rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第14节

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　Smith　nodded。　〃All　right。　First；　I　knew　you　were　in　Moscow　but　not　where　to　find　you。　Others　helped　with　that。　Second；　I　need　your　help　because　a　man…　a　good　man…　is　dead　and　I　want　to　find　out　what　happened　to　him。〃
　Randi　considered　his　words。　She　could　tell　when　people　were　lying；　even　professionals　whose　stock　in　trade　was　mendacity。　Her　instincts　told　her　that　Smith　was　giving　her　the　truth…　or　at　least　as　much　of　it　as　he　could。
　〃I'm　listening；　Jon。〃
　Smith　sketched　out　who　Danko　was；　then　described　his　encounter　with　the　Russian　in　minute　detail。　He　did　not　shy　away　from　the　grisly　details　of　the　massacre　at　St。　Mark's。　Randi　was　no　stranger　to　violence。
　〃Are　you　sure　the　hunters　weren't　after　you　as　well？〃　she　asked。
　〃If　I'd　been　the　primary　target；　I'd　be　dead；〃　Smith　replied　grimly。　‘Their　target　was　Danko；　they　made　sure　he　was　dead。　Only　then　did　they　turn　on　me。〃
　Randi　shook　her　head。　〃Saved　by　a　piano。　My　God！　I　can't　believe　that　you　chased　after　them　unarmed。　You're　lucky　that　someone　got　to　them　first。〃　She　took　a　deep　breath。　〃What　is　it　you　want；　Jon…　to　avenge　Danko　or　to　get　into　Bioaparat？〃
　〃Yuri　sacrificed　his　life　to　bring　me　a　secret；〃　he　replied。　〃If　I　uncover　it；　I'll　find　whoever　killed　him。　But　I　think　that　whoever　it　is；　he　or　they　are　also　linked　to　Bioaparat。〃
　〃What　do　you　want　from　me？〃
　〃Your　best　contacts　in　Russia；　people　in　authority；　people　you　would　trust。〃
　She　stared　at　the　watercolors。　〃Oleg　Kirov；　a　major…general　in　the　Russian　Federal　Security　Service。　He's　very　much　like　the　Danko　you　describe：　realistic；　trustworthy；　a　patriot。　His　number　two　is　Lara　Telegin。　Very　bright；　politically　savvy；　very　good　in　the　field。〃
　〃I　remember　meeting　Kirov　when　I　was　working　for　USAMRIID；〃　Smith　said。　〃But　I　don't　know　him　well　enough　to　call　out　of　the　blue。　Can　you　set　up　a　meeting？〃
　〃Of　course。　But　Kirov　will　want　to　know　if　you're　acting　in　any　official　capacity…　and　so　would　I〃
　〃I'm　not　working　for　USAMRIID　or　any　intelligence　agency。　That's　the　truth。〃
　She　looked　at　him　wryly。　〃As　far　as　it　goes。〃　She　held　up　her　hands　to　ward　off　his　protest。　〃Hey；　I　know　how　these　things　work。　So　does　Kirov。〃
　〃This　means　a　lot　to　me；　Randi。〃
　She　brushed　away　his　thanks；　and　an　unfortable　silence　descended　between　them。
　〃There　are　things　I　need　to　tell　you；〃　Smith　said　at　last。　〃Personal　things。〃
　He　described　his　visit　to　Sophia's　grave　and　told　her　about　the　closure　he　had　managed　to　find。　〃After　the　funeral；　I　felt　there　were　things　you　and　I　had　to　say　to　each　other；　but　never　did。　We　just　walked　away　from　each　other。〃
　Randi　stared　at　him。　〃I　know　what　you　mean。　But　back　then；　a　part　of　me　still　blamed　you　for　what　had　happened　to　Sophia。　It　took　me　a　long　time　to　work　through　that。〃
　〃Do　you　still　blame　me？〃
　〃No。　There　was　nothing　you　could　have　done　to　help　her。　You　didn't　know　about　Tremont　and　his　killers；　or　that　Sophia　was　a　threat　to　them。〃
　〃I　needed　to　hear　you　say　that；〃　Smith　told　her。
