tc.redrabbit-第25章

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ore　substance　than　a　puff　of　cigarette　smoke。　Zaitzev's　country　had　the　greatest　army　on　earth；　a　fact　proclaimed　regularly　by　We　Serve　the　Soviet　Union；　the　TV　show　that　everybody　watched。
　　　So；　why　do　they　want　to　kill　a　man　who　poses　no　threat？　Would　he　part　the　oceans　with　a　wave　of　his　staff　or　bring　down　plagues　on　the　land？　Of　course　not。
　　　And　to　kill　a　harmless　man　is　a　crime；　Zaitzev　told　himself；　exercising　his　mind　for　the　first　time　in　his　tenure　at　#2　Dzerzhinskiy　Square；　silently　asserting　his　free　will。　He'd　asked　a　question　and　e　up　with　an　answer。
　　　It　would　have　been　helpful　if　he'd　had　someone　to　talk　to　about　that；　but　of　course　that　was　out　of　the　question。　That　left　Zaitzev　without　a　safety　valve…a　way　to　process　his　feelings　and　bring　them　to　some　kind　of　resolution。　The　laws　and　customs　of　his　nation　forced　him　to　recycle　his　thoughts　over　and　over；　and　ultimately　that　led　in　only　one　direction。　That　it　was　a　direction　of　which　the　State　would　not　approve　was；　in　the　end；　a　product　of　the　State's　own　making。
　　　On　finishing　his　lunch；　he　sipped　his　tea　and　lit　a　cigarette；　but　that　contemplative　act　didn't　help　the　state　of　his　mind。　The　hamster　was　still　running　in　its　wheel。　No　one　in　the　huge　dining　room　noticed。　To　those　who　saw　Zaitzev；　he　was　just　one　more　man　enjoying　his　after…meal　smoke　in　solitude。　Like　all　Soviet　citizens；　Zaitzev　knew　how　to　hide　his　feelings；　and　so　his　face　gave　nothing　away。　He　just　looked　at　the　wall　clock　so　that　he　wouldn't　be　late　going　back　to　work　for　his　afternoon　watch；　just　one　more　bureaucrat　in　a　large　building　full　of　them。
　　　Upstairs；　it　was　a　little　different。　Colonel　Rozhdestvenskiy　hadn't　wanted　to　interrupt　the　Chairman's　lunch；　and　so　he'd　sat　in　his　own　office　waiting　for　the　hands　on　the　clock　to　move；　munching　on　his　own　sandwich　but　ignoring　the　cup　of　soup　that　had　e　with　it。　Like　his　Chairman；　he　smoked　American　Marlboro　cigarettes；　which　were　milder　and　better　made　than　their　Soviet　counterparts。　It　was　an　affectation　he'd　picked　up　in　the　field；　but　as　a　high…ranking　First　Chief　Directorate　officer；　he　could　shop　at　the　special　store　in　Moscow　Centre。　They　were　expensive；　even　for　one　paid　in　〃certificate〃　rubles；　but　he　only　drank　cheap　vodka；　so　it　evened　out。　He　wondered　how　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　would　react　to　Goderenko's　message。　Ruslan　Borissovich　was　a　very　capable　rezident；　careful　and　conservative；　and　a　man　senior　enough　to　be　allowed　to　talk　back；　as　it　were。　His　job；　after　all；　was　to　feed　good　information　to　Moscow　Centre；　and　if　he　thought　something　might　promise　that　mission；　it　was　his　duty　to　warn　them　about　it…and　besides；　the　original　dispatch　had　not　carried　an　obligatory　directive　in　it；　just　an　instruction　to　ascertain　a　situation。　So；　no；　Ruslan　Borissovich　would　probably　not　get　into　any　trouble　from　his　reply。　But　Andropov　might　bark　and；　if　he　did；　then　he；　Colonel　A。　N。　Rozhdestvenskiy；　would　bear　the　noise；　which　was　never　fun。　His　place　here　was　enviable　in　one　way　and　frightening　in　another。　He　had　the　ear　of　the　Chairman；　but　being　that　close　meant　that　he　had　to　be　close　to　the　teeth；　too。　In　the　history　of　KGB；　it　was　not　unknown　for　some　people　to　suffer　for　the　actions　of　others。　But　it　was　unlikely　in　this　case。　Though　an　undeniably　tough　man；　Andropov　was　also　a　reasonably　fair　one。　Even　so；　it　didn't　pay　to　be　too　close　to　a　rumbling　volcano。　His　desk　phone　rang。　It　was　the　Chairman's　private　secretary。
　　　〃The　Chairman　will　see　you　now；　rade　Colonel。〃
　　　〃Spasiba。〃　He　rose　and　walked　down　the　corridor。
　　　〃We　have　a　reply　from　Colonel　Goderenko；〃　Rozhdestvenskiy　reported；　handing　it　over。
