tc.redrabbit-第92章

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joy　the　rest　of　the　concert；　and　return　to　your　hotel。　We　shall　speak　again　there　at　one…thirty　or　so。　Can　you　do　that？〃
　　　Just　a　curt　nod　and　a　gasping　single　syllable：　〃Da〃　Oleg　Ivan'ch　really　needed　to　use　the　urinal　now。
　　　〃Be　at　ease；　my　friend。　All　is　planned。　All　will　go　well；〃　Hudson　said　to　him。　The　man　would　need　assurance　and　confidence　now。　This　had　to　be　the　most　frightening　moment　of　his　life。
　　　There　was　no　further　reply。　Zaitzev　took　the　next　three　steps　to　the　marble　urinal；　unzipped；　and　relieved　himself　in　more　than　one　way。　He　turned　to　leave　without　seeing　Hudson's　face。
　　　But　Trent　saw　his；　as　he　stood　there　and　sipped　a　glass　of　white　wine。　If　he'd　made　any　signal　to　a　fellow　KGB　spook　in　the　room；　the　British　officer　hadn't　seen　it。　No　rubbing　the　nose　or　adjusting　his　tie；　no　physical　sign　at　all。　He　just　walked　back　through　the　swinging　door　and　back　to　his　seat。　BEATRIX　was　looking　better　and　better。
　　　The　audience　was　back　in　its　seats。　Ryan　was　doing　his　best　to　look　like　just　one　more　classical　music　fan。　Then　Hudson　and　Trent　reentered　the　box。
　　　〃Well？〃　Ryan　rasped。
　　　〃Bloody　good　music；　isn't　it？〃　Hudson　replied　casually。　〃This　Rozsa　chap　is　first…rate。　Amazing　that　a　munist　country　can　turn　out　anything　better　than　a　reprise　of　the　Internationale。　Oh；　after　it's　over；〃　Hudson　added；　〃how　about　a　drink　with　some　new　friends？〃
　　　Jack　let　out　a　very　long　breath。　〃Yeah；　Andy；　I'd　like　that。〃　Son　of　a　bitch；　Ryan　thought。　It's　really　going　to　happen。　He　had　lots　of　doubts；　but　they'd　just　subsided　half　a　step　or　so。　It　wasn't　really　very　much；　but　it　was　a　damned　sight　better　than　it　could　have　been。
　　　The　second　half　of　the　concert　started　with　more　Bach；　the　Toccata　and　Fugue　in　D　Minor。　Instead　of　strings；　this　one　was　a　celebration　of　brass；　and　the　lead　cornet　here　might　have　taught　Louis　Armstrong　himself　something　about　the　higher　notes。　This　was　as　much　Bach　as　Ryan　had　ever　heard　at　one　time；　and　that　old　German　poser　had　really　had　his　shit　wired；　the　former　Marine　thought；　for　the　first　time　relaxing　enough　to　enjoy　it　somewhat。　Hungary　was　a　country　that　respected　its　music；　or　so　it　seemed。　If　there　was　anything　wrong　with　this　orchestra；　he　didn't　notice　it；　and　the　conductor　looked　as　though　he　were　in　bed　with　the　love　of　his　life；　so　transfixed　he　was　by　the　joy　of　the　moment。　Jack　wondered　idly　if　Hungarian　women　were　any　good　at　that。　There　was　an　earthy　look　to　them；　but　not　much　smiling。。。　Maybe　that　was　the　munist　government。　Russians　were　not　known　for　smiling；　either。
　　　〃So；　any　news？　〃Judge　Moore　asked。
　　　Mike　Bostock　handed　over　the　brief　dispatch　from　London。　〃Basil　says　his　COS　Budapest　is　going　to　make　his　move　tonight。　Oh；　you'll　love　this　part。　The　Rabbit　is　staying　in　a　hotel　right　across　the　street　from　the　KGB　rezidentura。〃
　　　Moore's　eyes　flared　a　bit。　〃You　have　to　be　kidding。〃
　　　〃Judge；　do　you　think　I'd　say　that　for　the　fun　of　it？〃
　　　〃When　does　Ritter　get　back？〃
　　　〃Later　today；　flying　back　on　Pan　Am。　From　what　he　sent　to　us　from　Seoul；　everything　went　pretty　well　with　the　KCIA　meetings。〃
　　　〃He'll　have　a　heart　attack　when　he　finds　out　about　BEATRIX；〃　the　DCI　predicted。
　　　〃It　will　get　his　eyes　opened；〃　the　Deputy　DDO　agreed。
　　　〃Especially　when　he　finds　out　that　this　Ryan　boy　is　in　on　it？〃
　　　〃On　that；　sir；　you　can　bet　the　ranch；　the　cattle；　and　the　big　house。〃
　　　Judge　Moore　had　himself　a　good　chuckle　at　that　one。　〃Well；　I　guess　the　Agency　is　bigger　than　any　one　individual；　right？〃
　　　〃So　they　tell　me；　sir。〃
　　　〃When　will　we　know？〃
　　　〃I　expect　Basil　will　let　us　know　when　the　plane　takes　off　from　Yugoslavia。　It's　going　to　be　a　long　day　for　our　new　friends；　though。〃
