Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第30部分

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mind　for　a　moment；　and　then；　like　an　echo；　the　face　of　the　experimenter　who　had　found　the
front　lines　of　war　in　a　New　Mexico　lab。　If　the　thief　–　or　more　likely；　thieves　–　were　badly　injured
by　radiation；　they　might　crawl　away　and　die　like　poisoned　rats　in　some　hidden　hole。　How　would
he　find　them　if　they　went　to　ground？　How　could　anyone　find　them？
Less　than　two　days。
Sweat　gathered　on　Finn’s　ribs　in　spite　of　the　cool　morning。　The　canister　yawned　vacantly　at　him；
its　black　cavity　big　enough　to　swallow　a　world。
As　Finn　backed　away　from　the　canister；　the　counter’s　buzz　diminished　rapidly。　He　clicked
downward　through　the　scale；　watching　the　needle　drop。　With　a　feeling　of　relief；　he　reached　for
the　cutoff　switch。　But　the　counter　buzzed　suddenly　and　the　needle　slapped　against　its　peg。
Finn　stood　absolutely　still。　Just　when　he　thought　he　understood　the　capabilities　of　radiation；　it
ambushed　him　with　no　warning　at　all。　Silence；　then　screams。
Sweating；　Finn　reset　the　counter。　Coughlan；　standing　behind　Finn　near　the　door；　walked　toward
the　shrill…voiced　box。　The　counter　screamed　as　Coughlan　approached　the　probe。
“What　the　hell？”
Coughlan’s　question　was　cut　short　by　the　counter’s　scream　as　he　neared　the　probe。　Finn　quickly
shifted　the　dial；　diminishing　the　counter’s　sensitivity　until　the　clicks　were　crisp　and　separate
again。　He　looked　speculatively　at　Coughlan；　then　pointed　the　probe　toward　him。
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The　clicks　sped　up。
“Hey！”　said　Coughlan。　“What　the　hell　do　you　think　you’re　doing？”
“Stand　still。”
Coughlan　responded　to　the　authority　in　Finn’s　voice。　The　probe　clicked　faster　as　it　approached
Coughlan；　then　slowed　as　Finn　pulled　it　back。
“How　are　you　making　it　do　that？　What　are　those　clicks？”
“I’m　not　making　it　do　anything；”　said　Finn。　“You　are。”　Finn　moved　the　probe　again；　advancing
and　retreating　from　Coughlan。　The　clicks　rose　and　fell　in　a　ripple　of　sound。
“Whaddya　mean？”　said　Coughlan。　“Get　that　damn　thing　away　from　me！”
“You　handled　the　canister；”　said　Finn。　Before　Coughlan　could　deny　it；　Finn　pointed　the　probe　at
the　agent’s　right　hand。　“You　picked　up　the　cover；　most　likely。”
Color　drained　from　Coughlan’s　face　as　the　counter　screamed　the　answer　to　Finn’s　accusation。
Red　splotches　along　the　line　of　the　agent’s　jaw　stood　out　against　the　paleness　of　fear。
“The　thieves；”　said　Finn；　pointing　the　probe　as　though　it　were　a　flashlight　illuminating　a　dark
room；　“opened　the　can；　pulled　out　the　first　piece　and　set　it　down　near　the　lid。　Then　they　pulled
out　that；”　the　wand　pointed　at　the　dark；　solid　damper　that　had　separated　the　two　pieces　of
U…235；　“and　–　“　He　stopped　talking　abruptly。　He　knew　the　thieves　had　taken　out　the　second
piece　of　uranium　and　set　it　down　next　to　the　first；　causing　a　storm　of　radiation。　But　he　could　not
say　that　to　men　who　were　not　even　cleared　to　know　that　they　were　looking　for　uranium。
He　turned　off　the　radiation　counter。　“Riley；　I　saw　a　hose　out　front。　Drag　it　in　here。　Coughlan；
