tc.redrabbit-第12章

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　　　〃Arthur；　I　took　my　chances；　along　with　everybody　else　on　the　boat。　I　did　not　tell　Tojo　where　I　was　in　a　personal　letter。〃
　　　〃The　man　has　some　serious　cojones；　guys；〃　Ritter　breathed。　〃We　have　seen　this　sort　of　thing　before。　Dr。　King　never　took　a　step　back　in　his　life；　did　he？〃
　　　〃And　I　suppose　the　KKK　was　as　dangerous　to　him　as　the　KGB　is　to　the　Pope；〃　Moore　pleted　the　thought。　〃Men　of　the　cloth　have　a　different　way　of　looking　at　the　world。　It's　called　'virtue；'　I　think。〃　He　sat　forward。　〃Okay；　when　the　President　asks　me　about　this…and　for　damned　sure　he　will…what　the　hell　do　I　tell　him？〃
　　　〃Our　Russian　friends　might　just　decide　that　His　Holiness　has　lived　long　enough；〃　Ritter　answered。
　　　〃That's　a　hell　of　a　big　and　dangerous　step　to　take；〃　Greer　objected。　〃Not　the　sort　of　thing　a　mittee　does。〃
　　　〃This　mittee　might；〃　the　DDO　told　the　DDL
　　　〃There　would　be　hell　to　pay；　Bob。　They　know　that。　These　men　are　chess　players；　not　gamblers。〃
　　　〃This　letter　backs　them　into　a　corner。〃　Ritter　turned。　〃Judge；　I　think　the　Pope's　life　might　be　in　danger。〃
　　　〃It's　much　too　early　to　say　that；〃　Greer　objected。
　　　〃Not　when　you　remember　who's　running　KGB。　Andropov　is　a　Party　man。　What　loyalty　he　has　is　to　that　institution；　damned　sure　not　to　anything　we　would　recognize　as　a　principle。　If　this　frightens；　or　merely　worries　them；　they　will　think　about　it。　The　Pope　has　hurled　down　his　gauntlet　at　their　feet；　gentlemen；〃　the　Deputy　Director　（Operations）　told　the　others。　〃They　just　might　pick　it　up。〃
　　　〃Has　any　Pope　ever　done　this？〃　Moore　asked。
　　　〃Resign　his　post？　Not　that　I　can　remember；〃　Greer　admitted。　〃I　don't　even　know　if　there's　a　mechanism　for　this。　I　grant　you　it's　one　hell　of　a　gesture。　We　have　to　assume　he　means　it。　I　don't　see　this　as　a　bluff。〃
　　　〃No；〃　Judge　Moore　agreed。　〃It　can't　be　that。〃
　　　〃He's　loyal　to　his　people。　He　has　to　be。　He　was　a　parish　priest　once　upon　a　time。　He's　christened　babies；　officiated　at　weddings。　He　knows　these　people。　Not　as　an　amorphous　mass…he's　been　there　to　baptize　and　bury　them。　They　are　his　people。　He　probably　thinks　of　all　Poland　as　his　own　parish。　Will　he　be　loyal　to　them；　even　at　the　peril　of　his　life？　How　can　he　not　be？〃　Ritter　leaned　forward。　〃It's　not　just　a　question　of　personal　courage。　If　he　doesn't　do　it；　the　Catholic　Church　loses　face。　No；　guys；　he's　serious　as　hell；　and　he　isn't　bluffing。　Question　is；　what　the　hell　can　we　do　about　it？〃
　　　〃Warn　the　Russians　off？〃　Moore　wondered　aloud。
　　　〃No　chance；〃　Ritter　shot　back。　〃You　know　better　than　that；　Arthur。　If　they　set　up　an　operation；　it'll　have　more　cutouts　than　anything　the　Mafia's　ever　done。　How　good　do　you　suppose　security　is　around　him？〃
　　　〃Not　a　clue；〃　the　DCI　admitted。　〃I　know　the　Swiss　Guards　exist；　with　their　pretty　uniforms　and　pikes。。。　Didn't　they　fight　once？〃
　　　〃I　think　so；〃　Greer　observed。　〃Somebody　tried　to　kill　him；　and　they　fought　a　rear…guard　action　while　he　skipped　town。　Most　of　them　got　killed；　I　think。〃
　　　〃Now　they　mostly　pose　for　pictures　and　tell　people　where　the　bathroom　is；　probably；〃　Ritter　thought　out　loud。　〃But　there　has　to　be　something　to　what　they　do。　The　Pope　is　too　prominent　a　figure　not　to　attract　the　odd　nutcase。　The　Vatican　is　technically　a　sovereign　state。　It　has　to　have　some　of　the　mechanisms　of　a　country。　I　suppose　we　could　warn　them…〃
　　　〃Only　when　we　have　something　to　warn　them　about。　Which　we　don't　have；　do　we？〃　Greer　pointed　out。　〃He　knew　when　he　sent　this　off　that　he'd　be　rattling　a　few　cages。　What　protection　he　does　have　must　be　alerted　already。〃
