tc.redrabbit-第99节

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　going　to　say；〃　Moore　admitted。　He'd　also　been　there　and　done　that；　out　in　the　field。　But　so　much　of　that　job　was　posed　of　waiting；　too。　No　man　controlled　his　fate；　a　knowledge　that　came　late　in　life。　You　just　tried　to　muddle　along　from　one　point　to　another；　making　as　few　mistakes　as　possible。
　　　〃Tell　the　President　about　this　one　yet？〃
　　　Moore　shook　his　head。　〃No　sense　getting　him　overly　excited。　If　he　thinks　this　guy　has　information　that　he　doesn't　have…hell；　why　disappoint　him？　We　do　enough　of　that　here；　don't　we？〃
　　　〃Arthur；　we　never　have　enough　information；　and　the　more　we　get；　the　more　we　appreciate　what　we　need　and　don't　have。〃
　　　〃James；　my　boy；　neither　one　of　us　is　educated　to　be　a　philosopher。〃
　　　〃es　with　the　gray　hair；　Arthur。〃　Then　Mike　Bostock　walked　in。
　　　〃Couple　more　days　and　BEATRIX　goes　into　the　history　books；〃　he　announced　with　a　smile。
　　　〃Mike；　where　the　hell　did　you　learn　to　believe　in　Santa　Claus？〃　the　DCI　asked。
　　　〃Judge；　it's　like　this：　We　got　us　a　defector　who's　defecting　right　now。　We　have　a　good　team　to　get　him　out　of　Redland。　You　trust　your　troops　to　do　the　job　you　send　them　out　to　do。〃
　　　〃But　they're　not　all　our　troops；〃　Greer　pointed　out。
　　　〃Basil　runs　a　good　shop；　Admiral。　You　know　that。〃
　　　〃True；〃　Greer　admitted。
　　　〃So；　you　just　wait　to　see　what's　under　the　Christmas　tree；　Mike？〃　Moore　asked。
　　　〃I　sent　Santa　my　letter；　and　Santa　always　delivers。　Everybody　knows　that。〃　He　was　beaming　at　the　possibilities。　〃What　are　we　going　to　do　with　him　when　he　arrives？〃
　　　〃The　farmhouse　out　at　Winchester；　I　imagine；〃　Moore　thought　out　loud。　〃Give　him　a　nice　place　to　depressurize…let　him　travel　around　some　on　day　trips。〃
　　　〃What　stipend？〃　Greer　inquired。
　　　〃Depends；〃　Moore　said。　He　was　the　one　who　controlled　that　out　of　the　Agency's　black　budget。　〃If　it's　good　information。。。　oh；　as　much　as　a　million；　I　imagine。　And　a　nice　place　to　work　after　we　tickle　all　of　it　out　of　him。〃
　　　〃Where；　I　wonder？〃　Bostock　put　in。
　　　〃Oh；　we　let　him　decide　that。〃
　　　It　was　both　a　simple　and　a　plex　process。　The　arriving　Rabbit　family　would　have　to　learn　English。　New　identities。　They'd　need　new　names；　for　starters；　probably　make　them　Norwegian　immigrants　to　explain　away　the　accents。　CIA　had　the　power　to　admit　a　total　of　one　hundred　new　citizens　every　year　through　the　Immigration　and　Naturalization　Service　（and　they'd　never　used　them　all　up）。　The　Rabbits　would　need　a　set　of　Social　Security　numbers；　driver's　licenses…probably　driving　lessons　beforehand；　maybe　for　both；　certainly　for　the　wife…from　the　monwealth　of　Virginia。　（The　Agency　had　a　cordial　relationship　with　the　state　government。　Richmond　never　asked　too　many　questions。）
