tc.patriotgames-第97节

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e　list　of　possible　connections　and　eliminate　every　one　of　them。　They'd　never　go　back　there　again。　Cops　had　their　rules　and　procedures；　and　he'd　unhesitatingly　copied　the　principle　to　deny　its　advantage　to　his　opponents。　He　had　established　the　rules　for　himself　after　seeing　what　catastrophes　resulted　from　having　none。　The　radical　groups　he'd　hovered　around　in　his　college　days　had　died　because　of　their　arrogance　and　stupidity；　their　underestimation　of　the　skill　of　their　enemies。　Fundamentally；　they'd　died　because　they　were　unworthy　of　success。　Victory　es　only　to　those　prepared　to　make　it；　and　take　it；　Alex　thought。　He　was　even　able　to　keep　from　congratulating　himself　on　spotting　the　feds。　It　was　simple　prudence；　not　genius。　His　route　had　been　chosen　with　an　eye　to　taking　note　of　such　things。　He　already　had　another　promising　site　for　weapons　training。

　　　　〃Erik　Martens；〃　Ryan　breathed。　〃We　meet　again。〃　
　　　　All　of　the　FBI's　data　had　been　forwarded　to　the　Central　Intelligence　Agency's　working　group　within　hours　of　its　receipt。　The　Uzi　that　had　been　recovered　　Ryan　marveled　at　how　that　had　happened！　　had；　he　saw；　been　fabricated　in　Singapore；　at　a　plant　that　also　made　a　version　of　the　M…16　rifle　that　he'd　carried　in　the　Corps；　and　a　number　of　other　military　arms；　both　East　and　West；　for　sale　to　third…world　countries　。　。　。　and　other　interested　parties。　From　his　work　the　previous　summer；　Ryan　knew　that　there　were　quite　a　few　such　factories；　and　quite　a　few　governments　whose　only　measure　for　the　legitimacy　of　an　arms　purchaser　was　his　credit　rating。　Even　those　who　paid　lip…service　to　such　niceties　as　〃end…user　certificates〃　often　turned　a　blind　eye　to　the　reputation　of　a　dealer　who　never　quite　proved　to　be　on　the　wrong　side　of　the　shadowy　line　that　was　supposed　to　distinguish　the　honest　from　the　others。　Since　it　was　the　dealer's　government　that　generally　made　this　determination；　yet　another　variable　was　added　to　an　already　inexact　equation。
　　　　Such　was　the　case　with　Mr。　Martens。　A　very　petent　man　in　his　business；　a　man　with　remarkable　connections；　Martens　had　once　worked　with　the　CIA…backed　UNITA　rebels　in　Angola　until　a　more　regular　pipeline　had　been　established。　His　principal　asset；　however；　was　his　ability　to　obtain　items　for　the　South　African　government。　His　last　major　coup　had　been　obtaining　the　manufacturing　tools　and　dies　for　the　Milan　antitank　missile；　a　weapon　that　could　not　be　legally　shipped　to　the　Afrikaner　government　due　to　the　Western　embargo。　After　three　months'　creative　effort　on　his　part；　the　government's　own　armaments　factories　would　be　making　it　themselves。　His　fee　for　that　had　doubtless　been　noteworthy；　Ryan　knew；　though　the　CIA　had　been　unable　to　ascertain　just　how　noteworthy。　The　man　owned　his　own　business　jet；　a　Grumman　G…3　with　intercontinental　range。　To　make　sure　that　he　could　fly　it　anywhere　he　wished。　Martens　had　obtained　weapons　for　a　number　of　black　African　nations；　and　even　missiles　for　Argentina。　He　could　go　to　any　corner　of　the　world　and　find　a　government　that　was　in　his　debt。　The　man　would　have　been　a　sensation　on　Wall　Street　or　any　other　marketplace；　Ryan　smiled　to　himself。　He　could　deal　with　anyone；　could　market　weapons　the　way　that　people　in　Chicago　traded　wheat　futures。
