tc.redrabbit-第26章

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ch　to　his　professional　mind　was　a　step　down　from　gypsy　fortune…tellers…but　which　had　gotten　the　Agency　to　start　a　program　of　its　own；　much　to　Foley's　disgust。　For　Ed　Foley；　if　you　couldn't　hold　it；　then　it　wasn't　real。　But　there　was　no　telling　what　those　pantywaists　in　the　Directorate　of　Intelligence　would　try；　just　to　bypass　what　the　DO　people…the　real　spooks　in　CIA…had　to　do　every　goddamned　day。
　　　It　was　enough　that　Ivan　had　eyes；　and　Christ　knew　how　many　ears；　in　the　embassy；　though　the　building　was　regularly　swept　by　electronics　experts。　（Once　they'd　even　succeeded　in　planting　a　bug　in　the　ambassador's　own　office。）　Just　across　the　street　was　a　former　church　that　was　used　by　KGB。　In　the　U。S。　Embassy；　it　was　known　as　Our　Lady　of　the　Microchips；　because　the　structure　was　full　of　microwave　transmitters　aimed　at　the　embassy；　their　function　being　to　interfere　with　all　the　listening　devices　that　Station　Moscow　used　to　tap　in　to　Soviet　phone　and　radio　systems。　The　amount　of　radiation　that　came　in　flirted　with　dangerous…to…your…health　levels；　and　as　a　result　the　embassy　was　protected　with　metal　sheeting　in　the　drywall；　which　reflected　a　lot　of　it　right　back　at　the　people　across　the　street。　The　game　had　rules；　and　the　Russians　pretty　much　played　within　them；　but　the　rules　often　didn't　make　a　hell　of　a　lot　of　sense。　There　had　been　quiet　protests　to　the　local　natives　about　the　microwaves；　but　these　were　invariably　met　with　shrugs　of　〃Who；　us？〃　And　that　was　as　far　as　it　usually　went。　The　embassy　doc　said　he　wasn't　worried…but　his　office　was　in　the　basement；　shielded　from　the　radiation　by　stone　and　dirt。　Some　people　said　you　could　cook　a　hot　dog　by　putting　it　on　the　east…facing　windowsills。
　　　Two　people　who　did　know　about　Ed　Foley　were　the　ambassador　and　the　Defense　Attache。　The　former　was　Ernest　Fuller。　Fuller　looked　like　an　illustration　from　a　book　about　patricians：　tall；　slim；　with　a　regal　mane　of　white　hair。　In　fact；　he'd　grown　up　on　an　Iowa　hog　farm；　gotten　a　scholarship　to　Northwestern　University；　and　then　a　law　degree；　which　had　taken　him　to　corporate　boardrooms；　where　he　finally　ended　up　as　CEO　of　a　major　auto　pany。　Along　the　way；　he'd　served　three　years　in　the　U。S。　Navy　in　World　War　II　on　the　light　cruiser　USS　Boise　during　the　Guadalcanal　campaign。　He　was　regarded　as　a　serious　player　and　a　gifted　amateur　by　the　embassy's　FSOs。
　　　The　Defense　Attache　was　Brigadier　General　George　Dalton。　By　profession　an　artilleryman；　he　got　along　well　with　his　Russian　counterparts。　Dalton　was　a　bear　of　a　man　with　curly　black　hair；　who'd　played　linebacker　for　West　Point　twenty…odd　years　before。
　　　Foley　had　an　appointment　with　both　of　them…ostensibly；　to　talk　over　relations　with　the　American　news　correspondents。　Even　his　internal　embassy　business　needed　a　cover　in　this　station。
　　　〃How's　your　son　adjusting？〃　Fuller　asked。
　　　〃He　misses　his　cartoons。　Before　we　came　over；　I　bought　one　of　those　new　tape　machines…you　know；　the　Betamax　thing…and　some　tapes；　but　those　only　last　so　long；　and　they　cost　an　arm　and　a　leg。〃
　　　〃There's　a　local　version　of　Roadrunner…Coyote；〃　General　Dalton　told　him。　〃It's　called　Wait　a　Moment；　something　like　that。　It's　not　as　good　as　Warner　Brothers；　but　better　than　that　damned　exercise　show　in　the　morning。　The　gal　on　that　could　whip　a　mand　sergeant…major。〃
　　　〃I　noticed　that　yesterday　morning。　Is　she　part　of　their　Olympic　weight…lifting　squad？〃　Foley　joked。　〃Anyway。。。〃
　　　〃First　impressions…any　surprises？〃　Fuller　asked。
　　　Foley　shook　his　head。　〃About　what　I　was　briefed　to　expect。　Looks　like　everywhere　I　go；　I　have　pany。　How　long　you　suppose　that　will　last？〃
　　　〃Maybe　a　week　or　so。　Take　a　walk　around…better　yet；　watch　Ron　Fielding　when　he　takes　a　walk。　He　does　his　job　pretty　well。〃
