tc.redrabbit-第79章

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　this　city　who　makes　a　difference。
　　　〃Tell　you　what；　I'll　ask　around…see　what　people　think。〃
　　　〃Fair　enough。〃　Not　that　I　expected　anything　useful　from　you；　Prince　thought　a　little　too　loudly。
　　　He　was　less　skillful　than　he　thought　at　concealing　his　feelings。　He　would　never　be　a　good　poker　player；　the　Chief　of　Station　thought；　seeing　him　out　the　door。　He　checked　his　watch。　Lunchtime。
　　　Like　most　European　stations；　Kiev's　was　a　pale　yellow…just　like　a　lot　of　old　royal　palaces；　in　fact；　as　if　in　the　early　nineteenth　century　there　had　been　a　continent…wide　surplus　of　mustard；　and　some　king　or　other　had　liked　the　color；　and　so　everyone　had　painted　his　palace　that　way。　It　never　happened　in　Britain；　thank　God；　Haydock　thought。　The　ceiling　was　glass　set　in　iron　frames　to　let　the　light　in　but；　as　in　London；　the　glass　was　rarely；　if　ever；　cleaned；　and　was　instead　coated　with　soot　from　long…gone　steam　engines　and　their　coal…fired　boiler　fires。
　　　But　Russians　were　still　Russians。　They　came　to　the　platform　carrying　their　cheap　suitcases；　and　they　were　almost　never　alone；　mostly　in　family　groups；　even　if　only　one　of　them　was　leaving；　so　that　proper　goodbyes　could　be　experienced；　with　passionate　kisses；　male…to…female；　and　male…to…male；　which　always　struck　the　Englishman　as　peculiar。　But　it　was　a　local　custom；　and　all　local　customs　were　peculiar　to　visitors。　The　train　to　Kiev；　Belgrade；　and　Budapest　was　scheduled　to　leave　at　1：00　P。M。　on　the　dot；　and　the　Russian　railroads；　like　the　Moscow　Metro；　kept　to　a　fairly　precise　schedule。
　　　Just　a　few　feet　away；　Paul　Matthews　was　conversing　with　a　representative　of　the　Soviet　state　railway；　talking　about　the　motive　power…it　was　all　electric；　since　rade　Lenin　had　decided　to　bring　electricity　and　eliminate　lice　all　across　the　USSR。　The　former；　strangely；　had　proved　easier　than　the　latter。
　　　The　big　VL80T　lootive；　two　hundred　tons　of　steel；　sat　at　the　head　of　the　train　on　Track　Three；　with　three…day　coaches；　a　dining　car；　and　six　international　class　sleepers；　plus　three　mail　cars　just　behind　the　engine。　On　the　platform　were　the　various　conductors　and　stewards；　looking　rather　surly；　as　Russians　in　service…related　jobs　tended　to　do。
　　　Haydock　was　looking　around；　the　photos　of　the　Rabbit　and　the　Bunny　seared　into　his　memory。　The　station　clock　said　it　was　12：15；　and　that　tallied　with　his　wristwatch。　Would　the　Rabbit　show？　Haydock　usually　preferred　to　be　early　for　a　flight　or　a　train；　perhaps　from　a　fear　of　being　late　left　over　from　his　childhood。　Whatever　the　reason；　he'd　have　been　here　by　now　for　a　one　o'clock　train。　But　not　everyone　thought　that　way；　Nigel　reminded　himself…his　wife；　for　example。　He　was　slightly　afraid　that　she'd　deliver　the　baby　in　their　car　on　the　way　to　the　hospital。　It　would　make　a　hell　of　a　mess；　the　spook　was　sure；　while　Paul　Matthews　asked　his　questions；　and　the　photographer　shot　his　Kodak　film。　Finally。。。
　　　Yes；　that　was　the　Rabbit；　along　with　Mrs。　Rabbit　and　the　little　Bunny。　Nigel　tapped　the　shoulder　of　the　photographer。
　　　〃This　family　approaching　now。　Lovely　little　girl；〃　he　observed；　for　anyone　close　enough　to　listen。　The　photographer　fired　off　ten　frames　at　once；　then　switched　to　another　Nikon　and　fired　off　ten　more。　Excellent；　Haydock　thought。　He'd　have　them　printed　up　before　the　embassy　closed　down　for　the　night；　get　several　printed　off　to…no；　he'd　personally　hand　them　to　Ed　Foley；　and　make　sure　the　others　went　by　Queen's　Messenger…the　Brits'　rather　more　dignified　term　for　a　diplomatic　courier…so　they'd　be　sure　to　be　in　Sir　Basil's　hands　before　he　turned　in。　He　wondered　how　they　would　arrange　for　hiding　the　fact　of　the　Rabbit's　defection…it　certainly　meant　getting　cadavers。　Distasteful；　but　possible。　He　was　glad　he　didn't　have　to　figure　out　all　the　details。
