tc.patriotgames-第85部分

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　　　　〃So　who's　the　girl？〃
　　　　〃An　assassin；〃　Marty　replied。　He　handed　Jack　a　photograph　taken　at　closer　range。　〃And　a　good　one。　Three　suspected　kills；　two　politicians　and　an　industrialist；　all　with　a　pistol　at　close　range。　Imagine　how　it's　done：　you're　a　middle…aged　man　walking　down　the　street；　you　see　a　pretty　girl；　she　smiles　at　you；　maybe　asks　for　directions　or　something；　you　stop；　and　the　next　thing　you　know；　there's　a　pistol　in　her　hand。　Goodbye；　Charlie。〃
　　　　Jack　looked　at　the　photograph。　She　didn't　look　dangerous　　she　looked　like　every　man's　fantasy。　〃Like　we　used　to　say　in　college；　not　the　sort　of　girl　you'd　kick　out　of　bed。　Jesus；　what　sort　of　world　do　we　live　in；　Marty？〃
　　　　〃You　know　that　better　than　I　do。　Anyway；　we've　been　asked　to　keep　an　eye　on　the　camp。　If　we　spot　her　there　again；　the　French　want　us　to　real…time　the　photo　to　them。〃　
　　　　〃They're　going　to　go　in　after　her？〃
　　　　〃They　didn't　say；　but　you　might　recall　that　the　French　have　troops　in　Chad；　maybe　four　hundred　miles　away。　Airborne　units；　with　helicopters。〃　
　　　　Jack　handed　the　picture　back。　〃What　a　waste。〃　
　　　　〃Sure　is。〃　Cantor　pocketed　the　photo　and　the　issue。　〃How's　it　going　with　your　data？〃
　　　　〃So　far　I　have　a　whole　lot　of　nothing。　The　people　who　do　this　full…time　。　。　。　〃
　　　　〃Yeah；　for　a　while　there　they　were　working　around　the　clock。　We　had　to　make　them　stop；　they　were　burning　out。　puterizing　it　was　a　little　helpful。　Once　we　had　the　head　of　one　group　turn　up　at　six　airports　in　one　day；　and　we　knew　the　data　was　for　crap；　but　every　so　often　we　get　a　live　one。　We　missed　that　guy　by　a　half…hour　outside　Beirut　last　March。　Thirty　goddamned　minutes；〃　Cantor　said。　〃You　get　used〃　to　it。〃
　　　　Thirty　minutes；　Jack　thought。　If　I'd　left　my　office　thirty　minutes　earlier；　I'd　be　dead。　How　am　I　supposed　to　get　used　to　that？　
　　　　〃What　would　you　have　done　to　him？〃
　　　　〃We　wouldn't　have　read　him　his　constitutional　rights；〃　Cantor　replied。　〃So；　any　connections　that　you've　been　able　to　find？〃　
　　　　Ryan　shook　his　head。　〃This　ULA　outfit　is　so　goddamned　small。　I　have　sixteen　suspected　contacts　between　the　IRA　and　other　groups。　Some　of　them　could　be　our　boys；　but　how　can　you　tell？　The　reports　don't　have　pictures；　the　written　descriptions　could　be　anybody。　Even　when　we　have　a　reported　IRA　contact　with　a　bunch　they're　not　supposed　be　talking　to　　one　that　might　actually　be　the　ULA　　then；　A；　our　underlying　information　could　easily　be　wrong；　and　B；　it　could　be　the　first　time　they　talked　with　the　IRA！　Marty；　how　in　the　hell　is　somebody　supposed　to　make　any　sense　out　of　this　garbage？〃
　　　　〃Well；　the　next　time　you　hear　somebody　ask　what　the　CIA　is　doing　about　terrorism　　you　won't　be　able　to　tell　him。〃　Cantor　actually　smiled　at　that。　〃These　people　we're　looking　for　aren't　dumb。　They　know　what'll　happen　if　they　get　caught。　Even　if　we　don't　do　it　ourselves　　which　we　might　not　want　to　do　　we　can　always　tip　the　Israelis。　Terrorists　are　tough；　nasty　bastards；　but　they　can't　stand　up　to　real　troops　and　they　know　it。