　　　For　his　part；　Andropov　was　not　surprised；　and　to　Colonel　Rozhdestvenskiy's　invisible　relief；　he　did　not　lose　his　temper。
　　　〃I　expected　this。　Our　people　have　lost　their　sense　of　daring；　haven't　they；　Aleksey　Nikolay'ch？〃
　　　〃rade　Chairman；　the　rezident　gives　you　his　professional　assessment　of　the　problem；〃　the　field　officer　answered。
　　　〃Go　on；〃　Andropov　manded。
　　　〃rade　Chairman；〃　Rozhdestvenskiy　replied；　choosing　his　words　with　the　greatest　care；　〃you　cannot　undertake　an　operation　like　the　one　you　are　evidently　considering　without　political　risks。　This　priest　has　a　good　deal　of　influence；　however　illusory　that　influence　may　be。　Ruslan　Borissovich　is　concerned　that　an　attack　on　him　might　affect　his　ability　to　gather　information；　and　that；　rade；　is　his　primary　task。〃
　　　〃The　assessment　of　political　risk　is　my　job；　not　his。〃
　　　〃That　is　true；　rade　Chairman；　but　it　is　his　territory；　and　it　is　his　job　to　tell　you　what　he　thinks　you　need　to　know。　The　loss　of　some　of　his　agents'　services　could　be　costly　to　us　both　in　direct　and　indirect　terms。〃
　　　〃How　costly？〃
　　　〃That　is　impossible　to　predict。　The　Rome　rezidentura　has　a　number　of　highly　productive　agents　for　NATO　military　and　political　intelligence　information。　Can　we　live　without　it？　Yes；　I　suppose　we　could；　but　better　that　we　should　live　with　it。　The　human　factors　involved　make　prediction　difficult。　Running　agents　is　an　art　and　not　a　science；　you　see。　〃
　　　〃So　you　have　told　me　before；　Aleksey。〃　Andropov　rubbed　his　eyes　tiredly。　His　skin　was　a　little　sallow　today；　Rozhdestvenskiy　noted。　Was　his　liver　problem　kicking　up　again？
　　　〃Our　agents　are　all　people；　and　individual　people　have　their　individual　peculiarities。　There　is　no　avoiding　it；〃　Rozhdestvenskiy　explained　for　perhaps　the　hundredth　time。　It　could　have　been　worse；　Andropov　actually　listened　some　of　the　time。　His　predecessors　had　not　all　been　so　enlightened。　Perhaps　it　came　from　Yuriy　Vladimirovich's　intelligence。　
　　　〃That's　what　I　like　about　signals　intelligence；〃　the　Chairman　of　KGB　groused。　That　was　what　everyone　in　the　business　said；　Colonel　Rozhdestvenskiy　noted。　The　problem　was　in　getting　signals　intelligence。　The　West　was　better　at　it　than　his　country；　despite　their　infiltration　of　the　West's　signals　agencies。　The　American　NSA　and　British　GCHQ；　in　particular；　worked　constantly　to　defeat　Soviet　munications　security　and　occasionally；　they　worried；　succeeded　at　it。　Which　was　why　KGB　depended　so　absolutely　on　one…time　pads。　They　couldn't　trust　anything　else。
　　　〃How　good　is　this？〃　Ryan　asked　Harding。
　　　〃We　think　it's　the　genuine　article；　Jack。　Part　of　it　es　from　open　sources；　but　most　es　from　documents　prepared　for　their　Council　of　Ministers。　At　that　level；　they　don't　lie　to　themselves　much。〃
　　　〃Why　not？〃　Jack　asked　pointedly。　〃Everyone　else　there　does。〃
　　　〃But　here　you're　dealing　with　something　concrete；　products　that　have　to　be　delivered　to　their　army。　If　they　do　not　appear；　it　will　be　noted；　and　inquiries　will　be　made。　In　any　case；〃　Harding　went　on；　qualifying　himself　carefully；　〃the　most　important　material　here　has　to　do　with　policy　questions；　and　for　that　you　gain　nothing　by　lying。〃　
　　　〃I　suppose。　I　raised　a　little　hell　at　Langley　last　month　when　I　ripped　through　an　economics　assessment　that　was　going　on　to　the　President's　office。　I　said　it　couldn't　possibly　be　true；　and　the　guy　who　drew　it　up　said　it　was　just　what　the　Politburo　saw　at　their　meetings…〃
　　　〃And　you　said　what；　Jack？〃　Harding　interrupted。
