rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第53节

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　〃As　long　as　you　can　get　those　items　I　mentioned；　I'll　be　ready。〃
　〃Consider　it　done。　And　Jon；　you　will　be　wearing　a　transmitter；　won't　you？〃
　Smith　held　up　a　tiny　fiberoptic　patch　that　looked　identical　to　a　small　round　Band…Aid；　the　kind　that　might　be　used　on　a　shaving　cut。
　〃If　something　goes　wrong；　sir；　you'll　at　least　know　how　far　I　got。〃
　〃Don't　even　think　that。〃'
　After　hanging　up；　Smith　took　a　moment　to　pose　himself。　He　thought　of　everything　that　had　happened　up　to　this　point；　all　the　lives　that　had　been　sacrificed　on　the　altar　of　the　Cassandra　pact。　Then　he　saw　Yuri　Danko　ing　toward　him　across　St。　Mark's　Square。。。　and　Katrina；　his　widow。
　Without　hesitation；　he　reached　for　the　phone；　made　sure　the　scrambler　was　activated；　and　dialed　the　number　Peter　Howell　had　passed　along。　If　anyone　tried　to　trace　the　call；　they'd　find　themselves　zipping　from　one　cutout　to　another　all　over　the　country。
　On　the　other　end；　the　phone　was　ringing。　The　receiver　was　picked　up　and　an　unearthly　voice；　electronically　distorted；　answered：　〃Yes？〃
　〃This　is　Nichols。　I'm　home。　Hurt。　I　need　to　e　in。〃
　
　CHAPTER　TWENTY　SIX
　　
　General　Frank　Richardson　inadvertently　knocked　the　cigar　burning　in　the　cut…glass　ashtray。
　〃Say　again；〃　he　spoke　into　the　phone。
　A　patchy；　mangled　voice　came　back　at　him。　〃。。。is　Nichols　。。。Hurt　。。ing　in。〃
　Richardson　clenched　the　receiver。　〃Go　to　safe　point　Alpha。　Repeat：　safe　point　Alpha。　Copy？〃
　〃Copy；〃
　The　connection　was　broken。
　Richardson　stared　at　the　telephone　as　though　he　expected　it　to　ring　again。　But　the　silence　in　his　office　was　broken　only　by　soft　ticks　of　the　grandfather　clock　and　the　distant　drones　of　Humvees　as　security　details　went　about　their　patrols　around　Fort　Belvoir。
　Nichols。。。　Hurt。。。　Impossible！
　Richardson　took　a　draw　on　his　cigar　to　steady　himself。　A　seasoned　mander；　he　quickly　reviewed　his　options　and　made　his　decision。　The　first　call　went　out　to　the　non　barracks　on　the　base。　A　crisp；　alert　voice　answered。
　Richardson's　second　call　was　to　NSA　deputy…director　Anthony　Price。　He　too　was　awake；　and　luckily　not　that　far　away　in　his　townhouse　in　Alexandria。
　While　Richardson　waited　for　the　two　men　to　arrive；　he　listened　to　the　tape　of　the　conversation。　Even　though　his　secure　phone　was　hooked　up　to　the　latest　recording　equipment；　the　quality　of　the　speaker's　voice　was　scratchy。　Richardson　couldn't　tell　if　the　call　was　local　or　long　distance。　He　didn't　think　that　〃Nichols〃　was　all　that　far　away；　not　if　he　was　ready　to　rendezvous　at　safe　point　Alpha。
　But　Nichols　is　dead！
　Richardson's　thoughts　were　interrupted　by　a　knock　on　the　office　door。　His　visitor　was　a　big；　strapping　man　in　his　midthirties　with　straw…colored　hair　cut　close　to　the　scalp　and　bright　blue　eyes。　Normally　baggy　fatigues　were　stretched　taut　over　a　linebacker's　powerful　muscles。
　〃Good　evening；　General；〃　Sergeant　Patrick　Drake　said；　saluting　crisply。
　〃At　ease；〃　Richardson　replied。　He　gestured　at　the　wet　bar　in　the　corner。　〃Help　yourself　to　a　drink；　Sergeant。　Believe　me；　you'll　need　it。〃
