rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第33章

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　〃Gone。〃
　Megan　closed　her　eyes。　〃What　did　he　bring　in？〃
　〃Smallpox。〃
　〃Dear　God！〃
　〃Listen　to　me；　Megan。　You're　at　ground　zero。　We　thought　that　Treloar　might　be　dirty。　Now　we're　sure　that　he　was。　The　question　is；　did　he　have　acplices　in　the　shuttle　program？〃
　〃I　don't　know；〃　Megan　replied。　〃It　seems　impossible。　These　are　all　dedicated　individuals。　As　far　as　I　can　tell；　there's　nothing　suspicious　going　on。〃　She　shook　her　head。　〃But　then　again；　I　missed　Treloar；　didn't　I？〃
　〃Everybody　missed　him；〃　Klein　replied。　〃Don't　beat　yourself　up　over　that。　The　key　is　to　find　the　smallpox。　Covert…One　is　working　on　the　assumption　that　it's　somewhere　in　the　D。C。　area。　Whoever　has　it　would　not　want　to　transport　it　any　more　than　is　absolutely　necessary。　And　from　London；　Treloar　could　have　taken　a　nonstop　flight　anywhere…　Chicago；　Miami；　Los　Angeles。　He　chose　D。C。　for　a　reason。　We　think　that's　where　the　storage　facility　has　been　set　up。〃
　〃Do　you　still　want　me　to　go　ahead　and　fly　on　the　shuttle？〃
　〃Absolutely。　But　until　that　bird　is　off　the　pad；　don't　draw　attention　to　yourself。　If　you　spot　anything　suspicious；　call　me　immediately。〃　He　paused。　〃And　Megan；　if　we　don't　have　a　chance　to　talk　again；　good　luck　and　e　home　safely。〃
　Klein　broke　the　connection　and　Megan　found　herself　staring　at　a　dead　phone。　She　had　been　very　tempted　to　ask　Klein　if　Jon　Smith　also　worked　for　Covert…One；　if　that　had　been　the　reason　for　his　evasiveness。　Like　her；　Jon　was　someone　with　no　mitments；　few　attachments；　and　was　a　crisis…proven　specialist。　Megan　recalled　the　day　when；　during　one　of　her　brief　visits　stateside；　Klein　had　materialized　in　her　life；　quietly　offering　to　make　her　part　of　something　special；　unique；　giving　her　a　greater　sense　of　purpose　and　direction。　She　also　remembered　him　telling　her　how　she　would　probably　never　meet　another　member　of　Covert…One；　that　part　of　her　usefulness　lay　in　the　worldwide　contact　network　she　had　built　up；　men　and　women　she　could　turn　to　for　information；　favors；　sanctuary。
　Klein　would　never　tell　me。。。。　And　neither　would　Jon　i　f　he　were　involved。
　As　she　double…checked　her　packing；　Megan　thought　of　what　Klein　and　Jon　had　said　to　her；　to　e　home　safely。　But　if　Klein　didn't　find　the　smallpox；　would　there　be　anything　to　e　home　to？
　
　
　The　NASA　security　office　occupied　the　northeast　corner　of　the　administration　building's　second　floor。　Smith　handed　over　his　Pentagon　ID　and　waited　as　the　duty　officer　scanned　it　into　the　puter。
　〃Where's　your　manding　officer？〃　Smith　asked。
　〃Sir；　I'm　sorry。　We're　in　the　middle　of　a　shift　change。　Colonel　Brewster　has　left　the　building；　Colonel　Reeves　is　running　late　due　to。。。　ah；　personal　matters。〃
　〃I　can't　wait　around　for　the　colonel。　Clear　me　through。〃
　〃But；　sir…〃
　〃Lieutenant；　what　is　my　clearance？〃
　〃COSMIC；　sir。〃
　〃Which　means　that　I　can　examine　anything　in　this　facility；　right　down　to　your　last　fitness　report。　Correct？〃
　〃Yes；　sir！〃
　〃Now　that　we're　clear　on　that；　here's　what　we'll　do：　you　will　follow　the　appropriate　procedures　to　log　me　in。　You　will　not　mention　my　arrival　to　anyone　except　Colonel　Reeves；　with　whom　you　will　talk　to　face　to　face。　If　the　colonel　wishes　to　speak　with　me；　inform　him　that　I　will　be　in　the　Records　Room。〃
　〃Yes；　sir。　Is　there　anything　the　Records　Room　can　get　for　you？〃
　〃Just　tell　the　staff　to　ignore　me。　Now　let's　get　moving；　Lieutenant。〃
　As　he　was　buzzed　through　the　bulletproof　doors；　Smith　thought　that　his　bad…guy　act　had　achieved　the　desired　effect：　the　subordinate　was　cowed；　his　peer；　Colonel　Reeves；　would　be　annoyed　and　curious；　but　also　wary。　There　was　good　reason　why　Reeves　would　not　likely　go　around　asking　about　Smith。
