tc.patriotgames-第108部分

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　Jack　thought。　The　dog　had　entirely　supplanted　AG　Bear。　He　found　it　hard　to　believe　that　anything　could　do　that。
　　　　They're　ing　back；　aren't　they？　he　asked　the　night。　Jack　rose　off　the　leather　couch　and　walked　to　the　windows。　It　was　a　clear　night。　Out　on　the　Chesapeake　Bay；　he　could　see　the　running　lights　of　ships　plying　their　way　to　or　from　the　Port　of　Baltimore；　and　the　more　ornate　displays　of　tug…barge　binations　that　plodded　along　more　slowly。
　　　　He　didn't　know　how　he　could　have　been　so　slow　on　the　uptake。　Perhaps　because　the　activity　at　Camp　…18　almost　tracked　with　the　pattern　that　he'd　tried　repeatedly　to　discern。　It　was　about　the　right　time　for　them　to　show　up　for　refresher　training。　But　it　was　equally　likely　that　they　were　planning　something　big。　Like　maybe　right　here　。　。　。　
　　　　〃Jesus。　You　were　too　close　to　the　problem；　Jack；〃　he　whispered。　It　was　public　knowledge　　had　been　for　a　couple　of　weeks　　that　they　were　ing　over；　and　the　ULA　had　already　demonstrated　its　ability　to　operate　in　America；　he　remembered。　And　we're　bringing　known　targets　into　our　home！　Real　smart；　Jack。　In　retrospect　it　was　amazing　enough。　They'd　accepted　the　backward　invitation　without　the　first　thought　。　。　。　and　even　when　the　security　people　had　been　here　the　previous　day；　he'd　made　jokes。　You　asshole！
　　　　He　thought　over　the　security　provisions；　taking　himself　back　again　to　his　time　in　the　Corps。　As　an　abstract　battle　problem；　his　house　was　a　tough　objective。　You　couldn't　do　anything　from　the　east　　the　cliff　was　a　more　dangerous　obstacle　than　a　minefield。　North　and　south；　the　woods　were　so　thick　and　tangled　that　even　the　most　skilled　mando　types　would　be　hard…pressed　to　e　through　without　making　a　horrendous　racket　　and　they　sure　as　hell　couldn't　practice　that　kind　of　skill　in　a　barren；　treeless　desert！　So　they　had　to　e　from　the　west。　How　many　people　did　Avery　say　　well；　he　didn't　say；　but　I　got　the　impression　of　about　twenty。　Twenty　security　people；　armed　and　trained。　He　remembered　the　days　from　the　Basic　Officer's　Course　at　Quantico；　and　the　nights。　Twenty…two　years　old；　invincible　and　immortal；　drinking　beer　at　local　bars。　There'd　been　one　night　at　a　place　called　the　mand　Post；　the　one　with　a　picture　of　Patton　on　the　wall；　when　he'd　started　talking　to　a　couple　of　instructors　from　the　FBI　Academy；　just　south　of　the　Marine　base。　They　were　every　bit　as　proud　as　his　brother　Marines。　They　never　bothered　to　say　〃we　are　the　best。〃　They　simply　assumed　that　everyone　knew　it。　Just　like　us。　The　next　day　he'd　accepted　the　invitation　to　shoot　on　their　range　and　settle　a　gentlemanly　wager。　It　had　cost　him　ten　dollars　to　learn　that　one　of　them　was　the　chief　firearms　instructor。　God；　I　wonder　if　Breckenridge　could　beat　him！　The　Secret　Service　wouldn't　be　very　different；　given　their　mission。　Would　you　want　to　tangle　with　them？　Hell；　no！
　　　　If　I　assume　that　the　ULA　is　as　smart　as　it　seems　to　be　。　。　。　and　it　is　an　unannounced　trip；　a　private　sort　of　thing　。　。　。　They　won't　know　to　e　here；　and　even　if　they　did；　if　they're　too　smart　to　take　this　one　on　。　。　。　it　should　be　safe；　shouldn't　it？
