　　　〃Very　well；　Aleksey　Nikolay'ch；　you　know　the　man；〃　Andropov　said。　〃What　do　I　tell　him　now？〃
　　　It　was　a　sign　of　the　Chairman's　intelligence　that　he　didn't　lash　out　with　a　scorching　reply；　to　put　the　Rome　rezident　back　in　his　place。　Only　a　fool　stomped　on　his　senior　subordinates。
　　　〃He　asks　for　guidance…the　scope　of　the　operation　and　so　forth。　We　should　give　it　to　him。　This　brings　into　question　exactly　what　you　are　contemplating；　rade　Chairman。　Have　you　thought　it　through　to　that　point？〃
　　　〃Very　well；　Colonel；　what　do　you　think　we　should　do？〃
　　　〃rade　Chairman；　there　is　an　expression　the　Americans　use　which　I　have　learned　to　respect：　That　is　above　my　pay　grade。〃
　　　〃Are　you　telling　me　that　you　do　not　play　Chairman　yourself…in　your　own　mind？〃　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　asked；　rather　pointedly。
　　　〃Honestly；　no；　I　limit　my　thinking　to　that　which　I　understand…operational　questions。　I　am　not　petent　to　trespass　into　high　political　confines；　rade。〃
　　　A　clever　answer；　if　not　a　truthful　one；　Andropov　noted。　But　Rozhdestvenskiy　would　be　unable　to　discuss　whatever　high…level　thoughts　he　might　have；　because　no　one　else　at　KGB　was　cleared　to　discuss　such　things。　Now；　he　might　be　interviewed　by　some　very　senior　member　of　the　Party's　Central　mittee；　on　orders　from　the　Politburo；　but　such　an　order　would　almost　have　to　e　from　Brezhnev　himself。　And　that；　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　thought；　was　not　likely　at　this　time。　So；　yes；　the　colonel　would　think　about　it　in　the　privacy　of　his　own　mind；　as　all　subordinates　did；　but　as　a　professional　KGB　officer；　rather　than　a　Party　flack；　he　would　leave　such　thoughts　right　there。
　　　〃Very　well；　we　will　dispense　with　the　political　considerations　entirely。　Consider　this　a　theoretical　question：　How　would　one　kill　this　priest？〃
　　　Rozhdestvenskiy　looked　uneasy。
　　　〃Sit；〃　the　Chairman　told　his　subordinate。　〃You　have　planned　plex　operations　before。　Take　your　time　to　walk　through　this　one。〃
　　　Rozhdestvenskiy　took　his　seat　before　speaking。　〃First　of　all；　I　would　ask　for　assistance　from　someone　better…versed　in　such　things。　We　have　several　such　officers　here　in　The　Centre。　But。。。　since　you　ask　me　to　think　about　it　in　theoretical　terms。。。〃　The　colonel's　voice　trailed　off　and　his　eyes　went　up　and　to　the　left。　When　he　started　speaking　again；　his　words　came　slowly。
　　　〃First　of　all；　we　would　use　Goderenko's　station　only　for　information…reconnaissance　of　the　target；　that　sort　of　thing。　We　would　not　want　to　use　Station　Rome's　people　in　any　active　way。。。　In　fact；　I　would　advise　against　using　Soviet　personnel　at　all　for　the　active　parts　of　the　operation。〃
　　　〃Why？〃　Andropov　asked。
　　　〃The　Italian　police　are　professionally　trained；　and　for　an　investigation　of　this　magnitude；　they　would　throw　people　into　it；　assign　their　very　best　men。　At　any　event　like　this；　there　will　be　witnesses。　Everyone　on　earth　has　two　eyes　and　a　memory。　Some　have　intelligence。　That　sort　of　thing　cannot　be　predicted。　While　on　the　one　hand；　this　militates　in　favor　of；　let　us　say；　a　sniper　and　a　long…range　shot；　such　a　methodology　would　point　to　a　state…level　operation。　Such　a　sniper　would　have　to　be　well…trained　and　properly　equipped。　That　would　mean　a　soldier。　A　soldier　means　an　army。　An　army　means　a　nation…state…and　which　nation…state　would　wish　to　kill　the　Pope？〃　Colonel　Rozhdestvenskiy　asked。　〃A　truly　black　operation　cannot　be　traced　back　to　its　point　of　origin。〃
　　　Andropov　lit　a　cigarette　and　nodded。　He'd　chosen　well。　This　colonel　was　no　man's　fool。　〃Go　on。〃
