rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第29节

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hing　in　the　world。　Besides；　I'm　guessing　that　you　didn't　just　trip　over　this　laptop。　The　Russians　must　have　sanctioned　the　hunt。〃
　Smith　nodded。　〃They　have。　All　right。　I　have　to　leave　Moscow　in　about　an　hour。　You　have　my　number。　Call　me　the　minute　your　boy　genius　es　up　with　anything。〃
　He　smiled　at　her。　〃And　thanks；　Randi。　Very　much。〃
　〃I'm　happy　to　help；　Jon。　But　there　is　a　quid　pro　quo。　If　there's　anything　I　need　to　know…〃
　〃You'll　hear　it　from　me；　not　CNN。　Promise。〃
　
　
　CHAPTER　THIRTEEN
　　
　The　Swiss　have　one　of　the　most　highly　organized　terrorist…response　teams　in　the　world。　Superbly　trained；　expertly　equipped；　the　twenty…man　unit　known　as　the　Special　Operations　Group　was　on　its　way　to　Zurich　International　Airport　within　minutes　of　receiving　the　go　signal　from　the　minister　of　defense。
　By　the　time　Swissair　101　was　twenty　minutes　out；　the　mandos　were　in　position。　Half　of　them　wore　the　uniform　of　the　Swiss　border　patrol；　whose　ubiquitous　presence　at　airports　and　railroad　stations　went　unnoticed　by　travelers　accustomed　to　visible　security。　The　other　half　were　dressed　as　mechanics；　fuelers；　baggage　handlers；　and　caterers…　the　kind　of　people　anyone　would　expect　to　see　around　parked　aircraft。
　The　plainclothes　contingent；　heavily　armed　with　MP…5　submachine　guns　and　smoke　and　stun　grenades；　would　be　the　first…wave　assault　troops　if　the　situation　degenerated　into　a　hostage　crisis。　The　uniformed　patrols　were　the　second　perimeter；　ready　to　move　if　Beria　somehow　managed　to　slip　past　the　invisible　cordon　that　would　be　established　around　the　aircraft。
　Finally；　there　was　a　third　ring；　made　up　of　Swiss　Army　sharpshooters　who　had　positioned　themselves　on　the　roofs　of　the　international　terminal　and　the　maintenance　hangars。　They　would　have　an　unobstructed　view　of　the　plane　as　it　taxied　to　the　last　gate。　There；　an　attempt　would　be　made　to　collar　the　jetway　to　the　fuselage。　The　attempt　would　fail。　The　captain　would　announce　a　malfunction　and　advise　his　passengers　that　a　ramp　would　be　wheeled　up　to　the　forward　hatch。
　Once　the　passengers　started　moving　down　the　ramp；　the　snipers　would　try　to　pick　out　Beria　and　lock　on　to　him。　If　successful；　there　would　be　no　fewer　than　three　rifles　covering　the　target　at　any　given　moment。　According　to　plan；　the　plainclothes　mandos　would　execute　the　takedown；　wrestle　Beria　to　the　ground；　and　neutralize　him。　But　if　for　any　reason　there　was　a　problem；　the　snipers　were　cleared　for　center…mass/head…shot　fire。
　Wearing　a　caterer's　baggy　white　overalls；　the　SOG　mander　quietly　radioed　the　control　tower　and　received　the　latest　word：　flight　101　was　on　final　approach。　Word　was　passed　along；　the　safeties　of　weapons　were　thumbed　off。
　
　The　bus　rattled　into　the　St。　Petersburg　station　just　as　Swissair　101　touched　down　in　Zurich。　Following　the　crowds；　Ivan　Beria　drifted　into　the　terminal；　headed　for　the　lockers。　Removing　a　key；　he　opened　a　locker　and　pulled　out　a　cheap　suitcase。
