tc.redrabbit-第58章

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　then　replaced　in　the　pocket。。。
　　　But　first　he　retrieved　the　tobacco　tin　from　under　the　table。　It　was　a　move　so　skillfully　done　that　only　a　trained　counterintelligence　officer　could　have　spotted　it；　but；　Andreas　told　himself；　that　was　exactly　what　he　was。　And　it　was　his　pride　that　generated　his　first　and　most　costly　mistake　of　the　day。
　　　The　American　finished　his　coffee　and　took　his　leave；　with　Andreas　in　close　pursuit。　The　foreigner　walked　toward　the　underground　station　a　block　away　and　nearly　made　it。　But　not　quite。　He　turned　in　surprise　when　he　felt　a　hand　on　his　upper　arm。
　　　〃Could　I　see　the　tobacco　tin　that　you　took　from　the　table？〃　Andreas　said；　politely；　because　this　foreigner　was　probably；　technically　speaking；　a　diplomat。
　　　〃Excuse　me？〃　the　foreigner　said；　and　his　accent　made　him　either　British　or　American。
　　　〃The　one　in　your　pants　pocket；〃　Andreas　clarified。
　　　〃I　do　not　know　what　you　are　talking　about；　and　I　have　business　to　do。〃　The　man　started　to　walk　away。
　　　He　didn't　get　far。　Andreas　pulled　out　his　pistol。　It　was　a　Czech　Agrozet　Model　50　and　it　effectively　ended　the　conversation。　But　not　quite。
　　　〃What　is　this？　Who　are　you？〃
　　　〃Papers。〃　Andreas　held　out　his　hand；　keeping　his　pistol　in　close。　〃We　already　have　your　contact。　You　are；〃　he　added；　〃under　arrest。〃
　　　In　the　movies；　the　American　would　have　drawn　his　own　side　arm　and　tried　to　make　his　escape　down　the　twenty…eight　steps　into　the　ancient　metro。　But　the　American's　fear　was　that　this　guy　had　seen　too　many　movies　himself；　and　it　might　make　him　nervous　enough　to　pull　the　trigger　on　his　Czech　piece…of…shit　handgun。　So　he　reached　into　his　coat　pocket；　very　slowly　and　deliberately；　lest　he　scare　the　idiot；　and　withdrew　his　passport。　It　was　a　black　one；　the　sort　issued　to　diplomats；　and　instantly　recognizable　to　lucky　asses　like　this　stupid；　fucking　Hunky。　The　American's　name　was　James　Szell；　and　he　was　by　ancestry　Hungarian；　one　of　the　many　minorities　weled　to　the　America　of　the　previous　century。
　　　〃I　am　an　American　diplomat；　properly　accredited　to　your　government。　You　will　take　me　to　my　embassy　immediately。〃　Inwardly；　Szell　was　seething。　His　face　didn't　show　it；　of　course；　but　his　five　years　in　the　field　had　just　e　to　a　screeching　halt。　All　this　over　a　rookie　second…rate　agent　furnishing　second…rate　information　about　a　third…rate　munist　air　force。　Goddamn　it！
　　　〃First　you　will　e　with　me；〃　Andreas　told　him。　He　motioned　with　his　pistol。　〃This　way。〃
　　　The　PAN　AM　747　landed　at　Kennedy　half　an　hour　early　due　to　favorable　winds。　Cox　put　his　books　back　in　his　carry…on　and　stood；　managing　to　be　the　first　passenger　off；　with　a　little　help　from　the　stewardess。　From　there；　it　was　a　quick　walk　through　customs…his　canvas　bag　told　everyone　who　and　what　he　was…and　from　there　to　the　next　shuttle　to　Washington　National。　A　total　of　ninety　minutes　later；　he　was　in　the　back　of　a　cab　to　the　State　Department　at　Foggy　Bottom。　Inside　that　capacious　building；　he　opened　the　Diplomatic　Bag　and　parceled　out　the　various　contents。　The　envelope　from　Foley　was　handed　to　a　courier；　who　drove　up　the　George　Washington　Parkway　to　Langley；　where　things　also　move　fairly　fast。
　　　The　message　was　hand…carried　to　MERCURY；　the　CIA's　message　center；　and；　once　decrypted　and　printed　up；　hand…delivered　to　the　Seventh　Floor。　The　original　was　put　in　the　burn　bag；　and　no　hard　copies　were　kept；　though　an　electronic　one　was　transferred　to　a　VHS　cassette；　which　ended　up　in　a　slot　in　Sneezy。
