cc.goldenbuddha-第4节

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；　〃Oh；　what　the　heck；　suppose　we　make　it　an　even　two　thousand　dollars。〃　
　Without　the　least　indecision；　Morales　took　the　bills　and　slipped　them　into　his　wallet。　
　〃You　are　most　generous；　Captain　Smith。　I　will　notify　the　officials　that　the　pilot's　fee　was　paid　in　full。〃　
　Smith　signed　the　required　affidavits　and　logged　the　mooring。　He　put　a　massive　arm　around　the　Cuban's　shoulder。　〃Now　about　them　girls。　Where's　a　good　place　in　Santiago　to　meet　them？〃　
　〃The　cabarets　on　the　waterfront　are　where　you'll　find　both　cheap　entertainment　and　drinks。〃　
　〃I'll　tell　my　crew。〃　
　〃Good…bye；　Captain。〃　Morales　did　not　extend　his　hand。　He　already　felt　unclean　just　by　being　on　board　the　ship；　he　could　not　bring　himself　to　grip　the　greasy　hand　of　the　obnoxious　captain。　Morales's　easygoing　Cuban　warmth　had　been　cooled　by　the　surroundings　and　he　didn't　want　to　waste　another　second　on　board　the　Oregon。　Leaving　the　wheelhouse；　
　he　dropped　down　the　ladder　to　the　deck　and　descended　to　the　waiting　pilot　boat；　still　stunned　at　experiencing　the　filthiest　ship　he　had　ever　piloted　into　the　harbor。　Which　is　just　what　the　owners　of　the　Oregon　wanted　him　to　think。　
　If　Morales　had　examined　the　ship　more　closely；　he　might　have　realized　it　was　all　a　facade。　The　Oregon　rode　low　in　the　water　because　of　specially　fitted　ballast　tanks；　which　when　filled　with　water　lowered　the　hull　to　make　it　look　as　though　it　were　loaded　with　cargo。　Even　the　engine　tremors　were　mechanically　staged。　The　ship's　engines　were　whisper…silent　and　vibrationless。　
　And　the　coating　of　rust　throughout　the　ship？　It　was　artistically　applied　paint。　
　
　
　SATISFIED　THAT　THE　pilot　and　his　boat　had　pulled　away　from　the　Oregon；　Captain　Smith　stepped　over　to　a　handrail　mounted　on　the　deck　that　did　not　seem　to　serve　any　particular　purpose。　He　gripped　it　and　pressed　a　button　on　the　underside。　The　square　section　of　the　deck　on　which　Smith　was　standing　suddenly　began　descending　until　it　stopped　in　a　vast；　brightly　lit　room　filled　with　puters；　automated　controls　and　several　large　consoles　containing　munications　and　weapons…firing　systems。　The　deck　in　the　mand　center　was　richly　carpeted；　the　walls　were　paneled　in　exotic　woods　and　the　furniture　looked　as　if　it　had　e　straight　from　a　designer's　showroom。　This　room　was　the　real　heart　of　the　Oregon。　
　The　six　peoplefour　men　and　two　womenneatly　dressed　in　shorts；　flowered　shirts　and　white　blouses　were　busy　manning　the　various　systems。　One　woman　was　scanning　an　array　of　TV　monitors　that　covered　every　section　of　Santiago　Bay；　while　a　man　zoomed　a　camera　on　the　pilot　boat　as　it　turned　and　headed　into　the　main　channel。　No　one　bothered　to　give　the　fat　captain　half　a　glance。　Only　a　man　dressed　in　khaki　shorts　and　a　green　golf　shirt　approached　him。　
　〃All　go　well　with　the　pilot？〃　asked　Max　Hanley；　the　ship's　corporate　president；　who　directed　all　operational　systems；　including　the　ship's　engines。　
　〃The　pilot　noticed　the　delay　in　the　helm。〃　
　Hanley　grinned。　〃If　only　he'd　known　he　was　steering　a　dead　wheel。　We'll　have　to　make　some　adjustments；　though。　You　speak　to　him　in　Spanish？〃　
