tc.redrabbit-第47部分

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　　　Foley's　highly　trained　senses　had　failed　him。　With　his　coat　loose　about　him；　he　hadn't　noticed　any　touch；　except　for　the　usual　bumps　associated　with　the　subway；　whether　in　Moscow　or　New　York。　But　as　he　made　his　way　off　the　train；　he　stuck　his　left　hand　into　the　left…side　pocket；　and　there　was　something　there；　and　he　knew　that　it　wasn't　something　he'd　placed　there　himself。　A　quizzical　look　crossed　his　face；　which　his　training　quickly　erased。　He　succumbed　to　the　temptation　to　look　around　for　a　tail；　but　instantly　realized　that；　given　his　regular　schedule；　there'd　be　a　fresh　face　here　on　the　surface　to　track　him；　or　most　likely　a　series　of　cameras　atop　the　surrounding　buildings。　Movie　film　was　as　cheap　here　as　everywhere　else　in　the　world。　And　so　he　walked　home；　just　as　on　any　other　day；　nodded　at　the　guard　at　the　gate；　and　then　made　his　way　into　the　elevator；　then　through　the　door。
　　　〃I'm　home；　honey；〃　Ed　Foley　announced；　taking　out　the　paper　only　after　the　door　was　closed。　He　was　reasonably　certain　that　there　were　no　cameras　in　the　apartment…even　American　technology　wasn't　that　far　along　yet；　and　he'd　seen　enough　of　Moscow　to　be　unimpressed　with　their　technical　capabilities。　His　fingers　unfolded　the　paper；　and　then　he　stopped　cold　in　his　tracks。
　　　〃What's　for　dinner？〃　he　called　out。
　　　〃e　and　see；　Ed。〃　Mary　Pat's　voice　came　from　the　kitchen。
　　　Hamburgers　were　sizzling　on　the　stove。　Mashed　potatoes　and　gravy；　plus　baked　beans；　your　basic　American　working…class　dinner。　But　the　bread　was　Russian；　and　that　wasn't　bad。　Little　Eddie　was　in　front　of　the　TV；　watching　a　Transformers　tape；　which　would　keep　him　occupied　for　the　next　twenty　minutes。
　　　〃Anything　interesting　happen　today？〃　Mary　Pat　asked　from　the　stove。　She　turned　for　her　kiss；　and　her　husband　replied　with　their　personal　code　phrase　for　the　unusual。
　　　〃Not　a　thing；　baby。〃　That　piqued　her　interest　enough　that　when　he　held　up　the　sheet　of　paper；　she　took　it；　and　her　eyes　went　wide。
　　　It　wasn't　so　much　the　handwritten　message　as　the　printed　header：　STATE　SECURITY　OFFICIAL　MUNICATION。
　　　Damn。　His　wife's　lips　mouthed　the　word。
　　　The　Moscow　COS　nodded　thoughtfully。
　　　〃Can　you　watch　the　burgers；　honey？　I　have　to　get　something。〃
　　　Ed　took　the　spatula　and　flipped　one　over。　His　wife　was　back　quickly；　holding　a　kelly　green　tie。
　　　
　　　CHAPTER　11　…　HAND　JIVE
　　　Of　course；　there　was　little　to　be　done　at　the　moment。　Dinner　was　served　and　eaten；　and　Eddie　went　back　to　his　VCR　and　cartoon　tapes。　Four…year…olds　were　easy　to　please；　even　in　Moscow。　His　parents　got　down　to　business。　Years　ago；　they'd　seen　The　Miracle　Worker　on　TV；　in　which　Annie　Sullivan　（Anne　Bancroft）　taught　Helen　Keller　（Patty　Duke）　the　use　of　the　manual　alphabet；　and　they'd　decided　it　was　a　useful　skill　to　learn　as　a　means　of　municating　not　quickly　but　quietly　and　with　their　own　shorthand。
　　　W＇ell＇；　what　do　＇yo＇u　think？　Ed　asked　Mary。
　　　This　could　b＇e＇　pretty　h＇ot＇；　his　wife　replied。
　　　Y＇ep＇。
　　　Ed；　this　guy　works　in　MERCURY；　th＇eir＇　version　anyway！　Wow！