　　　　But　that　was　a　word　whose　meaning　was　forever　changed。　Safe。　It　was　something　no　longer　real。
　　　　Jack　walked　around　the　fireplace　into　the　house's　bedroom　wing。　Sally　was　sleeping；　with　Ernie　curled　up　on　the　foot　of　the　bed。　His　head　came　up　when　Jack　entered　the　room；　as　if　to　say；　〃Yes？〃
　　　　His　little　girl　was　lying　there；　at　peace；　dreaming　a　child's　dreams　while　her　father　contemplated　the　nightmare　that　still　hovered　over　his　family；　the　one　he'd　allowed　himself　to　forget　for　a　few　hours。　He　straightened　the　covers　and　patted　the　dog　on　the　head　before　leaving　the　room。
　　　　Jack　wondered　how　public　figures　did　it。　They　lived　with　the　nightmare　all　the　time。　He　remembered　congratulating　the　Prince　for　not　letting　such　a　threat　dominate　his　life：　Well　done；　old　boy；　that'll　show　them！　Be　a　fearless　target！　It　was　a　very　different　thing　when　you　were　yourself　the　target；　Ryan　admitted　to　the　night；　when　your　family　was　the　target。　You　put　on　the　brave　face；　and　followed　your　instructions；　and　wondered　if　every　car　on　the　street　could　hold　a　man　with　a　machine　gun　who　was　bent　on　making　your　death　into　a　very　special　political　statement。　You　could　keep　your　mind　off　it　during　the　day　when　you　had　work　to　do；　but　at　night；　when　the　mind　wanders　and　dreams　begin　。　。　。　
　　　　The　dualism　was　incredible。　You　couldn't　dwell　on　it；　but　neither　could　you　allow　yourself　to　forget　it。　You　couldn't　let　your　life　be　dominated　by　fear；　but　you　couldn't　ever　lapse　into　a　feeling　of　security。　A　sense　of　fatalism　would　have　helped；　but　Ryan　was　a　man　who　had　always　deemed　himself　the　master　of　his　fate。　He　would　not　admit　that　anything　else　could　be　true。　He　wanted　to　lash　out；　if　not　at　them；　then　at　destiny；　but　both　were　as　far　beyond　his　reach　as　the　ships　whose　lights　passed　miles　from　his　windows。　The　safety　of　his　family　had　almost　been　assured　　
　　　　We　came　so　close！　he　cried　silently　to　the　night。
　　　　They'd　almost　done　it。　They'd　almost　won　that　one　battle；　and　they　had　helped　others　win　another。　He　could　fight　back；　and　he　knew　that　he　could　do　it　best　by　working　at　that　desk　in　Langley；　by　joining　the　team　full…time。　He　would　not　be　the　master　of　his　fate；　but　at　least　he　could　play　a　part。　He　had　played　a　part。　It　had　been　important　enough　　if　only　an　accident　　to　Francoise　Theroux；　that　pretty；　malignant　thing　now　dead。　And　so　the　decision　was　made。　The　people　with　guns　would　play　their　part；　and　the　man　behind　the　desk　would　play　his。　Jack　would　miss　the　Academy；　miss　the　eager　young　kids；　but　that　was　the　price　he'd　have　to　pay　for　getting　back　into　the　game。　Jack　got　a　drink　of　water　before　going　back　to　bed。

　　　　Plebe　Summer　started　on　schedule。　Jack　watched　with　impassive　sympathy　as　the　recently　graduated　high　school　seniors　were　introduced　to　the　rigors　of　military　life。　The　process　was　consciously　aimed　at　weeding　out　the　weak　as　early　as　possible；　and　so　it　was　largely　in　the　hands　of　upperclassmen　who　had　only　recently　been　through　the　same　thing。　The　new　youngsters　were　at　the　debatable　mercy　of　the　older　ones；　running　around　with　their　closely　cropped　hair　to　the　double…time　cadence　of　students　only　two　years　their　senior。
