rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第45章

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　Earlier；　Megan　had　clung　to　the　frail　hope　that　Reed　would　return。　A　part　of　her　could　not　believe　that　he　would　kill　her　in　cold　blood。　But　as　the　hours　passed　and　she　listened　to　his　munication　with　mission　control；　she　came　to　accept　that　as　far　as　he　was　concerned；　she　was　already　dead。
　Megan　stared　hard　at　the　wiring　panel。　Because　she　was　able　to　eavesdrop　on　the　conversations　with　mission　control；　she　knew　how　Harry　Landon　intended　to　bring　down　the　shuttle　and；　more　important；　how　long　that　would　take。　She　still　had　time　to　figure　out　how　to　escape。　Once　she　did；　she　would　head　straight　for　the　auxiliary　munications　unit　in　the　lower　bay。
　But　if　the　wiring　continued　to　foil　her　and　time　began　to　run　out；　she　had　one　final　option。　Choosing　to　exercise　it　meant　that　the　door　would　open…　no　doubt　about　that。　But　there　was　no　guarantee　that　she　would　survive　the　aftermath。
　
　Smith　staggered　to　his　feet；　ripped　off　his　jacket；　and　tore　at　the　Velcro　straps　of　his　Kevlar　Second　Chance　bulletproof　vest。　It　was　rated　to　stop　anything　up　to　a　9mm　slug。　But　even　though　it　had　absorbed　Drake's　。22s　easily；　Smith　still　felt　as　though　he'd　been　kicked　in　the　chest　by　a　mule。
　Getting　into　his　car；　he　activated　the　global　positioning　system　built　into　the　dash。　Instantly　a　glowing　blue　dot　appeared　on　the　small　screen　that　showed　a　map　of　Fairfax　County。
　Smith　reached　for　the　phone。
　〃Klein　here。〃
　〃It's　me；　sir。〃　Smith　said。
　〃Jon！　Are　you　all　right？　I　received　reports　of　an　explosion。〃
　〃That　was　my　doing。〃
　〃Where　are　you？〃
　〃Just　outside　the　plant。　The　target's　moving…　by　the　looks　of　it；　on　foot。　Whoever　you　sent；　sir；　did　the　job。　They　got　here　just　in　time　to　spook　Drake。〃
　〃What　about　Drake？　Did　he　take　the　bait？〃
　Smith　glanced　at　the　pulsing　blue　dot。　〃Yes；　sir。　He's　on　the　move。
　
　It　took　Sergeant　Patrick　Drake　five　minutes　to　cover　the　one…mile　hiking　path　through　the　woods　between　the　power　plant　and　the　deserted　recreational　area　where　he'd　parked　his　vehicle。
　Alert　for　any　sign　of　a　tail；　Drake　drove　to　the　outskirts　of　Alexandria。　Pulling　into　the　lot　of　a　Howard　Johnson　motor　lodge；　he　parked　in　front　of　the　last　unit　in　the　row。　Drake　opened　the　door　to　find　General　Richardson　and　Anthony　Price　inside。
　〃Mission　report；　Sergeant？〃　Richardson　asked。
　〃The　target　was　neutralized；　sir；〃　Drake　replied　smartly。　〃Two　hits；　center　mass。〃
　〃You're　sure？〃　Price　demanded。
　〃What　do　you　want；　Tony？〃　Richardson　snapped。　〃Smith's　head　on　a　platter？〃　He　turned　to　Drake。　〃At　ease；　Sergeant。　You　did　well。〃
　〃Thank　you；　sir。〃
　Price　gestured　at　the　backpack　that　Drake　had　brought　with　him。　〃What's　that？〃
　Drake　dropped　the　pack　on　one　of　the　beds。　〃Something　Smith　left　behind。〃
　Undoing　the　straps；　he　laid　out　the　contents：　two　spare　ammunition　clips；　a　road　map；　a　cell　phone；　a　microcassette　recorder；　and　a　small；　round　object　that　got　Price's　attention。
　〃What's　that？〃
　〃A　flash　grenade；　sir；〃　Drake　said；　pretending　not　to　notice　Price's　shocked　expression。　〃It's　okay；　sir。　The　pin　is　secure。〃
　〃Give　us　some　privacy；　soldier；〃　Price　said。
　As　Drake　went　into　the　bathroom；　Price　grabbed　Richardson's　arm。　〃Enough　of　this　soldier…boy　shit；　Frank。　Neither　one　of　us　needed　to　be　here。　Drake　could　have　called　in　the　results。〃
　Richardson　jerked　his　arm　away。　〃That's　not　the　way　I　work；　Tony。　I　lost　a　soldier　boy；　as　you　call　him；　over　in　Palermo。　He　had　a　name。　Travis　Nichols。　And　in　case　you've　forgotten；　Smith　got　close　enough　to　us　to　call　me　at　Fort　Belvoir…　on　a　line　you　guaranteed　was　secure！〃
　〃The　number　was　secure！〃　Price　shot　back。　〃Your　man　gave　it　up。〃