　　　　The　Uzis　from　Singapore　had　e　to　him。　Everyone　loved　the　Uzi。　Even　the　Czechs　had　tried　to　copy　it；　but　without　great　mercial　success。　The　Israelis　sold　them　by　the　thousands　to　military　and　security　forces；　always　　most　of　the　time　　following　the　rules　that　the　United　States　insisted　upon。　Quite　a　few　had　found　their　way　to　South　Africa；　Ryan　read；　until　the　embargo　had　made　it　rather　more　difficult。　Is　that　the　reason　they　finally　let　someone　make　the　gun　under　license？　Jack　wondered。　Let　someone　else　broaden　the　market　for　you；　and　just　keep　the　profits　。　。　。　
　　　　The　shipment　had　been　five　thousand　units　。　。　。　about　two　million　dollars；　wholesale。　Not　very　much；　really；　enough　to　equip　a　city　police　force　or　a　regiment　of　paratroopers；　depending　on　the　receiving　government's　orientation。　Large　enough　to　show　a　profit　for　Mr。　Martens；　small　enough　not　to　attract　a　great　deal　of　attention。　One　truckload；　Ryan　wondered；　maybe　two？　The　pallets　of　boxes　would　be　tucked　into　a　corner　of　his　warehouse；　technically　supervised　by　his　government；　but　more　likely　in　fact　to　be　Martens'　private　domain　。　。　。　
　　　　That's　what　Sir　Basil　Charleston　told　me　at　the　dinner；　Ryan　reminded　himself。　You　didn't　pay　enough　attention　to　that　South　African　chap　。　。　。　So　the　Brits　think　he　deals　to　terrorists　。　。　。　directly？　No；　his　government　wouldn't　tolerate　that。　Probably　wouldn't；　Ryan　corrected　himself。　The　guns　might　find　their　way　to　the　African　National　Congress；　which　might　not　be　very　good　news　for　the　government　they　were　pledged　to　destroy。　So　now　Ryan　had　to　find　an　intermediary。　It　took　thirty　minutes　to　get　that　file；　involving　a　call　to　Marty　Cantor。
　　　　The　file　was　a　disaster。　Martens　had　eight　known　and　fifteen　suspected　intermediary　agents　。　。　。　one　or　two　in　every　country　he　sold　to　　of　course！　Ryan　punched　Cantor's　number　again。　
　　　　〃I　take　it　we've　never　talked　to　Martens？〃　Ryan　asked。
　　　　〃Not　for　a　few　years。　He　ran　some　guns　into　Angola　for　us；　but　we　didn't　like　the　way　he　handled　things。〃
　　　　〃How　so？〃
　　　　〃The　man's　something　of　a　crook；〃　Cantor　replied。　〃That's　not　terribly　unusual　in　the　arms　business；　but　we　try　to　avoid　the　type。　We　set　up　our　own　pipeline　after　the　Congress　took　away　the　restriction　on　those　operations。〃　
　　　　〃I　got　twenty…three　names　here；〃　Ryan　said。
　　　　〃Yeah；　I'm　familiar　with　the　file。　We　thought　he　was　passing　arms　to　an　Iranian…sponsored　group　last　November；　but　it　turned　out　he　wasn't。　It　took　us　a　couple　of　months　to　clear　him。　It　would　have　been　a　whole　lot　easier　if　we'd　been　able　to　talk　to　him。〃　
　　　　〃What　about　the　Brits？〃　Jack　asked。
　　　　〃Stone　wall；〃　Marty　said。　〃Every　time　they　try　to　talk　with　him；　some　big　ol'　Afrikaner　soldier　says　no。　You　can't　blame　them；　really；　if　the　West　treats　them　like　pariahs；　they're　sure　as　hell　going　to　act　like　pariahs。　The　other　thing　to　remember　is；　pariahs　stick　together。〃