　　　As　it　turned　out；　the　Rabbit　family　walked　within　ten　feet　of　him　and　his　reporter　friend。　No　words　were　exchanged；　though　the　little　girl；　like　little　girls　everywhere；　turned　to　look　at　him　as　she　passed。　He　gave　her　a　wink　and　got　a　little　smile　in　return。　And　then　they　passed　by；　walked　up　to　the　attendant；　and　showed　their　paper　ticket　forms。
　　　Matthews　kept　on　asking　his　questions　and　got　very　polite　answers　from　the　smiling　Russian　trainman。
　　　At　12：59：30；　the　conductor…or　at　least　so　Haydock　assumed；　from　the　shabby　uniform…walked　up　and　down　the　side　of　the　train　and　made　sure　all　the　doors　but　one　were　secure。　He　blew　a　whistle　and　waved　a　paddle…like　wand　to　let　the　engineer　know　it　was　time　to　move　off；　and　at　1：00　on　the　dot；　the　horn　sounded；　and　the　train　started　inching　away　from　the　platform；　gaining　speed　slowly　as　it　headed　west　into　the　capacious　railyard；　heading　for　Kiev；　Belgrade；　and　Budapest。
　　　
　　　CHAPTER　24　…　ROLLING　HILLS
　　　It　was　an　adventure　for　Svetlana　most　of　all；　but　actually　for　all　of　them；　since　none　of　the　Zaitzev　family　had　ever　taken　an　intercity　train。　The　railyards　on　the　way　out　were　like　any　railyards：　miles　of　parallel　and　converging　and　diverging　track　packed　with　box…　and　flatcars　carrying　who…knew…what　to　who…knew…where。　The　roughness　of　the　tracks　only　seemed　to　increase　the　apparent　speed。　Oleg　and　Irina　both　lit　cigarettes　and　looked　with　casual　interest　out　the　large　but　grubby　windows。　The　seats　were　not　unreasonable；　and　Oleg　could　see　how　the　beds　folded　down　from　the　overhead。
　　　They　had　two　partments；　in　fact；　with　a　connecting　door。　The　paneling　was　wood…birch；　by　the　look　of　it…and　each　partment；　remarkably；　had　its　own　lavatory；　and　so　zaichik　would　have　her　very　own；　for　the　first　time　in　her　life；　a　fact　she　had　yet　to　appreciate。
　　　Five　minutes　after　leaving　the　station；　the　conductor　came　by　for　their　tickets；　which　Zaitzev　handed　over。
　　　〃You　are　State　Security？〃　the　conductor　asked　politely。　So　the　KGB　travel　office　called　ahead　for　me；　Zaitzev　thought。　Good　of　them。　That　desk…sitter　probably　really　wanted　the　pantyhose　for　his　wife。
　　　〃I　am　not　permitted　to　discuss　that；　rade；〃　Oleg　Ivan'ch　answered；　with　a　hard　look；　making　sure　that　the　trainman　appreciated　his　importance。　That　was　one　way　to　ensure　proper　service。　A　KGB　officer　wasn't　quite　as　good　as　a　Politburo　member；　but　it　beat　the　hell　out　of　being　a　mere　factory　manager。　It　wasn't　so　much　that　people　dreaded　KGB；　but　that　they　just　didn't　want　to　go　out　of　their　way　to　e　to　the　agency's　adverse　notice。
　　　〃Yes；　of　course；　rade。　If　you　need　anything；　please　call　for　me。　Supper　is　at　eighteen　hours；　and　the　dining　car　is　the　next　one　forward。〃　He　pointed　the　way。
　　　〃How　is　the　food？〃　Irina　decided　to　ask。　Surely；　being　the　wife　of　a　KGB　officer　had　its　advantages。。。
　　　〃It　is　not　bad；　rade；〃　the　conductor　answered　politely。　〃I　eat　there　myself；〃　he　added；　which　said　something；　Oleg　and　Irina　both　thought。
　　　〃Thank　you；　rade。〃
　　　〃Enjoy　your　trip　with　us；〃　he　said；　and　he　took　his　leave。
　　　Oleg　and　Irina　both　took　out　books。　Svetlana　pressed　her　nose　to　the　window　to　watch　the　world　passing　by；　and　so　the　trip　began；　with　only　one　of　them　knowing　the　final　destination。　Western　Russia　is　mostly　a　region　of　rolling　plains　and　distant　horizons；　not　unlike　Kansas　or　eastern　Colorado。　It　was　boring　to　everyone　but　their　zaichik；　for　whom　everything　was　new　and　exciting；　especially　the　cattle　that　were　mainly　munching　on　grass。　Cows；　she　thought；　are　pretty　cool。
　　　Back　in　Moscow；　Nigel　Haydock　thanked　the　bureaucrat　from　the　Transport　Ministry　for　his　splendid　help；　along　with　Paul　Matthews；　and　then　they　made　their　way　off　to　the　British　Embassy。　The　embassy　had　a　photo　lab；　and　the　photographer　went　that　way；　while　Matthews　followed　Nigel　to　his　office。
