tc.patriotgames-第1部分

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Chapter　1　A　Sunny　Day　in　Londontown 3
Chapter　2　Cops　and　Royals 14
Chapter　3　Flowers　and　Families 37
Chapter　4　Players 53
Chapter　5　Perqs　and　Plots 67
Chapter　6　Trials　and　Troubles 80
Chapter　7　Speedbird　Home 101
Chapter　8　Information 115
Chapter　9　A　Day　for　Celebration 130
Chapter　10　Plans　and　Threats 146
Chapter　11　Warnings 156
Chapter　12　Homeing 172
Chapter　13　Visitors 187
Chapter　14　Second　Chances 198
Chapter　15　Shock　and　Trauma 221
Chapter　16　Objectives　and　Patriots 233
Chapter　17　Recriminations　and　Decisions 245
Chapter　18　Lights 257
Chapter　19　Tests　and　Passing　Grades 268
Chapter　20　Data 283
Chapter　21　Plans 294
Chapter　22　Procedures 308
Chapter　23　Movement 321
Chapter　24　Connections　Missed　and　Made 336
Chapter　25　Rendezvous 357
Chapter　26　The　Sound　of　Freedom 375
　



























When　bad　men　bine；　the　good　must　associate；else　
they　will　fall　one　by　one；　an　unpitied　sacrifice
　in　a　contemptible　struggle。
EDMUND　BURKE



　　　　Behind　all　the　political　rhetoric　being　hurled　at　us　from　abroad；　we　are　bringing　home　one　unassailable　fact　　＇terrorism　is＇　a　crime　by　any　civilized　standard；　mitted　against　innocent　people；　away　from　the　scene　of　political　conflict；　and　must　be　dealt　with　as　a　crime　。　。　。　
　　　　In　our　recognition　of　the　nature　of　terrorism　as　a　crime　lies　our　best　hope　of　dealing　with　it　。　。　。　
　　　　Let　us　use　the　tools　that　we　have。　Let　us　invoke　the　cooperation　we　have　the　right　to　expect　around　the　world；　and　with　that　cooperation　let　us　shrink　the　dark　and　dank　areas　of　sanctuary　until　these　cowardly　marauders　are　held　to　answer　as　criminals　in　an　open　and　public　trial　for　the　crimes　they　have　mitted；　and　receive　the　punishment　they　so　richly　deserve。

