gns.theplutopact-第6节

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at　joke　when　he　undid　her　dress　and　loosened　her　bra。　Those　nipples　were　as　large　and　firm　as　Coyle　had　expected。
　　
　　She　giggled　again　when　he　felt　up　her　skirt；　and　squeezed　a　couple　of　fingers　between　the　tight…fitting　elastic　of　her　pants。　They　began　kissing…she　clearly　had　never　had　a　tongue　thrust　into　her　mouth　before；　but　she　liked　it。　AH　the　time　he　rubbed　with　his　exploring　fingers；　then　used　his　free　hand　to　guide　her　fingers　on　to　the　hard　bulge　in　his　trousers。　Five　minutes　later　she　was　shuddering　violently；　clutching　at　him；　sobbing…and　then　she　was　sober　again；　and　asking　to　be　taken　home。
　　
　　He　wondered　if　she　would　turn　up　at　the　office　next　morning；　and　his　stomach　muscles　grew　taut　when　at　ten　minutes　past　nine　there　was　still　no　sign　of　her。　At　twenty…five　past　he　sighed　with　relief　as　she　came　trotting　in；　and　later　he　could　have　shouted　his　joy　to　the　whole　world　when；　amidst　blushes　and　stammers；　she　thanked　him　for　a　wonderful　evening。
　　
　　So　he　had　asked　her　out　again。　It　required　more　ingenuity　this　time；　in　order　to　allay　any　suspicions　growing　in　the　minds　of　her　parents。　He　admired　her　for　the　convincing　manner　in　which　she　lied　to　them　over　the　telephone　about　going　to　the　cinema　with　Margaret　from　the　type…setting　department。　Had　Anne's　parents　known　Margaret　they　would　have　been　far　more　concerned；　for　Margaret　was　a　self…confessed　lesbian。
　　
　　Jane　had　not　appeared　the'　least　concerned　that　Bob　Coyle　would　be　home　late。　Recently　he　had　the　impression　that　she　preferred　to　have　the　house　to　herself　in　the　evenings。　If　she　suspected　he　had　taken　a　mistress；　she　did　not　seem　to　care。
　　
　　Coyle　drove　out　to　that　same　place　again；　there　did　not　seem　any　reason　to　go　elsewhere。　By　this　time　surely　Anne　was　fully　aware　of　his　intentions。　The　fact　that　she　lifted　herself　up　so　that　he　could　slide　her　pants　down；　confirmed　this。　She　was　only　too　eager　to　clamber　over　on　to　the　more　spacious　back　seat。
　　
　　That　was　how　it　had　all　begun。　Coyle　drained　the　last　of　his　whisky；　his　gaze　still　fixed　on　the　wallpaper；　only　dimly　aware　that　he　had　an　erection。　He　pondered　over　the　problems　involved　in　divorcing　Jane。　She　certainly　did　not　want　him　sexually　nowadays。
　　
　　Yet　Anne　had　never　once　suggested　a　break…up　of　his　marriage。　His　greatest　fear　was　that　one　day　she　would　find　herself　a　boyfriend；　a　younger　man；　acceptable　to　her　parents；　who　had　a　damned　sight　more　to　offer　her　than　a　married　newspaperman　fast　approaching　middle…age。　Sometimes　he　contemplated　getting　her　pregnant。　He　wondered　what　she　would　do　if　that　happened。　She　would　either　have　to　demand　a　secure　relationship　or　an　abortion。　Maybe　he　ought　to　try　it　and　see。　At　least　he　would　know　where　he　stood。
　　
　　Plutonium　was　to　blame。　He　crushed　the　empty　glass　fiercely　between　his　fingers。　Pluto。　And　Balzur。
　　
　　'Bob！'
　　
　　He　started；　unaware　that　the　office　door　had　opened；　and　Anne　stood　there　smiling；　her　gaze　focused　on　the　protrusion　in　his　trousers。
