rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第6节

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　Decades　had　passed　since　Howell　had　been　taught　the　pickpocket's　skill。　Feeling　Danko's　notepaper　between　his　fingers；　he　was　glad　to　see　that　he　hadn't　lost　his　touch。
　He　read　the　sentence　once；　then　a　second　time。　In　spite　of　knowing　better；　he　had　hoped　that　something　on　the　page　would　give　a　clue　as　to　why　Danko　had　been　slaughtered。　And　who　might　be　responsible。　But　none　of　the　words　made　any　sense　except　one：　Bioaparat。
　Howell　refolded　the　page　and　tucked　it　away。　He　drained　the　remains　of　his　brandy　and　signaled　the　bartender　for　a　refill。
　〃Is　everything　all　right；　signore？〃　the　bartender　asked　solicitously　as　he　served　up　the　drink。
　〃Yes；　thank　you。〃
　〃If　there's　anything　you　need；　please　don't　hesitate　to　ask。〃
　The　bartender　retreated　before　Howell's　icy　gaze。
　There's　nothing　you　can　held　me　with；　old　boy。　You're　not　the　one　I　need。
　
　When　Smith　opened　his　eyes；　he　was　startled　to　see　grotesque　faces　gazing　down　at　him。　As　he　pulled　himself　back；　he　discovered　that　he　was　slumped　in　the　recess　of　a　doorway　to　a　mask　and　costume　shop。　Slowly；　he　staggered　to　his　feet；　instinctively　checking　for　injuries。　Nothing　was　broken；　but　his　face　stung。　He　passed　a　hand　across　his　cheek　and　his　fingers　came　away　bloody。
　At　least　I'm　alive。
　He　couldn't　say　that　about　the　killers　who　had　tried　to　flee　in　the　gondola。　The　explosion　that　had　caused　the　craft　to　disintegrate　had　also　taken　its　occupants'　identities　to　eternity。　Even　if　the　police　corralled　eyewitnesses；　they　would　be　worthless：　professional　killers　were　often　masters　of　disguise。
　It　was　the　thought　of　police　that　got　Smith　moving。　Because　of　the　holidays；　all　the　shops　along　the　canal　were　closed。　There　were　no　people　around。　But　the　telltale　sound　of　the　police　launch　Klaxon　was　growing　louder。　The　authorities　couldn't　have　helped　but　connect　the　massacre　at　St。　Mark's　with　the　explosion　in　the　canal。　Witnesses　would　tell　them　that　the　assassins　had　run　in　that　direction。
　Where　they'll　find　me。。。　The　same　witnesses　will　connect　me　to　Danko。
　The　police　would　want　to　know　about　Smith's　relationship　to　the　dead　man；　why　they　had　met；　and　what　they　had　talked　about。　They　would　seize　on　the　fact　that　Smith　belonged　to　the　American　military　and　the　interrogation　would　bee　even　more　intense。　Yet；　in　the　end；　Smith　could　tell　them　nothing　that　would　explain　the　massacre。
　Smith　steadied　himself；　wiped　his　face　as　best　he　could；　and　brushed　off　his　suit。　He　took　a　few　tentative　steps；　then　walked　as　quickly　as　he　could　to　the　end　of　the　sidewalk。　There；　he　crossed　a　bridge　and　slipped　into　the　shadows　of　a　boarded…up　sequero；　a　gondola　construction　yard。　Half　a　block　up；　he　entered　a　small　church；　drifted　among　the　shadows；　and　emerged　through　another　set　of　doors。　Several　minutes　later；　he　was　on　the　promenade　next　to　the　Grand　Canal；　lost　among　the　throngs　that　moved　ceaselessly　along　the　waterfront。
