rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第26章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


there。
　Price　pulled　up　another　set　of　arrivals。　There　it　was；　the　Finnair　flight；　five　hours　out　of　Dulles。　Could　the　Russians　pull　together　their　information　and　confirm　that　Beria　had　flown　out　of　St。　Petersburg？　If　they　sounded　the　alarms；　how　long　would　it　take　FBI　to　throw　a　net　over　Dulles？
　Not　long。
　〃That's　all　the　time　you　have；　friend；〃　Price　said　to　the　screen。
　Reaching　for　the　phone；　he　punched　in　Richardson's　secure　number。　The　master　plan　had　called　Beria's　presence　in　the　United　States　a　contingency。　But　with　the　exposure　of　Treloar　inevitable；　that　status　was　about　to　change。
　
　
　Major…General　Kirov　had　been　on　his　feet　for　the　better　part　of　twenty…four　hours。　Painkillers；　Lara　Telegin's　unspeakable　betrayal；　and　an　insatiable　desire　to　find　Ivan　Beria　kept　him　going。
　Staring　out　his　office　window　at　the　gathering　twilight；　Kirov　reviewed　the　situation。　In　spite　of　what　he　had　told　Klein；　the　search　for　Beria　was　still　concentrated　in　Moscow。　He　had　listened　to　what　the　American　had　had　to　say；　and　had　been　openly　skeptical　about　his　theory　that　the　killer　had　run　to　St。　Petersburg　in　order　to　get　out　of　Russia。　Kirov　believed　that　the　fiasco　at　the　train　station　had　pletely　shattered　Beria's　intricate　plan。　Obviously　a　contact；　perhaps　ready　to　take　the　smallpox；　had　been　waiting　close　by。　Equally　true　was　that　the　shooting　would　have　frightened　him　off。　Certainly　there　would　have　been　a　fallback　rendezvous　point。　But　between　the　police；　the　militia；　and　the　security　forces；　Kirov　had　more　than　eight　thousand　men　scouring　the　city；　all　searching　for　a　single　face。　The　monster　from　the　Balkans　could　move　around　only　at　great　peril　to　himself…　and　to　his　contact。　Knowing　Beria　as　well　as　he　did；　Kirov　believed　that　he　had　gone　to　ground　somewhere　in　the　city。　That　being　the　case；　it　was　just　a　matter　of　time　before　he　was　flushed　and　the　stolen　smallpox　retrieved。
　But　for　all　his　certainty；　Kirov　knew　better　than　to　place　all　his　bets　on　a　single　roll　of　the　dice。　Honoring　his　promise　to　Klein；　he　had　called　the　head　of　the　Federal　Security　Service　in　St。　Petersburg。　The　FSS　and　the　police　already　had　Beria's　description　and　particulars；　the　call　from　Moscow　put　some　starch　into　their　search。　Kirov　had　instructed　the　FSS　mander　to　concentrate　his　resources　on　the　train　and　bus　stations…　places　where　Beria　would　most　likely　have　entered　the　city…　and　on　the　airport。　At　the　same　time；　passenger　manifests　and　airport　security　videos　were　to　be　thoroughly　checked。　If　there　was　the　slightest　possibility　that　Beria　had　been　or　still　was　in　St。　Petersburg；　Kirov　was　to　be　notified　immediately。
　
　
　Two　hours　after　American　1710　had　departed　London；　Adam　Treloar　finished　his　dinner　wine　and　stowed　his　meal　tray　into　the　armrest　of　his　seat。　Ambling　to　the　lavatory；　he　washed　his　hands　and　brushed　his　teeth　using　the　supplies　provided　in　the　amenities　kit。　On　the　way　back　to　his　seat；　he　decided　to　stretch　his　legs。
　Pulling　back　the　curtain；　he　stepped　into　business　class　and　walked　down　the　left…hand　aisle　of　the　darkened　partment。　Some　of　the　passengers　were　watching　a　movie　on　their　personal　video　screens；　others　were　either　working；　reading；　or　sleeping。
　Treloar　continued　all　the　way　to　the　back　of　the　economy　section；　made　the　turn　at　the　lavatories；　and　returned　up　the　right…hand　aisle。　Back　in　the　business　section；　he　stopped　abruptly　as　a　calculator　fell　at　his　feet。　He　leaned　down　to　pick　it　up　and　was　handing　it　to　the　passenger　in　the　aisle　seat　when　he　chanced　to　look　across　at　the　man　by　the　window；　asleep。
　〃Are　you　all　right？〃　the　passenger　whispered。