　　
　　'Sorry；　I　was　miles　away；'　he　swung　his　feet　to　the　floor；　and　she　advanced　on　him；　perching　delicately　on　his　knee；　one　arm　around　his　neck；　the　fingers　of　the　other　starting　to　caress　his　hardness　almost　immediately。
　　
　　'I　trust　you　were　thinking　about　me。'　Her　eyebrows　were　raised　mockingly。
　　
　　'I　was；'　he　admitted　truthfully。　'I　was　just　thinking　about　how　it　all　happened；　how　we　got　together　。　。　。　and　how　you've　been　transformed　from　a　sweet　little　innocent　teenager　into　the　most　beautiful；　sexually　desirable　woman　imaginable。'
　　
　　'And　your　journalistic　training　enables　you　to　put　it　all　so　delightfully　into　words；'　she　continued　to　stroke　him。　'That's　something　which　an　awful　lot　of　women　miss　out　on。　You　haven't　forgotten　we're　going　out　tomorrow　night？'
　　
　　'I　can　hardly　wait。'
　　
　　'Perhaps　your　wife　will　oblige　you　tonight。'
　　
　　'I　shan't　ask　her。'
　　
　　'Oh；　by　the　way；　Winston　Dyne　rang　while　you　were　out。　He　was　a　bit　shirty。　He　didn't　like　your　article　in　last　week's　edition；　the　reference　to　the　Balzur　legend　and　the　link　between　Pluto　and　plutonium。　He　says　you're　playing　on　sensationalism　which　could　have　a　detrimental　psychological　effect　on　the　people　of　this　town。　He　wants　to　see　you；　so　I've　arranged　for　you　to　be　up　there　at　ten　in　the　morning。'
　　
　　'Darling；'　Coyle　craned　his　neck　up　so　that　their　lips　brushed。　'You　are　Britain's　number…one　secretary；　most　definitely。　Twice　over　the　past　few　months　I　have　been　refused　an　interview　with　Dyne。　Barbed　wire；　armed　guards；　and　Christ　knows　what　else；　and　now　I'm　actually　going　inside　the　devil's　stronghold　itself。　And　it　took　you　to　fix　it。'
　　
　　'He's　having　your　pass　delivered　here　later　today；'　she　purred。　'My　Bob's　making　quite　a　name　for　himself；　isn't　he？　Even　the　Boffins　are　sitting　up　and　taking　notice　of　him。'
　　
　　Trying　to　shut　me　up；　you　mean；'　he　laughed；　and　stiffened　as　he　felt　his　zip　being　slowly　pulled　down。　'We'd　better　lock　the　door；'　he　signed。
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　3
　　
　　Coyle　experienced　an　acute　sense　of　uneasiness　as　he　eased　his　foot　off　the　Avenger's　accelerator　some　twenty　yards　from　the　huge　twenty…foot…high　steel…barred　barrier。　An　elevated　enclosed　platform　was　strategically　positioned　above　the　entrance　to　the　nuclear　waste　disposal　and　recycling　centre。　He　noticed　a　face　behind　a　small　aperture；　eyes　that　watched　him　unwaveringly。　Without　a　doubt　the　man　was　holding　a　rifle；　possibly　a　submachine…gun；　with　his　thumb　positioned　on　the　safety…catch。
　　
　　The　Avenger　rolled　forward　until　it　was　barely　five　yards　from　the　checkpoint。　A　sentry…box　stood　to　the　right；　outside　the　barbed…wire　fencing。
　　
　　Coyle　wound　the　window　down　and　held　up　the　green　card　so　that　it　was　visible　to　the　man　on　checkpoint。　The　newspaperman　cursed　beneath　his　breath；　more　to　boost　his　own　morale　than　from　anger。　All　part　of　the　process；　he　decided。　Another　Berlin　Wall。　Playing　on　my　nerves…or　trying　to。　He　pitied　the　workers　who　had　to　pass　to　and　fro　daily。　Just　like　a　Siberian　labour　camp。