　St。　Mark's　Square　was　cordoned　off　by　the　time　Smith　reached　it。　Grim…faced　carabinieri；　submachine　guns　held　at　port　arms；　created　a　human　barrier　between　the　granite　lions。　Europeans；　particularly　Italians；　were　well　versed　in　what　to　do　in　the　aftermath　of　what　was　clearly　a　terrorist　attack：　they　looked　straight　ahead　and　kept　on　moving　past　the　scene。　So　did　Smith。
　He　crossed　the　Bridge　of　Sighs；　passed　through　the　revolving　doors　of　the　Danieli　Hotel；　and　made　straight　for　the　men's　washroom。　He　splashed　cold　water　on　his　face；　then　little　by　little　slowed　his　breathing。　He　looked　in　the　mirror　above　the　sinks　but　saw　only　Danko's　body；　jerking　as　the　bullets　struck　it。　He　heard　the　screams　of　passersby；　the　shouts　of　the　killers　as　they　spotted　him　racing　toward　them。　Then　the　terrible　explosion　that　had　vaporized　them。。。
　All　this　in　a　city　that　was　one　of　the　safest　in　Europe。　What　in　God's　name　had　Danko　brought　with　him　that　would　merit　destruction？
　Smith　took　a　few　more　moments；　then　left　the　washroom。　The　lounge　was　empty　except　for　Peter　Howell；　tucked　away　at　a　table　behind　a　tall　marble　pillar。　Without　a　word；　Smith　picked　up　the　brandy　balloon　and　drained　its　contents。　Howell　seemed　to　understand。
　〃I　was　beginning　to　wonder　what　happened　to　you。　You　took　off　after　those　bastards；　didn't　you？〃
　〃The　killers　had　a　gondola　waiting；〃　Smith　replied。　〃I　think　that　their　plan　was　to　fade　into　the　landscape。　Nobody　looks　twice　at　a　gondola。〃
　〃Except？〃
　〃Except　whoever　hired　them　to　kill　Danko　didn't　trust　them　to　keep　their　mouths　shut。　The　gondola　was　rigged　with　C…twelve　attached　to　a　timer。〃
　〃Made　for　quite　the　bang。　I　could　hear　it　all　the　way　back　in　the　square。
　Smith　leaned　forward。　〃Danko？〃
　〃They　made　no　mistake　about　him；〃　Howell　replied。　〃I'm　sorry；　Jon。　I　got　there　as　fast　as　I　could；　but…〃
　〃You　did　what　I　brought　you　over　to　do…　to　cover　me　while　I　got　Danko　out。　There's　nothing　more　you　could　have　done。　Danko　told　me　he　was　clean　and　I　believed　him。　He　was　edgy；　but　not　because　he　thought　he　was　being　followed。　It　was　something　else。　Did　you　find　anything？〃
　Howell　handed　over　the　single　piece　of　paper　that　looked　like　it　had　been　torn　out　of　a　cheap　notebook。　He　looked　at　Smith　steadily。
　〃What？〃　Smith　asked。
　〃I　didn't　mean　to　peek；〃　Howell　said。　〃And　my　Russian　is　a　bit　rusty。　All　the　same　one　word　leaped　out　at　me。〃　He　paused。　〃You　had　no　idea　what　Danko　might　bring　out　with　him？〃
　Smith　scanned　the　handwritten　text。　He　picked　out　that　one　word　as　quickly　as　Peter　Howell　had：　Bioaparat。　Russia's　center　for　bioweapons　research；　design；　and　manufacture。　Danko　had　often　spoken　of　it；　but　as　far　as　Smith　knew；　his　work　had　never　taken　him　there。　Or　had　it？　Could　he　have　been　rotated　through　Bioaparat？　Had　he　discovered　something　so　terrible　that　the　only　way　to　get　it　out　was　to　carry　it　out　himself？
　Howell　was　studying　Smith's　reaction。　〃Scares　the　bloody　hell　out　of　me　too。　Anything　you'd　care　to　share　with　me；　Jon？〃