　　　〃So；　Paul；　is　there　a　useful　story　in　that？〃
　　　〃I　suppose　there　might　be。　Is　it　important　that　there　should　be？〃
　　　〃Well；　it's　valuable　to　me　that　the　Sovs　should　think　I　can　bring　attention　to　the　glory　of　their　country；〃　Haydock　explained　with　a　chuckle。
　　　You　are　a　…6　chap；　aren't　you？　Matthews　thought　without　voicing　his　suspicion。　〃I　suppose　I　can　generate　something。　God　knows　British　Rail　needs　a　boost。　Maybe　this　will　encourage　the　exchequer　to　send　some　more　money　their　way。〃
　　　〃Not　a　bad　idea　at　all；〃　Nigel　agreed。　It　was　clear　that　his　guest　had　his　suspicions　but　had　the　good　grace　to　keep　them　quiet；　perhaps　until　a　later　day；　when　Nigel　was　back　at　a　desk　in　Century　House；　and　they　were　at　a　Fleet　Street　pub。
　　　〃You　want　to　see　our　photos？〃
　　　〃Would　you　mind？〃
　　　〃Not　at　all。　We　throw　most　of　them　away；　as　you　know。〃
　　　〃Excellent；〃　Haydock　announced。　Then　he　reached　into　the　credenza　behind　his　desk。　〃Drink；　Paul？〃
　　　〃Thank　you；　Nigel。　Yes；　a　sherry　would　be　nice。〃
　　　Two　sherries　later；　the　photographer　came　in　with　a　folder　full　of　prints。　Haydock　took　it　and　leafed　through　them。　〃You　do　excellent　work。　You　know；　when　I　use　my　Nikon；　I　never　quite　get　the　light　right。。。〃　he　said。　There；　a　nice　family　shot　of　the　Rabbit…and；　most　important；　Mrs。　Rabbit。　There　were　three；　each　one　better　than　the　last。　He　slid　them　into　his　drawer　and　handed　the　folder　back。　Matthews　took　his　cue。
　　　〃Well；　must　get　back　to　my　office　and　write　this　story　up。　Thanks　for　the　lead；　Nigel。〃
　　　〃My　pleasure；　Paul。　See　your　own　way　out？〃
　　　〃Not　a　problem；　old　man。〃　And　Matthews　and　his　photographer　disappeared　into　the　corridor。　Haydock　returned　his　attention　to　the　photos。　Mrs。　Rabbit　was　typically　Russian；　with　her　round；　Slavic　face…she　could　have　had　a　million　identical　sisters　throughout　the　Soviet　Union。　She　needed　to　lose　a　few　pounds　and　get　a　makeover　in　the　West。　。。　if　they　make　it　that　far；　he　cautioned　himself。　Height；　about　five　feet　four　or　so；　weight；　about　a　hundred　forty　pounds；　not　at　all　unpleasant。　The　child；　he　saw；　was　darling　with　her　lively　blue　eyes　and　happy　expression…too　young　to　learn　to　hide　her　feelings　behind　a　blank　mask；　as　nearly　all　the　adults　here　did。　No；　children　were　the　same　everywhere　in　their　innocence　and　insatiable　curiosity。　But；　most　important；　they　now　had　high…quality　photos　of　the　Rabbit　family。
　　　The　courier　was　on　the　top　floor；　near　the　office　of　the　Ambassador；　Sir　John　Kenny。　Haydock　passed　him　a　manila　envelope　sealed　by　metal　clasp；　glue；　and　wax　over　the　flap。　The　address　on　the　front　designated　the　Foreign　Office　box　that　went　straight　to　Century　House　across　the　Thames　from　Whitehall。　The　courier's　bag　was　an　expensive　leather　attache　case　with　the　coat　of　arms　of　the　Royal　House　of　Windsor　embossed　on　both　sides。　There　was　also　a　pair　of　handcuffs　for　him　to　secure　it　to　his　wrist；　despite　the　stern　rules　of　the　Vienna　Convention。　The　Queen's　Messenger　had　a　car　waiting　to　take　him　to　Sheremetyevo　International　Airport　for　the　British　Airways　737　afternoon　return　flight　to　Heathrow。　The　photos　would　be　in　Sir　Basil's　hand　before　he　went　home　for　the　evening；　and　surely　some　Century　House　experts　would　be　staying　late　that　night　to　go　over　them。　That　would　be　the　last　official　check　to　see　if　the　Rabbit　was　genuine。　His　face　would　be　pared　with　those　of　known　KGB　field　and　security　officers…and　if　there　was　a　hit；　then　Ed　and　Mary　Foley　were　in　for　a　bad　time。　But　Haydock　didn't　expect　that　to　happen。　He　agreed　with　his　CIA　counterparts。　This　one　looked　and　felt　real。　But　then；　so　did　good　Directorate　Two　people；　didn't　they？　His　last　stop　was　a