tc.redrabbit-第39章

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　it　could；　just　to　see　what　might　fall　off　the　tree。　Possible；　but　damned　unlikely；　and　therefore　worth　the　gamble；　Foley　judged。　He'd　wear　the　green　tie　and　see　what　happened；　and　be　damned　careful　to　check　all　the　faces　on　the　subway　car。
　　　Tell　L＇angley＇？　Mary　asked　next。
　　　He　just　shook　his　head。　2　early　4　that。
　　　She　nodded　agreement。　Next；　Mary　Pat　mimed　riding　a　horse。　That　meant　that　there　was　a　chase　and　they　were　really　in　the　game；　finally。　It　was　as　though　she　were　afraid　that　her　skills　were　going　stale。　Damned　little　chance　of　that；　her　husband　thought。　He　was　willing　to　bet　that　his　wife　had　gone　all　the　way　through　parochial　school　without　a　single　rap　on　the　knuckles；　because　the　sisters　had　never　once　caught　her　misbehaving。。。
　　　And；　for　that　matter；　Ed　reflected；　neither　had　he。
　　　W＇ell＇；　tomor＇row＇　will　be　inter＇esting＇；　he　told　her；　getting　a　sexy　nod　as　a　reply。
　　　The　hard　part　for　the　rest　of　the　evening　was　not　dwelling　on　the　opportunity。　Even　with　their　training；　their　thoughts　kept　ing　back　to　the　idea　of　working　an　agent　in　the　Russian　MERCURY。　It　was　a　conceptual　homer　in　the　bottom　of　the　ninth　in　the　seventh　game　of　the　World　Series…Reggie　Jackson　Foley　as　Mister　October。
　　　Damn。
　　　〃So；　Simon；　what　do　we　really　know　about　the　guy？〃
　　　〃Not　all　that　much　on　the　personal　level；〃　Harding　admitted。　〃He's　a　Party　man　first；　last；　and　always。　His　horizons　have　been　broadened；　I　suppose；　from　his　chairmanship　of　KGB。　There's　talk　that　he　prefers　Western　liquor　to　his　own　vodka；　and　stories　that　he　enjoys　American　jazz；　but　those　could　be　stories　floated　in…house　by　The　Centre　to　help　him　appear　amenable　to　the　West…not　bloody　likely；　in　my　humble　opinion。　The　man　is　a　thug。　His　Party　record　is　not　one　of　gentleness。　One　doesn't　advance　in　that　organization　except　by　toughness…and　remarkably　often　the　highflyers　are　men　who　have　crushed　their　own　mentors　along　the　way。　It's　a　Darwinian　organization　gone　mad；　Jack。　The　fittest　survive；　but　they　prove　themselves　to　be　the　fittest　by　smashing　those　who　are　a　threat　to　them；　or　merely　smashing　people　to　prove　their　own　ruthlessness　in　the　arena　they've　chosen。〃
　　　〃How　smart　is　he？〃　Ryan　asked　next。
　　　Another　draw　on　the　briar　pipe。　〃He's　no　fool。　Highly　developed　sense　of　human　nature；　probably　a　good…even　a　brilliant…amateur　psychologist。〃
　　　〃You　haven't　pared　him　to　someone　from　Tolstoy　or　Chekhov；〃　Jack　noted。　Simon　was　a　lit　major；　after　all。
　　　Harding　dismissed　the　thought。　〃Too　easy　to　do　so。　No；　people　like　him　most　often　do　not　appear　in　literature；　because　novelists　lack　the　requisite　imagination。　There　was　no　warning　of　a　Hitler　in　German　literature；　Jack。　Stalin　evidently　thought　himself　another　Ivan　the　Terrible；　and　Sergei　Eisenstein　played　along　with　his　epic　movie　about　the　chap；　but　that　sort　of　thing　is　only　for　those　without　the　imagination　to　see　people　as　they　are　instead　of　being　like　someone　else　they　understand。　No；　Stalin　was　a　plex　and　fundamentally　inprehensible　monster；　unless　you　have　psychiatric　credentials。　I　do　not；〃　Harding　reminded　him。　〃One　need　not　understand　them　fully　to　predict　their　actions；　because　such　people　are　rational　within　their　own　context。　One　need　only　understand　that；　or　so　I　have　always　believed。〃
　　　〃Sometimes　I　think　I　ought　to　get　Cathy　involved　in　this　work。〃
　　　〃Because　she's　a　physician？〃　Harding　asked。
　　　Ryan　nodded。　〃Yeah；　she's　pretty　good　reading　people。　That's　why　we　had　the　docs　report　in　on　Mikhail　Suslov。　None　of　them　were　pshrinks；〃　Jack　reminded　his　workmate。