WILLIAM　H。　WEBSTER；　Director；　Federal　Bureau　of　Investigation；　October　15；1985





Chapter　1　A　Sunny　Day　in　Londontown

　　　　Ryan　was　nearly　killed　twice　in　half　an　hour。　He　left　the　taxi　a　few　blocks　short　of　his　destination。　It　was　a　fine；　clear　day；　the　sun　already　low　in　the　blue　sky。　Ryan　had　been　sitting　for　hours　in　a　series　of　straight…back　wooden　chairs；　and　he　wanted　to　walk　a　bit　to　work　the　kinks　out。　Traffic　was　relatively　light　on　the　streets　and　sidewalks。　That　surprised　him；　but　he　looked　forward　to　the　evening　rush　hour。　Clearly　these　streets　had　not　been　laid　out　with　automobiles　in　mind；　and　he　was　sure　that　the　afternoon　chaos　would　be　something　to　behold。　Jack's　first　impression　of　London　was　that　it　would　be　a　fine　town　to　walk　in；　and　he　moved　at　his　usual　brisk　pace；　unchanged　since　his　stint　in　the　Marine　Corps；　marking　time　unconsciously　by　tapping　the　edge　of　his　clipboard　against　his　leg。
　　　　Just　short　of　the　corner　the　traffic　disappeared；　and　he　moved　to　cross　the　street　early。　He　automatically　looked　left；　right；　then　left　again　as　he　had　since　childhood；　and　stepped　off　the　curb　…　
　　　　And　was　nearly　crushed　by　a　two…story　red　bus　that　screeched　past　him　with　a　bare　two　feet　to　spare。
　　　　〃Excuse　me；　sir。〃　Ryan　turned　to　see　a　police　officer　　they　call　them　constables　over　here；　he　reminded　himself　　in　uniform　plete　to　the　Mack　Sennett　hat。　〃Please　do　be　careful　and　cross　at　the　corners。　You　might　also　mind　the　painted　signs　on　the　pavement　to　look　right　or　left。　We　try　not　to　lose　too　many　tourists　to　the　traffic。〃
　〃How　do　you　know　I'm　a　tourist？〃　He　would　now；　from　Ryan's　accent。
　　　　The　cop　smiled　patiently。　〃Because　you　looked　the　wrong　way；　sir；　and　you　dress　like　an　American。　Please　be　careful；　sir。　Good　day。〃　The　bobby　moved　off　with　a　friendly　nod；　leaving　Ryan　to　wonder　what　there　was　about　his　brand…new　three…piece　suit　that　marked　him　as　an　American。
　　　　Chastened；　he　walked　to　the　corner。　Painted　lettering　on　the　blacktop　warned　him　to　LOOK　RIGHT；　along　with　an　arrow　for　the　dyslexic。　He　waited　for　the　light　to　change；　and　was　careful　to　stay　within　the　painted　lines。　Jack　remembered　that　he'd　have　to　pay　close　attention　to　the　traffic；　especially　when　he　rented　the　car　Friday。　England　was　one　of　the　last　places　in　the　world　where　the　people　drove　on　the　wrong　side　of　the　road。　He　was　sure　it　would　take　some　getting　used　to。
　　　　But　they　did　everything　else　well　enough；　he　thought　fortably；　already　drawing　universal　observations　one　day　into　his　first　trip　to　Britain。　Ryan　was　a　practiced　observer；　and　one　can　draw　many　conclusions　from　a　few　glances。　He　was　walking　in　a　business　and　professional　district。　The　other　people　on　the　sidewalk　were　better　dressed　than　their　American　counterparts　would　be　　aside　from　the　punkers　with　their　spiked　orange　and　purple　hair；　he　thought。　The　architecture　here　was　a　hodgepodge　ranging　from　Octavian　Augustus　to　Mies　van　der　Rohe；　but　most　of　the　buildings　had　an　old；　fortable　look　that　in　Washington　or　Baltimore　would　long　since　have　been　replaced　with　an　unbroken　row　of　new　and　soulless　glass　boxes。　Both　aspects　of　the　town　dovetailed　nicely　with　the　good　manners　he'd　encountered　so　far。　It　was　a　working　vacation　for　Ryan；　but　first　impressions　told　him　that　it　would　be　a　very　pleasant　one　nonetheless。
　　　　There　were　a　few　jarring　notes。　Many　people　seemed　to　be　carrying　umbrellas。　Ryan　had　been　careful　to　check　the　day's　weather　forecast　before　setting　out　on　his　research　trip。　A　fair　day　had　been　accurately　predicted　　in　fact　it　had　been　called　a　hot　day；　though　temperatures　were　only　in　the　upper　sixties。　A　warm　day　for　this　time　of　year；　to　be　sure；　but　〃hot〃？　Jack　wondered　if　they　called　it　Indian　summer　here。　Probably　not。　Why　the　umbrellas；　though？　Didn't　people　trust　the　local　weather　service？　Was　that　how　the　cop　knew　I　was　an　American？