　Randi　looked　at　the　framed　photo　on　her　desk　of　her　and　Sophia　in　Santa　Barbara　before　the　horror。　Although　over　a　year　had　passed；　Randi　had　not　been　able　to　forgive　herself　for　not　having　been　there　when　her　sister　had　needed　her　most。　While　Sophia　lay　dying　in　that　hospital　bed；　Randi　had　been　thousands　of　miles　away；　working　deep　undercover　in　Iraq；　helping　the　resistance　to　Saddam　Hussein's　regime。　She　had　not　learned　how　or　why　Sophia　had　been　murdered　until　weeks　later；　when　Jon　Smith　had　materialized　in　Baghdad　like　some　dark　djinn。
　Amid　the　rubble　of　her　grief；　Randi　had　managed　to　find　unbroken　vessels　she　could　cling　to。　But　her　feelings　for　Smith　remained　ambivalent。　She　was　grateful　that　he　had　been　with　Sophia　in　her　last　moments；　that　she　had　not　died　alone。　Yet　as　she　became　more　and　more　entangled　in　the　web　that　was　Hades　she　couldn't　help　but　wonder　if　Smith　could　somehow　have　prevented　her　sister's　murder。　There　too；　the　issue　had　been　maddenly　unclear。　She　knew　that　Smith　had　loved　Sophia　deeply　and　would　never　have　knowingly　put　her　in　harm's　way。　Yet；　when　she　stood　at　her　sister's　grave；　she　still　believed　that　he　could　have　done　something　to　save　her。
　Randi　brushed　away　that　last　thought　and　turned　to　Smith。
　〃It'll　take　a　little　while　to　set　up　the　meeting　with　Kirov。　Would　you　like　to　meet　for　a　drink　later？〃
　〃Very　much。〃
　They　settled　on　the　lounge　in　the　Sheraton；　after　Randi　had　closed　up　the　office。
　〃What　exactly　is　Bay　Digital？〃　Smith　asked。　〃And　what　do　you　do　here？〃
　〃You　mean　the　people　who　sent　you　didn't　mention　that？〃　Randi　smiled。　〃Jon；　I'm　shocked。　I　happen　to　be　the　Moscow　office　manager　of　a　very　successful　venture…capital　firm　looking　to　invest　in　promising　Russian'　high…tech　startups。〃
　〃Except　the　funding　doesn't　e　from　private　investors　or　hedge　funds；〃　Smith　said。
　〃Be　that　as　it　may；　anyone　with　money　can　open　all　doors　in　Russia。　I　have　contacts　that　range　from　the　Kremlin；　through　the　army；　and　even　into　the　Russian　mafia。〃
　〃I　always　said　you　had　friends　in　low　places。　And　is　there　such　a　thing　as　high…tech　in　this　country？〃
　〃Better　believe　it。　The　Russians　don't　have　our　equipment；　but　give　them　the　right　tools　and　they　shine。〃　She　touched　his　arm。　〃It　really　is　good　to　see　you　again；　Jon…　whatever　your　reasons　for　being　here。　Is　there　anything　you　need　right　now？〃
　Smith　pictured　Danko's　widow　and　child。　〃Tell　me　what　Russians　bring　when　they　call　on　a　woman　who's　just　lost　her　husband…　and　doesn't　know　it　yet。〃
　
　CHAPTER　EIGHT
　　
　At　7：36　A。M。　Houston　time；　Dr。　Adam　Treloar　boarded　a　British　Airways　flight　for　its　nonstop　run　over　the　Pole　to　London's　Heathrow　Airport。　Upon　arrival；　he　was　escorted　to　the　transit　lounge　where；　as　a　first…class　passenger；　he　availed　himself　of　the　services　of　a　masseuse。　After　a　quick　shower；　Treloar　picked　up　his　freshly　pressed　suit　from　a　valet　and　headed　for　gate　sixty…eight；　where　he　was　shown　into　the　forward　cabin　of　another　BA　flight；　this　one　to　Moscow。　Twenty…eight　hours　after　he　had　started　his　Journey；　Treloar　cleared　Russian　customs　and　immigration　without　incident。
