tc.redrabbit-第105章

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ssionals　are　somewhat　predictable；　since　they　all　study　out　of　the　same　syllabus。　But　what　about　a　rifle？〃
　　　〃How　many　men　you　have　to　use　for　this？〃
　　　〃Four；　besides　myself。　C　might　send　more　down　from　London；　but　not　all　that　many。〃
　　　〃Put　one　up　there？〃　Ryan　gestured　to　the　colonnade。　Seventy　feet　high？　Eighty？　About　the　same　height　as　the　perch　Lee　Harvey　Oswald　had　used　to　do　Jack　Kennedy。。。　with　an　Italian　rifle；　Jack　reminded　himself。　That　was　good　for　a　brief　chill。
　　　〃I　can　probably　get　a　man　up　there　disguised　as　a　photographer。〃　And　long　camera　lenses　made　for　good　telescopes。
　　　〃How　about　radios？〃
　　　〃Say；　six　civilian…band　walkie…talkies。　If　we　don't　have　them　at　the　embassy；　I　can　have　them　flown　in　from　London。〃
　　　〃Better　to　have　military　ones；　small　enough　to　conceal…we　had　one　in　the　Corps　that　had　an　earpiece　like　from　a　transistor　radio。　Also　better　if　it's　encrypted；　but　that　might　be　hard。〃　And　such　systems；　Ryan　didn't　add；　are　not　entirely　reliable。
　　　〃Yes；　we　can　do　that。　You　have　a　good　eye；　Sir　John。〃
　　　〃I　wasn't　a　Marine　for　long；　but　the　way　they　teach　lessons　in　the　Basic　School；　it's　kinda　hard　to　forget　them。　This　is　one　hell　of　a　big　place　to　cover　with　six　men；　fella。〃
　　　〃And　not　something　SIS　trains　us　to　do；〃　Sharp　added。
　　　〃Hey；　the　U。S。　Secret　Service　would　cover　this　place　with　over　a　hundred　trained　agents…shit；　maybe　more…plus　try　to　get　intel　on　every　hotel；　motel；　and　flophouse　in　the　area。〃　Jack　let　out　a　breath。　〃Mr。　Sharp；　this　is　not　possible。　How　thick　are　the　crowds？〃
　　　〃It　varies。　In　the　summer　tourist　season；　there　are　enough　people　here　to　fill　Wembley　Stadium。　This　ing　week？　Certainly　thousands；〃　he　estimated。　〃How　many　is　hard　to　reckon。〃
　　　This　mission　is　a　real　shitburger；　Ryan　told　himself。
　　　〃Any　way　to　hit　the　hotels；　try　to　get　a　line　on　this　Strokov　guy？〃
　　　〃More　hotels　in　Rome　than　in　London。　It's　a　lot　to　cover　with　four　field　officers。　We　can't　get　any　help　from　the　local　police；　can　we？〃
　　　〃What　guidance　on　that　from　Basil？〃　Ryan　inquired；　already　guessing　the　answer。
　　　〃Everything　is　on　close　hold。　No；　we　cannot　let　anyone　know　what　we're　doing。〃
　　　He　couldn't　even　call　for　help　from　CIA's　local　station；　Jack　realized。　Bob　Ritter　would　never　sanction　it。　Shitburger…was　optimistic。
　　　
　　　CHAPTER　31　…　BRIDGE　BUILDER
　　　Sharp's　official　residence　was　as　impressive　in　its　way　as　the　safe　house　outside　Manchester。　There　was　no　guessing　what…whom…it　had　been　built　for；　and　Ryan　was　tired　of　asking　anyway。　He　had　a　bedroom　and　a　private　bathroom；　and　that　was　enough。　The　ceilings　were　high　in　every　room；　presumably　defense　against　the　hot　summers　Rome　was　known　for。　It　had　been　about　80　during　the　afternoon　drive；　warm；　but　not　too　bad　for　someone　from　the　Baltimore…Washington　area；　though　to　an　Englishman　it　must　have　seemed　like　the　very　boiler　room　of　hell。　Whoever　had　written　about　mad　dogs　and　Englishmen　must　have　lived　in　another　age；　Jack　thought。　In　London；　people　started　dropping　dead　in　the　street　when　it　got　to　75。　As　it　was；　he　thought　he　had　three　days　to　worry；　and　one　in　which　to　execute　whatever　plan　he　and　Sharp　managed　to　e　up　with…in　the　hope　that　nothing　at　all　would　happen；　and　that　CIA　would　e　up　with　a　way　to　warn　His　Holiness's　security　troops　that　they　needed　to　firm　up　their　means　of　seeing　to　his　physical　safety。　Christ；　the　guy　even　wore　white；　the　better　to　make　a　perfect　sight　picture　for　whatever　gun　the　bad　guy　might　use…like　a　great　big　paper　target　blank　for　the　bad　guy　to　put　his　rounds　into。　George　Armstrong　Custer　hadn't　walked　into　a　worse　tactical　environment；　but　at　least　he'd　done　it　with　open　eyes；　albeit　clouded　by　lethal　pride　and　faith　in　his　own　luck。　