　　　　〃That's　the　frustrating　part。　My　brother…in…law's　an　Army　major；　part　of　the　Delta　Force　down　at　Fort　Bragg。　I've　seen　them　operate。　They　could　take　out　this　camp　you　looked　at　in　under　two　minutes；　kill　everybody　there；　and　be　gone　before　the　echo　fades。　They're　deadly　and　efficient；　but　without　the　right　information；　they　don't　know　where　to　be　deadly　and　efficient　at。　Same　with　police　work。　Do　you　think　the　Mafia　could　survive　if　the　cops　knew　exactly　where　and　when　they　did　their　thing？　How　many　bank　robberies　would　be　successful　if　the　SWAT　team　was　waiting　inside　the　doors？　But　you　gotta　know　where　the　crooks　are。　It's　all　about　intelligence；　and　intelligence　es　down　to　a　bunch　of　faceless　bureaucrats　sifting　through　all　this　crap。　The　people　who　gather　the　intel　give　it　to　us；　and　we　process　it　and　give　it　to　the　operations　teams。　The　battle　is　fought　here；　too。　Jack。　Right　here　in　this　building；　by　a　bunch　of　GS…9s　and　…10s　who　go　home　to　their　families　every　night。〃
　　　　But　the　battle　is　being　lost。　Jack　told　himself。　It　sure　as　hell　isn't　being　won。
　　　　〃How's　the　FBI　doing？〃　he　asked。
　　　　〃Nothing　new。　The　black　guy　　well；　he　might　as　well　not　exist　so　far　as　anyone　can　tell。　They　have　a　crummy　picture　that's　several　years　old；　an　alias　with　no　real　name　or　prints　to　check；　and　about　ten　lines　of　description　that　mainly　says　he's　smart　enough　to　keep　his　mouth　shut。　The　Bureau's　checking　through　people　who　used　to　be　in　the　radical　groups　　funny　how　they　have　mostly　settled　down　　without　any　success　so　far。〃　
　　　　〃How　about　the　bunch　who　flew　over　there　two　years　back？〃　Not　so　long　ago　members　of　several　radical　American　groups　had　flown　to　Libya　to　meet　with　〃progressive　elements〃　of　the　third…world　munity。　The　echoes　of　that　event　still　reverberated　through　the　antiterrorism　munity。
　　　　〃You've　noticed　that　we　don't　have　any　pictures　from　Benghazi；　right？　Our　agent　got　picked　up　　one　of　those　horrible　accidents。　It　cost　us　the　photos　and　it　cost　him　his　neck。　Fortunately　they　never　found　out　he　was　working　for　us。　We　know　some　of　the　names　of　the　people　who　were　there；　but　not　all。〃　
　　　　〃Passport　records？〃
　　　　Cantor　leaned　against　the　doorframe。　〃Let's　say　Mr。　X　flew　to　Europe；　an　American　on　vacation　　we're　talking　tens　of　thousands　of　people　per　month。　He　makes　contact　with　someone　on　the　other　side；　and　they　get　him　the　rest　of　the　way　without　going　through　the　usual　immigration…control　procedures。　It's　easy　　hell；　the　Agency　does　it　all　the　time。　If　we　had　a　name　we　could　see　if　he　was　out　of　the　country　at　the　right　time。　That　would　be　a　start　　but　we　don't　have　a　name　to　check。〃　
　　　　〃We　don't　have　anything！〃　Ryan　snapped。
　　　　〃Sure　we　do。　We　have　all　that〃　　he　waved　at　the　documents　on　Ryan's　desk　　〃and　lots　more　where　that　came　from。　Somewhere　in　there　is　the　answer。〃　
　　　　〃You　really　believe　that？〃
　　　　〃Every　time　we　crack　one　of　these　things；　we　find　that　all　the　information　was　under　our　nose　for　months。　The　oversight　mittees　in　Congress　always　hammer　us　on　that。　Sitting　in　that　pile　right　now。　Jack；　is　a　crucial　lead。　That's　almost　a　statistical　certainty。　But　you　probably　have　two　or　three　hundred　such　reports　sitting　there；　and　only　one　matters。〃