　Smith　looked　across　at　the　taciturn　Englishman。　Peter　Howell　had　spent　a　lifetime　of　service　in　the　British　military　and　intelligence　worlds；　first　with　the　Special　Air　Service；　then　with　MI6。　A　lethal　chameleon　whose　exploits　always　went　unheralded；　he　had　〃retired〃　from　his　profession　but　had　never　left　it　altogether。　The　need　for　men　with　Howell's　expertise　was　always　there；　and　those　who　required　it…　governments　or　individuals…　knew　how　to　find　him。　Howell　could　afford　to　pick　and　choose　his　assignments　but　he　had　one　ironclad　rule：　the　needs　of　his　friends　came　first。　He　had　been　instrumental　in　helping　Smith　run　down　the　instigators　of　the　Hades　Project。　He　hadn't　hesitated　to　leave　his　retreat　in　the　High　Sierra　in　California　when　Smith　had　asked　him　to　cover　his　back　in　Venice。
　Sometimes　Smith　bridled　under　the　constraints　Klein　had　put　on　him　as　a　mobile　cipher。　For　example；　he　couldn't　tell　Howell　anything　about　Covert…One…　that　it　existed　or　that　he　was　a　part　of　it。　He　had　no　doubt　that　Peter　had　his　suspicions。　But　being　the　professional　he　was　he　kept　them　to　himself。
　〃This　could　be　something　very　big；　Peter；〃　Smith　said　quietly。　〃I　have　to　get　back　to　the　States　but　I　also　need　to　know　about　those　two　killers…　who　they　were　and；　as　important；　who　they　were　working　for。〃
　Howell　regarded　Smith　thoughtfully。　〃Like　I　said。　Even　the　remotest　reference　to　Bioaparat　is　enough　to　keep　me　awake　at　nights。　I　have　a　few　friends　in　Venice。　Let　me　see　what　I　can　find　out。〃　He　paused。　〃Your　friend；　Danko…　did　he　have　family？〃
　Smith　recalled　the　photo　of　a　pretty；　dark…haired　woman　and　a　child　that　Danko　had　once　shown　him。
　〃Yes；　he　did。〃
　〃Then　go　do　what　you　must。　I　know　how　to　get　hold　of　you　if　need　be。　And　just　in　case…　here's　the　address　outside　of　Washington　I　use　occasionally。　It　has　all　the　bells　and　whistles。　Never　know　when　you　might　need　the　privacy。〃
　
　CHAPTER　FOUR
　　
　The　new　NASA　training　facility　on　the　outskirts　of　Houston　consisted　of；　among　other　things；　four　giant　hangars；　each　the　size　of　a　football　field。　Air　force　police　patrolled　the　outermost　perimeter；　inside　the　Cyclone　fence；　motion　sensors　and　cameras　augmented　surveillance。
　The　building　designated　G…3　housed　a　full　mock…up　of　the　latest　generation　of　the　space　shuttle。　Built　along　the　lines　of　a　mercial　flight　simulator　used　to　train　pilots；　it　provided　the　shuttle　crew　with　the　hands…on　experience　that　they　would　carry　with　them　into　space。
　Megan　Olson　was　in　the　long　tunnel　that　led　from　the　shuttle's　mid…deck　to　the　back　of　the　payload　bay。　Dressed　in　baggy　blue　pants　and　a　loose　cotton　shirt；　she　floated　in　the　partial…gravity　environment　as　gently　as　a　falling　feather。
　A　voice　crackled　in　her　headset：　〃You　look　like　you're　having　way　too　much　fun　in　there。〃
　Megan　gripped　one　of　the　rubber　handles　embedded　in　the　tunnel　wall　and　twisted　around　to　face　the　camera　that　was　tracking　her　progress。　Her　red　hair；　pulled　back　in　a　ponytail；　floated　in　front　of　her　and　she　brushed　it　aside。
　〃This　is　my　favorite　part　of　the　whole　experience；〃　she　laughed。　〃It's　like　scuba　diving…　without　the　fish。〃
　Megan　floated　to　a　monitor　where　she　saw　the　face　of　Dr。　Dylan　Reed；　head　of　NASA's　biomedical　research　program。
　〃The　lab　doors　will　open　in　ten　se