tc.patriotgames-第54部分

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　　　　〃Yeah。〃

Chapter　12　Homeing

　　　　Ryan　left　home　well　before　seven。　First　he　drove　to　U。S。　Route　50　and　headed　west　toward　D。C。　The　road　was　crowded；　as　usual；　with　the　early　morning　muters　heading　to　the　federal　agencies　that　had　transformed　the　District　of　Columbia　from　a　picturesque　plot　of　real　estate　into　a　pseudo…city　of　transients。　He　got　off　onto　I…495；　the　beltway　that　surrounds　the　town；　heading　north　through　even　thicker　traffic　whose　more　congested　spots　were　reported　on　by　a　radio　station's　helicopter。　It　was　nice　to　know　why　the　traffic　was　moving　at　fifteen　miles　per　hour　on　a　road　designed　for　seventy。
　　　　He　wondered　if　Cathy　was　doing　what　she　was　supposed　to　do。　The　problem　was　that　there　weren't　that　many　roads　for　her　to　use　to　get　to　Baltimore。　The　nursery　school　that　Sally　attended　was　on　Ritchie　Highway；　and　that　precluded　use　of　the　only　direct　alternate　route。　On　the　other　hand；　Ritchie　Highway　was　always　a　crowded　and　fast…moving　road；　and　intercepting　her　wouldn't　be　easy　there。　In　Baltimore　itself；　she　had　a　wide　choice　of　routes　into　Hopkins；　and　she　promised　to　switch　them　around。　Ryan　looked　out　at　the　traffic　in　front　of　him　and　swore　a　silent　curse。　Despite　what　he'd　told　Cathy；　he　didn't　worry　overly　much　about　his　family。　He　was　the　one　who'd　gotten　in　the　way　of　the　terrorists；　and　if　their　motivation　was　really　personal；　then　he　was　the　only　target。　Maybe。　Finally　he　crossed　the　Potomac　River　and　got　on　the　George　Washington　Parkway。　Fifteen　minutes　later　he　took　the　CIA　exit。
　　　　He　stopped　his　Rabbit　at　the　guard　post。　A　uniformed　security　officer　came　out　and　asked　his　name；　though　he'd　already　checked　Ryan's　license　plate　against　a　puter…generated　list　on　his　clipboard。　Ryan　handed　his　driver's　license　to　the　guard；　who　scrupulously　checked　the　photograph　against　Jack's　face　before　giving　him　a　pass。
　　　　〃Sir；　the　visitors'　parking　lot　is　to　the　left；　then　the　second　right　〃　
　　　　〃Thanks；　I've　been　here　before。〃　
　　　　〃Very　well；　sir。〃　The　guard　waved　him　on。
　　　　The　trees　were　bare。　CIA　headquarters　was　built　behind　the　first　rank　of　hills　overlooking　the　Potomac　Valley；　in　what　had　once　been　a　lush　forest。　Most　of　the　trees　remained；　to　keep　people　from　seeing　the　building。　Jack　took　the　first　left　and　drove　uphill　on　a　curving　road。　The　visitor　parking　lot　was　also　attended　by　a　guard　　this　one　was　a　woman　　who　waved　him　to　an　open　slot　and　made　another　check　of　Ryan　before　directing　him　toward　the　canopied　main　entrance。　To　his　right　was　〃the　Bubble；〃　an　igloo…shaped　theater　that　was　connected　to　the　building　by　a　tunnel。　He'd　once　delivered　a　talk　there；　a　paper　on　naval　strategy。　Before　him；　the　CIA　building　was　a　seven…story　structure　of　white　stone；　or　maybe　prestressed　concrete。　He'd　never　checked　that　closely。　As　soon　as　he　got　inside；　the　ambience　of　spook…central　hit　him　like　a　club。　He　saw　eight　security　officers；　all　in　civilian　clothes　now；　their　jackets　unbuttoned　to　suggest　the　presence　of　sidearms。　