tc.redrabbit-第52章

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　　　〃It's　a　big　deal　to　take　the　bread　off　somebody's　table；　and　you'd　be　branded　as　a　troublemaker；〃　Jack　warned。
　　　〃Jack；　at　Hopkins；　I'd've　called　them　on　it　right　then　and　there；　and　there　would　have　been　hell　to　pay；　but　over　here…over　here　I'm　just　a　guest。〃
　　　〃And　the　customs　are　different。〃
　　　〃Not　that　different。　Jack；　it's　grossly　unprofessional。　It's　potentially　harmful　to　the　patient；　and　that's　a　line　you　never　cross。　At　Hopkins；　if　you　have　a　patient　in　recovery；　or　you　have　surgery　the　next　day；　you　don't　even　have　a　glass　of　wine　with　dinner；　okay？　That's　because　the　good　of　the　patient　es　before　everything　else。　Okay；　sure；　if　you're　driving　home　from　a　party　and　you　see　a　hurt　person　on　the　side　of　the　road；　and　you're　the　only　one　around；　you　do　what　you　can；　and　get　him　to　a　doc　who's　got　it　all　together；　and　you　probably　tell　that　doc　that　you　had　a　couple　before　you　saw　the　emergency。　I　mean；　sure；　during　internship；　they　work　you　through　impossible　hours　so　you　can　train　yourself　to　make　good　decisions　when　you're　not　fully　functional；　but　there's　always　somebody　to　back　you　up　if　you're　not　capable；　and　you're　supposed　to　be　able　to　tell　when　you're　in　over　your　head。　Okay？　I　had　that　happen　to　me　once　on　pediatric　rotation；　and　it　scared　the　hell　out　of　me　when　that　little　kid　stopped　breathing；　but　I　had　a　good　nurse　backing　me　up　and　we　got　the　senior　resident　down　in　one　big　fucking　hurry；　and　we　got　him　going　again　with　no　permanent　damage；　thank　God。　But；　Jack；　you　don't　go　creating　a　suboptimal　situation。　You　don't　go　looking　for　them。　You　deal　with　them　when　they　happen；　but　you　don't　voluntarily　jump　into　the　soup；　okay？〃
　　　〃Okay；　Cath；　so；　what　are　you　going　to　do？〃
　　　〃I　don't　know。　At　home；　I'd　go　right　to　Bernie；　but　I'm　not　at　home。。。〃
　　　〃And　you　want　my　advice？〃
　　　Her　blue　eyes　fixed　on　her　husband's。　〃Well；　yes。　What　do　you　think？〃
　　　What　he　thought　didn't　really　matter；　Jack　knew。　It　was　just　a　question　of　guiding　her　to　her　own　decision。　〃If　you　do　nothing；　how　will　you　feel　next　week？〃
　　　〃Terrible。　Jack；　I　saw　something　that…〃
　　　〃Cathy。〃　He　hugged　her。　〃You　don't　need　me。　Go　ahead　and　do　what　you　think　is　right。　Otherwise；　well；　it'll　just　eat　you　up。　You're　never　sorry　for　doing　the　right　thing；　no　matter　what　the　adverse　consequences　are。　Right　is　right；　my　lady。〃
　　　〃They　said　that；　too。　I'm　not　fortable　with…〃
　　　〃Yeah；　babe。　Every　so　often　at　work；　they　call　me　Sir　John。　You　roll　with　the　punch。　It's　not　like　it's　an　insult。〃
　　　〃Over　here；　they　call　a　surgeon　Mr。　Jones　or　Mrs。　Jones；　not　Doctor　Jones。　What　the　hell　is　that　all　about？〃
　　　〃Local　custom。　It　goes　back　to　the　Royal　Navy　in　the　eighteenth　century。　A　ship's　doctor　was　usually　a　youngish　lieutenant；　and　aboard　ship　that　rank　is　called　mister　rather　than　leftenant。　Somehow　or　other　it　carried　over　to　civilian　life；　too。〃