　　　〃So；　no；　we　know　remarkably　little　on　Andropov's　personal　life；〃　Harding　admitted。　〃No　one's　ever　been　tasked　to　delve　too　deeply　into　it。　If　he　gets　elevated　to　the　General…Secretaryship；　I　imagine　his　wife　will　bee　a　semipublic　figure。　In　any　case；　there's　no　reason　to　think　him　a　homosexual　or　anything　like　that。　They　are　quite　intolerant　of　that　aberration　over　there；　you　know。　Some　colleague　would　have　used　it　against　him　along　the　way　and　wrecked　his　career　for　fair。　No；　the　closet　they　live　in　within　the　Soviet　Union　is　a　very　deep　one。　Better　to　be　celibate；〃　the　analyst　concluded。
　　　Okay；　Ryan　thought；　I'll　call　the　Admiral　tonight　and　tell　him　that　the　Brits　don't　know；　either。　It　was　strangely　disappointing；　but　somehow　predictable。　For　all　that　the　intelligence　services　knew；　the　frequency　of　holes　in　their　knowledge　was　often　surprising　to　the　outsiders；　but　not　so　to　those　on　the　inside。　Ryan　was　still　new　enough　at　the　game　to　be　surprised　and　disappointed。　A　married　man　would　be　used　to　promise；　to　letting　his　wife　have　her　way　on　all　manner　of　things；　because　every　married　man　is　pussy…whipped　to　one　extent　or　another…unless　he　is　a　total　thug；　and　few　people　fit　into　that　category。　Fewer　still　could　rise　up　any　hierarchy　that　way；　because　in　any　organization　you　had　to　go　along　in　order　to　get　along。　That　was　human　nature；　and　even　the　munist　Party　of　the　Soviet　Union　couldn't　repeal　that；　for　all　their　talk　about　the　New　Soviet　Man　that　they　kept　trying　to　build　over　there。　Yeah；　Ryan　thought；　sure。
　　　〃Well；〃　Harding　said；　checking　his　watch；　〃I　think　we've　served　Her　Majesty　enough　for　one　day。〃
　　　〃Agreed。〃　Ryan　stood　up　and　collected　his　jacket　off　the　clothes　tree。　Take　the　tube　this　time　to　Victoria　Station；　and　catch　the　Lionel　home。　The　routine　was　getting　to　him。　It　would　have　been　better　to　get　a　place　in　town　and　cut　down　the　mute；　but　that　way　Sally　wouldn't　have　much　in　the　way　of　green　grass　to　play　on；　and　Cathy　had　been　adamant　about　that。　Renewed　proof　that　he　was　indeed　pussy…whipped；　Jack　thought　on　the　way　to　the　elevator。　Well；　it　could　have　been　worse。　He　did　have　a　good　wife　to　do　the　whipping；　after　all。
　　　Colonel　Bubovoy　came　back　to　the　embassy　on　his　way　home　from　the　airport。　A　short　dispatch　was　waiting；　which　he　quickly　decrypted：　He'd　be　working　through　Colonel　Rozhdestvenskiy。　No　particular　surprise　there。
　　　Aleksey　Nikolay'ch　was　Andropov's　lapdog。　And　that　was　probably　a　good　job；　the　rezident　thought。　You　just　had　to　keep　the　boss　happy；　and　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　was　probably　not　the　demanding　bastard　that　Beria　had　been。　Party　people　might　be　overly　precise　in　their　demands；　but　anyone　who'd　worked　in　the　Party　Secretariat　doubtless　knew　how　to　work　with　people。　The　age　of　Stalin　had　indeed　passed。
　　　So；　it　looked　as　though　he　had　an　assassination　to　arrange；　Bubovoy　thought。　He　wondered　how　Boris　Strokov　would　react　to　it。　Strokov　was　a　professional；　with　little　in　the　way　of　excess　emotion；　and　less　in　the　way　of　a　professional　conscience。　To　him；　work　was　work。　But　the　magnitude　of　this　was　higher　than　anything　he　would　have　encountered　working　for　the　Dirzhavna　Sugurnost。　Would　that　frighten　him　or　excite　him？　It　would　be　interesting　to　see。　There　was　a　coldness　to　his　Bulgarian　colleague　that　both　alarmed　and　impressed　the　KGB　officer。　His　particular　skills　could　be　useful　things　to　have　in　one's　pocket。　And　if　the　Politburo　needed　this　annoying　Pole　killed；　then　he　would　just　have　to　die。　Too　bad；　but　if　what　he　believed　was　true；　then　they　were　just　sending　him　off　to　heaven　as　a　holy　martyr；　weren't　they？　Surely　that　was　the　secret　ambition　of　every　priest。