　　　〃This　will　get　the　President's　attention；　too。　He's　going　to　want　to　know　more；　and　he's　going　to　want　options。　Jesus；　people；　ever　since　he　made　that　Evil　Empire　speech；　there's　been　trouble　across　the　river。　If　they　really　do　something；　even　if　we　can't　pin　it　on　them；　he's　going　to　erupt　like　Mount　Saint　Helens。　There's　damned　near　a　hundred　million　Catholics　right　here　in　America；　and　a　lot　of　them　voted　for　him。〃
　　　For　his　part；　James　Greer　wondered　how　far　out　of　control　this　might　spin。　〃Gentlemen；　all　we　have　to　this　point　is　a　fax　of　a　photocopy　of　a　letter　delivered　to　the　government　in　Warsaw。　We　do　not　know　for　certain　that　it's　gone　to　Moscow　yet。　We　have　no　sign　of　any　reaction　to　this　from　…Moscow。　Now；　we　can't　tell　the　Russians　we　know　about　it。　So　we　can't　〃Warn　them　off。　We　can't　tip　our　hand　in　any　way。　We　can't　tell　the　Pope　that　we're　concerned；　for　the　same　reason。　If　Ivan's　going　to　react；　hopefully　one　of　Bob's　people　will　get　us　the　word；　and　the　Vatican　has　its　own　intelligence　service；　and　we　know　that's　pretty　good。　So；　for　the　moment；　all　we　have　is　an　interesting　bit　of　information　that　is　probably　true；　but　even　that　is　not　yet　confirmed。〃
　　　〃So；　for　the　moment；　you　think　we　just　sit　on　this　and　think　it　through？〃　Moore　asked。
　　　〃There's　nothing　else　we　can　do；　Arthur。　Ivan　won't　act　very　fast。　He　never　does…not　on　something　with　this　degree　of　political　import。　Bob？〃
　　　〃Yeah；　you're　probably　right；〃　the　DDI　agreed。　〃Still；　the　President　needs　to　hear　about　it。〃
　　　〃It's　a　little　thin　for　that；〃　Greer　cautioned。　〃But；　yes；　I　suppose　so。〃　Mainly　he　knew　that　not　telling　the　President；　and　then　having　something　dire　happen；　would　cause　all　of　them　to　seek　new　employment。　〃If　it　goes　further　in　Moscow；　we　ought　to　hear　about　it　before　anything　drastic　happens。〃
　　　〃Fine；　I　can　tell　him　that；〃　Judge　Moore　agreed。　Mr。　President；　we're　taking　a　very　close　look　at　this。　That　sort　of　thing　usually　worked。　Moore　rang　his　secretary　and　asked　for　some　coffee　to　be　sent　in。　Tomorrow　at　ten；　they'd　brief　the　President　in　the　Oval　Office；　and　then　after　lunch　would　be　his　weekly　sit…down　with　the　chiefs　of　the　other　services；　DIA　and　NSA；　to　see　what　interesting　things　they　had　happening。　The　order　should　have　been　reversed；　but　that's　just　how　things　were　usually　scheduled。
　　　His　first　day　at　work　had　lingered　quite　a　bit　longer　than　expected　before　he'd　been　able　to　leave。　Ed　Foley　was　impressed　by　the　Moscow　Metro。　The　decorator　must　have　been　the　same　madman　who'd　designed　Moscow　State　University's　wedding…cake　stonework…evidently　beloved　of　Joe　Stalin；　whose　personal　aesthetic　had　run　the　gamut　from　Y　to　Z。　It　was　strangely　reminiscent　of　the　czarist　palaces；　as　interpreted　by　a　terminal　alcoholic。　That　said；　the　metro　was　superbly　engineered；　if　somewhat　clunky。　More　to　the　point；　the　crush　of　people　was　very　agreeable　to　the　spook。　Making　a　brush…pass　or　other　sort　of　pickup　from　an　agent　would　not　be　overly　trying；　so　long　as　he　kept　to　his　training；　and　that　was　something　Edward　Francis　Foley　was　good　at。　Mary　Pat　would　love　it　here；　he　was　sure　now。　The　milieu　for　her　would　be　like　Disney　World　was　for　Eddie。　The　crush　of　people；　all　speaking　Russian。　His　Russian　was　pretty　good。　Hers　was　literary；　having　learned　it　at　her　grandfather's　knee；　though　she'd　have　to　de…tune　it；　lest　she　be　made　out　as　someone　whose　language　skirls　were　a　little　too　good　to　be　merely　those　of　the　wife　of　a　minor　embassy　official。