　　　〃Anything　major　under　way？〃　Ambassador　Fuller　asked。
　　　〃No；　sir。　Just　routine　operations　at　the　moment。　But　the　Russians　have　something　very　large　happening　at　home。〃
　　　〃What's　that？〃　Fuller　asked。
　　　〃They　call　it　Operation　RYAN。　Their　acronym　for　Surprise　Nuclear　Attack　on　the　Motherland。　They're　worried　that　the　President　might　want　to　nuke　them；　and　they　have　officers　running　around　back　home　trying　to　get　a　feel　for　his　mental　state。〃
　　　〃You're　serious？〃　Fuller　asked。
　　　〃As　a　heart　attack。　I　guess　they　took　the　campaign　rhetoric　a　little　too　seriously。〃
　　　〃I　have　had　a　few　odd　questions　from　their　foreign　ministry；〃　the　Ambassador　said。　〃But　I　just　wrote　it　off　to　small　talk。〃
　　　〃Sir；　we're　investing　a　lot　of　money　in　the　military；　and　that　makes　them　nervous。〃
　　　〃Whereas；　when　they　buy　ten　thousand　new　tanks；　it's　normal？〃　General　Dalton　observed。
　　　〃Exactly；〃　Foley　agreed。　〃A　gun　in　my　hand　is　a　defensive　weapon；　but　a　gun　in　your　hand　is　an　offensive　weapon。　It's　a　matter　of　outlook；　I　suppose。〃
　　　〃Have　you　seen　this？〃　Fuller　asked；　handing　across　a　fax　from　Foggy　Bottom。
　　　Foley　scanned　it。　〃Uh…oh。〃
　　　〃I　told　Washington　it　would　worry　the　Soviets　a　good　deal。　What　do　you　think？〃
　　　〃I　concur；　sir。　In　several　ways。　Most　important　will　be　the　potential　unrest　in　Poland；　which　could　spread　throughout　their　empire。　That's　the　one　area　in　which　they　think　long…term。　Political　stability　is　their　sine　qua　non。　What　are　they　saying　in　Washington？〃
　　　〃The　Agency　just　showed　it　to　the　President；　and　he　handed　it　off　to　the　Secretary　of　State；　and　he　faxed　it　to　me　for　ment。　Can　you　rattle　any　bushes；　see　if　they're　talking　about　it　in　the　Politburo？〃
　　　Foley　thought　for　a　moment　and　nodded。　〃I　can　try。〃　It　made　him　slightly　unfortable；　but　that　was　his　job；　wasn't　it？　It　meant　getting　a　message　to　one　or　more　of　his　agents；　but　that　was　what　they　were　for。　The　troubling　part　was　that　it　meant　exposing　his　wife。　Mary　Pat　would　not　object…hell；　she　loved　the　spy　game　in　the　field…but　it　always　bothered　her　husband　to　expose　her　to　danger。　He　supposed　it　was　chauvinism。　〃What's　the　priority　on　this？〃
　　　〃Washington　is　very　interested；〃　Fuller　said。　That　made　it　important；　but　not　quite　an　emergency　tasking。
　　　〃Okay；　I'll　get　on　it；　sir。〃
　　　〃I　don't　know　what　assets　you're　running　here　in　Moscow…and　I　don't　want　to　know。　It's　dangerous　to　them？〃
　　　〃They　shoot　traitors　over　here；　sir。〃
　　　〃This　is　rougher　than　the　car　business；　Foley。　I　do　understand　that。〃
　　　〃Hell；　it　wasn't　this　rough　in　the　Central　Highlands；〃　General　Dalton　noted。　〃Ivan　plays　pretty　mean。　You　know；　I've　been　asked　about　the　President；　too；　usually　over　drinks　by　senior　officers。　They're　really　that　worried　about　him；　eh？〃
　　　〃It　sure　looks　that　way；〃　Foley　confirmed。
　　　〃Good。　Never　hurts　to　rattle　the　other　guy's　confidence　a　little；　keep　him　looking　over　his　shoulder　some。〃
　　　〃Just　so　it　doesn't　go　too　far；〃　Ambassador　Fuller　suggested。　He　was　relatively　new　to　diplomacy；　but　he　had　respect　for　the　process。　〃Okay；　anything　that　I　need　to　know　about？〃
　　　〃Not　from　my　end；〃　the　COS　replied。　〃Still　getting　used　to　things。　Had　a　Russian　reporter　in　today；　maybe　a　KGB　counterspook　checking　me　out；　guy　named　Kuritsyn。〃
　　　〃I　think　he's　a　player；〃　General　Dalton　said　at　once。
　　　〃I　caught　a　whiff　of　that。　I　expect　he'll　check　me　out　through　the　Times　correspondent。〃
　　　〃You　know　him？〃
　　　〃Anthony　Prince。〃　Foley　nodded。　〃And　that　pretty　much　sums　him　up。　Groton　and　Yale。　I　bumped　into　him　a　few　times　in　New　York　when　I　was　at　the　paper。　He's　very　smart；　but　not　quite　as　smart　as　he　thinks　he　is。〃
　　　〃How's　your　Russian？〃