　　　Then　came　the　psychological　help　for　people　who'd　walked　away　from　everything　they'd　ever　known　and　had　to　find　their　footing　in　a　new　and　grossly　different　country。　The　Agency　had　a　Columbia　University　professor　of　psychology　on　retainer　to　handle　that。　Then　they'd　get　some　older　defectors　to　hand…walk　them　through　the　transition。　None　of　this　was　ever　easy　on　the　new　immigrants。　For　Russians；　America　was　like　a　toy　store　for　a　child　who'd　never　known　such　a　thing　as　a　toy　store　existed…it　was　overwhelming　in　every　respect；　with　virtually　no　mon　points　of　parison；　almost　like　a　different　planet。　They　had　to　make　it　as　fortable　for　the　defectors　as　possible。　First；　for　the　information；　and　second；　to　make　sure　they　didn't　want　to　go　back…it　would　be　almost　certain　death；　at　least　for　the　husband；　but　it　had　happened　before；　so　strong　was　the　call　of　home　for　every　man。
　　　〃If　he　likes　a　cold　climate；　send　him　to　Minneapolis…Saint　Paul；〃　Greer　suggested。　〃But；　gentlemen；　we　are　getting　a　little　bit　ahead　of　ourselves。〃
　　　〃James；　you　are　always　the　voice　of　sober　counsel；〃　the　DCI　observed　with　a　smile。
　　　〃Somebody　has　to　be。　The　eggs　haven't　hatched　yet；　people。　Then　we　count　the　chicks。〃
　　　And　what　if　he　doesn't　know　squat？　Moore　thought。　What　if　he's　just　a　guy　who　wants　a　ticket　out？
　　　God　damn　this　business！　the　DCI　pleted　the　thought。
　　　〃Well；　Basil　will　keep　us　posted；　and　we　have　your　boy　Ryan　looking　out　for　our　interests。〃
　　　〃That's　great　news；　Judge。　Basil　must　be　laughing　into　his　beer　about　that。〃
　　　〃He's　a　good　boy；　Mike。　Don't　underestimate　him。　Those　who　did　are　in　Maryland　State　Penitentiary　now；　waiting　for　the　appeals　process　to　play　out；〃　Greer　said；　in　defense　of　his　protege。
　　　〃Well；　yeah；　he　was　a　Marine　once；〃　Bostock　conceded。　〃What　do　I　tell　Bob　when　he　calls　in？〃
　　　〃Nothing；〃　the　DCI　said　at　once。　〃Until　we　find　out　from　the　Rabbit　what　part　of　our　ms　are　promised；　we　are　careful　what　goes　out　on　a　wire。　Clear？〃
　　　Bostock　nodded　his　head　like　a　first…grader。　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　　　〃I've　had　S　and　T　go　over　our　phone　lines。　They　say　they're　clean。　Chip　Bennett　is　still　raising　hell　and　running　in　circles　at　Fort　Meade。〃　Moore　didn't　have　to　say　that　this　alleged　claim　from　the　Rabbit　was　the　scariest　revelation　to　Washington　since　Pearl　Harbor。　But　maybe　they'd　be　able　to　turn　it　around　on　Ivan。　Hope　sprang　eternal　at　Langley；　just　like　everywhere　else。　It　was　unlikely　that　the　Russians　knew　anything　his　Directorate　of　Science　and　Technology　didn't；　but　you　had　to　pay　to　see　the　cards。
　　　Ryan　was　quietly　packing　his　things。　Cathy　was　better　at　it；　but　he　didn't　know　what　he'd　need。　How　did　one　pack　for　being　secret…agent　man？　Business　suit。　His　old　Marine　utilities？　（He　still　had　them；　butter　bar　on　the　collar　and　all。）　Nice　leather　shoes？　Sneaks？　That；　he　thought；　sounded　appropriate。　He　ended　up　deciding　on　a　middle…of…the…road　suit　and　two　pairs　of　walking　shoes；　one　semiformal；　one　informal。　And　it　all　had　to　fit　in　one　bag…for　that；　an　L。L。　Bean　canvas　two…suiter　that　was　easy　to　carry　and　fairly　anonymous。　He　left　his　passport　in　the　desk　drawer。　Sir　Basil　would　be　giving　him　a　nice　new　British　one；　another　diplomatic　or　fuck…you　passport。　Probably　a　new　name　to　go　with　it。　Damn；　Jack　thought；　a　new　name　to　remember　and　respond　to。　He　was　used　to　having　only　one。