The　Pope　didn't　live　under　that　illusion。　No；　he　believed　that　God　would　e　and　collect　him　whenever　it　suited　His　purpose；　and　that　was　that。　Ryan's　personal　beliefs　were　not　all　that　different　from　the　Polish　priest's；　but　he　figured　that　God　had　given　him　brains　and　free　will　for　a　reason…did　that　make　Jack　an　instrument　of　God's　will？　It　was　too　deep　a　question　for　the　moment；　and　besides；　Ryan　wasn't　a　priest　to　dope　that　one　out。　Maybe　it　was　a　lack　of　faith。　Maybe　he　believed　in　the　real　world　too　much。　His　wife's　job　was　to　fix　health　problems；　and　were　those　problems　visited　upon　people　by　God　Himself？　Some　thought　so。　Or　were　those　problems　things　God　merely　allowed　to　happen　so　that　people　like　Cathy　could　fix　them；　and　thus　do　His　work？　Ryan　tended　to　this　view；　and　the　Church　must　have　agreed；　since　it　had　built　so　many　hospitals　across　the　world。
　　　But　for　damned　sure；　the　Lord　God　didn't　approve　of　murder；　and　it　was　now　Jack's　mission　to　stop　one　from　happening；　if　that　was　possible。　Certainly　he　wasn't　one　to　stand　by　and　ignore　it。　A　priest　would　have　to　limit　himself　to　persuasion　or；　at　most；　passive　interference。　Ryan　knew　that　if　he　saw　a　criminal　drawing　a　bead　on　the　Pope…or；　for　that　matter；　anyone　else…and　he　had　a　gun　in　his　hand；　he　wouldn't　hesitate　more　than　a　split　second　to　interrupt　the　act　with　a　pistol　bullet　of　his　own。　Maybe　that　was　just　how　he　was　made　up；　maybe　it　was　the　things　he'd　learned　from　his　dad；　maybe　it　was　his　training　in　the　Green　Machine；　but　for　whatever　reason；　the　use　of　physical　force　would　not　make　him　faint　away…at　least　not　until　after　he'd　done　the　act。　There　were　a　few　people　in　hell　to　prove　that　fact。　And　so　Jack　started　the　mental　preparation　for　what　he'd　have　to　do；　maybe；　if　the　Bad　Guys　were　in　town　and　he　saw　them。　Then　it　hit　him　that　he　wouldn't　even　have　to　answer　for　it…not　with　diplomatic　status。　The　State　Department　had　the　right　to　withdraw　his　protection　under　the　Vienna　Convention；　but；　no；　not　in　a　case　like　this　they　wouldn't。　So　whatever　he　did　could　be　a　freebie；　and　that　wasn't　so　bad　a　deal；　was　it？
　　　The　Sharps　took　him　out　for　dinner…just　a　neighborhood　place；　but　the　food　was　brilliant；　renewed　proof　that　the　best　Italian　restaurants　are　often　the　little　mom…and…pop　places。　Evidently；　the　Sharps　ate　there　often；　the　staff　was　so　friendly　to　them。
　　　〃Tom；　what　the　hell　are　we　going　to　do？〃　Jack　asked　openly；　figuring　that　Annie　had　to　know　what　he　did　for　a　living。
　　　〃Churchill　called　it　KBO…keep　buggering　on。〃　He　shrugged。　〃We　do　the　best　we　can；　Jack。〃
　　　〃I　suppose　I'd　feel　a　hell　of　a　lot　better　with　a　platoon　of　Marines　to　back　my　play。〃
　　　〃As　would　I；　my　boy；　but　one　does　the　best　one　can　with　what　one　has。〃
　　　〃Tommy；〃　Mrs。　Sharp　said。　〃What　exactly　are　you　two　talking　about？〃
　　　〃Can't　say；　my　dear。〃
　　　〃But　you　are　CIA；〃　she　said　next；　looking　at　Jack。
　　　〃Yes；　ma'am；〃　Ryan　confirmed。　〃Before　that；　I　taught　history　at　the　Naval　Academy　in　Annapolis；　and　before　that　I　traded　stocks；　and　before　that　I　was　a　Marine。〃
　　　〃Sir　John；　you're　the　one　who…〃
　　　〃And　I'll　never　live　it　down；　either。〃　Why　the　hell；　Jack　wondered；　hadn't　he　just　kept　his　wife　and　daughter　behind　that　tree　on　the　Mall　in　London　and　let　Sean　Miller　do　his　thing？　Cathy　would　have　gotten　some　pictures　and　that　would　have　helped　with　the　police；　after　all。　No　good…or　dumb…deed　ever　went　unpunished；　he　supposed。　〃And　you　can　stop　the　Sir　John　stuff。　I　do　not　own　a　horse　or　a　steel　shirt。〃　And　his　only　sword　was　the　Mameluke　that　the　Marine　Corps　gave　to　its　officers　upon　graduation　at　Quantico。
　　　〃Jack；　a　knight　is　ceremonially　one　who　will　take　up　arms　in　protection　of　the　sovereign。　You've　done　that　twice；　if　memory　serves。　You　are；　therefore；　entitled　to　the　honorific；〃　Sharp　pointed　out。