　　
　　Perhaps　both　these　guys　watching　him　from　their　sentry　positions　had　read　his　article　in　last　week's　Herald。　Maybe　Dyne　had　had　it　distributed　amongst　the　men。　'This　is　the　guy　who　is　starting　all　the　rumours；　using　a　legend　to　help　cause　mass　hysteria。　Give　him　the　treatment。　One　visit；　and　he　won't　want　to　e　back　again'。　No；　that　wasn't　right。　It　would　all　get　in　the　paper；　and　that　wouldn't　be　good　publicity。
　　
　　Nevertheless；　nobody　was　in　a　hurry。　Coyle　lit　a　cigarette；　carefully　and　deliberately；　nonchalantly　tossing　the　spent　match　in　the　direction　of　the　lower　checkpoint。　He　was　genuinely　angry　now；　and　felt　like　sounding　his　horn；　or　calling　out　'Hey　you！'　Instead　he　flicked　cigarette　ash　into　the　wind；　and　wished　that　a　spark　would　hit　this　gateway　dictator　in　the　eye。
　　
　　At　last　the　man　advanced　slowly　towards　him。　He　was　heavily　built；　a　tightly…buttoned　uniform　holding　back　rolls　of　fat。　Slav　features；　too；　or　was　that　his　imagination？　Just　plain　flat…faced　and　ugly。　He　carried　a　revolver　in　a　holster；　the　flap…type　which　prevented　a　fast　draw。　Coyle　guessed　that　in　the　event　of　trouble；　the　upper　man　would　do　the　shooting。
　　
　　The　guard　held　out　his　hand　for　the　pass。　Co》le　handed　it　over；　intending　to　meet　his　gaze；　but　the　other　seemed　interested　only　in　the　writing　on　the　thin　card。　He　certainly　took　his　time　over　it；　and　Coyle　considered　perhaps　the　fellow　was　illiterate；　but　again　decided　it　was　all　part　of　the　demoralising　process。　Neither　spoke；　and　there　was　no　need　to。　Everything　was　written　on　that　pass。　Name。　Date。　Reason　for　visit。　Time　of　admittance　。　。　。　The　big　man　glanced　at　his　watch。　The　card　stated　9。55。a。m。　It　was　now　9。50。　He　handed　the　card　back；　and　returned　to　his　post　without　a　word。　Everything　had　been　conducted　in　total　silence。　Not　even　a　grunt。
　　
　　Coyle　revved　up　his　engine；　expecting　the　gates　to　open　automatically。　Nothing　happened。　He　was　on　the　point　of　attracting　the　man's　attention　again；　when　he　noticed　the　hands　of　his　wristwatch：　9。54　a。m。
　　
　　At　9。55　the　gates　swung　back　smoothly；　and　he　drove　slowly　through。　A　black　tarmac　track　headed　directly　across　the　red　shale　pound　towards　the　giant　towers；　with　5　mph　speed…limit　signs　spaced　at　intervals　of　a　hundred　yards。　Several　hundred　cars　were　parked　diagonally　to　his　right；　obviously　belonging　to　the　local　labour…force。　He　kept　going　until　he　reached　the　second　barrier。
　　
　　Here　the　uniformed　Atomic　Energy　Authority　policeman　almost　smiled。　Almost。　Coyle　had　the　impression　that　the　man　nearly　forgot　his　orders；　and　then　remembered　them　just　in　time。　Again　the　revolver　was　worn　in　a　covered　holster；　but　the　flap　was　undone。
　　
　　The　man　took　the　green　card；　read　it　through　minutely；　and　then　pointed　in　the　direction　of　a　squat；　one…storied　building　standing　on　its　own　beside　what　were　obviously　offices　and　laboratories。
　　
　　'Park　over　there；　sir。　The　man　on　duty　will　escort　you　to　the　HOR's　office。'
　　
　　Coyle　did　as　directed。　The　uniformed　officer　inside　the　glass　doors　watched　him　closely　as　he　clim