What　they　really　carried　was　radios；　but　Jack　was　sure　that　men　with　guns　were　only　a　few　feet　away。　The　walls　had　cameras　that　fed　into　some　central　monitoring　room　　Ryan　didn't　know　where　that　was；　in　fact；　the　only　parts　of　the　building　he　actually　knew　were　the　path　to　his　erstwhile　cubbyhole　of　an　office；　from　there　to　the　men's　room；　and　the　route　to　the　cafeteria。　He'd　been　to　the　top　floor　several　times；　but　each　time　he'd　been　escorted　since　his　security　pass　didn't　clear　him　for　that　level。
　　　　〃Doctor　Ryan。〃　A　man　approached。　He　looked　vaguely　familiar；　but　Jack　couldn't　put　a　name　on　the　face。　〃I'm　Marty　Cantor　　I　work　upstairs。〃
　　　　The　name　came　back　as　they　shook　hands。　Cantor　was　Admiral　Greer's　executive　assistant；　a　preppy　type　from　Yale。　He　gave　Jack　a　security　pass。
　　　　〃I　don't　have　to　go　through　the　visitor　room？〃　Jack　waved　to　his　left。
　　　　〃All　taken　care　of。　You　can　follow　me。〃　
　　　　Cantor　led　him　to　the　first　security　checkpoint。　He　took　the　pass　from　the　chain　around　his　neck　and　slid　it　into　a　slot。　A　small　gate　with　orange　and　yellow　stripes；　like　those　used　for　parking　garages；　snapped　up；　then　down　again　as　Ryan　stuck　his　card　in　the　slot。　A　puter　in　a　basement　room　checked　the　electronic　code　on　the　pass　and　decided　that　it　could　safely　admit　Ryan　to　the　building。　The　gate　went　back　up。　Already　Jack　was　unfortable　here。　Just　like　before；　he　thought；　like　being　in　a　prison　　no；　security　in　a　prison　is　nothing　pared　to　this。　There　was　something　about　this　place　that　made　Jack　instantly　paranoid。
　　　　Jack　slung　the　pass　around　his　neck。　He　gave　it　a　quick　look。　It　had　a　color　photograph；　taken　the　previous　year；　and　a　number；　but　no　name。　None　of　the　CIA　passes　had　names　on　them。　Cantor　led　off　at　a　brisk　walk　to　the　right；　then　left　toward　the　elevators。　Ryan　noticed　the　kiosk　where　you　could　buy　a　Coke　and　a　Snickers　bar。　It　was　staffed　by　blind　workers；　yet　another　of　the　oddly　sinister　things　about　the　CIA。　Blind　people　were　less　likely　to　be　security　risks；　he　supposed；　though　he　wondered　how　they　drove　in　to　work　every　day。　The　building　was　surprisingly　shabby；　the　floor　tile　never　quite　shiny；　the　walls　a　drab　shade　of　yellow…beige；　even　the　murals　were　second…rate。　It　surprised　a　lot　of　people　that　the　Agency　spent　little　on　the　outward　trappings　of　importance。　The　previous　summer　Jack　had　learned　that　the　people　here　took　a　perverse　pride　in　the　place's　seediness。
　　　　Everywhere　people　walked　about　with　anonymous　haste。　They　walked　so　fast　in　the　building　that　most　corners　had　hubcap…shaped　mirrors　to　warn　you　of　possible　collision　with　a　fellow　spook　。　。　。　or　to　alert　you　that　someone　might　be　lurking　and　listening　around　the　corner。　
　　　　Why　did　you　e　here？
　　　　Jack　shook　the　thought　off　as　he　entered　the　elevator。　Cantor　pushed　the　button　for　the　seventh　floor。　The　door　opened　a　minute　later　to　expose　yet　another　drab　corridor。　Ryan　vaguely　remembered　the　way　now。　Cantor　turned　left；　then　right；　as　Ryan　watched　people　walking　about　with　a　speed　that　would　impress　a　recruiter　for　the　Olympic　Team's　heel…and…toe　crew。　He　had　to　smile　at　it　until　he　realized　that　none　of　them　were　smiling。　A　serious　place；　the　Central　Intelligence　Agency。