　Treloar　adhered　strictly　to　the　itinerary　that　he　and　Reed　had　worked　out。　After　a　taxi　dropped　him　off　at　the　new　Hotel　Nikko　across　the　river　from　the　Kremlin；　Treloar　registered；　then　gave　the　porter　an　extravagant　tip　to　bring　the　bags　up　to　his　room。　Next；　he　exited　the　hotel　and　hailed　another　taxi。　which　took　him　to　the　cemetery　on　Mychalczuk　Prospekt。　The　old　woman　selling　flowers　by　the　entrance　was　astonished　to　receive　twenty　American　dollars　for　a　bouquet　of　wilted　daisies　and　sunflowers。　Treloar　proceeded　to　a　stretch　of　relatively　new　graves　laid　out　under　a　stand　of　birch　trees。　He　placed　the　flowers　at　the　foot　of　a　distinctive　Orthodox　cross　that　memorated　the　final　resting　place　of　his　mother；　Helen　Treloar；　nee　Helena　Sviatoslava　Bunin。
　FBI　background　investigators　had　duly　noted　that　Treloar's　mother　had　been　born　in　Russia　when　Treloar　had　applied　for　the　post　of　chief　medical　officer。　But　no　red　flags　went　up。　peting　for　medical　talent　against　the　private　sector；　NASA　was　only　too　happy　to　land　an　expert　like　Adam　Treloar；　who　came　to　the　agency　after　fifteen　years　with　Bauer…Zermatt　A。G。　No　one　asked　why　Treloar　had　given　up　his　seniority　at　such　a　prestigious　firm　or　why　he　had　accepted　a　20　percent　pay　cut。　Instead；　the　space　agency　had　handed　over　Treloar's　impeccable　credentials　and　glowing　references　and　told　the　Bureau　to　fast…track　the　background　check。
　With　the　end　of　the　Cold　War；　travel　to　Russia　had　bee　easier　than　ever。　Thousands　of　Americans　went　to　visit　relatives　whom；　in　many　cases；　they　had　seen　only　in　photographs。　Adam　Treloar　went　back；　too；　to　visit　his　mother　after　her　divorce　and　return　to　her　native　Moscow。　For　the　next　three　years；　he　flew　in　every　spring　to　spend　a　week　with　her。
　Two　years　ago；　Treloar　had　informed　his　superiors　at　NASA　that　his　mother　had　terminal　cancer。　They　miserated　and　told　him　he　could　have　as　much　personal　leave　as　he　needed。　The　dutiful　son　increased　his　visits　to　three　a　year。　Then；　last　fall；　when　Helena　Bunin　at　last　succumbed；　he　went　back　for　an　entire　month；　ostensibly　to　settle　her　affairs。
　Treloar　was　certain　that　the　FBI　was　keeping　track　of　his　visits　to　Moscow。　But　he　also　knew　that；　like　any　bureaucracy；　it　was　content　as　long　as　it　recognized　a　pattern；　and　that　pattern　did　not　change。　Over　the　years；　Treloar　had　created　just　such　a　pattern；　altering　it　only　when　he　had　a　foolproof　reason　to　do　so。　Since　this　was　the　six…month　anniversary　of　his　mother's　death；　it　would　have　seemed　out　of　place　if　he　hadn't　gone　to　visit　her　grave。
　During　the　taxi　ride　back　to　his　hotel；　Treloar　reviewed　what　he　had　done。　The　cabdriver　from　the　airport；　the　porter　at　the　hotel；　the　old　woman　at　the　cemetery；　the　other　cabdrivers…　all　would　remember　him　because　of　the　generous　tips。　If　anyone　came　checking；　the　pattern　of　his　visit　was　clear。　Now　it　would　seem　natural　to　rest　for　a　few　days　in　Moscow　before　heading　back。　Except　that　the　NASA　physician　had　more　on　his　agenda　than　sightseeing。
　Treloar　retired　to　his　room　and　slept　for　several　hours。　By　the　time　he　awoke；　dark