　　　〃Simon；　I　said；　whether　the　big　shots　saw　it　or　not；　it　simply　could　not　be　true。　That　report　was　total　bullshit…which　makes　me　wonder　how　the　hell　their　Politburo　makes　policy　when　the　data　they　base　it　on　is　about　as　truthful　as　Alice…in…goddamned…wonderland。　You　know；　when　I　was　in　the　Marine　Corps；　we　worried　that　Ivan　Ivanovich　the　Russian　Soldier　might　be　ten　feet　tall。　He　isn't。　There　may　be　a　lot　of　them；　but　they're　actually　smaller　than　our　people　because　they　don't　eat　as　well　as　children；　and　their　weapons　suck。　The　AK…47's　a　nice　rifle；　but　I'll　take　the　M…16　over　it　any　time；　and　a　rifle　is　a　damned　sight　simpler　than　a　portable　radio。　So　I　finally　get　into　CIA　and　find　out　the　tactical　radios　their　army　uses　are　for　shit；　and　so　it　turns　out　I　was　right　about　that　back　when　I　was　a　shavetail　butter…bar　in　the　Green　Machine。　Bottom　line；　Simon；　they　lie　to　the　Politburo　on　what　are　supposed　to　be　economic　realities；　and　if　they　lie　to　those　folks；　they'll　lie　about　anything。〃
　　　〃So；　what　happened　to　the　report　to　your　President？〃
　　　〃They　sent　it　to　him；　but　with　five　pages　of　mine　appended　to　the　back。　I　hope　he　got　that　far。　They　say　he　reads　a　lot。　Anyway；　what　I'm　saying　is　that　they　base　their　policy　on　lies；　and　maybe　we　can　make　better　policy　by　appreciating　reality　a　little　bit　better。　I　think　their　economy's　in　the　shitter；　Simon。　It　can't　be　performing　as　well　as　their　data　says　it　is。　If　it　were；　we'd　be　seeing　the　positive　results　in　the　products　they　make；　but　we　don't；　do　we？〃
　　　〃Why　be　afraid　of　a　country　that　can't　feed　itself？〃
　　　〃Yep。〃　Ryan　nodded。
　　　〃In　the　Second　World　War…〃
　　　〃In　1941；　Russia　got　invaded　by　a　country　that　they　never　liked　much；　but　Hitler　was　too　damned　stupid　to　make　their　antipathy　for　their　own　government　work　for　him；　so　he　implemented　racist　policies　that　were　calculated　to　drive　the　Russian　people　back　into　the　arms　of　Joe　Stalin。　So　that's　a　false　parison；　Simon。　The　Soviet　Union　is　fundamentally　unstable。　Why？　Because　it's　an　unjust　society；　and　there　ain't　no　such　thing　as　a　stable　unjust　society。　Their　economy。。。〃　He　paused。　〃You　know；　there　ought　to　be　a　way　to　make　that　work　for　us。。。〃
　　　〃And　do　what？〃
　　　〃Shake　their　foundations　some。　Maybe　a　mild　earthquake；〃　Ryan　suggested。
　　　〃And　bring　them　crashing　down？〃　Harding　asked。　His　eyebrows　went　up。　〃They　do　have　a　lot　of　nuclear　weapons；　you　might　want　to　remember。〃
　　　〃Okay；　fine；　we　try　to　arrange　a　soft　landing。〃
　　　〃Bloody　decent　of　you；　Jack。〃
　　　
　　　CHAPTER　7　…　SIMMERING
　　　Ed　foleys　job　as　Press　Attache　was　not　overly　demanding　in　terms　of　the　time　required　to　stroke　the　local　American　correspondents　and　occasionally　others。　〃Others〃　included　reporters　purportedly　from　Pravda　and　other　Russian　publications。　Foley　assumed　that　all　of　them　were　KGB　officers　or　stringers…there　was　no　difference　between　the　two　since　KGB　routinely　used　journalistic　covers　for　its　field　officers。　As　a　result；　most　Soviet　reporters　in　America　as　often　as　not　had　an　FBI　agent　or　two　in　close　attendance；　at　least　when　the　FBI　had　agents　to　spare　for　the　task；　which　wasn't　all　that　often。　Reporters　and　field　intelligence　officers　had　virtually　identical　functions。
　　　He'd　just　been　pinged　hard　by　a　Pravda　guy　named　Pavel　Kuritsyn；　who　was　either　a　professional　spook　or　sure　as　hell　had　read　a　lot　of　spy　novels。　Since　it　was　easier　to　act　dumb　than　smart；　he'd　fumbled　through　his　Russian；　smiling　with　apparent　pride　at　how　well　he'd　mastered　the　plex　language。　For　his　part；　Kuritsyn　had　advised　the　American　to　watch　Russian　TV；　the　quicker　to　master　the　mother　tongue。　Foley　had　then　drafted　a　contact　report　for　the　CIA　files；　noting　that　this　Pavel　Yevgeniyevich　Kuritsyn　smelled　like　a　Second　Chief　Directorate　boy　who　was　checking　him　out；　and　opining　that　he　thought　he'd　passed　the　test。　You　couldn't　be　sure；　of　course。　For　all　he　knew；　the　Russians　did　employ　people　who　read　minds。　Foley　knew　that　they'd　experimented　in　almost　everything；　even　something　called　remote　viewing；　which　to　his　professional　mind　was　a　step　down　from　gypsy　fortune…tellers…but　which　had　gotten　the　Agen