　　　〃How　do　you　know　that？〃　Cathy　demanded。
　　　〃Cathy　you　are　a　doctor　of　medicine。　I　am　a　doctor　of　history；　remember？　I　know　a　lot　of　things；　like　putting　a　Band…Aid　on　a　cut；　after　that　painful　Merthiolate　crap。　But　that's　as　far　as　my　knowledge　of　medicine　goes…well；　they　taught　us　a　little　at　the　Basic　School；　but　I　don't　expect　to　patch　up　a　bullet　wound　any　time　soon。　I'll　leave　that　to　you。　Do　you　know　how？〃
　　　〃I　patched　you　up　last　winter；〃　she　reminded　him。
　　　〃Did　I　ever　thank　you　for　that？〃　he　asked。　Then　he　kissed　her。　〃Thanks；　babe。〃
　　　〃I　have　to　talk　to　Professor　Byrd　about　it。〃
　　　〃Honey；　when　in　doubt；　do　what　you　think　is　right。　That's　why　we　have　a　conscience；　to　remind　us　what　the　right　thing　is。〃
　　　〃They　won't　like　me　for　it。〃
　　　〃So？　Cathy；　you　have　to　like　you。　Nobody　else。　Well；　me；　of　course；〃　Jack　added。
　　　〃Do　you？〃
　　　A　very　supportive　smile：　〃Lady　Ryan；　I　worship　your　dirty　drawers。〃
　　　And　finally　she　relaxed。　〃Why；　thank　you；　Sir　John。〃
　　　〃Let　me　go　upstairs　and　change。〃　He　stopped　in　the　doorway。　〃Should　I　wear　my　formal　sword　for　dinner？〃
　　　〃No；　just　the　regular　one。〃　And　now　she　could　smile；　too。　〃So；　what's　happening　in　your　office？〃
　　　〃A　lot　of　learning　the　things　we　don't　know。〃
　　　〃You　mean　finding　out　new　stuff？〃
　　　〃No；　I　mean　realizing　all　the　stuff　we　don't　know　that　we　should　know。　It　never　stops。〃
　　　〃Don't　feel　bad。　Same　in　my　business。〃
　　　And　Jack　realized　that　the　similarity　between　both　businesses　was　that　if　you　screwed　up；　people　might　die。　And　that　was　no　fun　at　all。
　　　He　reappeared　in　the　kitchen。　By　now　Cathy　was　feeding　Little　Jack。　Sally　was　watching　TV；　that　great　child　pacifier；　this　time　some　local　show　instead　of　a　Roadrunner…Coyote　tape。　Dinner　was　cooking。　Why　an　assistant　professor　of　ophthalmology　insisted　on　cooking　dinner　herself　like　a　truck　driver's　wife　baffled　her　husband；　but　he　didn't　object…she　was　good　at　it。　Had　they　had　cooking　lessons　at　Bennington？　He　picked　a　kitchen　chair　and　poured　himself　a　glass　of　white　wine。
　　　〃I　hope　this　is　okay　with　the　professor。〃
　　　〃Not　doing　surgery　tomorrow；　right？〃
　　　〃Nothing　scheduled；　Lady　Ryan。〃
　　　〃Then　it's　okay。〃　The　little　guy　went　to　her　shoulder　for　a　burp；　which　he　delivered　with　great　gusto。
　　　〃Damn；　Junior。　Your　father　is　impressed。〃
　　　〃Yeah。〃　She　took　the　edge　of　the　cloth　diaper　on　her　shoulder　to　wipe　his　mouth。　〃Okay；　how　about　a　little　more？〃
　　　John　Patrick　Ryan；　Jr。　did　not　object　to　the　offer。
　　　〃What　things　don't　you　know？　Still　worried　about　that　guy's　wife？〃　Cathy　asked；　cooled　down　somewhat。
　　　〃No　news　on　that　front；〃　Jack　admitted。　〃We're　worried　what　they　might　do　on　something。〃
　　　〃Can't　say　what　it　is？〃　she　asked。