　　　〃I　can　pass　for　a　native…but　my　wife　can　pass　for　a　poet。　She's　really　good　at　it。　Oh；　one　other　thing。　I　have　a　neighbor　in　the　pound；　Haydock；　husband　Nigel；　wife　Penelope。　I　presume　they're　players；　too。〃
　　　〃Big…time；〃　General　Dalton　confirmed。　〃They're　solid。〃
　　　Foley　thought　so；　but　it　never　hurt　to　be　sure。　He　stood。　〃Okay；　let　me　get　some　work　done。〃
　　　〃Wele　aboard；　Ed；〃　the　Ambassador　said。　〃Duty　here　isn't　too　bad　once　you　get　used　to　it。　We　get　all　the　theater　and　ballet　tickets　we　want　through　their　foreign　ministry。〃
　　　〃I　prefer　ice　hockey。〃
　　　〃That's　easy；　too；〃　General　Dalton　responded。
　　　〃Good　seats？〃　the　spook　asked。
　　　〃First　row。〃
　　　Foley　smiled。　〃Dynamite。〃
　　　For　her　part；　Mary　Pat　was　out　on　the　street　with　her　son。　Eddie　was　too　big　for　a　stroller；　which　was　too　bad。　You　could　do　a　lot　of　interesting　things　with　a　stroller；　and　she　figured　the　Russians　would　be　hesitant　to　mess　with　an　infant　and　a　diaper　bag…especially　when　they　both　came　with　a　diplomatic　passport。　She　was　just　taking　a　walk　at　the　moment；　getting　used　to　the　environment；　the　sights　and　smells。　This　was　the　belly　of　the　beast；　and　here　she　was；　like　a　virus…a　deadly　one；　she　hoped。　She'd　been　born　Mary　Kaminsky；　the　granddaughter　of　an　equerry　to　the　House　of　Romanov。　Grandfather　Vanya　had　been　a　central　figure　of　her　youth。　From　him　she'd　learned　Russian　as　a　toddler；　and　not　the　base　Russian　of　today；　but　the　elegant；　literary　Russian　of　a　bygone　time。　She　could　read　the　poetry　of　Pushkin　and　weep；　and　in　this　she　was　more　Russian　than　American；　for　the　Russians　had　venerated　their　poets　for　centuries；　while　in　America　they　were　mainly　relegated　to　writing　pop　songs。　There　was　much　to　admire　and　much　to　love　about　this　country。
　　　But　not　its　government。　She'd　been　twelve；　looking　forward　to　her　teens　with　enthusiasm；　when　Grandfather　Vanya　had　told　her　the　story　of　Aleksey；　the　crown　prince　of　Russia…a　good　child；　so　her　grandfather　said；　but　an　unlucky　one；　stricken　with　hemophilia　and　for　that　reason　a　fragile　child。　Colonel　Vanya　Borissovich　Kaminsky；　a　minor　nobleman　in　the　Imperial　Horse　Guards；　had　taught　the　boy　to　ride　a　horse；　because　that　was　one　physical　skill　a　prince　needed　in　that　age。　He'd　had　to　be　ever　so　careful…Aleksey　often　went　about　in　the　arms　of　a　sailor　in　the　Imperial　navy；　lest　he　trip　and　fall　and　bleed…but　he'd　acplished　the　task；　to　the　gratitude　of　Nikolay　II　and　Czarina　Alexandra；　and　along　the　way　the　two　had　bee　as　close　as；　if　not　father　and　son；　then　uncle　and　nephew。　Grandfather　Vanya　had　gone　to　the　front　and　fought　against　the　Germans；　but　early　in　the　war　had　been　captured　at　the　Battle　of　Tannenberg。　It　had　been　in　a　German　prisoner…of…war　camp　that　he'd　learned　of　the　revolution。　He'd　managed　to　e　back　to　Mother　Russia；　and　fought　with　the　White　Guards　in　the　doomed　counterrevolutionary　effort…then　learned　that　the　czar　and　his　entire　family　had　been　murdered　by　the　usurpers　at　Ekaterinberg。　He'd　known　then　that　the　war　was　lost；　and　he'd　managed　to　escape　and　make　his　way　to　America；　where　he'd　begun　a　new　life；　but　one　in　perpetual　mourning　for　the　dead。
　　　Mary　Pat　remembered　the　tears　in　his　eyes　when　he　told　the　tale；　and　the　tears　had　municated　to　her　his　visceral　hatred　for　the　Bolsheviks。　It　had　muted　somewhat。　She　wasn't　a　fanatic；　but　when　she　saw　a　Russian　in　a　uniform；　or　in　a　speeding　ZIL；　headed　for　a　Party　meeting；　she　saw　the　face　of　the　enemy；　an　enemy　that　needed　defeating。　That　munism　was　her　country's　adversary　was　merely　sauce　for　the　goose。　If　she　could　find　a　button　that　would　bring　down　this　odious　political　system；　she'd　push　it　without　a　blink　of　hesitation。
　　　And　so　the　appointment　to　Moscow　had　been　the　best　of　all　dream　assignments。　Just　as　Vanya　Borissovich　Kaminsky　had　told　her　his　ancient　and　sad　story；　so　he　had　given　her　a　mission　for