　　　More　likely　he　just　has　access　to　their　mess＇age＇　forms；　the　Chief　of　Station　cautioned　slowly。　But　I'll　wear　the　green　tie　and　take　the　same　subway　train　for　the　next　w＇eek＇　or　so。
　　　FAB；　his　wife　agreed；　which　was　shorthand　for　Fuckin'　A；　Bubba！
　　　Hope　it　isn't　a　trap　or　a　false…flag；　Ed　observed。
　　　Part　of　the　terr＇itory＇；　h＇oney＇；　MP　responded。　The　thought　of　being　burned　didn't　frighten　her；　though　she　didn't　want　to　suffer　the　embarrassment。　She　looked　for　opportunities　more　than　her　husband　did…he　worried　more。　But；　strangely；　not　this　time。　If　the　Russians　had　〃made〃　him　as　the　Chief　of　Station　or　even　just　as　a　field　spook…not　likely；　Ed　thought…they'd　be　total　idiots　to　burn　him　like　this；　not　this　fast　and　not　this　amateurishly。　Unless　they　were　trying　to　make　some　sort　of　political　point；　and　he　couldn't　see　the　logic　of　that…and　the　KBG　was　as　coldly　logical　as　Mr。　Spock　ever　was　on　planet　Vulcan。　Even　the　FBI　wouldn't　play　this　loose　a　game。　So　this　opportunity　had　to　be　real；　unless　KGB　was　shaking　down　every　embassy　employee　it　could；　just　to　see　what　might　fall　off　the　tree。　Possible；　but　damned　unlikely；　and　therefore　worth　the　gamble；　Foley　judged。　He'd　wear　the　green　tie　and　see　what　happened；　and　be　damned　careful　to　check　all　the　faces　on　the　subway　car。
　　　Tell　L＇angley＇？　Mary　asked　next。
　　　He　just　shook　his　head。　2　early　4　that。
　　　She　nodded　agreement。　Next；　Mary　Pat　mimed　riding　a　horse。　That　meant　that　there　was　a　chase　and　they　were　really　in　the　game；　finally。　It　was　as　though　she　were　afraid　that　her　skills　were　going　stale。　Damned　little　chance　of　that；　her　husband　thought。　He　was　willing　to　bet　that　his　wife　had　gone　all　the　way　through　parochial　school　without　a　single　rap　on　the　knuckles；　because　the　sisters　had　never　once　caught　her　misbehaving。。。
　　　And；　for　that　matter；　Ed　reflected；　neither　had　he。
　　　W＇ell＇；　tomor＇row＇　will　be　inter＇esting＇；　he　told　her；　getting　a　sexy　nod　as　a　reply。
　　　The　hard　part　for　the　rest　of　the　evening　was　not　dwelling　on　the　opportunity。　Even　with　their　training；　their　thoughts　kept　ing　back　to　the　idea　of　working　an　agent　in　the　Russian　MERCURY。　It　was　a　conceptual　homer　in　the　bottom　of　the　ninth　in　the　seventh　game　of　the　World　Series…Reggie　Jackson　Foley　as　Mister　October。
　　　Damn。
　　　〃So；　Simon；　what　do　we　really　know　about　the　guy？〃
　　　〃Not　all　that　much　on　the　personal　level；〃　Harding　admitted。　〃He's　a　Party　man　first；　last；　and　always。　His　horizons　have　been　broadened；　I　suppose；　from　his　chairmanship　of　KGB。　There's　talk　that　he　prefers　Western　liquor　to　his　own　vodka；　and　stories　that　he　enjoys　American　jazz；　but　those　could　be　stories　floated　in…house　by　The　Centre　to　help　him　appear　amenable　to　the　West…not　bloody　likely；　in　my　humble　opinion。　The　man　is　a　thug。　His　Party　record　is　not　one　of　gentleness。　One　doesn't　advance　in　that　organization　except　by　toughness…and　remarkably　often　the　highflyers　are　men　who　have　crushed　their　own　mentors　along　the　way。　It's　a　Darwinian　organization　gone　mad；　Jack。　The　fittest　survive；　but　they　prove　themselves　to　be　the　fittest　by　smashing　those　who　are　a　threat　to　them；　or　merely　smashing　people　to　prove　their　own　ruthlessness　in　the　arena　they've　chosen。〃