　　　〃Can't　say　what　it　is；〃　he　confirmed。　〃The　Russians；　as　my　buddy　Simon　says；　are　a　rum　bunch。〃
　　　〃So　are　the　Brits；〃　Cathy　observed。
　　　〃Dear　God；　I　married　Carrie　Nation。〃　Jack　took　a　sip。　It　was　Pinot　Grigio；　a　particularly　good　Italian　white　that　the　local　liquor　stores　carried。
　　　〃Only　when　I　cut　somebody　open　with　a　knife。〃　She　liked　saying　it　that　way；　because　it　always　gave　her　husband　chills。
　　　He　held　up　his　glass。　〃Want　one？〃
　　　〃When　I'm　finished；　maybe。〃　She　paused。　〃Nothing　you　can　talk　about？〃
　　　〃Sorry；　babe。　It's　the　rules。〃
　　　〃And　you　never　break　them？〃
　　　〃Bad　habit　to　get　into。　Better　not　to　start。〃
　　　〃What　about　when　some　Russian　decides　to　work　for　us？〃
　　　〃That's　different。　Then　he's　working　for　the　forces　of　Truth　and　Beauty　in　the　world。　We；〃　Ryan　emphasized；　〃are　the　Good　Guys。〃
　　　〃What　do　they　think？〃
　　　〃They　think　they　are。　But　so　did　a　guy　named　Adolf；〃　he　reminded　her。　〃And　he　wouldn't　have　liked　Bernie　very　much。〃
　　　〃But　he's　long　dead。〃
　　　〃Not　everybody　like　him　is；　babe。　Trust　me　on　that　one。〃
　　　〃You're　worried　about　something；　Jack。　I　can　see　it。　Can't　say；　eh？〃
　　　〃Yes。　And　no；　I　can't。〃
　　　〃Okay。〃　She　nodded。　Intelligence　information　didn't　interest　her　beyond　her　abstract　desire　to　learn　what　was　going　on　in　the　world。　But　as　a　physician　there　were　many　things　she　really　wanted　to　know…like　the　cure　for　cancer…but　didn't；　and；　reluctantly；　she'd　e　to　accept　that。　But　medicine　didn't　allow　much　in　the　way　of　secrets。　When　you　found　something　that　helped　patients；　you　published　your　discovery　in　your　favorite　medical　journal　so　the　whole　world　could　know　about　it　right　away。　Damned　sure　CIA　didn't　do　that　very　often；　and　part　of　that　offended　her。　Another　tack；　then。　〃Okay；　when　you　do　find　out　something　important；　what　happens　then？〃
　　　〃We　kick　it　upstairs。　Here；　it　goes　right　to　Sir　Basil；　and　I　call　it　in　to　Admiral　Greer。　Usually　a　phone　call　over　the　secure　phone。〃
　　　〃Like　the　one　upstairs？〃
　　　〃Yep。　Then　we　send　it　over　by　secure　fax　or；　if　it's　really　hot；　it　goes　by　diplomatic　courier　out　of　the　embassy；　when　we　don't　want　to　trust　the　encryption　systems。〃
　　　〃How　often　does　that　happen？〃
　　　〃Not　since　I've　been　here；　but　I　don't　make　those　decisions。　What　the　hell；　the　diplomatic　bag　goes　over　in　eight　or　nine　hours。　Damned　sight　faster　than　it　used　to　happen。〃
　　　〃I　thought　that　phone　thingee　upstairs　was　unbreakable？〃
　　　〃Well；　some　things　you　do　are　nearly　perfect；　too；　but　you　still　take　extra　care　with　them；　right？　Same　with　us。〃
　　　〃What　would　that　be　for？　Theoretically　speaking；　that　is。〃　She　smiled　at　her　cleverness。
　　　〃Babe；　you　know　how　to　phrase　a　question。　Let's　say　we　got　something；　oh；　on　their　nuclear　arsenal；　something　from　an　agent　way　the　hell　inside；　and　it's　really　good　stuff；　but　losing　it　might　ID　the　agent　for　the　opposition。　That　is　what　you　send　via　the　bag。　The　name　of　the　game　is　protecting　the　source。〃