start　peeling。　When　you　get　to　your　skin；　wish　you　could　zip　out　of　it；　too。　But　you　can’t；　so
Riley　will　wash　you　down。”
“You’re　kidding；”　said　Coughlan；　but　he　could　see　that　Finn　was　not。　“For　Chrissake；　why？”
said　Coughlan；　loosening　his　tie　and　belt　even　as　he　protested。
“I　can’t　tell　you。”
Coughlan’s　hands　hovered　over　his　fly。　“So　help　me；　Finn；　if　you’re　jerking　me　off　–　“
“Peel；”　said　Finn。
Coughlan　peeled。
Oakland
3　Hours　16　Minutes　After　Trinity
Refugio　wallowed　in　a　sea　of　pain　until　the　tide　ebbed；　stranding　him　in　a　dry　reality。　He　was
facedown　on　the　front　seat　of　the　laundry　van。　Then　he　remembered　the　instant　that　the　world
had　exploded　as　Masarek　shot　him。　He　sat　and　looked　down　at　himself。　Blood。　A　lapful　of　it。
Afraid　of　what　he　would　find；　he　explored　his　lap　with　his　left　hand。
The　relief　of　finding　himself　intact　was　so　great　that　Refugio　nearly　fainted　again。　Then　came
fiery　pain　as　he　brushed　his　hand　across　his　left　thigh。
“Refugio？”　asked　Salvador　anxiously。
“It’s　all　right；”　said　Refugio；　his　eyes　closed。　“The　cabrón　shot　me　in　the　leg；　nothing　more。　How
long　was　I　out？”
“Only　a　moment。”
Refugio　opened　his　eyes　and　wiped　the　sweat　away；　leaving　bloody　streaks　everywhere　his　hand
had　been。　He　looked　into　the　back　of　the　truck。　Neither　Masarek　nor　Lopez　was　recognizable；
but　it　was　obvious　that　both　men　were　dead。
“The　blonde；”　said　Refugio；　his　voice　hoarse。　“You’ll　have　to　get　her。”
“How？”
“Go　to　the　car　in　back　of　the　van。　The　car　with　a　red　serape　in　the　back　window。　The　woman
who　came　with　Masarek　is　hiding　there。　But　be　careful。　Don’t　trust　her。”
“A　rattlesnake’s　mate　is　no　less　poisonous　for　being　female；”　said　Salvador；　leaning　over　the　seat
and　scooping　up　his　knife　and　shotgun。
“Take　her　–　“　Refugio　bit　off　a　sound　of　pain。　With　great　care；　he　straightened　slowly；　so　that
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the　waves　of　pain　did　not　make　him　dizzy。　He　pressed　his　face　against　the　cold　glass　on　the
driver’s　side；　then　rolled　down　the　window　and　peered　out。　The　cream…colored　flower　truck　was
across　the　street；　nearly　a　block　to　the　rear。　Between　the　flower　truck　and　the　laundry　truck　was　a
car　with　a　red　blanket　in　the　rear　window。
“The　green　car。　Take　her　from　it。　Go　to　the　white　van　with　the　red　rose　on　the　side。　See　it？”
Salvador　leaned　over　the　seat　and　looked。　“Yes。”
“A　Japanese　is　in　the　truck。　A　friend。　Knock　out　the　blonde；　tie　her　and　drive　the　van　up　here。
Just　knock　her　out；　don’t　kill　her。　Understand？”
“Yes。”
Salvador　turned　and　picked　his　way　past　the　bodies　to　the　rear　of　the　truck。　His　foot　hit　a　canvas
bag　containing　the　smaller　piece　of　uranium　and　sent　it　skating　aside　until　it　thumped　up　against
the　bag　with　the　larger　piece　of　U…235。　Radiation　bloomed　in　a　soundless；　subtle　rush　of　blue；　so
faint　he　did　not　see　it。
Salvador　opened　the　rear　door　and　got　out。　After　a　quick　look　around；　he　walked　toward　the
dark　green　car。　Mist　swirled　capriciously；　but　the　red　blanket　was　like　a　beacon。　Even　so；　he
hesitated　before　he　opened　the　car　door。　The　car　looked　empty　and　cold；　its　windows　un…fogged
