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 booze for themselves; but to Ryan's Catholic measure of personal conduct; these were venial sins; not mortal。
   The usual muddle of thoughts in a fatigued brain; he recognized。 Cathy would never allow herself to operate in this mental state。 Sure; as an intern they'd kept her on duty for endless hours…the idea being to get her accustomed to making good decisions under miserable circumstances…but part of her husband wondered how many patients were sacrificed on the altar of medical boot camp。 If trial lawyers ever managed to figure out how to make money off of that。。。
   Cathy…Dr。 Caroline Ryan; M。D。; FACS; her white lab coat and plastic name tag announced…had struggled through that phase of her training; and more than once her husband had worried about her drive home in her little Porsche sports car; after thirty…six straight hours on duty in obstetrics; or pediatrics; or general surgery; fields she wasn't interested in herself; but about which she had to know a little in order to be a proper Johns Hopkins doc。 Well; she'd known enough to patch up his shoulder that afternoon in front of Buckingham Palace。 He hadn't bled to death in front of his wife and daughter; which would have been pretty ignominious for everyone involved; especially the Brits。 Would my knighthood have been awarded posthumously? he wondered with a stifled chuckle。 Then; finally; his eyes closed for the first time in thirty…nine hours。
   〃I hope he likes it over there;〃 Judge Moore said; at his end…of…the…day senior staff get…together。
   〃Arthur; our cousins know their hospitality;〃 James Greer pointed out。 〃Basil ought to be a good teacher。〃
   Ritter didn't say anything。 This Ryan amateur had gotten himself a lot of…way the hell too much…publicity for any employee of the CIA; even more so since he was a DI guy。 As far as Ritter was concerned; the Directorate of Intelligence was the tail wagging the Operations Directorate dog。 Sure; Jim Greer was a fine spook and a good man to work with; but he wasn't a field spook; and…Congress to the contrary…that's what the Agency needed。 At least Arthur Moore understood that。 But on The Hill; if you said 〃field intelligence officer〃 to the representatives who controlled appropriations; they recoiled like Dracula from a golden crucifix and collectively went ewwww Then it was time to speak。
   〃What do you suppose they'll let him in on?〃 the DDO wondered aloud。
   〃Basil will regard him as my personal representative;〃 Judge Moore said; after a moment's consideration。 〃So; everything they share with us; they will share with him。〃
   〃They're going to co…opt him; Arthur;〃 Ritter warned。 〃He's into things they don't know about。 They will try to squeeze things out of Ryan。 He doesn't know how to defend against that。〃
   〃Bob; I briefed him on that myself;〃 Greer announced。 The DDO knew that already; of course; but Ritter had a real talent for acting grumpy when he didn't get his way。 Greer wondered what it had been like to be Bob's mother。 〃Don't underestimate this kid; Bob。 He's smart。 I'll wager you a steak dinner that he gets more things out of the Brits than they get out of him。〃
   〃Sucker bet;〃 the Deputy Director (Operations) snorted。
   〃At Snyder's;〃 the Deputy Director (Intelligence) goaded further。 It was the favorite steak house for both executives; located just across the Key Bridge in Georgetown。
   Judge Arthur Moore; the Director of Central Intelligence; or DCI; watched the exchange with amusement。 Greer knew how to twist Ritter's tail; and somehow Bob never quite figured out how to defend against it。 Maybe it was Greer's down…east accent。 Texans like Bob Ritter (and Arthur Moore himself) deemed themselves superior to anyone who talked through his nose; certainly over a deck of playing cards or around a bottle of bourbon whiskey。 The Judge figured he was above such things; though they were fun to watch。
   〃Okay; dinner at Snyder's。〃 Ritter extended his hand。 And it was time for the DCI to resume control of the meeting。
   〃Now that we've settled that one; gentlemen; the President wants me to tell him what's going to happen in Poland。〃
   Ritter didn't leap at that。 He had a good Station Chief in Warsaw; but the guy only had three proper field officers in his department; and one of them was a rookie。 They did; however; have one very good source agent…in…place inside the Warsaw government's political hierarchy; and several good ones in their military。
   〃Arthur; they don't know。 They're dancing around this Solidarity thing on a day…to…day basis;〃 the DDO told the others。 〃And the music keeps changing on them。〃