　　　〃You　guys　never　forget；　do　you？〃
　　　〃Not　something　like　that；　Sir　John。　Courage　under　fire　is　one　of　the　things　worth　remembering。〃
　　　〃Especially　in　nightmares；　but　in　those　the　gun　never　works；　and；　yeah；　sometimes　I　have　them；〃　Jack　admitted；　for　the　first　time　in　his　life。　〃What　are　we　doing　tomorrow；　Tom？〃
　　　〃I　have　embassy　work　in　the　morning。　Why　don't　you　scout　the　area　some　more；　and　I　can　join　you　for　lunch。〃
　　　〃Fair　enough。　Meet　where？〃
　　　〃Just　inside　the　Basilica；　to　the　right；　is　Michelangelo's　Pieta。　Just　there　at　one　fifteen　exactly。〃
　　　〃Fair　enough；〃　Jack　agreed。
　　　〃So；　where　is　Ryan？〃　the　Rabbit　asked。
　　　〃Rome；〃　Alan　Kingshot　answered。　〃He's　looking　into　what　you　told　us。〃　All　of　this　day　had　been　occupied　with　uncovering　what　he　knew　of　KGB　operations　in　the　UK。　It　turned　out　to　be　quite　a　lot；　enough　that　the　three…man　Security　Service　team　had　positively　drooled　as　they　took　their　notes。　Ryan　had　been　wrong；　Kingshot　thought　over　dinner。　This　fellow　wasn't　a　gold　mine。　No；　he　was　Kimberly；　and　the　diamonds　just　spilled　out　from　his　mouth。　Zaitzev　was　relaxing　a　little　more；　enjoying　his　status。　As　well　he　might；　Alan　thought。　Like　the　man　who'd　invented　the　puter　chip；　this　Rabbit　was　set　for　life；　all　the　carrots　he　could　eat；　and　men　with　guns　would　protect　his　hole　in　the　ground　against　all　bears。
　　　The　Bunny；　as　he　thought　of　her；　had　discovered　Western　cartoons　today。　She　especially　liked　〃Roadrunner；〃　immediately　noting　the　similarity　to　the　Russian　〃Hey；　Wait　a　Minute；〃　and　laughing　through　every　one　of　them。
　　　Irina；　on　the　other　hand；　was　rediscovering　her　love　for　the　piano；　playing　the　big　Bosendorfer　in　the　home's　music　room；　making　mistakes　but　learning　from　them；　and　starting　to　recover　her　former　skills；　to　the　admiring　looks　of　Mrs。　Thompson；　who'd　never　learned　to　play　herself；　but　who'd　found　reams　of　sheet　music　in　the　house　for　Mrs。　Zaitzev　to　try　her　hand　at。
　　　This　family；　Kingshot　thought；　will　do　well　in　the　West。　The　child　was　a　child。　The　father　had　tons　of　good　information。　The　mother　would　breathe　free　and　play　her　music　to　her　heart's　content。　They　would　wear　their　newfound　freedom　like　a　loose　and　fortable　garment。　They　were；　to　use　the　Russian　word；　kulturniy；　or　cultured　people；　fit　representatives　of　the　rich　culture　which　had　long　predated　munism。　Good　to　know　that　not　all　defectors　were　alcoholic　ruffians。
　　　〃Like　a　canary　on　amphetamines；　Basil　says；〃　Moore　told　his　senior　people　in　the　den　of　his　home。　〃He　says　this　guy　will　give　us　more　information　than　we　can　easily　use。〃
　　　〃Oh；　yeah？　Try　us；〃　Ritter　thought　out　loud。
　　　〃Indeed；　Bob。　When　do　we　get　him　over　here？〃　Admiral　Greer　asked。
　　　〃Basil　asked　for　two　more　days　to　get　him　over。　Say；　Thursday　afternoon。　I'm　having　the　Air　Force　send　a　VC…137　over。　Might　as　well　do　it　first　class；〃　the　Judge　observed　generously。　It　wasn't　his　money；　after　all。　〃Basil's　alerted　his　people　in　Rome；　by　the　way；　just　in　case　KGB　is　running　fast　on　their　operation　to　whack　the　Pope。〃
　　　〃They're　not　that　efficient；〃　Ritter　said　with　some　confidence。
　　　〃I'd　be　careful　about　that；　Bob；〃　the　DDI　thought　out　loud。　〃Yuriy　Vladimirovich　isn't　noted　for　his　patience。〃　Greer　was　not　the　first　man　to　make　that　observation。
　　　〃I　know；　but　their　system　grinds　slower　than　ours。〃
　　　〃What　about　the　Bulgarians？〃　Moore　asked。　〃They　think　the　shooter　is　a　guy　named　Strokov；　Boris　Strokov。　He's　probably　the　guy　who　killed　Georgiy　Markov　on　Westminster　Bridge。　Experienced　assassin；　Basil　thinks。〃
　　　〃It　figures　they'd　use　the　Bulgars；〃　Ritter　observed。　〃They're　the　Eastern　Bloc's　Murder　Incorporated；　but　they're　still　munists；　and　they're　chess　players；　not　high…noon　types。　But　we　st