tc.patriotgames-第47部分

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　　　　〃Jimmy；　why　did　you　say　that？〃　Murray　asked　the　darkness。　He　sat　back　down　in　his　swivel　chair。
　　　　No　Irish　terrorist　group　had　ever　operated　in　the　United　States。　Sure；　they　raised　money　there；　in　the　Irish　neighborhoods　and　saloons　of　Boston　and　New　York；　made　the　odd　speech　about　their　vision　for　the　future　of　a　free；　united　Ireland　　never　bothering　to　say　that　as　mitted　Marxist…Leninists；　their　vision　of　Ireland　was　of　another　Cuba。　They　had　always　been　shrewd　enough　to　know　that　Irish…Americans　might　not　feel　fortable　with　that　little　detail。　And　there　was　the　gun…running。　That　was　largely　something　in　the　past。　The　PIRA　and　INLA　currently　got　most　of　their　weapons　on　the　open　world　market。　There　were　also　reports　that　some　of　their　people　had　gotten　training　in　Soviet　military　camps　　you　couldn't　tell　a　man's　nationality　from　a　satellite　photograph；　nor　could　you　recognize　a　specific　face。　These　reports　had　never　been　confirmed　sufficiently　to　be　released　to　the　press。　The　same　was　true　of　the　camps　in　Libya；　and　Syria；　and　Lebanon。　Some　people；　fair…skinned　people；　were　being　trained　there　　but　who？　The　intelligence　got　a　little　confused　on　this　point。　It　was　different　with　the　European　terrorists。　The　Arabs　who　got　caught　often　sang　like　canaries；　but　the　captured　members　of　the　PIRA　and　INLA；　and　the　Red　Army　Faction；　and　Action…Directe　of　France；　and　all　the　other　shadowy　groups　gave　up　their　information　far　more　grudgingly。　A　cultural　thing；　or　maybe　they　could　simply　be　more　certain　that　their　captors　would　not　　could　not　　use　interrogation　measures　still　mon　in　the　Middle　East。　They'd　all　been　raised　under　democratic　rules；　and　knew　precisely　the　weaknesses　of　the　societies　they　sought　to　topple。　Murray　thought　of　them　as　strengths；　but　recognized　the　inconveniences　that　they　imposed　on　law…enforcement　professionals　。　。　。　
　　　　The　bottom　line　was　still　that　PIRA　and　INLA　had　never　mitted　a　violent　crime　in　America。　Never。　Not　once。
　　　　But　Jimmy's　right。　The　ULA　has　never　hesitated　to　break　a　rule。　The　Royal　Family　was　off…limits　to　everyone　else；　but　not　the　ULA。　The　PIRA　and　INLA　never　hesitated　to　advertise　its　operations　　every　terrorist　group　advertises　its　operations。　But　not　the　ULA。　He　shook　his　head。　There　wasn't　any　evidence　to　suggest　that　they'd　break　this　rule。　It　was　simply　the　one　thing　that　they　hadn't　done　。　。　。　yet。　Not　the　sort　of　thing　to　start　an　investigation　with。
　　　　〃But　what　are　they　up　to？〃　he　said　aloud。　Nobody　knew　that。　Even　their　name　was　an　anomaly。　Why　did　they　call　themselves　the　Ulster　Liberation　Army？　The　nationalist　movement　always　focused　on　its　Irishness；　it　was　an　Irish　nationalist　movement；　but　the　ULA's　very　name　was　a　regional　expression。　〃Ulster〃　was　invariably　the　prefix　of　the　reactionary　Protestant　groups。　Terrorists　didn't　have　to　make　all　that　much　sense　in　what　they　did；　but　they　did　have　to　make　some　sense。　Everything　about　the　ULA　was　an　anomaly。　They　did　the　things　no　one　else　would　do；　called　themselves　something　no　else　would。