　Fifteen　minutes　later；　Anthony　Price　was　escorted　into　the　room　by　the　general's　aide…de…camp。
　〃Good　evening；　Tony。〃
　Price　looked　at　Drake　and　raised　his　eyebrows。　〃What's　going　on；　Frank？〃'
　〃What's　going　on　is　this；〃　Richardson　replied　and　jabbed　the　play　button　on　the　tape　recorder。
　He　watched　the　expressions　of　the　two　men　as　they　listened　to　the　brief　exchange。　He　detected　nothing　except　genuine　surprise…　and　in　the　case　of　Price；　alarm。
　〃How　the　hell　could　Nichols　have　made　that　call？〃　Price　demanded。　He　turned　to　Drake。　〃I　thought　you　said　that　he　was　dead；　soldier！〃
　〃With　all　due　respect；　sir；　Nichols　is　dead；〃　Drake　replied　tonelessly。　He　looked　at　Richardson。　〃General；　I　saw　Nichols　take　a　knife　in　the　gut。　You　know　that　there's　no　way　a　man　can　survive　that　unless　he　gets　immediate　medical　attention…　which　wasn't　forthing。
　〃You　should　have　made　sure　he　was　dead；〃　Price　snapped。
　〃Tony；　that's　enough！〃　Richardson　cut　in。　〃I　remember　your　afteraction　report；　Sergeant。　But　you　might　want　to　explain　the　details　to　Mr。　Price　here。〃
　〃Yes；　sir。〃　Drake　turned　to　Price。　〃Sir；　our　contact；　Franco　Grimaldi；　was　careless。　He　allowed　Peter　Howell　to　spot　the　trap。　Howell　took　him　down　first；　then　came　after　Nichols　and　myself　as　we　were　closing　in。　Howell　managed　to　get　Nichols's　gun　and　shoot　Grimaldi。　At　that　point；　I　had　no　choice　but　to　retreat。　My　orders　were　to　conduct　this　operation　in　a　clandestine　fashion。　If　something　went　wrong；　I　was　to　fall　back　and　wait　for　a　better　opportunity。〃
　〃Which　never　came；〃　Price　said　sarcastically。
　〃The　fortunes　of　war；　sir；〃　Drake　replied　tonelessly。
　〃Enough　backbiting！〃　Richardson　snapped。　〃Drake　followed　orders；　Tony。　That　the　operation　went　to　hell　in　a　handbasket　was　not　his　fault。　The　question　is；　who　is　passing　himself　off　as　Nichols？〃
　〃Peter　Howell；　obviously；〃　Price　replied。　〃Clearly　Nichols　lasted　long　enough　to　give　him　the　contact　number。〃
　Richardson　glanced　at　Drake。　〃Sergeant？〃
　〃I　agree　that　Nichols　gave　up　the　number；　sir。　And　the　rendezvous　point；　too。　Otherwise　your　caller　would　have　asked　you　to　identify　safe　point　Alpha。　But　I　don't　think　it　was　Howell。〃
　〃Why？〃
　〃Howell　lives　in　this　country；　sir。　Although　he's　retired；　we've　long　suspected　that　he's　still　available　for　certain　operations；　and　it　came　out　that　he　and　Smith　worked　together　during　Hades。　I　think　Howell　would　go　active　if　Smith　asked　him　to；　but　he　would　do　so　only　outside　the　country。　That's　why　he；　not　Smith；　was　in　Palermo。　I　think　Smith　made　that　call；　General。〃
　Richardson　nodded。　〃So　do　I。〃
　〃Smith。。。〃　Price　muttered。　〃It　all　es　back　to　him。　First　he's　in　Moscow；　then　Beria　disappears。　Now　he's　here。　Frank；　you've　got　to　take　care　of　him　once　and　for　all。〃
　〃Yes；〃　Richardson　agreed。　〃Which　is　why　I　instructed　him　to　go　to　safe　point　Alpha。〃　He　looked　at　Drake。　〃Where　you'll　be　waiting。〃
　
　Wearing　hightops；　black　pants　and　a　turtleneck；　and　a　dark　nylon　jacket；　Jon　Smith　slipped　out　of　his　house　and　into　his　car。　Driving　out　of　Bethesda；　he　continually　checked　his　mirrors。　No　vehicle　fell　in　behind　hirn　on　the　quiet　suburban　streets。　No　tail　picked　him　up　on　the　beltway。