　　　　〃Morning；　Jack！〃　Robby　came　over　to　watch　with　him　from　the　parking　lot。
　　　　〃You　know；　Rob；　Boston　College　was　never　like　this。〃　
　　　　〃If　you　think　this　is　a　Plebe　Summer；〃　Jackson　snorted；　〃you　should　have　seen　what　it　was　like　when　I　was　here！〃　
　　　　〃I　bet　they've　been　saying　that　for　a　hundred　years；〃　Jack　suggested。
　　　　〃Probably　so。〃　The　white…clad　plebes　passed　like　a　herd　of　buffalo；　all　gasping　for　air　on　the　hot；　humid　morning。　〃We　kept　better　formations；　though。〃　
　　　　〃The　first　day？〃　
　　　　〃The　first　few　days　were　a　blur；〃　Jackson　admitted。　
　　　　〃Packing　up？〃
　　　　Jackson　nodded。　〃Most　of　the　gear's　already　in　boxes。　I　have　to　get　my　relief　settled　in。〃　
　　　　〃Me；　too。〃　
　　　　〃You're　leaving？〃　Robby　was　surprised。　
　　　　〃I　told　Admiral　Greer　that　I　wanted　in。〃
　　　　〃Admiral　　oh；　the　guy　at　CIA。　You're　going　to　do　it；　eh？　How　did　the　department　take　it？〃
　　　　〃I　think　you　can　say　that　they　managed　to　restrain　their　tears。　The　boss　isn't　real　happy　about　all　the　time　I　missed　this　year。　So　it　looks　like　we're　both　having　a　going…away　dinner。〃　
　　　　〃Jeez；　it's　this　Friday；　isn't　it？〃　
　　　　〃Yeah。　Can　you　show　up　about　eight…fifteen？〃　
　　　　〃You　got　it。　You　said　not　dressy；　right？〃　
　　　　〃That's　right。〃　Jack　smiled。　Gotcha。

　　　　The　RAF　VC…10　aircraft　touched　down　at　Andrews　Air　Force　Base　at　eight　in　the　evening　and　taxied　to　the　same　terminal　used　by　Air　Force　One。　The　reporters　noted　that　security　was　very　tight；　with　what　looked　to　be　a　full　pany　of　Air　Police　in　view；　plus　the　plainclothes　Secret　Service　agents。　They　told　themselves　that　security　at　this　particular　part　of　the　base　was　always　strict。　The　plane　came　to　a　halt　at　exactly　the　right　place；　and　the　stairs　were　rolled　to　the　forward　door；　which　opened　after　a　moment。
　　　　At　the　foot　of　the　stairs　waited　the　Ambassador　and　officials　from　the　State　Department。　Inside　the　aircraft；　security　men　made　a　final　check　out　the　windows。　Finally　His　Highness　appeared　in　the　doorway；　joined　by　his　young　wife；　waving　to　the　distant　spectators；　and　descending　the　stairs　gingerly　despite　legs　that　were　stiff　from　the　flight。　At　the　bottom　a　number　of　military　officers　from　two　nations　saluted；　and　the　State　Department　protocol　officer　curtsied。　This　would　earn　her　a　reprimand　from　the　Washington　Post's　arbiter　of　manners　in　the　morning　edition。　The　six…year…old　granddaughter　of　the　base　mander　presented　Her　Highness　with　a　dozen　yellow　roses。　Strobes　flashed；　and　both　royal　personages　smiled　dutifully　at　the　cameras　while　they　took　the　time　to　say　something　pleasant　to　everyone　in　the　receiving　line。　The　Prince　shared　a　joke　with　a　naval　officer　who　had　once　manded　him；　and　the　Princess　said　something　about　the　oppressive；　muggy　weather　that　had　persisted　into　the　evening。　The　Ambassador's　wife　pointed　out　that　the　climate　here　was　such　that　Washington　D。C。　had　once　been　considered　a　hazardous…duty　station。　The　malarial　mosquitoes　were　long　gone；　but　the　climate　hadn