　Treloar　nodded　and　took　two　quick　steps　forward；　slipping　behind　the　curtain　into　first　class。
　Impossible！　It　can't　be　him。
　His　breath　came　in　deep　gasps　as　he　tried　desperately　to　calm　himself。　The　sleeping　man　in　the　window　seat　had　had　his　face　to　him：　Jon　Smith。
　〃Can　I　get　you　something；　sir？〃
　Treloar　stared　at　the　flight　attendant　who'd　e　up　to　him。　〃No。。。　thank　you。〃
　He　hurried　back　to　his　seat；　settled　in；　and　pulled　a　blanket　over　himself。
　Treloar　remembered　meeting　Smith　in　Houston。　He　had　made　the　mistake　of　revealing　that　he　had　overheard　Reed　talking　about　Venice　and　Smith。　Reed　had　warned　him　that　Smith　was　not　his　business。　He　had　assured　Treloar　that　there　was　no　reason　why　the　doctor　should　ever　again　cross　Treloar's　path。
　Then　what's　he　doing　here？　Is　he　following　me？
　The　questions　pounded　at　Treloar　as　he　glanced　down　at　his　carry…on；　tucked　beside　the　bulkhead。　In　his　mind's　eye；　he　saw　the　shiny　canister；　and　inside；　the　ampoules　with　their　deadly　golden…yellow　liquid。　Too　paralyzed　to　move；　he　tried　to　rein　in　his　panic。
　Think　logically！　I　f　Smith　knew　about　the　smallpox；　would　he　have　allowed　you　to　get　onboard　in　London？　Of　course　not！　You'd　be　in　chains　right　now。　So　he　doesn't　know。　His　being　here　is　a　coincidence。　It　must　be！
　His　reasoning　calmed　him　a　little；　but　as　soon　as　one　set　of　questions　was　answered；　another　popped　up：　Maybe　Smith　was　aware　that　he　was　carrying　the　virus；　but　there　hadn't　been　time　to　safely　arrest　him　in　London。　Maybe　the　British　had　refused　to　go　along。　Maybe　Smith　was　allowing　him　to　get　back　home　because　he　needed　the　time　to　establish　a　controlled　situation　at　Dulles。　They　would　fall　on　him　as　soon　as　he　disembarked。。。。
　Treloar　pulled　the　blanket　up　closer　under　his　chin。　Back　in　the　sunshine　and　safety　of　Houston；　Reed's　plan　had　sounded　so　easy；　so　perfect。　Yes；　there　was　an　element　of　danger；　but　it　was　infinitesimally　small　pared　to　the　rewards　he　stood　to　reap。　And　before　the　danger；　there　had　been　the　delights　of　Moscow。
　Treloar　shook　his　head。　He　had　memorized　what　it　was　he　was　supposed　to　do　upon　arrival　at　Dulles。　Now；　Smith's　unexplained　presence　had　turned　a　careful　plan　to　ashes。　Guidance；　explanations；　reassuring　words　were　needed。
　Reaching　out　from　under　the　blanket；　Treloar　pulled　out　the　inflight　phone。　At　this　point　in　the　operation；　munications　were　strictly　forbidden。　But　with　Smith　only　a　few　feet　away　that　rule　no　longer　applied。　Treloar　fumbled　with　his　credit　card　and　scanned　it　in　the　slot　cut　into　the　hand　unit。　Seconds　later；　the　transaction　was　approved　and　he　was　on…line。
　
　The　room　next　to　Randi's　office　had　been　set　up　as　a　small　conference　center；　plete　with　the　latest　audio…visual　equipment；　flatscreen　monitors；　and　a　professional　video/DVD…editing　unit　that　rivaled　anything　found　in　Disney's　animation　department。　On　most　Friday　afternoons；　the　staff　would　get　together；　eat　junk　food；　and　watch　the　latest　movies　on　DVD　courtesy　of　Amazon。
　Sitting　next　to　Sasha　Rublev；　Randi　watched　as　the　gangly　teenager　used　the　editing　and　enhancement　software　to　massage　the　blurred　image　of　the　face　on　the　tape。　Sasha　hadn't　moved　from　the　puter　for　hours。　Every　now　and　again　he　stopped　just　long　enough　to　chug　down　a　Coke；　then；　fortified；　he'd　return　to　his　task。
　All　the　while　Randi　had　been　nothing　more　than　a　silent　observer。　She　was　fascinated　how　Sasha　coaxed　pixel　after　pixel　out　of　what　appeared　to　be　nothing　more　than　a　smudge。　Little　by　little　the　image　of　a　man's　face　came　into　focus。
　Sasha　made　one　final　pass　at　the　keyboard；　then　rolled　his　head　to　work　out　the　kinks　in　his　neck。
　〃That's　it；　Randi；〃　he　said。　〃I　can't　get　it　any　better。〃
　Randi　squeezed　his　shoulder。　〃You　did　great。〃