　　　　They　did　the　things　no　one　else　would。　That's　what　was　chewing　on　Jimmy；　Murray　knew。　Why　did　they　operate　that　way？　There　had　to　be　a　reason。　For　all　the　madness　of　their　actions；　terrorists　were　rational　by　their　own　standards。　However　twisted　their　reasoning　appeared　to　an　outsider；　it　did　have　its　own　internal　logic。　The　PIRA　and　INLA　had　such　logic。　They　had　even　announced　their　rationales；　and　their　actions　could　be　seen　to　fit　with　what　they　said：　To　make　Northern　Ireland　ungovernable。　If　they　succeeded；　the　British　would　finally　have　enough　of　it　and　leave。　Their　objective；　therefore；　was　to　sustain　a　low…level　conflict　indefinitely　and　wait　for　the　other　side　to　walk　away。　It　did　make　conceptual　sense。
　　　　But　the　ULA　has　never　said　what　it's　up　to。　Why　not？　Why　should　their　objective　be　a　secret？　Hell；　why　should　the　existence　of　a　terrorist　group　be　a　secret　　if　they're　running　operations；　how　can　it　be　a　secret；　then　why　have　they　never　even　announced　their　existence；　except　within　the　PIRA/INLA　munity　itself？　This　can't　be　pletely　unreasoned　action；　he　reminded　himself。　They　can't　be　acting　pletely　without　reason　and　still　be　as　effective　as　they've　been。
　　　　〃Damn！〃　The　answer　was　there。　Murray　could　feel　it　floating　at　the　edge　of　his　consciousness；　but　his　mind　couldn't　quite　reach　that　far。　The　agent　left　his　office。　Two　Marines　were　already　patrolling　the　corridors；　checking　that　the　doors　were　locked。　Dan　waved　to　them　on　the　way　to　the　elevator；　his　mind　still　trying　to　assemble　the　pieces　into　a　unified　picture。　He　wished　that　Owens　hadn't　left　so　soon。　He　wanted　to　talk　this　one　over　with　Jimmy。　Maybe　the　two　of　them　could　make　sense　of　it　all。　No；　he　told　himself；　not　〃maybe。〃　They'd　find　it。　It　was　there；　waiting　to　be　found。
　　　　I　bet　Miller　knew；　Murray　thought。

　　　　〃What　a　dreadful　place；〃　Sean　Miller　said。　The　sunset　was　magnificent；　almost　like　one　at　sea。　The　sky　was　clear　of　the　usual　urban　pollution；　and　the　distant　dunes　gave　a　crisp；　if　crenelated；　line　for　the　sun　to　slide　behind。　The　odd　thing　was　the　temperature　range；　of　course。　The　noon　temperature　had　reached　ninety…two　　and　the　locals　thought　of　this　as　a　cool　day！　　but　now　as　the　sun　sank；　a　cool　wind　came　up；　and　soon　the　temperature　would　drop　to　freezing。　The　sand　couldn't　hold　the　heat；　and　with　the　clear；　dry　air；　it　would　just　radiate　away；　back　to　the　stars。
　　　　Miller　was　tired。　It　had　been　that　sort　of　day：　refresher　training。　He　hadn't　touched　a　weapon　in　nearly　two　months。　His　reactions　were　off；　his　marksmanship　abysmal；　his　physical　condition　little　better。　He'd　actually　gained　a　few　pounds　on　prison　food；　something　that　had　e　as　quite　a　surprise。　In　a　week　he'd　have　that　run　off。　The　desert　was　good　for　that。　Like　most　men　born　in　the　higher　latitudes。　Miller　had　trouble　tolerating　this　sort　of　climate。　His　physical　activity　made　him　thirsty；　but　he　found　it　difficult　to　eat　when　it　was　so　hot。　So　he　drank　water　and　allowed　his　body　to　turn　in　on　itself。　He'd　lose　the　weight　and　harden　his　body　more　quickly　here　than　anywhere　else。　But　that　didn't　make　him　like　the　place。