　　　　〃I　didn't　expect　miracles；　but　I　did　expect　to　make　some　progress；〃　Jack　said　quietly；　the　magnitude　of　the　problem　finally　sinking　in。
　　　　〃You　did。　You　saw　something　that　no　one　else　did。　You　may　have　found　Francoise　Theroux。　And　now　if　a　French　agent　sees　something　that　might　be　useful　to　us；　maybe　they'll　pass　it　along。　You　didn't　know　this；　but　the　intel　business　is　like　the　old　barter　economy。　We　give　them；　and　then　they　give　us；　or　we'll　never　give　to　them　again。　If　this　pans　out；　they'll　owe　us　big…time。　They　really　want　that　gal。　She　popped　a　close　friend　of　their　President；　and　he　took　it　personally。
　　　　〃Anyway；　you　get　a　well…done　from　the　Admiral　and　the　DGSE。　The　boss　says　you　should　take　it　a　little　easier；　by　the　way。〃　
　　　　〃I'll　take　it　easy　when　I　find　the　bastards；〃　Ryan　replied。
　　　　〃Sometimes　you　have　to　back　off。　You　look　like　hell。　You're　tired。　Fatigue　makes　for　errors。　We　don't　like　errors。　No　more　late　hours；　Jack；　that　es　from　Greer；　too。　You're　out　of　here　by　six。〃　Cantor　left；　denying　Jack　a　chance　to　object。
　　　　Ryan　turned　back　toward　his　desk；　but　stared　at　the　wall　for　several　minutes。　Cantor　was　right。　He　was　working　so　late　that　half　the　time　he　couldn't　drive　up　to　Baltimore　to　see　how　his　daughter　was　doing。　Jack　rationalized　that　his　wife　was　with　her　every　day；　frequently　spending　the　night　at　Hopkins　to　be　close　to　their　daughter。　Cathy　has　her　job　and　I　have　mine。
　　　　So；　he　told　the　wall；　at　least　I　managed　to　gel　something　right。　He　remembered　that　it　had　been　an　accident；　that　Marty　had　made　the　real　connection；　but　it　was　also　true　that　he'd　done　what　an　analyst　was　supposed　to　do；　find　something　odd　and　bring　it　to　someone's　attention。　He　could　feel　good　about　that。　He'd　found　a　terrorist　maybe；　but　certainly　not　the　right　one。
　　　　It's　a　start。　His　conscience　wondered　what　the　French　would　do　if　they　found　that　pretty　girl；　and　how　he'd　feel　about　it　if　he　found　out。　It　would　be　better；　he　decided；　if　terrorists　were　ugly；　but　pretty　or　not；　their　victims　were　just　as　dead。　He　promised　himself　that　he　wouldn't　go　out　of　his　way　to　find　out　if　anyone　got　her。　Jack　went　back　into　the　pile；　looking　for　that　one　piece　of　hard　information。　The　people　he　was　looking　for　were　somewhere　in　the　pile。　He　had　to　find　them。

　　　　〃Hello；　Alex；〃　Miller　said　as　he　entered　the　car。
　　　　〃How　was　the　trip？〃　He　still　had　his　beard；　Dobbens　saw。　Well；　nobody　had　gotten　much　of　a　look　at　him。　This　time　he'd　flown　to　Mexico；　driven　across　the　border；　then　taken　a　domestic　flight　into　D。C。；　where　Alex　had　met　him。　
　　　　〃Your　border　security　over　here's　a　bloody　joke。〃　
　　　　〃Would　it　make　you　happy　if　they　changed　it？〃　Alex　inquired。　〃Let's　talk　business。〃　The　abruptness　of　his　tone　surprised　Miller。
　　　　Aren't　you　a　proud　one；　with　one　whole　operation　under　your　belt；　Miller　thought。　〃We　have　another　job　for　you。〃　
　　　　〃You　haven't　paid　me　for　the　last　one　yet；　boy。〃　
　　　　Miller　handed　over　a　passbook。　〃Numbered　account；　Bahamian　bank。　I　be