　　　〃How　smart　is　he？〃　Ryan　asked　next。
　　　Another　draw　on　the　briar　pipe。　〃He's　no　fool。　Highly　developed　sense　of　human　nature；　probably　a　good…even　a　brilliant…amateur　psychologist。〃
　　　〃You　haven't　pared　him　to　someone　from　Tolstoy　or　Chekhov；〃　Jack　noted。　Simon　was　a　lit　major；　after　all。
　　　Harding　dismissed　the　thought。　〃Too　easy　to　do　so。　No；　people　like　him　most　often　do　not　appear　in　literature；　because　novelists　lack　the　requisite　imagination。　There　was　no　warning　of　a　Hitler　in　German　literature；　Jack。　Stalin　evidently　thought　himself　another　Ivan　the　Terrible；　and　Sergei　Eisenstein　played　along　with　his　epic　movie　about　the　chap；　but　that　sort　of　thing　is　only　for　those　without　the　imagination　to　see　people　as　they　are　instead　of　being　like　someone　else　they　understand。　No；　Stalin　was　a　plex　and　fundamentally　inprehensible　monster；　unless　you　have　psychiatric　credentials。　I　do　not；〃　Harding　reminded　him。　〃One　need　not　understand　them　fully　to　predict　their　actions；　because　such　people　are　rational　within　their　own　context。　One　need　only　understand　that；　or　so　I　have　always　believed。〃
　　　〃Sometimes　I　think　I　ought　to　get　Cathy　involved　in　this　work。〃
　　　〃Because　she's　a　physician？〃　Harding　asked。
　　　Ryan　nodded。　〃Yeah；　she's　pretty　good　reading　people。　That's　why　we　had　the　docs　report　in　on　Mikhail　Suslov。　None　of　them　were　pshrinks；〃　Jack　reminded　his　workmate。
　　　〃So；　no；　we　know　remarkably　little　on　Andropov's　personal　life；〃　Harding　admitted。　〃No　one's　ever　been　tasked　to　delve　too　deeply　into　it。　If　he　gets　elevated　to　the　General…Secretaryship；　I　imagine　his　wife　will　bee　a　semipublic　figure。　In　any　case；　there's　no　reason　to　think　him　a　homosexual　or　anything　like　that。　They　are　quite　intolerant　of　that　aberration　over　there；　you　know。　Some　colleague　would　have　used　it　against　him　along　the　way　and　wrecked　his　career　for　fair。　No；　the　closet　they　live　in　within　the　Soviet　Union　is　a　very　deep　one。　Better　to　be　celibate；〃　the　analyst　concluded。
　　　Okay；　Ryan　thought；　I'll　call　the　Admiral　tonight　and　tell　him　that　the　Brits　don't　know；　either。　It　was　strangely　disappointing；　but　somehow　predictable。　For　all　that　the　intelligence　services　knew；　the　frequency　of　holes　in　their　knowledge　was　often　surprising　to　the　outsiders；　but　not　so　to　those　on　the　inside。　Ryan　was　still　new　enough　at　the　game　to　be　surprised　and　disappointed。　A　married　man　would　be　used　to　promise；　to　letting　his　wife　have　her　way　on　all　manner　of　things；　because　every　married　man　is　pussy…whipped　to　one　extent　or　another…unless　he　is　a　total　thug；　and　few　people　fit　into　that　category。　Fewer　still　could　rise　up　any　hierarchy　that　way；　because　in　any　organization　you　had　to　go　along　in　order　to　get　along。　That　was　human　nature；　and　even　the　munist　Party　of　the　Soviet　Union　couldn't　repeal　that；　for　all　their　talk　about　the　New　Soviet　Man　that　they　kept　trying　to　build　over　there。　Yeah；　Ryan　thought；　sure。
　　　〃Well；〃　Harding　said；　checking　his　watch；　〃I　think　we've　ser