　　　〃Ideally；　the　shooter　would　have　no　ties　whatsoever　to　the　Soviet　Union。　We　must　be　sure　of　that　because　we　cannot　ignore　the　possibility　that　he　will　be　arrested。　If　he　is　arrested；　he　will　be　questioned。　Most　men　talk　under　questioning；　either　for　psychological　or　physical　reasons。〃　Rozhdestvenskiy　reached　into　his　pocket　and　pulled　out　his　own　cigarette。　〃I　remember　reading　about　a　Mafia　killing　in　America。。。〃　Again；　the　voice　tailed　off　and　his　eyes　fixed　on　the　far　wall　while　examining　something　in　the　past。
　　　〃Yes？〃　the　Chairman　prompted。
　　　〃A　killing　in　New　York　City。　One　of　their　senior　people　was　at　odds　with　his　peers；　and　they　decided　to　not　merely　kill　him；　but　to　do　so　with　some　degree　of　ignominy。　They　had　him　killed　by　a　black　man。　To　the　Mafia；　that　is　particularly　disgraceful；〃　Rozhdestvenskiy　explained。　〃In　any　case；　the　shooter　was　immediately　thereafter　killed　by　another　man；　presumably　a　Mafia　assassin　who　then　made　a　successful　escape…no　doubt　he　had　assistance；　which　proves　that　it　was　a　carefully　planned　exercise。　The　crime　was　never　solved。　It　was　a　perfect　technical　exercise。　The　target　was　killed　and　so　was　the　assassin。　The　true　killers…those　who　had　planned　the　exercise…acplished　their　mission；　and　gained　prestige　within　their　organization；　but　were　never　punished　for　it。〃
　　　〃Criminal　thugs；〃　Andropov　snorted。
　　　〃Yes；　rade　Chairman；　but　a　properly　carried…out　mission　is　worthy　of　study；　even　so。　It　does　not　pletely　apply　to　our　task　at　hand；　because　it　was　supposed　to　look　like　a　well…executed　Mafia　murder。　But　the　shooter　got　close　to　his　target　because　he　was　manifestly　not　a　member　of　a　Mafia　gang　and　could　not　later　implicate　or　identify　those　who　paid　him　to　mit　the　act。　That　is　precisely　what　we　would　wish　to　achieve。　Of　course；　we　cannot　copy　this　operation　in　full…for　example；　killing　off　our　shooter　would　point　directly　to　us。　This　cannot　be　like　the　elimination　of　Leon　Trotsky。　In　that　case；　the　origin　of　the　operation　was　not　really　concealed。　As　with　the　Mafia　killing　I　just　cited；　it　was　supposed　to　be　something　of　a　public　announcement。〃　That　a　Soviet　state　action　was　a　direct　parallel　to　this　New　York　City　gangster　rubout　did　not　need　much　elaboration　in　Rozhdestvenskiy's　eyes。　But　in　his　operational　brain；　the　Trotsky　killing　and　the　Mafia　assassination　were　an　interesting　confluence　of　tactics　and　objectives。
　　　〃rade；　I　need　some　time　to　consider　this　fully。〃
　　　〃I'll　give　you　two　hours；〃　Chairman　Andropov　responded　generously。
　　　Rozhdestvenskiy　stood；　came　to　attention；　and　walked　out　through　the　clothes　dresser　into　the　secretary's　room。
　　　Rozhdestvenskiy's　own　office　was　small；　of　course；　but　it　was　private　and　on　the　same　floor　as　the　Chairman's。　A　window　overlooked　Dzerzhinskiy　Square；　with　all　its　traffic　and　the　statue　of　Iron　Feliks。　His　swivel　chair　was　fortable；　and　his　desk　had　three　telephones　because　the　Soviet　Union　had　somehow　failed　to　master　multiline　phones。　He　had　a　typewriter　of　his　own；　which　he　rarely　used；　preferring　to　have　a　secretary　e　in　from　the　executive　pool。　There　was　talk　that　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　used　one　of　them　for　something　other　than　taking　dicta　tion；　but　Rozhdestvenskiy　did　not　believe　it。　The　Chairman　was　too　much　of　an　aesthete　for　that。　Corruption　just　wasn't　his　way；　which　appealed　to　him。　It　was　hard　to　feel　loyal　to　a　man　such　as　Brezhnev。　Rozhdestvenskiy　took　the　Sword　and　Shield　motto　of　his　agency　seriously。　It　was　his　job　to　protect　his　country　and　its　people；　and　they　needed　protecting…sometimes　from　the　members　of　their　own　Politburo。
　　　But　why　did　they　need　protection　from　this　priest？　he　asked　himself。
　　　He　shook　his　head　and　applied　his　mind　to　the　exercise。　He　tended　to　think　with　his　eyes　open；　examining　his　thoughts　like　a　film　on