　The　washroom　was　abominable；　but　a　tip　to　the　attendant　got　Beria　a　private　stall　that　was　reasonably　clean。　He　took　off　his　coat；　jacket；　and　pants；　and　from　the　suitcase　pulled　out　a　new　navy　blue　blazer；　gray　slacks；　a　sports　shirt；　and　fortable　loafers。　Also　in　the　suitcase　were　a　fleece…lined　jacket；　several　plastic　bags　filled　with　souvenirs　from　the　Hermitage　Museum；　and　a　billfold　containing　an　airline　ticket；　passport；　credit　cards；　and　American　currency。　Beria　flipped　open　the　passport　and　scrutinized　his　picture；　in　which　he　wore　the　clothes　he'd　just　put　on。　He　thought　he　looked　like　a　John　Strelnikov；　a　naturalized　American　citizen　who　worked　as　a　civil　engineer　for　a　Baltimore…based　construction　pany。
　Beria　packed　up　his　old　clothes　in　the　suitcase　and　left　the　bathroom。　In　the　station；　he　stopped　at　a　refreshment　stand；　put　down　the　suitcase；　bought　himself　a　Coke；　and　moved　on。　Given　the　homeless　population　that　meandered　through　the　station；　the　suitcase　would　disappear　before　he　reached　the　front　doors。
　Outside；　he　got　into　a　cab　and　offered　the　driver　ten　American　dollars　over　the　negotiated　rate　if　he　got　him　to　the　airport　in　thirty　minutes。　The　driver　made　it　with　two　minutes　to　spare。
　Beria　knew　that　by　now　his　photograph　and　particulars　had　been　wired　to　every　major　transportation　facility　in　the　country。　It　didn't　matter。　He　had　no　intention　of　ing　into　contact　with　the　authorities。
　Walking　through　the　newly　refurbished　terminal；　he　reached　the　area　reserved　for　tour　groups　and　slipped　into　a　gaggle　of　sixty…odd　travelers　clustered　in　front　of　the　Finnair　counter。
　〃Where's　your　badge？　You　need　your　badge。〃
　Beria　smiled　pleasantly　at　the　harried　young　woman　whose　badge　read　OMNITOURS：　TREASURES　OF　THE　CZARS。
　Handing　over　his　passport　and　ticket；　he　mumbled；　〃Lost　it。〃
　The　woman　sighed；　grabbed　his　paperwork；　and　steered　him　to　a　counter　where　she　brought　out　a　paper　badge。
　〃John　Strel。。。〃 ‘
　〃Strelnikov。〃
　〃Right。　We'll　just　put　down　‘John；'　okay？〃
　Using　a　felt　pen；　she　wrote　the　name　on　the　badge；　peeled　away　the　backing　to　expose　the　adhesive；　and　pressed　it　firmly　onto　Beria's　lapel。
　〃Don't　lose　it！〃　she　scolded。　〃Otherwise　you'll　have　problems　at　customs。　Do　you　want　to　do　any　duty…free　shopping？〃
　Beria　said　that　might　be　nice。
　〃You'll　get　your　passport　and　tickets　back　after　immigration；〃　the　woman　said；　already　moving　to　quell　another　crisis　elsewhere　in　the　group。
　Beria　was　counting　on　that。　Much　better　to　have　some　exhausted　American　tour　guide　deal　with　the　exit　visas　and　airline　tickets。
　After　purchasing　some　cologne　that　he　placed　in　his　Hermitage　souvenir　bag；　Beria　joined　the　line　shuffling　through　immigration。　He　watched　as　in　the　booth；　two　bored　officials　stamped　the　passports　that　the　tour　guide　had　brought　them。　Hearing　his　name；　he　stepped　forward；　retrieved　his　passport；　and　proceeded　through　customs　into　the　departure　lounge。
　Beria　took　a　seat　beside　a　middle…aged　couple　who　turned　out　to　be　from　San　Francisco。　Since　he　pretended　that　his　English　was　only　passable；　his　new　friends　did　most　of　the　talking。　Beria　learned　that　the　Finnair　flight　to　Washington's　Dulles　Airport　would　take　about　ten　hours　and　that　the　dinner　service　would　likely　be　decent　but　certainly　not　memorable。