　Smith　smiled。　〃My　best　Yankee　English。　Why　let　him　know　I　speak　his　language？　That　way；　I　could　tell　if　he　played　any　tricks　over　the　radio　with　the　harbor　officials　as　we　anchored。〃　Smith　pulled　back　a　sleeve　of　his　grimy　coveralls　and　checked　a　Timex　watch　with　a　badly　scratched　lens。　〃Thirty　minutes　until　dark。〃　　〃The　equipment　in　the　moon　pool　is　all　ready。〃　
　〃And　the　landing　crew？〃　
　〃Standing　by。〃　
　〃I　just　have　time　to　get　rid　of　these　smelly　clothes　and　get　decent；〃　said　Cabrillo；　heading　toward　his　cabin　down　a　hallway　hung　with　paintings　by　modern　artists。　
　The　crew　cabins　were　concealed　inside　two　of　the　cargo　holds　and　were　as　plush　as　rooms　in　a　five…star　hotel。　There　was　no　separation　between　officers　and　crew　on　the　Oregon。　All　were　educated　people；　highly　trained　in　their　respective　fieldselite　men　and　women　who　had　served　in　the　armed　forces。　The　ship　was　owned　by　its　staff；　who　were　stockholders。　There　were　no　ranks。　Cabrillo　was　chairman；　Hanley；　president；　the　others　held　various　other　titles。　They　were　all　mercenaries；　here　to　make　a　profitthough　that　did　not　necessarily　rule　out　good　works　at　the　same　timehired　by　countries　or　large　panies　to　perform　clandestine　services　around　the　world；　very　often　at　great　risk。　
　
　THE　MAN　WHO　left　the　cabin　twenty　minutes　later　did　not　look　like　the　man　who'd　entered。　The　greasy　hairpiece；　scruffy　beard　and　grimy　coveralls　were　gone；　as　was　the　foul　smell。　So　was　the　Timex；　
　now　replaced　with　a　stainless…steel　Concord　chronograph。　In　addition；　the　man　had　dropped　at　least　a　hundred　pounds。　
　Juan　Rodriguez　Cabrillo　had　transformed　himself　from　the　grimy　sea　dog　Smith　to　his　true　self　again。　A　tall　man　in　his　forties；　ruggedly　handsome；　he　stared　through　pixie…blue　eyes。　His　blond　hair　was　trimmed　in　a　crew　cut　and　a　western　cowboy…style　mustache　sprouted　from　his　upper　lip。　
　He　hurried　down　the　corridor　to　a　far　door　and　entered　a　control　room　perched　high　inside　a　vast　cavern　in　the　hull　amidships。　The　three…deck…high　moon　pool；　as　it　was　called；　was　where　all　the　Oregon's　underwater　equipment　was　storeddiving　gear；　submersibles；　manned　and　unmanned；　and　an　array　of　underwater　electronic　sensors。　A　pair　of　state…of…the…art　contemporary　underwater　craft　by　U。S。　Submarinesa　sixty…five…foot　Nomad　1000　and　a　thirty…two…foot　Discovery　1000　hung　in　cradles。　The　doors　on　the　bottom　of　the　hull　slid　open　and　water　flooded　in　until　it　was　level　with　the　outer　waterline。　
　The　remarkable　ship　was　not　what　she　appeared　from　her　exterior。　The　outer　decks　and　hull　were　disguised　to　make　her　look　like　a　rust　bucket。　The　wheelhouse　and　the　unused　officers'　and　crew's　quarters　below　were　also　kept　in　a　slovenly　condition　to　avoid　suspicion　from　visiting　port　officials　or　harbor　pilots。　