　　　Mike　Bostock　was　in　his　office；　and　when　he　saw　the　envelope　from　Moscow；　he　decided　that　everything　else　could　wait。　It　surely　could；　he　saw　at　once；　but　when　he　checked　his　watch　he　knew　that　Bob　Ritter　was　over　eastern　Ohio　and　heading　west　on　an　All　Nippon　Airlines　747。　So　he　called　Judge　Moore　at　home；　and　requested　that　he　e　in　to　the　office。　Grumbling；　the　DCI　agreed　to　do　so；　at　once；　also　telling　Bostock　to　call　Jim　Greer　as　well。　Both　lived　agreeably　close　to　CIA　headquarters；　and　they　came　out　of　the　executive　elevator　just　eight　minutes　apart。
　　　〃What　is　it；　Mike？〃　Moore　asked　on　his　arrival。
　　　〃From　Foley。　Looks　like　he　has　something　interesting。〃　Cowboy　or　not；　Bostock　was　one　to　understate　things。
　　　〃Damn；〃　the　DCI　breathed。　〃And　Bob's　already　gone？〃
　　　〃Yes；　sir；　just　an　hour　ago。〃
　　　〃What　is　it；　Arthur？〃　Admiral　Greer　asked；　wearing　a　cheap　golf　shirt。
　　　〃We　got　us　a　Rabbit。〃　Moore　handed　the　message　over。
　　　Greer　took　his　time　going　over　it。　〃This　could　be　very　interesting；〃　he　thought；　after　a　moment's　reflection。
　　　〃Yes；　it　could。〃　Moore　turned　to　the　deputy　of　the　Operations　Directorate。　〃Mike；　talk　to　me。〃
　　　〃Foley　thinks　it's　hot。　Ed's　as　good　a　field　officer　as　anybody　we　have；　and　so's　his　wife。　He　wants　to　exfiltrate　this　guy　and　his　family　soonest。　We　pretty　much　have　to　go　with　his　instincts　on　this　one；　Judge。〃
　　　〃Problems？〃
　　　〃The　question　is：　How　do　we　acplish　the　mission？　Ordinarily；　we　leave　that　to　the　people　in　the　field；　unless　they　try　to　pull　something　crazy；　but　Ed　and　Mary　are　too　smart　for　that。〃　Bostock　took　a　breath　and　looked　out　the　floor…length　windows　to　the　Potomac　Valley；　out　beyond　the　VIP　parking　lot。　〃Judge；　Ed　seems　to　think　this　guy　has　some　very　hot　information。　We　can't　question　him　on　that。　The　obvious　supposition　is　that　the　Rabbit's　pretty　far　inside；　and　he　wants　to　get　the　hell　out　of　Dodge　City。　Adding　the　wife　and　daughter　to　the　package　is　a　serious　plication。　Again；　we　pretty　much　have　to　go　with　the　instincts　of　our　field　personnel。　It　would　be　nice　if　we　could　run　the　guy　as　an　agent；　have　him　deliver　information　on　a　continuing　basis；　but　for　some　reason　either　that　isn't　feasible；　or　Ed　thinks　he　has　what　we　need　and　want　already。〃
　　　〃Why　couldn't　he　tell　us　more？〃　Greer　observed；　still　holding　the　dispatch。
　　　〃Well；　it's　possible　that　he　was　time…limited　on　getting　this　to　the　bagman；　or　he　didn't　trust　the　courier　system　with　stuff　that　could　ID　the　guy　to　the　opposition。　Whatever　this　guy　has；　Ed　didn't　want　to　trust　normal　munications　channels；　and　that；　gentlemen；　is　a　message　in　and　of　itself。〃
　　　〃So；　you　say　approve　the　request？〃　Moore　asked。
　　　〃Not　a　hell　of　a　lot　else　we　can　do；〃　Bostock　pointed　out　rather　obviously。
　　　〃Okay…approved；〃　the　DCI　said　officially。　〃Get　it　off　to　him；　right　now。〃
　　　〃Yes；　sir。〃　And　Bostock　left　the　room。
　　　Greer　had　himself　a　chuckle。　〃Bob's　going　to　be　pissed。〃
　　　〃What　can　be　so　important　that　Foley　would　want　to　short…circuit　procedures　this　abruptly？〃　Moore　wondered　aloud。　〃We're　just　going　to　have　to　wait　to　find　out。〃
　　　〃I　suppose；　but　you　know；　patience　has　never　been　my　long　suit。〃
　　　〃Well；　think　of　this　as　a　chance　to　acquire　a　virtue；　Arthur。〃
　　　〃Great。〃　Moore　stood。　He　could　go　home　now　and　grumble　all　day；　like　a　kid　on　Christmas　Eve；　wondering　what　was　going　to　be　under　the　tree…if　Christmas　was　really　going　to　happen　this　year。
　　　
　　　CHAPTER　18　…　CLASSICAL　MUSIC
　　　The　bounce…back　signal　arrived　after　midnight　in　Moscow；　where　it　was　printed　up　and　walked　to　Mike　Russell's　desk　by　the　night　munications　officer　and　promptly　forgotten。　Due　to　the　eight…hour　time　difference　from　Washington；　this　was　often　the　busiest　time　for　inbound　signals；　and　that　one　was　just　another　piece　of　paper　with　gibberish　on　it；　one　which　he　was　not　allowed　to　decrypt。