   〃It's going to e down to what Moscow tells them to do; Arthur;〃 Greer agreed。 〃And Moscow doesn't know either。〃
   Moore took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes。 〃Yeah。 They don't know what to do when someone openly defies them。 Joe Stalin would have shot everyone in sight; but the current bunch doesn't have the gumption to do that; thank the Good Lord for that。〃
   〃Collegial rule brings out the coward in everyone; and Brezhnev just doesn't have the ability to lead。 From what I hear; they have to walk him to the men's room。〃 It was a slight exaggeration; but it appealed to Ritter that Soviet leadership was softening。
   〃What's CARDINAL telling us?〃 Moore referred to the Agency's premiere agent…in…place in the Kremlin; the personal assistant to Defense Minister Dmitriy Fedorovich Ustinov。 His name was Mikhail Semyonovich Filitov; but to all but a bare handful of active CIA personnel; he was simply CARDINAL。
   〃He says that Ustinov despairs of anything useful ing out of the Politburo until they do have a leader who can actually lead。 Leonid is slowing down。 Everybody knows it; even the man on the street。 You can't camouflage a TV picture; can you?〃
   〃How long do you suppose he has left?〃
   A collection of shrugs; then Greer took the question: 〃The doctors I've talked to say he could drop over tomorrow; or he could dote along for another couple of years。 They say they see mild Alzheimer's; but only mild。 His general condition is progressive cardiovascular myopathy; they think; probably exacerbated by incipient alcoholism。〃
   〃They all have that problem;〃 Ritter observed。 〃CARDINAL confirms the heart problem; by the way; along with the vodka。〃
   〃And the liver is important; and his is probably suboptimum;〃 Greer went on; with a gross understatement。 Then Moore finished the thought。
   〃But you can't tell a Russian to stop drinking any more than you can tell a grizzly bear not to shit in the woods。 You know; if anything ever brings these guys down; it will be their inability to handle the orderly transition of power。〃
   〃Well; gee; Your Honor。〃 Bob Ritter looked up with a wicked grin。 〃I guess they just don't have enough lawyers。 Maybe we could ship them a hundred thousand of ours。〃
   〃They're not that stupid。 Better we shoot a few Poseidon missiles at them。 Less net damage to their society;〃 the DDI said。
   〃Why do people disparage my honorable profession?〃 Moore asked the ceiling。 〃If anybody saves their system; it will have to be a lawyer; gentlemen。〃
   〃You think so; Arthur?〃 Greer asked。
   〃You can't have a rational society without the rule of law; and you can't have the rule of law without lawyers to administer it。〃 Moore was the former Chief Judge of the Texas State Court of Appeals。 〃They don't have those rules yet; not when the Politburo can reach out and execute anyone they don't like without a semblance of an appeals process。 It must be like living in hell。 You can't depend on anything。 It's like Rome under Caligula…if he got a notion; that notion had the force of law。 Hell; though; even Rome had some laws the emperors had to abide by。 Not our Russian friends。〃 The others couldn't really appreciate how horrid a concept that was to their Director。 He'd once been the finest trial lawyer in a state noted for the quality of its legal munity; and then a learned judge on a bench replete with thoughtful; fair men。 Most Americans were as accustomed to the rule of law as to the ninety feet between bases on a baseball diamond。 For Ritter and Greer; it was more important that; before his legal career; Arthur Moore had been a superior field spook。 〃So; what the hell do I tell the President?〃
   〃The truth; Arthur;〃 Greer suggested。 〃We don't know because they don't know。〃
   That was the only truthful and rational thing he could say; of course; but: 〃Damn it; Jim; they pay us to know!〃
   〃It es down to how threatened the Russians feel。 Poland is just a cat's paw for them; a vassal state that jumps when they say 'jump;' 〃 Greer said。 〃The Russians can control what their own people see on TV and in Pravda…〃
   〃But they can't control the rumors that e across the border;〃 said Ritter。 〃And the stories their soldiers tell when they e home from service there…and in Germany; and in Czechoslovakia; and in Hungary; and what they hear on Voice of America and Radio Free Europe。〃 CIA controlled the first of those outlets directly; and; while the other was theoretically almost independent; that was a fiction nobody believed。 Ritter himself had a great deal of input on both propaganda arms of the American government。 The Russians understood and respected good agitprop。

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