　　　Bubovoy's　only　concern　was　the　political　repercussions。　Those　would　be　epic；　and　so　it　was　good　that　he　was　just　a　cutout　in　the　operation。　If　it　went　bad；　well；　it　wouldn't　be　his　fault。　That　Strokov　was　the　best　man　for　the　job；　based　on　his　curriculum　vitae；　was　something　no　man　could　deny；　something　a　board　of　inquiry；　if　any；　could　confirm。　He'd　warned　the　Chairman　that　a　shot；　however　closely　taken；　would　not　necessarily　be　fatal。　He'd　have　to　put　that　in　a　memo　to　make　sure　the　thin　paper　trail　on　operation　15…8…82…666　would　have　his　formal　evaluation　in　it。　He'd　draft　it　himself　and　send　it　by　diplomatic　bag　to　The　Centre…and　keep　his　own　copy　in　his　office　safe；　just　to　make　sure　his　own　backside　was　properly　covered。
　　　But　for　now　he　would　have　to　wait　for　the　authorization　to　e　from　the　Politburo。　Would　those　old　women　elect　to　go　forward　with　this？　That　was　the　question；　and　one　on　which　he　would　not　make　a　wager。　Brezhnev　was　in　his　dotage。　Would　that　make　him　bloodthirsty　or　cautious？　It　was　too　hard　a　question　for　the　colonel　to　puzzle　out。　They　were　saying　that　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　was　the　heir　apparent。　If　so；　here　was　his　chance　to　win　his　spurs。
　　　〃So；　Mikhail　Yevgeniyevich；　will　you　support　me　tomorrow？〃　Andropov　asked　over　drinks　in　his　flat。
　　　Alexandrov　swirled　the　expensive　brown　vodka　in　his　glass。　〃Suslov　will　not　attend　tomorrow。　They　say　his　kidneys　have　failed；　and　he　has　no　more　than　two　weeks；〃　the　ideologue…in…waiting　said；　briefly　dodging　the　issue。　〃Will　you　support　me　for　his　chair？〃
　　　〃Need　you　ask；　Misha？〃　the　Chairman　of　the　mittee　for　State　Security　responded。　〃Of　course　I　will　support　you。〃
　　　〃Very　well。　So；　what　are　the　chances　for　success　in　this　operation　you　propose？〃
　　　〃About　fifty…fifty；　my　people　tell　me。　We　will　use　a　Bulgarian　officer　to　set　it　up；　but　for　security　reasons　the　assassin　will　have　to　be　a　Turk。。。〃
　　　〃A　black…ass　Muslim？〃　Alexandrov　asked　sharply。
　　　〃Misha；　whoever　it　is　will　almost　certainly　be　apprehended…dead；　according　to　our　plan。　It　is　impossible　to　expect　a　clean　getaway　in　such　a　mission。　Thus；　we　cannot　use　one　of　our　own。　The　nature　of　the　mission　places　constraints　upon　us。　Ideally；　we　would　use　a　trained　sniper…from　Spetsnaz；　for　example…from　three　hundred　meters；　but　that　would　mark　the　assassination　as　a　killing　done　by　a　nation…state。　No；　this　must　appear　to　be　the　act　of　a　single　madman；　as　the　Americans　have　them。　You　know；　even　with　all　the　evidence　the　Americans　had；　some　fools　over　there　still　blamed　Kennedy　on　us　or　Castro。　No；　the　evidence　we　leave　must　be　a　clear　sign　that　we　were　not　involved。　That　limits　our　operational　methods。　I　think　this　is　the　best　plan　we　can　e　up　with。〃
　　　〃How　closely　have　you　studied　it？〃　Alexandrov　asked；　taking　a　swallow。
　　　〃It　has　been　closely　held。　Operations　like　this　must　be。　Security　must　be　airtight；　Mikhail　Yevgeniyevich。〃
　　　The　Party　man　conceded　the　point：　〃I　suppose　that　is　so；　Yuriy…but　the　risk　of　failure。。。〃
　　　〃Misha；　in　every　aspect　of　life；　there　is　risk。　The　important　thing　is　that　the　operation　not　be　tied　to　us。　That　we　can　assure　with　certainty。　If　nothing　else；　a　serious　wound　will　at　least　lessen　Karol's　ardor　for　making　trouble　for　us；　will　it　not？〃
　　　〃It　should…〃
　　　〃And　half　a　chance　of　failure　means　half　a　chance　of　total　success；〃　Andropov　reminded　his　guest。
　　　〃Then　I　will　support　you。　Leonid　Ilyich　will　go　along　as　well。　That　will　carry　the　day。　How　long　after　that　to　get　things　moving？〃
　　　〃A　month　or　so；　perhaps　six　weeks。〃
　　　〃That　quickly？〃　Party　matters　rarely　sped　along　that　well。
　　　〃What　is　the　point　of　taking　such；　such…'executive　action；'　isn't　that　what　the　Americans　call　it？…if　it　is　to　take　so　long？　If　it　is　to　be　done；　better　that　it　should　be　done　quickly；　so　as　to　forestall　further　political　intrigue　by　this　man。〃
　　　〃Who　will　replace　him？〃
　　　〃Some　Italian；　I　suppose。　His　selection　was　a　major　aberration。　Perhaps　his　death　will　encourage　the　Romans　to　go　back　to　their　old　habits；〃　Andropov　suggested。　It　gene