　　　One　nice　thing　about　Merrill　Lynch：　You　always　knew　who　the　hell　you　were。　Sure；　Jack's　mind　went　on；　let　the　whole　damned　world　know　you　were　a　flunky　of　Joe　Muller。　Not　in　this　lifetime。　Any　opinionated　asshole　could　make　money；　and　his　father…in…law　was　one　of　them。
　　　〃Finished？〃　Cathy　asked　from　behind　him。
　　　〃Just　about；　babe；〃　Jack　answered。
　　　〃It's　not　dangerous；　what　you're　doing；　is　it？〃
　　　〃I　don't　expect　it　to　be；　babe。〃　But　Jack　couldn't　lie；　and　his　uncertainty　conveyed　just　enough。
　　　〃Where　are　you　going？〃
　　　〃I　told　you；　remember；　Germany。〃　Uh…oh。　She　caught　me　again。
　　　〃Some　NATO　thing？〃
　　　〃That's　what　they　tell　me。〃
　　　〃What　do　you　do　in　London；　Jack？　Century　House；　that's　intelligence　stuff；　and…〃
　　　〃Cathy；　I've　told　you　before。　I'm　an　analyst。　I　go　over　information　from　various　sources；　and　I　try　to　figure　out　what　it　means；　and　I　write　reports　for　people　to　read。　You　know；　it's　not　all　that　different　from　what　I　did　at　Merrill　Lynch。　My　job　is　to　look　at　information　and　figure　out　what　it　really　means。　They　think　I'm　good　at　it。〃
　　　〃But　nothing　with　guns？〃　Half　a　question　and　half　an　observation。　Jack　supposed　it　was　from　her　work　in　the　Emergency　Room　at　Hopkins。　As　a　group；　doctors　didn't　much　care　for　firearms；　except　the　ones　who　liked　hunting　birds　in　the　fall。　She　didn't　like　the　Remington　shotgun　in　his　closet；　unloaded；　and　she　liked　the　Browning　Hi…Power　hidden　on　the　shelf　in　his　closet；　loaded；　even　less。
　　　〃Honey；　no；　no　guns；　not　at　all。　I'm　not　that　kind　of　spook。〃
　　　〃Okay；〃　she　semi…conceded。　She　didn't　believe　him　pletely；　but　she　knew　he　couldn't　say　what　he　was　doing　any　more　than　she　could　discuss　her　patients　with　him。　In　that　understanding　came　her　frustration。　〃Just　so　you're　not　away　too　long。〃
　　　〃Babe；　you　know　I　hate　being　away　from　you。　I　can't　even　sleep　worth　a　damn　unless　you're　next　to　me。〃
　　　〃So　take　me　with　you？〃
　　　〃So　you　can　go　shopping　in　Germany？　For　what？　Dirndls　for　Sally？〃
　　　〃Well；　she　likes　the　Heidi　movies。〃　It　was　a　weak　offering。
　　　〃Nice　try；　babe。　Wish　you　could；　but　you　can't。〃
　　　〃Oh；　damn；〃　Lady　Ryan　observed。
　　　〃We　live　in　an　imperfect　world；　babe。〃
　　　She　especially　hated　that　aphorism　of　his；　and　her　reply　was　an　un…grammatical　grunt。　But；　really；　there　was　no　reply　she　could　make。
　　　Minutes　later；　in　bed；　Jack　wondered　what　the　hell　he　would　be　doing。　Reason　told　him　that　it　would　be　routine　in　every　respect；　except　for　the　location。　But　except　for　one　little　thing；　Abe　Lincoln　had　enjoyed　that　play　at　Ford's　Theater。　He'd　be　on　foreign　soil…no；　hostile　foreign　soil。　He　was　already　living　in　a　foreign　place；　and；　friendly　as　the　Brits　were；　only　home　was　home。　But　the　Brits　liked　him。　The　Hungarians　wouldn't。　They　might　not　take　a　shot　at　him；　but　neither　would　they　give　him　the　key　to　the　city。　And　what　if　they　found　out　he　was　traveling　on　a　false　passport？　What　did　the　Vienna　Convention　say　about　that？　But　he　couldn't　wimp　out　on　this　one；　could　he？　He　was　an　ex…Marine。　He　was　supposed　to　be　fearless。　Yeah；　sure。　About　the　only　good　thing　that　had　happened　at　his　house　a　few　months　back　was　that　he'd　made　a　head　call　before　the　bad　guys　had　crashed　the　party；　and　so　h