　　　　Another　thing　he　ought　to　have　anticipated　was　the　plethora　of　Rolls…Royces　on　the　streets。　He　hadn't　seen　more　than　a　handful　in　his　entire　life；　and　while　the　streets　were　not　exactly　crowded　with　them；　there　were　quite　a　few。　He　himself　usually　drove　around　in　a　five…year…old　VW　Rabbit。　Ryan　stopped　at　a　newsstand　to　purchase　a　copy　of　The　Economist；　and　had　to　fumble　with　the　change　from　his　cab　fare　for　several　seconds　in　order　to　pay　the　patient　dealer；　who　doubtless　also　had　him　pegged　for　a　Yank。　He　paged　through　the　magazine　instead　of　watching　where　he　was　going　as　he　went　down　the　street；　and　presently　found　himself　halfway　down　the　wrong　block。　Ryan　stopped　dead　and　thought　back　to　the　city　map　he'd　inspected　before　leaving　the　hotel。　One　thing　Jack　could　not　do　was　remember　street　names；　but　he　had　a　photographic　memory　for　maps。　He　walked　to　the　end　of　the　block；　turned　left；　proceeded　two　blocks；　then　right；　and　sure　enough　there　was　St。　James's　Park。　Ryan　checked　his　watch；　he　was　fifteen　minutes　early。　It　was　downhill　past　the　monument　to　a　Duke　of　York；　and　he　crossed　the　street　near　a　longish　classical　building　of　white　marble。
　　　　Yet　another　pleasant　thing　about　London　was　the　profusion　of　green　spaces。　The　park　looked　big　enough；　and　he　could　see　that　the　grass　was　tended　with　care。　The　whole　autumn　must　have　been　unseasonably　warm。　The　trees　still　bore　plenty　of　leaves。　Not　many　people　around；　though。　Well；　he　shrugged；　it's　Wednesday。　Middle　of　the　week；　the　kids　were　all　in　school；　and　it　was　a　normal　business　day。　So　much　the　better；　he　thought。　He'd　deliberately　e　over　after　the　tourist　season。　Ryan　did　not　like　crowds。　The　Marine　Corps　had　taught　him　that；　too。
　　　　〃Daddee！〃　Ryan's　head　snapped　around　to　see　his　little　daughter　running　toward　him　from　behind　a　tree；　heedless　as　usual　of　her　safety。　Sally　arrived　with　her　customary　thump　against　her　tall　father。　Also　as　usual；　Cathy　Ryan　trailed　behind；　never　quite　able　to　keep　up　with　their　little　white　tornado。　Jack's　wife　did　look　like　a　tourist。　Her　Canon　35mm　camera　was　draped　over　one　shoulder；　along　with　the　camera　case　that　doubled　as　an　oversized　purse　when　they　were　on　vacation。　
　　　　〃How'd　it　go。　Jack？〃
　　　　Ryan　kissed　his　wife。　Maybe　the　Brits　don't　do　that　in　public　either；　he　thought。　〃Great；　babe。　They　treated　me　like　I　owned　the　place。　Got　all　my　notes　tucked　away。〃　He　tapped　his　clipboard。　〃Didn't　you　get　anything？〃　Cathy　laughed。
　　　　〃The　shops　here　deliver。〃　She　smiled　in　a　way　that　told　him　she'd　parted　with　a　fairish　bit　of　the　money　they　had　allocated　for　shopping。　〃And　we　got　something　really　nice　for　Sally。〃　
　　　　〃Oh？〃　Jack　bent　over　to　look　his　daughter　in　the　eye。　〃And　what　might　that　be？〃
　　　　〃It's　a　surprise。　Daddy。〃　The　little　girl　twisted　and　giggled　like　a　true　four…year…old。　She　pointed　to　the　park。　〃Daddy；　they　got　a　lake　with　swans　and　peccalins！〃　
　　　　〃Pelicans；〃　Jack　corrected。
　　　　〃Big　white　ones！〃　Sally　loved　peccalins。
　　　　〃Uh…huh；〃　Ryan　observed。　He　looked　up　to　his　wife。　〃Get　any　good　pictures？〃
　　　　Cathy　patted　her　camera。　〃Oh；　sure。　London　is　already　Canonized　　or　would　you　prefer　that　we　spent　the　whole　day　shopping？〃　Photography　was　Cathy　Ryan's　only　hobby；　and　she　was　good　at　it。
　　　　〃Ha！〃　Ryan　looked　down　the　street。　The　pavement　here　was　reddish；　not　black；　and　the　road　was　lined　with　what　looked　like　beech　trees。　The　Mall；　wasn't　it？　He　couldn't　remember；　and　would　not　ask　his　wife；　who'd　been　to　London　many　times。　The　Palace　was　larger　than　he'd　expected；　but　it　seemed　a　dour　building；　three　hundred　yards　away；　hidde