　　　　Four　more　of　their　men　were　here　also；　but　the　remainder　of　the　rescue　force　had　immediately　flown　home　via　Rome　and　Brussels；　putting　a　new　string　of　entry　stamps　on　their　〃travel〃　passports。
　　　　〃It's　not　Ireland；〃　O'Donnell　agreed。　His　nose　crinkled　at　the　smell　of　dust；　and　his　own　sweat。　Not　like　home。　No　smell　of　the　mist　over　the　peat；　or　coke　fires　on　the　hearths；　or　the　alcoholic　ambience　of　the　local　pub。
　　　　That　was　an　annoying　development：　no　liquor。　The　locals　had　got　another　attack　of　Allah　and　decided　that　even　the　fellow　members　of　the　international　revolutionary　munity　could　not　break　God's　law。　What　a　bloody　nuisance。
　　　　It　wasn't　much　of　a　camp。　Six　buildings；　one　of　them　a　garage。　An　unused　helicopter　pad；　a　road　half…covered　with　sand　from　the　last　storm。　One　deep　well　for　water。　A　firing　range。　Nothing　else。　In　the　past　as　many　as　fifty　people　had　cycled　through　here　at　a　time。　Not　now。　This　was　the　ULA's　own　camp；　well　separated　from　camps　used　by　other　groups。　Every　one　of　them　had　learned　the　importance　of　security。　On　a　blackboard　in　hut　#l　was　a　schedule　provided　by　other　fair…skinned　friends　that　gave　the　pass…over　times　for　American　reconnaissance　satellites；　everyone　knew　when　to　be　out　of　sight；　and　the　camp's　vehicles　were　under　cover。
　　　　Two　headlights　appeared　on　the　horizon；　heading　south　toward　the　camp。　O'Donnell　noted　their　appearance；　but　said　nothing　about　it。　The　horizon　was　far　away。　He　put　his　arms　into　the　sleeves　of　his　jacket　to　ward　off　the　gathering　chill　as　he　watched　the　lights　slide　left　and　right；　their　conical　beams　tracing　over　the　dunes。　The　driver　was　taking　his　time；　Kevin　saw。　The　lights　weren't　bouncing　about。　The　climate　made　it　hard　for　a　man　to　push　himself　hard。　Things　would　get　done　tomorrow；　God　willing。　Insh'Allah；　a　Latin　colleague　had　once　told　him；　meant　the　same　thing　as　manana　　but　without　the　urgency。
　　　　The　vehicle　was　a　Toyota　Land　Cruiser；　the　four…wheel…drive　that　had　replaced　the　Land…Rover　in　most　places。　The　driver　took　it　right　into　the　garage　before　getting　out。　O'Donnell　checked　his　watch。　The　next　satellite　pass　was　in　thirty　minutes。　Close　enough。　He　rose　and　walked　into　hut　#3。　Miller　followed；　waving　to　the　man　who'd　just　e　into　the　camp。　A　uniformed　soldier　from　the　camp's　permanent　force　closed　the　garage　door；　and　otherwise　ignored　them。
　　　　〃Glad　to　see　you　got　out；　Sean；〃　the　visitor　said。　He　carried　a　small　satchel。
　　　　〃Thank　you；　Shamus。〃
　　　　O'Donnell　held　open　the　door。　He　was　not　one　to　stand　on　ceremony。
　　　　〃Thank　you；　Kevin。〃　
　　　　〃You're　just　in　time　for　dinner；〃　the　chief　of　the　ULA　said。
　　　　〃Well；　one　can't　always　be　lucky；〃　Shamus　Padraig　Connolly　said。　He　looked　around　the　inside　of　the　hut。　〃No　wogs　about？〃　
　　　　〃Not　in　here。〃　O'Donnell　assured　him。
　　　　〃Good。〃　Connolly　opened　his　satchel　and　brought　out　two　bottles。　〃I　thought　you　might　like　a　drop　of　the　pure。〃　
　　　　〃How　did　you　get　it　past　the　bastards？〃　Miller　asked。
　　　　〃I　heard　about　the　new　rule。　I　told　them　I　was　bringing　in　a　gun；　of　course。〃　Everyone　laughed　as　Miller