　　　　〃So　we　don't　know　what　we　need　to　know　about　this　guy　and　we're　not　going　to　find　out。〃　
　　　　〃I　didn't　say　that　exactly。〃
　　　　〃Then　we're　sending　people　in　to　check　a　few　things　out？〃　Ryan　asked　hopefully。　
　　　　〃I　didn't　say　that　either。〃　
　　　　〃Dammit；　Marty！〃
　　　　〃Jack；　you　are　not　cleared　to　know　anything　about　field　operations。　In　case　you　haven't　noticed；　not　one　of　the　files　you've　seen　tells　you　how　the　information　gets　in　here。〃
　　　　Ryan　had　noticed　that。　Informants　weren't　named；　meeting　places　weren't　specified；　and　the　methods　used　to　pass　the　information　were　nowhere　to　be　found。　〃Okay；　may　I　safely　assume　that　we　will；　by　some　unknown　means；　get　more　data　on　this　gentleman？〃
　　　　〃You　may　safely　assume　that　the　possibility　is　being　considered。〃　
　　　　〃He　may　be　the　best　lead　we　have；〃　Jack　pointed　out。　
　　　　〃I　know。〃
　　　　〃This　can　be　pretty　frustrating　stuff；　Marty；〃　Ryan　said；　getting　that　off　his　chest。
　　　　〃Tell　me　about　it；〃　Cantor　chuckled。　〃Wait　till　you　get　involved　with　something　really　important　　sorry；　but　you　know　what　I　mean。　Like　what　the　Politburo　people　really　think　about　something；　or　how　powerful　and　accurate　their　missiles　are；　or　whether　they　have　somebody　planted　in　this　building。〃　
　　　　〃One　problem　at　a　time。〃
　　　　〃Yeah；　that　must　be　nice；　sport；　just　to　have　one　problem　at　a　time。〃　
　　　　〃When　can　I　expect　something　on　Martens？〃　Ryan　asked。　
　　　　〃You'll　know　when　it　es　in；〃　Cantor　promised。　〃　'Bye。〃　
　　　　〃Great。〃　Jack　spent　the　rest　of　the　day　and　part　of　another　looking　through　the　list　of　people　Martens　had　dealt　with。　It　was　a　relief　to　have　to　go　back　to　teaching　class　the　next　two　days；　but　he　did　find　one　possible　connection。　The　Mercury　motors　found　on　the　Zodiac　used　by　the　ULA　had　probably　　the　bookkeeping　had　broken　down　in　Europe　　gone　through　a　Maltese　dealer　with　whom　Martens　had　done　a　little　business。

　　　　The　good　news　of　the　spring　was　that　Ernie　was　a　quick　study。　The　dog　got　the　hang　of　relieving　himself　outside　within　the　first　two　weeks；　which　relieved　Jack　of　a　message　from　his　daughter；　〃Daaaaddy；　there's　a　little　proooblem　。　。　。　〃　invariably　followed　by　a　question　from　his　wife：　〃Having　fun；　Jack？〃　In　fact；　even　his　wife　admitted　that　the　dog　was　working　out　nicely。　Ernie　could　only　be　separated　from　their　daughter　with　a　hard　tug　on　his　leash。　He　now　slept　in　her　bed；　except　when　he　patrolled　the　house　every　few　hours。　It　was　somewhat　unnerving　at　first　to　see　the　dog　　rather；　to　see　a　black　mass　darker　than　the　night　a　few　inches　from　one's　face　　when　Ernie　seemed　to　be　reporting　that　everything　was　clear　before　he　headed　back　to　Sally's　room　for　two　more　hours　of　protective　slumber。　He　was　still　a　puppy；　with　impossibly　long　legs　and　massive　webbed　feet；　and　he　still　liked　to　chew　things。　When　that　had　included　the　leg　of　one　of　Sally's　Barbie　dolls；　it　resulted　in　a　furious　scolding　from　his　owner　that　ended　when　he　started　licking　Sally's　face　by　way　of　contrition。
　　　　Sally　was　finally　back　to　normal。　As　the　doctors　had　promised　her　parents；　her　legs　were　fully　healed；　and　she　was　running