as　though　nothing　warm　breathed　inside。　Then　he　saw　that　the　windows　were　rolled　down　just
enough　to　let　out　any　telltale　warmth。　He　peered　inside；　but　saw　only　a　back　seat　heaped　with
more　rumpled　blankets。　Knife　in　hand；　he　opened　the　back　door。
“Se？orita？”　whispered　Salvador。
Beneath　the　blankets；　Vanessa　smiled；　thinking　it　was　Refugio’s　voice　whispering　to　her；　Refugio
delivered　to　her　by　Masarek；　as　promised。　The　muffling　blankets　were　no　impediment　to　her
silenced　。38。　She　aimed　as　she　had　practiced；　at　the　exact　center　of　the　open　door；　regretting
only　that　she　could　not　see　Refugio’s　leer　dissolve　into　horror　as　he　felt　death　tearing　at　his
body。
Vanessa　pulled　the　trigger　again　and　again。　Only　the　twitching　blankets　marked　the　silent　passage
of　bullets。　Salvador　reeled　backward；　fell；　and　felt　the　cold　surface　of　the　street　engulf　him。　He
reached　toward　the　blankets　as　though　to　warm　himself。　Then　he　felt　nothing　at　all。
Vanessa　waited　beneath　the　blankets；　holding　her　breath　and　counting　silently。　Nothing　moved
in　or　outside　the　car。　When　she　reached　thirty；　she　threw　aside　the　blankets　and　gulped　air
untainted　by　cordite　and　smoldering　wool。　All　she　could　see　of　the　man　who　had　whispered　to
her　was　a　broad；　blunt　hand　clenched　around　a　trailing　edge　of　blanket。
She　yanked　off　her　dark　scarf　with　her　left　hand　and　snapped　the　cloth　across　the　fingers　clinging
to　the　blanket。　There　was　no　flicker　of　response。　Deliberately；　she　raised　her　gun　and　fired　a　shot
through　the　hand。　It　twitched　from　the　bullet’s　impact；　but　did　not　bleed。　Dead。　She　kicked
aside　the　hand　and　squirmed　out　of　the　back　seat。
The　man　slumped　against　the　pavement　was　too　big；　too　broad；　too　thick。　Refugio　was　smaller。
She　turned　over　the　corpse　with　her　foot　and　looked　into　dead　eyes　that　were　not　Refugio’s。
Then　she　looked　up　the　street　at　the　pale　van　parked　neatly　along　the　curb。
Had　something　gone　wrong？　Had　Masarek　been　forced　to　kill　Refugio　himself？　Or　was　it
Masarek　who　was　dead　and　Refugio　alive？
Vanessa　shook　herself　impatiently。　Masarek　was　no　child　to　be　killed　by　Mexican　smugglers。
Nonetheless；　she　would　take　care　to　keep　a　car　between　herself　and　the　van　as　she　approached　it。
Refugio　swore　softly　as　the　woman’s　gold…white　hair　slipped　from　cover　to　cover　like　a　ghost。
He　had　been　watching　in　the　sideview　mirror　when　Salvador　fell　backward　out　of　the　car。
Refugio　could　not　tell　precisely　what　had　gone　wrong；　but　he　could　see　that　Salvador　was
certainly　hurt　and　probably　dead。　Refugio　also　knew　that　Kestrel　wanted　the　woman　alive。
Silently；　Refugio　rolled　down　the　window　on　the　passenger　side　of　the　car。　The　barrel　of　his　。45
scraped　on　metal　as　he　aimed　back　along　the　body　of　the　truck。　Kestrel　wanted　the　blonde　alive；
yes；　but　he　wanted　the　metal　even　more。　Refugio　knew　he　was　too　weak　to　take　a　live　prisoner
who　had　dispatched　Salvador　as　coolly　as　a　campesina　grinding　corn。　He　would　have　to　kill
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Vanessa。
Vanessa　darted　along　the　curb　to　the　cover　of　another　car。　Sweating；　Refugio　took　aim　carefully；
knowing　that　if