　　　As　Mary　Pat　had　expected；　Ed　hadn't　gotten　any　sleep　to　speak　of；　but　had　done　his　best　not　to　roll　around　too　much；　lest　he　disturb　his　wife。　Doubts　were　also　part　of　the　espionage　game。　Was　Oleg　Ivan'ch　a　false…flag；　some　random　attempt　from　the：　KGB　on　which　he'd　bitten　down　a　little　too　fast　and　a　little　too　hard？　Had　the　Soviets　just　gone　fishing　at　random　and　landed　a　big　blue　marlin　on　the　first　try？　Did　KGB　play　such　games？　Not　according　to　his　lengthy　mission　briefing　at　Langley。　They'd　played　similar　games　in　the　past；　but　those　had　been　targeted　deliberately　toward　people　whom　they　knew　to　be　players；　from　whom　they　could　get　a　line　on　other　agents　just　by　following　them　around　to　check　out　drop　sites
　　　But　you　didn't　play　it　this　way。　You　didn't　ask　for　a　ticket　out　on　the　first　go…round　unless　you　really　wanted　something　specific；　like　the　neutralization　of　a　particular　target…and　that　couldn't　be　it。　He　and　Mary　Pat　hadn't　done　much　of　anything　yet。　Hell；　only　a　handful　of　people　at　the　embassy　knew　who　and　what　he　was。　He　hadn't　recruited　new　agents　yet；　nor　worked　any　existing　ones。　That　wasn't；　strictly　speaking；　his　job。　The　Chief　of　Station　wasn't　supposed　to　work　the　field。　He　was　supposed　to　direct　and　supervise　those　who　did；　like　Dom　Corso　and　Mary　Pat　and　the　rest　of　his　small　but　expert　crew。
　　　And　if　Ivan　knew　who　he　was；　why　tip　its　hand　so　quickly…it　would　only　tell　CIA　more　than　it　knew　now；　or　could　easily　learn。　You　didn't　play　the　spy　game　that　way。
　　　Okay；　what　if　the　Rabbit　was　a　throwaway；　whose　job　it　was　to　ID　Foley　and　then　give　over　useless　or　false　information…what　if　the　whole　job　had　as　its　objective　nothing　more　than　to　ID　the　COS　Moscow？　But　they　couldn't　have　targeted　him　without　knowing　who　he　。was；　could　they？　Even　KGB　didn't　have　the　assets　to　shotgun　such　a　mission　and　ping　on　every　embassy　staffer…it　was　way　too　clumsy　and　was　certain　to　alert　embassy　personnel　to　something　very　strange　under　way。
　　　No；　KGB　was　too　professional　for　that。
　　　So　they　couldn't　target　him　without　knowing；　and　if　they　knew；　they'd　want　to　hide　that　information；　lest　they　alert　CIA　to　a　source　or　method　that　they'd　be　far　better　advised　to　conceal。
　　　So　Oleg　Ivanovich　couldn't　be　a　false…flag；　and　that　was　that。
　　　So；　he　had　to　be　the　real　thing。　Didn't　he？
　　　For　all　his　intelligence　and　experience；　Foley　could　not　e　up　with　a　construct　that　made　the　Rabbit　anything　but　the　genuine　item。　The　problem　was　that　it　made　little　sense。
　　　But　what　in　espionage　ever　made　sense？
　　　What　did　make　sense　was　the　necessity　of　getting　this　guy　out。　They　had　a　Rabbit；　and　the　Rabbit　needed　to　run　away　from　the　Bear。
　　　〃You　can't　say　what's　bothering　you？〃　Cathy　asked。　〃Nope。〃
　　　〃But　it's　important？〃
　　　〃Yep。〃　He　nodded。　〃Yeah；　it　sure　is；　but　the　problem　is　that　we　don't　know　how　serious。〃
　　　〃Something　for　me　to　worry　about？〃
　　　〃Well；　no。　It's　not　World　War　Three　or　anything　like　that。　But　I　really　can't　talk　about　it。〃
　　　〃Why？〃
　　　〃You　know　why…it's　classified。　You　don't　tell　me　about　your　patients；　do　you？　That's　because　you　have　rules　of　ethics；　and　I　have　rules　of　classification。〃　Smart　as　Cathy　was；　she　still　hadn't　fully　grasped　that　one　yet。
　　　〃Isn't　there　any　way　I　can　help？〃
　　　〃Cathy；　if　you　were　cleared　for　this；　maybe　you　could　offer　insights。　But　maybe　not。　You're　not　a　pshrink；　and　that's　the　medical　field　that　applies　to　this…how　people　respond　to　threats；　what　their　motivations　are；　how　they　perceive　reality；　and　how　those　perceptions　determine　their　actions。　I've　been　trying　to　get　inside　the　heads　of　people　I　haven't　met　to　figure　out　what　they're　going　to　do　about　something。　I've　been　studying　how　they　think　for　quite　a　while；　even　before　I　joined　the　Agency；　but　you　know…〃
　　　〃Yeah；　it's　hard　to　look　inside　somebody's　brain。　And　you　know　what？〃
　　　〃What's　that？〃
　　　〃It's　harder　with　the　sane　ones　than　the　crazy　ones。　People　can　think　rationall