　Richardson　shook　his　head。　〃For　someone　who's　done　the　things　you　have；　you　sure　don't　like　getting　your　hands　dirty；　do　you？　You　prefer　to　give　orders　and　let　others　die　while　you　watch　the　results　on　television；　like　this　is　all　a　big　game。〃　Richardson　leaned　in　close。　〃I'm　not　playing　a　game；　Tony。　I'm　doing　this　because　I　believe　it　is　necessary。　I'm　doing　this　for　my　country。　What　do　you　believe　in？〃
　〃The　same；〃　Price　replied。
　Richardson　snorted。　〃But　you've　feathered　your　bed　with　Bauer…Zermatt；　haven't　you？　As　soon　as　we　give　the　world　a　small　taste　of　what　our　bug　can　do；　everyone　will　be　clamoring　for　an　antidote。　Coincidentally　Bauer…Zermatt　will　leak　that　it　has　the　inside　track　on　the　research　and　its　stock　will　skyrocket。　I'm　curious；　Tony。　Just　how　many　shares　did　Bauer　give　you？〃
　〃A　million；〃　Price　replied　calmly。　〃And　he　didn't　give　them　to　me；　Frank。　I　earned　them。　Don't　forget　that　I　was　the　one　who　found　Beria；　who　watched　your　back；　making　sure　that　no　one　even　got　a　whiff　of　what　was　happening　in　Hawaii。　So　don't　try　to　rub　my　nose　in　this　hero　horseshit！〃
　He　glanced　at　the　items　Drake　had　removed　from　the　backpack。　〃Now　let's　wrap　this　thing　up。。。〃
　His　words　trailed　off。
　〃What's　wrong？〃　Richardson　asked。
　Price　picked　up　the　microcassette　recorder；　examined　the　casing；　and　popped　open　the　cover。　〃Say　it　ain't　so；〃　he　muttered。
　〃What？〃　Richardson　demanded。　〃Smith　brought　it　along　so　that　he　could　tape　a　confession。〃
　〃Maybe。。。〃
　Price　removed　the　cassette　and　pulled　one　of　the　two　pins　that　held　it　in　place。　The　assembly　came　away　in　one　piece。
　〃And　maybe　not！〃　His　face　was　mottled　with　rage。　〃I　knew　I　recognized　this　thing！　Take　a　look；　Frank。〃
　In　the　cavity　Richardson　saw　a　state…of…the…art　transmitter。
　〃The　latest　in　surveillance　technology！〃　Price　hissed。　〃Your　boy's　been　had！　Smith　knew　that　if　something　went　wrong；　his　killer　was　sure　to　take　the　backpack。　Somebody's　heard　every　word　we　said！〃
　〃Sergeant！〃　Richardson　roared。
　Drake　bolted　out　of　the　bathroom；　gun　in　hand。　Richardson　marched　up　to　him　and　showed　him　the　gutted　recorder。　〃Tell　me　again；　is　Smith　dead？〃
　Drake　recognized　the　transmitter　instantly。　〃Sir；　I　didn't　know。。。〃
　〃Is　he　dead？〃
　〃Yes；　sir！〃
　〃All　that　means　is　that　he　can't　tell　us　where　the　receiver　is；〃　Price　said。　He　looked　at　Richardson。　〃Are　you　a　religious　man；　Frank？　Because　prayer　might　be　the　only　thing　we　have　left！〃
　
　The　front　door　to　the　unit　opened　and　Richardson；　Price；　and　Drake　stepped　out　fast；　heading　for　their　cars。
　Fifty　feet　away；　in　the　shadows；　Jon　Smith　watched　them　through　the　windshield　of　his　vehicle。
　〃It's　Richardson；　Price；　and　Drake；〃　he　said　into　the　phone。
　〃I　know；〃　Klein　replied。　〃I　recognized　their　voices…　except　for　Drake's。　So　did　the　president。〃
　Smith　glanced　at　the　transmitting　unit；　set　in　the　passenger…seat　well；　that　had　relayed　the　conspirators'　words　to　Camp　David。
　〃I'm　going　to　move　in；　sir。〃
　〃No；　Jon。　Look　around　you。〃
　Smith　saw　two　black　sedans　moving　into　position　to　block　the　front　entrance　of　the　motor　court。　Another　pair　was　closing　off　the　rear　exit。
　〃Who　are　they；　sir？〃
　〃Doesn't　matter。　They'll　deal　with　Richardson　and　Price。　Just　stay　low　until　it's　all　over；　then　get　the　hell　away。　I'll　expect　you　at　the　White　House　at　first　light。〃
　〃Sir…〃
　The　windshield　exploded　as　a　bullet　shattered　the　safety　glass。　Smith　threw　himself　across　the　seat　as　two　more　shots　whistled　into　the　sedan。
　
　〃You　said　he　was　dead！〃　Price　screamed。
　〃He　will　be；〃　Richardson　said　grimly。　〃Get　in　the　car。　Sergeant；　you　make　sure　this　time！〃