　　　　The　executive　row　of　CIA　had　its　own　private　corridor　　this　one　had　a　rug　　that　paralleled　the　main　one　and　led　to　offices　facing　the　east。　As　always；　there　were　people　just　standing　about　and　watching。　They　inspected　Ryan　and　his　pass；　but　showed　no　reaction；　which　was　good　enough　news　for　Jack。　Cantor　took　his　charge　to　the　proper　door　and　opened　it。
　　　　Admiral　James　Greer　was　in　civilian　clothes；　as　usual；　leaning　back　in　a　high…backed　swivel　chair；　reading　an　inevitable　folder　and　sipping　at　inevitable　coffee。　Ryan　had　never　seen　him　otherwise。　He　was　in　his　middle　sixties；　a　tall；　patrician…looking　man　whose　voice　could　be　as　courtly　or　harsh　as　he　wished。　His　accent　was　that　of　Maine；　and　for　all　his　sophistication；　Ryan　knew　him　to　be　a　farmer's　son　who'd　earned　his　way　into　the　Naval　Academy；　then　spent　forty　years　in　uniform；　first　as　a　submarine　officer；　then　as　a　full…time　intelligence　specialist。　Greer　was　one　of　the　brightest　people　Ryan　had　ever　met。　And　one　of　the　trickiest。　Jack　was　convinced　that　this　gray…haired　old　gentleman　could　read　minds。　Surely　that　was　part　of　the　job　description　for　the　Deputy　Director；　Intelligence；　of　the　Central　Intelligence　Agency。　All　the　data　gathered　by　spies　and　satellites；　and　God　only　knew　what　else；　came　across　his　desk。　If　Greer　didn't　know　it；　it　wasn't　worth　knowing。　He　looked　up　after　a　moment。
　　　　〃Hello；　Doctor　Ryan。〃　The　Admiral　rose　and　came　over。　〃I　see　you're　right　on　time。〃
　　　　〃Yes；　sir。　I　remembered　what　a　pain　the　mute　was　last　summer。〃　Without　being　asked；　Marty　Cantor　got　everyone　coffee　as　they　sat　on　chairs　around　a　low　table。　One　nice　thing　about　Greer　was　that　he　always　had　good　coffee。　Jack　remembered。　
　　　　〃How's　the　arm；　son？〃　the　Admiral　asked。
　　　　〃Almost　normal；　sir。　I　can　tell　you　when　it's　going　to　rain；　though。　They　say　that　may　go　away　eventually；　but　it's　like　arthritis。〃　
　　　　〃And　how's　your　family？〃
　　　　The　man　doesn't　miss　a　trick。　Jack　thought。　But　Jack　had　one　of　his　own。　〃A　little　tense　at　the　moment；　sir。　I　broke　the　news　to　Cathy　last　night。　She's　not　real　happy　about　it；　but　then　neither　am　I。〃　Let's　get　down　to　business；　Admiral。
　　　　〃So　what　exactly　can　we　do　for　you？〃　Greer's　demeanor　changed　from　pleasant　old　gentleman　to　professional　intelligence　officer。
　　　　〃Sir；　I　know　this　is　asking　a　lot；　but　I'd　like　to　see　what　the　Agency　has　on　these　ULA　characters。〃
　　　　〃Not　a　hell　of　a　lot。〃　Cantor　snorted。　〃These　boys　cover　their　tracks　like　real　pros。　They're　being　bankrolled　in　a　pretty　big　way　　that's　inferred；　of　course；　but　it　has　to　be　true。〃　
　　　　〃Where　does　your　data　e　from？〃
　　　　Cantor　looked　over　to　Greer　and　got　a　nod。　〃Doctor；　before　we　go　any　further；　we　have　to　talk　about　classification。〃　
　　　　Resignedly：　〃Yeah。　What　do　I　have　to　sign？〃
　　　　〃We'll　take　care　of　that　before　you　leave。　We'll　show　you　just　about　everything　we've　got。　What　you　have　to　know　now　is　that　this　stuff　is　classified　SI…codeword。〃
　　　　〃Well；　that's　no　surprise。〃　Ryan　sighed。　Special…Intelligence…C