　Technically；　NASA　is　a　civilian　program。　But　in　the　early　1970s；　when　the　agency　finally　decided　on　the　kind　of　shuttle　it　needed　and　how　to　launch　it；　it　discovered　that　it　had　no　alternative　but　to　turn　to　the　air　force。　A　devil's　bargain　was　struck：　in　return　for　the　Pentagon's　deeming　the　shuttle　〃an　essential　military　requirement；〃　NASA　would　not　only　get　to　use　the　air　force's　Atlas　and　Titan　booster　rockets　for　its　launches；　it　would　also　be　the　beneficiary　of　a　steady　revenue　stream。　The　other　side　of　the　coin　was　that　the　agency　was　at　the　mercy　of　the　Pentagon's　whims　and　interference。　Colonel　Reeves　held　senior　rank　with　the　NASA　hierarchy；　but　those　who　carried　the　Pentagon's　coveted　COSMIC　pass　represented　the　true　masters。
　Smith　followed　the　lieutenant　through　a　maze　of　corridors　that　dead…ended　at　a　fireproof　door。　After　punching　in　the　codes；　the　officer　pulled　back　the　door　and　stepped　to　the　side　to　allow　Smith　to　enter。　The　room　was　at　least　ten　degrees　cooler　than　the　rest　of　the　floor。　There　was　no　sound　save　for　the　hum　of　machines；　ten　of　the　fastest　puters　ever　built；　linked　to　data…storage　towers　and　PC　units　nestled　in　individual　workstations。
　Smith　felt　the　eyes　of　the　Records　Room　staff　flicker　over　him；　but　their　curiosity　was　short…lived。　He　followed　the　officer　to　a　workstation　well　away　from　the　others。
　〃This　is　Colonel　Reeves's　unit；〃　the　duty　officer　explained。　〃I'm　sure　he　won't　mind　if　you　use　it。〃
　〃Thank　you；　Lieutenant。　I　don't　expect　to　be　too　long…　assuming　I'm　not　interrupted。〃
　〃Understood；　sir。〃　He　handed　Smith　a　cell　phone。　〃Just　dial　three…zero…nine　when　you're　through；　sir。　I'll　e　and　get　you。〃
　Smith　settled　himself　in　front　of　the　monitor；　activated　the　puter；　and　fed　in　the　floppy　he'd　brought　with　him。　Within　seconds；　he　had　overridden　all　the　security　blocks　and　had　the　entire　Houston　NASA　network　at　his　fingertips。
　The　information　on　Adam　Treloar　that　Smith　had　received　from　the　other　federal　agencies　was　merely　a　starting　point。　Smith　had　traveled　to　Houston　to　begin　tracking　Treloar　where　he　had　lived　and　worked。　He　needed　the　internal　and　external　phone　logs；　interoffice　E…mail；　anything　that　resembled　a　trail…　electronic　or　otherwise。　There　he　would　learn　how　Treloar　had　lived；　whom　he'd　spoken　with　and　met；　how　often；　where；　for　how　long。　He　would　peel　back　the　traitor's　life　like　a　stalk　of　celery；　searching　for　that　one　anomaly；　coincidence；　or　pattern　that　would　be　the　first　link　in　the　chain　leading　to　Treloar's　coconspirators。
　Smith　tapped　a　few　keys　and　began　at　what　seemed　like　a　logical　point：　who　knew　that　Treloar　had　been　to　Russia？　Hidden　in　these　wafer…thin　chips　and　fiber　optics　might　be　instructions…　and　names　to　go　with　them。
　
　
　When　Dylan　Reed　arrived　at　his　office；　he　had　no　way　of　knowing　that　Smith　had　already　begun　his　search。　So　intent　was　he　on　the　morning's　crowded　agenda　that　he　almost　ignored　the　ping　from　his　puter；　signaling　an　alert。　Absently；　he　punched　in　a　sequence　of　numbers；　his　mind　still　on　the　first　meeting　of　the　day。　The　name　that　popped　up　on　the　screen　got　his　immediate　attention：　Adam　Treloar。
　Someone's　snooping！
　Reed's　hand　flew　to　the　phone。　Seconds　later；　he　was　listening　as　the　security　duty　officer　explained　Smith's　presence　in　the　Records　Room。
　Reed　strained　to　remain　calm。　〃No；　it's　fine；〃　he　told　the　officer。　〃Please　tell　Colonel　Reeves　that　our　visitor　is　not　to　be　disturbed。〃
　Our　visitor！　An　intruder！
　Reed　took　a　moment　to　steady　himself。　What　the　hell　was　Smith　doing　here？　Word　out　of　Washington　was　that　the　police　were　treating　Treloar's　death　as　just　another　mugging；　albeit　with　unintended　consequences。　Even　the　newscasts　found　the　story　mundane；　a　development　that　had　pleased　Reed；　Bauer；　and　Richardson。