　Smith　crossed　the　Potomac　and　entered　Fairfax　County；　Virginia。　At　this　time　of　night　traffic　was　light；　and　he　drove　quickly　through　the　horse　country　around　Vienna；　Fairfax；　and　Falls　Church。　South　of　Alexandria　he　found　the　river　again　and　followed　it　almost　to　the　border　of　Prince　William　County。　Here　the　affluent　landscape　gave　way　to　stretches　of　waterfront　bordered　by　thick　forest。　As　he　approached　the　county　line；　Smith　saw　safe　point　Alpha。
　The　Virginia　Water　and　Power　pumping　station　had　been　built　in　the　1930s；　when　coal　was　cheap　and　health　issues　nonexistent。　The　advent　of　newer；　cleaner　units；　coupled　with　the　outcries　from　environmentalists；　were　enough　to　close　the　plant　in　the　early　1990s。　Since　then；　all　attempts　to　modernize　the　station　had　floundered　on　the　rocks　of　budgetary　considerations。　So　it　continued　to　stand　on　the　Potomac；　a　dark；　hulking　structure　looking　like　some　abandoned　factory。
　Smith　turned　off　the　two…lane　blacktop　and；　cutting　his　headlights；　cruised　up　the　access　road。　He　parked　under　a　copse　of　trees　a　quarter　mile　away　and；　setting　his　backpack　on　his　shoulders；　jogged　the　rest　of　the　way。
　The　first　thing　he　noticed　as　he　got　close　was　the　Cyclone　fence…　still　shiny；　topped　with　glistening　razor　wire。　A　fat　padlock；　showing　no　rust；　secured　the　heavy　chain　around　the　front　gates。　The　perimeter　was　well　lighted；　the　halogen　lamps　giving　a　winterlike　glow　to　the　deserted　parking　lot　in　front　of　the　plant。
　Being　used　but　not　in　use。。。
　Smith　had　e　across　buildings　like　this　before。　The　army　preferred　the　neglected；　the　abandoned；　and　the　derelict；　where　it　could　give　its　special　squads　the　kind　of　training　impossible　to　duplicate　on　military　reservations。　The　Virginia　Water　and　Power　plant　had　that　peculiar　feel　about　it。。。　used　but　not　in　use。
　Perfect　for　safe　point　Alpha。
　Smith　circled　almost　the　entire　perimeter　before　he　found　a　suitable　entry　point；　where　the　fence　met　the　river's　edge。　Climbing　over　slippery　rocks；　he　made　his　way　around　the　fence；　then　sprinted　across　a　section　of　the　deserted　parking　lot　to　the　nearest　wall。　After　pausing　to　get　his　bearings　he　scanned　the　perimeter。　He　saw　nothing；　heard　nothing　except　for　the　faint　calls　of　night　creatures　near　the　water。　Yet　his　intuition　warned　him　that　he　was　not　alone。　His　call　had　sent　a　shiver　along　the　web。　He　just　couldn't　see　the　spider　。。。。　Yet。
　Hugging　the　side　of　the　building；　Smith　moved　along　the　face　of　the　wall；　searching　for　an　entry　point。
　
　Three　stories　above　Smith；　in　the　shadows　of　a　broken　window；　Sergeant　Patrick　Drake　watched　Smith　through　night…vision　binoculars。　He'd　picked　him　up　as　soon　as　Smith　had　climbed　around　the　fence；　the　logical　entry　point。　According　to　the　contents　of　the　dossier　Drake　had　read；　Smith　was　nothing　if　not　logical。　It　was　an　admirable　quality　in　a　soldier；　but　one　that　made　him　predictable。　And　in　this　case；　fatally　vulnerable。
　Drake　had　been　flown　to　the　plant　by　helicopter。　Later