　　　The　next　selection　was　Bach's　〃Sheep　May　Safely　Graze。〃　Ryan　recognized　it　as　the　tune　played　in　a　Navy　recruiting　mercial。　It　was　a　gentle　piece；　very　different　from　that　which　had　preceded　it。　He　wasn't　sure　if　this　evening's　performance　was　a　showcase　for　Johann　Sebastian　or　for　the　conductor。　In　either　case；　it　was　pleasant　enough；　and　the　audience　was　wildly　appreciative；　noisier　than　for　the　concert　selection。　One　more　piece。　Ryan　had　a　program；　but　hadn't　bothered　looking　at　it；　since　it　was　printed　in　Magyar；　and　he　couldn't　read　Martian　any　better　than　he　could　decipher　the　spoken　form。
　　　The　last　selection　was　Pachelbel's　Canon；　a　justly　famous　piece；　one　that　had　always　struck　Ryan　like　a　movie　of　a　pretty　girl　saying　her　prayers　back　in　the　seventeenth　century；　trying　to　concentrate　on　her　devotions　instead　of　thinking　about　the　handsome　boy　down　the　lane　from　her　farmhouse…and　not　quite　succeeding。
　　　With　the　end；　Jozsef　Rozsa　turned　to　the　audience；　which　leapt　again　to　its　feet　and　howled　its　approval　for　endless　minutes。　Yeah；　Jack　thought；　the　local　boy　had　gone　away；　but　he'd　e　home　to　make　good；　and　the　home　boys　from　the　old　days　were　glad　to　have　him　back。　The　conductor　hardly　smiled；　as　though　exhausted　from　running　the　marathon。　And　he　was　sweating；　Jack　saw。　Was　conducting　that　hard？　If　you　were　that　far　into　it；　maybe　it　was。　He　and　his　Brit　panions　were　standing　and　applauding　as　much　as　everyone　else…no　sense　standing　out…before；　finally；　the　noise　stopped。　Rozsa　waved　to　the　orchestra；　which　caused　the　cheering　to　continue；　and　then　to　the　concertmaster　of　the　orchestra；　the　first　fiddle。　It　seemed　gracious　of　Rozsa；　but　probably　the　thing　you　had　to　do　if　you　wanted　the　musicians　to　put　out　their　best　for　you。　And　then；　at　long　last；　it　was　time　for　the　crowd　to　break　up。
　　　〃Enjoy　the　music；　Sir　John？〃　Hudson　asked　with　a　sly　grin。
　　　〃It　beats　what　they　play　on　the　radio　at　home；〃　Ryan　observed。　〃Now　what？〃
　　　〃Now　we　get　a　nice　drink　in　a　quiet　place。〃　Hudson　nodded　to　Trent；　who　made　his　own　way　off；　and　took　Ryan　in　tow。
　　　The　air　was　cool　outside。　Ryan　immediately　lit　a　cigarette；　along　with　every　other　man　in　view　and　most　of　the　women。　Hungarians　didn't　plan　to　live　all　that　long；　or　so　it　seemed。　He　felt　as　tied　to　Hudson　as　a　child　to　his　mother；　but　that　wouldn't　last　too　much　longer。　The　street　had　mostly　apartment…type　buildings。　In　a　Western　city；　it　would　have　been　condos；　but　those　probably　didn't　exist　here。　Hudson　waved　for　Ryan　to　follow　and　they　walked　two　blocks　to　a　bar；　ending　up　following　about　thirty　people　leaving　the　concert。　Andy　got　a　corner　booth　from　which　he　could　scan　the　room；　and　a　waiter　came　with　a　couple　glasses　of　wine。
　　　〃So；　we　go？〃　Jack　asked。
　　　Hudson　nodded。　〃We　go。　I　told　him　we'd　be　to　the　hotel　about　one…thirty。〃
　　　〃And　then？〃
　　　〃And　then　we　drive　to　the　Yugoslav　border。〃
　　　Ryan　didn't　ask　further。　He　didn't　have　to。
　　　〃The　security　to　the　south　is　trivial。　Different　the　other　way；〃　Andy　explained。　〃Near　the　Austrian　border；　it's　fairly　serious；　but　Yugoslavia；　remember；　is　a　sister　munist　state…that's　the　local　fiction　in　any　case。　I'm　no　longer　sure　what　Yugoslavia　is；　politically　speaking。　The　border　guards　on　the　Hungarian　side　do　well　for　themselves…many　friendly　arrangements　with　the　smugglers。　That　is　a　growth　industry；　but　the　smart　ones　don't　grow　too　much。　Do　that　and　the　Belugyminiszterium；　their　Interior　Ministry；　might　take　notice。　Better　to　avoid　that；〃　Hudson　reminded　him。
　　　〃But　if　this　is　the　back　door　into　the　Warsaw　Pact…hell；　KGB's　gotta　know；　right？〃