　She　stared　at　the　picture　of　a　fleshy　face　punctuated　by　puffy　cheeks　and　thick　lips。　The　eyes　were　the　most　startling　features：　large　and　egg…shaped；　they　seemed　to　bulge　from　their　sockets。
　〃He's　an　ugly　man。〃
　Randi　started　at　the　sound　of　Sasha's　voice。　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　〃He　looks　like　a　troll。　There's　something　evil　about　him。〃　He　paused。　〃The　train　station。。。？〃
　〃I　don't　know；〃　Randi　replied　truthfully。　She　gave　Sasha　a　quick　hug。　〃Thank　you。　You've　been　a　great　help。　I　need　a　couple　minutes　to　finish　up　in　here　and　then　we'll　go　get　us　some　Egg　McMuffins。　Okay？〃
　Sasha　pointed　to　the　laptop　and　the　cell　phone　on　the　conference　table。　〃What　about　those？〃
　Randi　smiled。　〃Maybe　later。〃
　As　soon　as　she　was　alone；　Randi　established　a　secure　E…link　with　the　embassy's　senior　foreign　service　officer　who　was；　in　fact；　the　CIA　station　chief。　As　soon　as　he　acknowledged　her；　she　fired　off　an　urgent　request　for　any　and　all　information　about　the　man　whose　photo　would　follow。
　Randi　fed　a　printout　of　the　image　into　the　fax　machine　and；　checking　her　watch；　thought　that　she　should　get　a　reply　in　about　thirty　minutes。　As　she　reached　for　her　purse；　she　thought　of　Jon　Smith　and　wondered　why　this　〃ugly〃　man　was　so　important　to　him。
　
　〃Stay　calm；　Adam。　Just　stay　calm。〃'
　Adam　Treloar　sat　jammed　into　the　corner　of　his　spacious　window　seat。　He　was　grateful　for　the　privacy　afforded　in　the　first…class　cabin　and　the　drone　of　the　engines。　Nonetheless　he　spoke　in　whispers。
　〃What　am　I　supposed　to　do；　Price？〃　he　demanded。　〃Smith　is　onboard　this　plane。　I　saw　him！〃
　Anthony　Price　swiveled　his　chair　to　face　the　windows　fitted　with　bulletproof；　one…way　glass。　He　chose　a　random　point　in　the　sky　and　fixed　his　gaze　on　it。　Then　he　emptied　his　mind　of　everything　except　the　issue　at　hand。
　〃But　he　hasn't　seen　you；　has　he？〃　he　said；　trying　to　sound　as　reassuring　as　possible。　〃And　he　won't。　Not　as　long　as　you're　careful。〃
　〃But　what's　he　doing　here　in　the　first　place？〃
　Price　would　have　dearly　loved　to　know　that。
　〃I'm　not　sure；〃　he　said　carefully。　〃As　soon　as　we're　through　I'll　start　checking。　But　remember：　Smith　is　not　your　concern。　And　there　is　absolutely　no　reason　for　him　to　be　interested　in　you。〃
　〃Don't　lie　to　me！〃　Treloar　hissed。　〃You　think　I　don't　know　about　Smith's　role　in　the　Hades　horror？〃
　〃Smith　is　no　longer　with　USAMRIID；〃　Price　replied。　〃And　here's　something　you　may　not　know：　his　fiancée　was　killed　during　Hades。　Her　sister　works　in　Moscow　for　a　venture　capital　firm。〃
　〃Are　you　saying　Smith　was　there　for　personal　reasons？〃
　〃Could　well　be。〃
　〃I　don't　know。。。〃　Treloar　muttered。　〃I　don't　like　coincidence。〃
　〃But　sometimes　that's　all　it　is；〃　Price　said　soothingly。　〃Adam；　listen　to　me。　I　have　you　flagged　at　Dulles。　You'll　breeze　through　customs　and　immigration。　One　of　our　people　will　be　waiting　for　you　with　a　car。　You're　home　free。　So　just　relax。〃
　〃Just　make　sure　nothing　goes　wrong。　If　they　find…〃
　〃Adam！〃　Price　said　sharply。　〃We　don't　need　to　get　into　that。〃
　〃Sorry。。。〃
　〃Call　me　as　soon　as　you're　in　the　car。　And　don't　worry。〃
　Price　broke　the　connection。　Treloar　had　always　been　the　weak　link　in　the　chain。　But　also　indispensable。　He　was　the　only　member　of　the　pact　who　had　established　a　reason　for　going　to　Russia　on　a　regular　basis。　He　was　also　a　scientist　who　knew　how　to　handle　smallpox。　But　that　didn't　stop　Price；　who　hated　the　weak；　from　despising　him。
　〃Just　make　it　home；　Adam；〃　he　whispered　to　the　sky。　〃Make　it　home　and　you　will　certainly　get　your　just　rewards。〃
　
　CHAPTER　FIFTEEN
　　
　After　leaving　the　Washington　city　limits；　Nathaniel　Klein　drove　along　U。S。　15　until　he　reached　Thurmont；　Maryland。　There　he　took　Route　77；　slipped　past　Hagerstown；　and　followed　Hunting　Creek　until　he　reached　the　Catoctin　Mountain　Park　Visitors　Center。　Skirting　the　forest　ranger's