　
　The　Ilyushin　C…22　executive　jet　had　just　crossed　into　German　airspace　when　Smith　received　word　that　Beria　was　not　onboard　Swissair　101。
　〃That's　a　positive　confirmation？〃
　〃Absolutely；〃　Klein　replied　over　the　satellite　phone。　〃They　eyeballed　every　single　passenger。　He　wasn't　there。〃
　〃The　Paris　flight　es　down　in　nineteen　minutes。　Are　they　ready？〃
　〃The　people　I　talk　to　say　yes。　Privately；　they're　telling　me　that　the　government　is　passing　peach　pits。　If　something　happens　and　later　word　gets　out　that　they　allowed　the　plane　to　land。。。　well；　you　can　imagine　the　fallout。〃
　〃Do　you　think　the　government　will　spring　a　leak？〃
　〃It's　a　real　possibility。　The　French　have　an　election　ing　up　in　two　weeks。　The　opposition　is　looking　for　any　kind　of　ammunition　it　can　get　its　hands　on。〃
　Smith　returned　to　an　idea　that　had　occurred　to　him　back　in　Moscow；　but　which　he　hadn't　voiced。
　〃Sir；　what　if　we　were　to　give　the　French　a　hand？〃
　〃How？〃
　〃Their　Airbuses　aren't　equipped　with　the　SecFax　system。　American　1710　can　receive　secure　satellite　facsimile　transmissions。　You　could　talk　directly　to　the　captain；　bring　him　up　to　speed；　then　ship　him　a　photofax　of　Beria。〃
　Smith　waited　out　the　silence。　What　he　proposed　was；　at　the　very　least；　dangerous。　If　his　suggestion　was　carried　out　and　something　went　terribly　wrong　on　the　American　flight；　the　consequences　would　be　nothing　short　of　disastrous。
　〃Let　me　check　something；〃　Klein　said　finally。　〃I'll　get　back　to　you。
　A　few　minutes　later；　he　was　back。　〃I　spoke　with　American's　director　of　security　in　Dallas…Fort　Worth。　He　says　1710　is　carrying　a　sky　marshal。〃
　〃Even　better。　Get　him…〃
　〃Her；　Jon。〃
　〃Forgive　my　presumption。　The　pilot　must　have　a　way　to　municate　with　her。　Once　he　does；　she　can　cover　the　plane。〃
　〃We　have　to　allow　for　the　possibility　that　Beria　is　traveling　incognito。〃
　〃Kirov　never　mentioned　that　Beria　was　a　master　of　disguise。　Possibly　that's　because　he's　never　operated　outside　familiar　borders　before。　A　trained　agent　would　be　able　to　see　through　makeup　and　prosthetics。〃
　〃Do　you　propose　we　inform　Kirov…　or　anyone　else？〃
　〃It's　our　plane；　sir。　If　the　agent　spots　him；　we　can　give　the　French　the　all…clear　and　warn　the　British　that　he's　on　the　way。　Any　lead　time　we　could　give　them　would　be　invaluable。〃
　Another　moment　of　silence　followed。
　〃All　right；　Jon。　I'll　get　things　going　on　this　end。　The　flight's　ninety　minutes　out　of　Heathrow。　Stay　airborne　until　I　call　back。〃
　
　Catching　a　whiff　of　exotic　perfume；　Adam　Treloar　stirred　in　his　spacious　first…class　seat。　He　heard　the　faint　rustle　of　silk　against　flesh；　then　caught　a　pair　of　shapely　buttocks　swaying　past　his　line　of　sight。　As　though　she　sensed　she　was　being　watched；　the　woman；　a　long…legged　redhead；　turned。　Treloar　blushed　as　her　eyes　settled　on　him；　his　embarrassment　deepened　as　she　smiled　and　raised　her　eyebrows　as　though　to　say；　you　naughty　boy！　Then　she　was　gone；　disappearing　behind　the　partition　into　the　area　where