　Reed　slammed　his　palm　against　the　leather　blotter　on　his　desk。　Damn　Smith！　He　recalled　how　frightened；　almost　terrified；　Treloar　had　been　of　Smith。　Now；　the　same　iciclelike　fingers　that　had　danced　up　and　down　Treloar's　spine　had　turned　themselves　on　him。
　Reed　took　a　deep　breath。　Bauer　had　been　right　to　suggest　that　Reed　flag　all　files　relating　to　Treloar；　in　case　someone　came　looking。
　And　someone　has。。。
　The　more　Reed　thought　about　it；　the　less　surprised　he　was　that　Smith　was　the　intruder。　Smith　had　a　reputation　for　tenacity　that　made　an　already　dangerous　man　potentially　lethal。　Reed　made　sure　that　his　nerves　were　settled　before　he　dialed　General　Richardson　at　the　Pentagon。
　〃This　is　Reed。　That　potential　problem　we　talked　about？　It's　real。〃　He　paused。　〃Hear　me　out；　but　I　think　you'll　agree：　we　have　to　activate　the　solution。〃
　
　
　CHAPTER　NINETEEN
　　
　A　Secret　Service　sedan　was　waiting　for　Jon　Smith　when　he　stepped　out　of　Ronald　Reagan　National　Airport。　Halfway　to　Camp　David；　the　call　he　had　been　expecting　came　through。
　〃Peter；　how　are　you？〃
　〃Still　in　Venice。　I　have　some　interesting　news　for　you。〃
　Without　going　into　the　details　of　his　interrogation　of　Dionetti；　Peter　Howell　told　Smith　about　the　Swiss　connection…　Herr　Weizsel　at　the　Offenbach　Bank　in　Zurich。
　〃Would　you　like　me　to　have　a　chat　with　the　Swiss　gnome；　Jon？〃
　〃Better　hold　off　on　that　until　I　get　back　to　you。　What　about　Dionetti？　We　don't　want　him　sounding　any　alarms。〃
　〃He　won't　be　doing　that；〃　Howell　assured　him。　〃He　has　a　severe　case　of　food　poisoning　and　is　expected　to　be　in　the　hospital　for　at　least　a　week。　Plus　he　knows　that　I　have　all　his　financial　records　and　can　ruin　him　with　one　phone　call。〃
　Howell　didn't　think　it　necessary　to　delve　into　details。
　〃I'll　stay　put　until　I　hear　from　you；〃　Howell　said。　〃If　necessary；　I　can　be　in　Zurich　in　two　hours。〃
　〃I'll　keep　you　posted。〃
　The　driver　dropped　Smith　off　at　Rosebud；　where　Klein　was　waiting　for　him。
　〃Good　to　have　you　back；　Jon。〃
　〃Yes；　sir。　Thank　you。　Any　word　on　the　smallpox？〃
　Klein　shook　his　head。　〃But　have　a　look　at　this。〃　He　passed　Smith　a　rolled…up　sheet　of　paper。
　The　ink　sketch　contained　some　of　Beria's　features　but　wasn't　precise　enough　to　clearly　define　the　assassin。　Beria's　appearance　was　nondescript　to　begin　with…　a　major　advantage　for　a　hired　killer。　The　posite　reflected　a　man　who　could　have　been　just　about　anyone。　It　would　be　sheer；　blind　luck　if　law　enforcement　stumbled　across　him…　which　was　precisely　what　Klein　wanted　Beria's　handlers　to　believe。　With　a　few　cosmetic　changes　to　his　appearance；　Beria　was　perfectly　safe：　his　controllers　would　continue　to　believe　that　his　usefulness　outweighed　his　potential　liability。
　Rolling　up　the　sheet；　Smith　tapped　it　against　his　palm。　He　thought　that　Klein　was　taking　an　enormous　risk：　by　denying　law　enforcement　access　to　the　true　likeness　of　Beria；　he　was　effectively　limiting　the　hunt。　But　on　the　other　end　of　the　scale　was　a　collateral　benefit：　when　the　posite　hit　the　street　and　Beria's　controllers　saw　it；　they　would　not　be　spooked。　Investigation　of　Treloar's　death　would　be　expected。　That　an　eyewitness　had　provided　police　with　a　general　description　would　not　be　seen　as　suspicious。　Smith　did　not　think　that　the　controllers　would　bee　careless；　but　they　would　remain　relaxed；　presuming　no　immediate　threat　to　their　long…range　plans。
　〃How'd　it　go　in　Houston？〃　Klein　asked。
　〃Treloar　was　damn　careful；〃　Smith　said。　〃Whatever　contacts　he　made；　he　was　meticulous　in　covering　up　his　tracks。〃
　〃Nonetheless　you　acplished　your　primary　mission。〃
　〃I've　chummed　the　waters；　sir。　Whoever　was　running　Treloar　knows　I'm　snooping。〃　He　paused。　〃Is　the　president　going　along　with　your　remendation　about　the　vaccine；　sir？〃
　〃He's　been　talking　to　the　dr