　　　〃Because　if　they　ID　the　guy…〃
　　　〃He's　dead；　maybe　in　a　very　unpleasant　way。　There's　a　story　that　once　they　loaded　a　guy　into　a　crematorium　alive　and　then　turned　on　the　gas…and　they　made　a　film　of　it；　pour　encourager　les　autres；　as　Voltaire　put　it。〃
　　　〃Nobody　does　that　anymore！〃　Cathy　objected　immediately。
　　　〃There's　a　guy　at　Langley　who　claims　to　have　seen　the　film。　The　poor　bastard's　name　was　Popov；　a　GRU　officer　who　worked　for　us。　His　bosses　were　very　displeased　with　him。〃
　　　〃You're　serious？〃　Cathy　persisted。
　　　〃As　a　heart　attack。　Supposedly；　they　used　to　show　the　film　to　people　in　the　GRU　Academy　as　a　warning　about　not　crossing　the　line…it　strikes　me　as　bad　psychology　but；　like　I　said；　I've　met　a　guy　who　says　he　saw　the　film。　Anyway；　that's　one　of　the　reasons　we　try　to　protect　our　sources。〃
　　　〃That's　a　little　hard　to　believe。〃
　　　〃Oh；　really？　You　mean；　like　a　surgeon　breaking　for　lunch　and　having　a　beer？〃
　　　〃Well。。。　yes。〃
　　　〃It's　an　imperfect　world　we　live　in；　babe。〃　He'd　let　things　go。　She'd　have　all　weekend　to　think　things　over；　and　he'd　get　some　work　done　on　his　Halsey　book。
　　　Back　in　Moscow；　fingers　were　flying。　How　u　gonna　tell　Lan＇gley＇；　she　asked。
　　　N＇ot＇　sure；　he　replied。
　　　Cour＇ier＇；　she　suggested。　This　could　be　re＇ally＇　hot。
　　　Ed　nodded　agreement。　Rit＇ter＇　will　be　exci＇ted＇。
　　　D＇amn＇　st＇raight＇；　she　agreed。　Want　m＇e＇　2　han＇dle＇　the　me＇et＇？　she　asked。
　　　Y＇our＇　Russian＇　is　pre＇etty＇　g＇ood＇；　he　agreed。
　　　This　time　she　nodded。　She　spoke　an　elegant　literary　Russian　reserved　to　the　well…educated　over　here；　Ed　knew。　The　average　Soviet　couldn't　believe　that　a　foreigner　spoke　his　language　that　well。　When　walking　the　street　or　conversing　with　a　shop　clerk；　she　never　let　that　skill　slip；　instead　stumbling　over　plex　phrases。　To　do　otherwise　would　have　been　noticed　at　once；　and　so　avoiding　it　was　an　important　part　of　her　cover；　even　more　than　her　blond　hair　and　American　mannerisms。　It　would　finger　her　immediately　to　their　new　agent。
　　　When？　she　asked　next。
　　　Iv＇an＇　sez　tom＇orrow＇。　Up　4　it？　he　responded。
　　　She　patted　his　hip　and　gave　a　cute；　playful　smile；　which　translated　to　bet　your　ass。
　　　Foley　loved　his　wife　as　fully　as　a　man　could；　and　part　of　that　was　his　respect　for　her　love　of　the　game　they　both　played。　Paramount　Central　Casting　could　not　have　given　him　a　better　wife。　They'd　be　making　love　tonight。　The　rule　in　boxing　might　be　no　sex　before　a　fight；　but　for　Mary　Pat　the　rule　was　the　reverse；　and　if　the　microphones　In　the　walls　noticed；　well；　fuck　'em；　the　Chief　of　Station　Moscow　thought；　with　a　sly　smile　of　his　own。
　　　〃When　do　you　leave；　Bob？〃　Greer　asked　the　DDO。
　　　〃Sunday。　ANA　to　Tokyo；　and　from　there　on　to　Seoul。〃
　　　〃Better　you　than　me。　I　hate　those