　Drake　didn't　bother　to　look　back。　He　had　spotted　the　blackedout　sedan　the　instant　he'd　stepped　out　of　the　unit。　Smith's　vehicle　was　parked　in　the　shadows　of　some　Dumpsters；　a　good　call。　But　Smith　had　forgotten　about　the　moon。　Cold　and　bright；　it　washed　the　car's　interior；　illuminating　him　perfectly。　Drake　had　taken　his　first　shot　before　Smith　had　realized　he'd　been　made。　Now　Drake　was　moving　to　make　sure　of　his　kill。
　He　was　fifteen　feet　from　the　car　when　suddenly　the　headlights　snapped　on；　blinding　him。　Drake　heard　the　roar　of　the　engine　and　realized　what　was　happening。　But　even　he　wasn't　fast　enough　to　get　out　of　the　way　in　time。　As　Drake　launched　himself　into　the　air　two　tons　of　cold　metal　smashed　into　him；　catapulting　him　over　the　car。
　Behind　the　wheel；　Smith　straightened　up　and　kept　his　foot　on　the　accelerator。　His　peripheral　vision　registered　dark　shapes　spilling　out　of　the　sedans　forming　the　blockade；　but　that　didn't　stop　him。　He　saw　Richardson　and　Price　jump　into　a　car　and　back　up　fast。　Turning　the　wheel；　he　tried　to　cut　them　off。　For　a　split…second；　he　saw　Richardson's　expression　through　the　window；　then　felt　a　tremendous　jolt　as　the　two　cars　mashed　together　in　a　tangle　of　metal。
　Smith　hung　on　to　the　steering　wheel；　trying　to　push　Richardson's　car　off　to　the　side。　Then　he　looked　up　and　saw　the　two　sedans　at　the　exit。　Spinning　the　wheel；　he　hit　the　brakes　and　went　into　a　controlled　skid。
　Frank　Richardson　felt　his　car　rock　as　Smith's　vehicle　spun　away。　Then　he　too　saw　the　blockade。
　〃Frank！〃　Price　screamed。
　Richardson　slammed　on　the　brakes；　but　too　late。　Just　as　he　threw　his　hands　over　his　face　the　car　smashed　into　the　front　ends　of　the　angled　sedans。　Seconds　later；　a　piece　of　jagged　metal　tore　through　his　throat　as　he　was　hurled　through　the　windshield。
　Smith　leaped　out　of　his　car；　running　hard。　He　got　close　enough　to　see　Richardson's　body　sprawled　across　the　hood　before　a　pair　of　strong　arms　caught　him。
　〃It's　too　late；　sir！〃　a　voice　called　out。
　Smith　struggled　but　was　dragged　back。　A　moment　later；　a　huge　explosion　slammed　him　to　the　ground。
　Gasping　and　coughing；　Smith　struggled　to　breathe。　Lifting　his　head　off　the　asphalt；　he　saw　a　giant　fireball　engulf　the　three　vehicles。　Slowly　he　rolled　away；　oblivious　to　the　shadows　darting　around　him；　the　urgent　voices　calling　to　one　another。　A　pair　of　hands　hauled　him　to　his　feet　and　he　found　himself　looking　at　a　young；　hatchet…faced　man。
　〃You　don't　belong　here；　sir。〃
　〃Who。。。　are　you？〃
　The　man　pressed　a　set　of　keys　into　Smith's　palm。
　〃There's　a　green　Chevy　around　the　corner。　Take　it　and　go。　And；　sir？　Mr。　Klein　said　to　remind　you　about　your　meeting　at　the　White　House。〃
　
　CHAPTER　TWENTY　SEVEN
　　
　Numb　and　exhausted；　Smith　somehow　managed　to　drive　himself　to　Bethesda。　Walking　into　the　house；　he　dropped　his　clothes　on　the　way　to　the　bathroom；　turned　on　the　shower；　and　stood　under　the　hot；　stinging　spray。
　The　pounding　water　drowned　out　the　screams　and　explosions　of　the　night。　But　no　matter　how　hard　he　tried；　Smith　couldn't　erase　the　image　of　Richardson's　car　slamming　into　the　blockade；　the　fireball　erupting；　the　sight　of　Richardson　and　Price；　human　torches。
　Smith　stumbled　into　the　bedroom　and　lay　down　naked　on　the　covers。　Closing　his　eyes；　he　set　his　soldier's　mental　clock　and　let　himself　be　swept　away　into　a　long；　dark　tunnel。　He　felt　himself　floating　end　over　end；　like　an　astronaut　who'd　lost　his　tether　and　was　doomed　to　tumble　endlessly　through　the　cosmos。　Then　he　felt　something　bump　him　and　with　a　start　woke　up　to　discover　that　he　was　clawing　for　the　gun　on　the　night　table。
　Smith　showered　again　and　dressed　quickly。　He　was　heading　for　the　door　when　he　remembered　that　he　hadn't　checked　his　phone　messages　off　the　secure　cell。　Quickly　he　scanned　the　list　and　discovered　a　note　from　Peter　Howell。　Something　was　waiting　for　him　on　his　puter。
　Smith　fired　up　his　machine；　ran　the　encryption　program；　and　downloaded　the　file　Ho