　　　The　subway　worked　well　for　him。　With　one　station　only　a　couple　of　blocks　from　the　embassy；　and　the　other　practically　at　their　apartment　house's　doorstep；　even　the　most　paranoid　Directorate　Two　shadow　would　not　find　his　use　of　it　terribly　suspicious；　despite　the　well…known　American　love　for　cars。　He　didn't　look　around　any　more　than　a　tourist　would；　and　thought　that　maybe　he'd　made　one　tail。　There'd　probably　be　more　than　that　for　the　moment。　He　was　a　new　embassy　employee；　and　the　Russians　would　want　to　see　if　he　wiggled　like　a　CIA　spook。　He　decided　to　act　like　an　innocent　American　abroad；　which　might　or　might　not　be　the　same　thing　to　them。　It　depended　on　how　experienced　his　current　shadow　was；　and　there　was　no　telling　that。　For　certain；　he'd　have　a　tail　for　a　couple　weeks。　That　was　an　expected　annoyance。　So　would　Mary　Pat。　So；　probably；　would　Eddie。　The　Soviets　were　a　paranoid　bunch；　but　then；　he　could　hardly　plain　about　that；　could　he？　Not　hardly。　It　was　his　job　to　crack　into　the　deepest　secrets　of　their　country。　He　was　the　new　Chief　of　Station；　but　he　was　supposed　to　be　a　stealthy　one。　This　was　one　of　Bob　Ritter's　new　and　more　creative　ideas。　Typically；　the　identity　of　the　boss　spook　in　an　embassy　wasn't　expected　to　be　a　secret。　Sooner　or　later；　everyone　got　burned　one　way　or　another；　either　ID'd　by　a　false…flag　operation　or　through　an　operational　error；　and　that　was　like　losing　one's　virginity。　Once　gone；　it　never　came　back。　But　the　Agency　only　rarely　used　a　husband…wife　team　in　the　field；　and　he'd　spent　years　building　his　cover。　A　graduate　of　New　York's　Fordham　University；　Ed　Foley　had　been　recruited　fairly　young；　vetted　by　an　FBI　background　check；　and　then　gone　to　work　for　The　New　York　Times　as　a　reporter　on　a　general　beat。　He'd　turned　in　a　few　interesting　stories；　but　not　too　many；　and　had　eventually　been　told　that；　while　the　Times　wasn't　going　to　fire　him；　it　might　be　better　for　him　to　seek　employment　with　a　smaller　newspaper　where　he　might　blossom　better　on　his　own。　He'd　taken　the　hint　and　gotten　a　job　with　the　State　Department　as　a　Press　Attache；　a　job　that　paid　a　decent　bureaucratic　wage；　though　without　a　supergrade's　destiny。　His　official　job　at　the　embassy　would　be　to　schmooze　the　elite　foreign　correspondents　of　the　great　American　papers　and　TV　networks；　granting　them　access　to　the　ambassador　and　other　embassy　officials；　and　then　keeping　out　of　the　way　while　they　filed　their　important　stories。
　　　His　most　important　job　was　to　appear　petent；　but　little　more。　Already　the　local　Times　correspondent　was　telling　his　colleagues　that　Foley　hadn't　had　the　right　stuff　to　make　it　big　as　a　journalist　at　America's　Foremost　Newspaper；　and　since　he　wasn't　old　enough　to　teach　yet…the　other　resting　place　for　inpetent　reporters…he　was　doing　the　next　worst　thing；　being　a　government　puke。　It　was　his　job　to　foster　that　arrogance；　knowing　that　the　KGB　would　have　its　people　ping　on　the　American　press　corps　for　their　evaluation　of　the　embassy　personnel。　The　best　cover　of　all　for　a　spook　was　to　be　regarded　as　dull　and　dim；　because　the　dull　and　the　dim　weren't　smart　enough　to　be　spies。　For　that；　he　thanked　Ian　Fleming　and　the　movies　he'd　inspired。　James　Bond　was　a　clever　boy。　Not　Ed　Foley。　No；　Ed　Foley　was　a　functionary。　The　crazy　part　was　that　the　Soviets；　whose　entire　country　was　governed　by　dull　functionaries；　more　often　than　not　fell　for　this　story　just　as　readily　as　if　they　were　someone　fresh　off　the　pig　farm　in　Iowa。
　　　There　is　nothing　predictable　about　the　espionage　business。。。　except　here；　the　Station　Chief　told　himself。　The　one　thing　you　could　depend　on　with　the　Russians　was　predictability。　Everything　was　written　down　in　some　huge　book；　and　everybody　here　played　the　game　by　the　book。
　　　Foley　got　aboard　the　subway　car；　looking　around　at　his　fellow　passengers；　seeing　how　they　looked　at　him。　His　clothing　marked　him　as　a　foreigner　as　clearly　as　a　glowing　halo　marked　a　saint　in　a　Renaissance　painting。
　　　〃Who　are　you？〃　a　neutral　voice　asked；　rather　to　Foley's　surprise。
　　　〃Excuse　me？〃　Foley　replied　in　badly　accented　Russian。
　　　〃Ah；　you　are　American。〃
　　　〃Da；　that　is　so。　I　work　at　American　embassy。　My　first　day。　I　am　new　in　Moscow。〃　Shadow　or　not；　he　knew　that　the　only　sensible　thing　was　to　play　this