　Cabrillo　entered　the　underwater　operations　room　and　stood　before　a　large　table　showing　three…dimensional　holographic　images　of　every　street　in　the　city　of　Santiago。　Linda　Ross；　the　Oregon's　security　and　surveillance　analyst；　was　standing　at　the　table　lecturing　a　group　of　people　dressed　in　Cuban　military　fatigue　uniforms。　Linda　had　been　a　lieutenant　mander　in　the　navy　when　Cabrillo　had　sweet…talked　her　into　resigning　and　joining　the　Oregon。　In　the　navy　she　had　been　an　intelligence　officer　on　board　an　Aegis　guided…missile　cruiser　before　spending　four　years　in　Washington　in　the　navy's　intelligence　department。　
　Linda　glanced　sideways　at　Cabrillo　as　he　stood　quietly　without　interrupting。　She　was　an　attractive　woman；　not　a　head　turner；　but　most　men　still　considered　her　pretty。　She　kept　her　five…foot…eight…inch；　130　pound　body　in　firm　shape　with　exercise；　but　rarely　spent　extra　time　on　makeup　or　hairstyle。　She　was　one　smart　lady；　soft…spoken　and　greatly　admired　by　the　entire　Oregon　crew。　
　The　five　men　and　one　woman　standing　around　the　detailed　3…D　image　of　the　city　listened　intently　as　Linda　ran　through　the　last…minute　instructions；　using　a　small　metal　rod　with　a　light　on　the　end　to　point　out　their　objective。　〃The　fortress　of　Santa　Ursula。　It　was　built　during　the　Spanish…American　War；　and　after　the　turn　of　the　twentieth　century　it　was　used　as　a　warehouse　until　Castro　and　his　revolutionaries　took　over　the　country。　Then　it　was　turned　into　a　prison。〃　
　〃What　is　the　exact　distance　from　our　landing　to　the　prison？〃　asked　Eddie　Seng；　the　Oregon's　master　of　subterfuge　and　director　of　shore　operations。　
　〃Two　hundred　yards　less　than　a　mile；〃　answered　Linda。　
　Seng　folded　his　arms　and　looked　thoughtful。　〃We'll　be　able　to　fool　the　locals　with　our　uniforms　going　in；　but　if　we　have　to　fight　our　way　back　a　mile　to　the　docks　while　herding　eighteen　prisoners；　I　can't　guarantee　we'll　make　it。〃　
　〃Certainly　not　in　the　condition　those　poor　people　are　going　to　be　in；〃　said　Julia　Huxley；　the　Oregon's　medical　officer。　She　was　going　along　on　the　raid　to　care　for　the　prisoners。　A　short　woman；　large　bosomed　with　a　body　suited　for　wrestling；　Julia　was　the　congeniality　lady　of　the　ship。　She'd　served　as　a　chief　medical　officer　for　four　years　at　the　San　Diego　Naval　Base　and　was　well　respected　by　them　all。　
　〃Our　agents　in　the　city　have　arranged　for　a　truck　to　be　stolen　twenty　minutes　before　you　leave　the　prison。　It's　used　for　hauling　food　supplies　to　the　hotels。　The　truck　and　a　driver　will　be　parked　one　block　from　the　workers'　maintenance　shack　situated　on　the　wharf　above　your　landing　dock。　He'll　drive　you　to　the　prison；　wait；　and　return　you　to　the　dock。　》From　there　he'll　ditch　the　truck　and　ride　home　on　his　bicycle。〃　
　〃Does　he　have　a　name？　Is　there　a　password？〃　
　Linda　smiled　slightly。　〃The　password　is　dos。〃　
　Seng　looked　skeptical。　〃Two？　That's　it？〃　
　〃Yes；　he'll　reply　with　uno；　one。　It's　that　simple。〃　
　〃Well；　at　least　it's　concise。〃　
　Linda　paused　to　flick　a　series　of　switches　on　a　small　remote　control。　The　images　of　the　city　dissolved　into　a　3…D　interior　diorama　of　Santa　Ursula　Prison　without　its　roof；　revealing　the　inner　rooms　and　cells　and　their　connecting　passageways。　〃Our　sources　tell　us　there　are　only　ten　guards　in　the　whole　prison。　Six　on　the　day　shift；　two　in　the　evening　and　two　from　midnight　until　six　in　the