　　　Hudson　pleted　the　question。　〃So；　why　don't　they　shut　things　down？　I　suppose　they　could；　but　the　local　economy　would　suffer；　and　the　Sovs　get　a　lot　of　the　things　they　like　here；　too。　Trent　tells　me　that　our　friend　has　made　some　major　purchases　here。　Tape　machines　and　pantyhose…bloody　pantyhose；　their　women　kill　for　the　things。　Probably　most　are　overtly　intended　for　friends　and　colleagues　back　in　Moscow。　So；　if　KGB　intervened；　or　forced　the　AVH　to　do　so；　then　they　would　lose　a　source　of　things　they　themselves　want。　So　a　little　corruption　doesn't　do　any　major　damage；　and　it　supplies　the　greed　of　the　other　side。　Never　forget　that　they　have　their　weaknesses；　too。　Probably　more　than　we　do；　in　fact；　much　as　people　argue　to　the　contrary。　They　want　the　things　we　have。　Official　channels　can't　work　very　well；　but　the　unofficial　ones　do。　There's　a　saying　in　Hungarian　that　I　like：　A　nagy　kapu　mellett；　mindig　van　egy　kis　kapu。　Next　to　the　big　gate；　there　is　always　a　little　door。　That　little　door　is　what　makes　things　work　over　here。〃
　　　〃And　I'm　going　through　it。〃
　　　〃Correct。〃　Andy　finished　his　wine　and　decided　against　another。　He　had　a　ways　to　drive　tonight；　in　the　dark；　over　inferior　roads。　Instead；　he　lit　one　of　his　cigars。
　　　Ryan　lit　a　smoke　of　his　own。　〃I've　never　done　this　before；　Andy。〃
　　　〃Frightened？〃
　　　〃Yeah；〃　Jack　admitted　freely。　〃Yeah；　I　am。〃
　　　〃First　time　is　never　easy。　I've　never　had　people　with　machine　guns　e　into　my　home。〃
　　　〃I　don't　remend　it　as　after…dinner　entertainment；〃　Jack　replied；　with　a　twisted　smile。　〃But　we　managed　to　luck　our　way　out　of　it。〃
　　　〃I　don't　really　believe　in　luck…well；　sometimes；　perhaps。　Luck　does　not　go　about　in　search　of　a　fool；　Sir　John。〃
　　　〃Maybe　so。　Kinda　hard　to　notice　from　the　inside。〃　Ryan　thought　back；　again；　to　that　dreadful　night。　The　feel　of　the　Uzi　in　his　hands。　Having　to　get　that　one　shot　right。　No　second　chance　in　that　ballgame。　And　he'd　dropped　to　one　knee；　taken　aim；　and　gotten　it　right。　He'd　never　learned　the　name　of　the　guy　in　the　boat　he'd　stitched　up。　Strange；　he　reflected。　If　you　kill　a　man　right　by　your　home；　you　should　at　least　know　his　name。
　　　But；　yeah；　if　he　could　do　that；　he　could　damned　well　do　this。　He　checked　his　watch。　It　would　be　a　while　still；　and　he　wasn't　driving　tonight；　and　another　glass　of　wine　seemed　a　good　idea。　But　he'd　stop　it　there。
　　　Back　at　the　Astoria；　the　Zaitzevs　got　their　little　Bunny　to　bed；　and　Oleg　ordered　some　vodka　to　be　brought　up。　It　was　the　generic　Russian　vodka　brand　that　the　working　class　drank；　a　half…liter　bottle　with　a　foil　closure　at　the　top　that　essentially　forced　you　to　drink　it　all　in　one　sitting。　Not　an　altogether　bad　idea　for　this　night。　The　bottle　arrived　in　five　minutes；　and　by　then　zaichik　was　asleep。　He　sat　on　the　bed。　His　wife　sat　in　the　one　upholstered　chair。　They　drank　from　tumblers　out　of　the　bathroom。
　　　Oleg　Ivan'ch　had　one　task　yet　to　perform。　His　wife　didn't　know　his　plan。　He　didn't　know　how　she'd　react　to　it。　He　knew　she　was　unhappy。　He　knew　that　this　trip　was　the　high　point　of　their　marriage。　He　knew　she　hated　her　job　at　GUM；　that　she　wanted　to　enjoy　the　finer　things　in　life。　But　would　she　willingly　leave　her　motherland　behind？
　　　On　the　plus　side　of　the　ledger；　Russian　women　did　not　enjoy　much　in　the　way　of　freedom；　within　their　marriages　or　without。　They　usually　did　what　their　husbands　told　them　to　do…the　husband　might　pay　for　it　later；　but　only　later。　And　she　loved　him　and　trusted　him；　and　he'd　shown　her　the　best　of　good　times　in　the　past　few　days；　and　so；　yes；　she'd　go　along。
　　　But　he'd　wait　before　telling　her。　Why　spoil　things　by　taking　a　risk　right　now？　Right　across　the　street　was　the　KGB's　Budapest　rezidentura。　And　if　they　got　word　of　what　he　had　planned；　then　he　was　surely　a　dead　man。
　　　Back　at　the　British　Embassy；　sergeants　Bob　Small　and　Rod　Truelove　lifted　the　plastic　bags　and　carried　them　to　the　embassy's　nondescript　truck…the　license　tags　had　already　been　switched。　Bo