tc.patriotgames-第39章

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　can't　be　pletely　unreasoned　action；　he　reminded　himself。　They　can't　be　acting　pletely　without　reason　and　still　be　as　effective　as　they've　been。
　　　　〃Damn！〃　The　answer　was　there。　Murray　could　feel　it　floating　at　the　edge　of　his　consciousness；　but　his　mind　couldn't　quite　reach　that　far。　The　agent　left　his　office。　Two　Marines　were　already　patrolling　the　corridors；　checking　that　the　doors　were　locked。　Dan　waved　to　them　on　the　way　to　the　elevator；　his　mind　still　trying　to　assemble　the　pieces　into　a　unified　picture。　He　wished　that　Owens　hadn't　left　so　soon。　He　wanted　to　talk　this　one　over　with　Jimmy。　Maybe　the　two　of　them　could　make　sense　of　it　all。　No；　he　told　himself；　not　〃maybe。〃　They'd　find　it。　It　was　there；　waiting　to　be　found。
　　　　I　bet　Miller　knew；　Murray　thought。

　　　　〃What　a　dreadful　place；〃　Sean　Miller　said。　The　sunset　was　magnificent；　almost　like　one　at　sea。　The　sky　was　clear　of　the　usual　urban　pollution；　and　the　distant　dunes　gave　a　crisp；　if　crenelated；　line　for　the　sun　to　slide　behind。　The　odd　thing　was　the　temperature　range；　of　course。　The　noon　temperature　had　reached　ninety…two　　and　the　locals　thought　of　this　as　a　cool　day！　　but　now　as　the　sun　sank；　a　cool　wind　came　up；　and　soon　the　temperature　would　drop　to　freezing。　The　sand　couldn't　hold　the　heat；　and　with　the　clear；　dry　air；　it　would　just　radiate　away；　back　to　the　stars。
　　　　Miller　was　tired。　It　had　been　that　sort　of　day：　refresher　training。　He　hadn't　touched　a　weapon　in　nearly　two　months。　His　reactions　were　off；　his　marksmanship　abysmal；　his　physical　condition　little　better。　He'd　actually　gained　a　few　pounds　on　prison　food；　something　that　had　e　as　quite　a　surprise。　In　a　week　he'd　have　that　run　off。　The　desert　was　good　for　that。　Like　most　men　born　in　the　higher　latitudes。　Miller　had　trouble　tolerating　this　sort　of　climate。　His　physical　activity　made　him　thirsty；　but　he　found　it　difficult　to　eat　when　it　was　so　hot。　So　he　drank　water　and　allowed　his　body　to　turn　in　on　itself。　He'd　lose　the　weight　and　harden　his　body　more　quickly　here　than　anywhere　else。　But　that　didn't　make　him　like　the　place。
　　　　Four　more　of　their　men　were　here　also；　but　the　remainder　of　the　rescue　force　had　immediately　flown　home　via　Rome　and　Brussels；　putting　a　new　string　of　entry　stamps　on　their　〃travel〃　passports。
　　　　〃It's　not　Ireland；〃　O'Donnell　agreed。　His　nose　crinkled　at　the　smell　of　dust；　and　his　own　sweat。　Not　like　home。　No　smell　of　the　mist　over　the　peat；　or　coke　fires　on　the　hearths；　or　the　alcoholic　ambience　of　the　local　pub。
　　　　That　was　an　annoying　development：　no　liquor。　The　locals　had　got　another　attack　of　Allah　and　decided　that　even　the　fellow　members　of　the　international　revolutionary　munity　could　not　break　God's　law。　What　a　bloody　nuisance。
　　　　It　wasn't　much　of　a　camp。　Six　buildings；　one　of　them　a　garage。　An　unused　helicopter　pad；　a　road　half…covered　with　sand　from　the　last　storm。　One　deep　well　for　water。　A　firing　range。　Nothing　else。　In　the　past　as　many　as　fifty　people　had　cycled　through　here　at　a　time。　Not　now。　This　was　the　ULA's　own　camp；　well　separated　from　camps　used　by　other　groups。　Every　one　of　them　had　learned　the　importance　of　security。　On　a　blackboard　in　hut　#l　was　a　schedule　provided　by　other　fair…skinned　friends　that　gave　the　pass…over　times　for　American　reconnaissance　satellites；　everyone　knew　when　to　be　out　of　sight；　and　the　camp's　vehicles　were　under　cover。
　　　　Two　headlights　appeared　on　the　horizon；　heading　south　toward　the　camp。　O'Donnell　noted　their　appearance；　but　said　nothing　about　it。　The　horizon　was　far　away。　He　put　his　arms　into　the　sleeves　of　his　jacket　to　ward　off　the　gathering　chill　as　he　watched　the　lights　slide　left　and　right；　their　conical　beams　tracing　over　the　dunes。　The　driver　was　taking　his　time；　Kevin　saw。　The　lights　weren't　bouncing　about。　The　climate　made　it　hard　for　a　man　to　push　himself　hard。　Things　would　get　done　tomorrow；　God　willing。　Insh'Allah；　a　Latin　colleague　had　once　told　him；　meant　the　same　thing　as　manana　　but　without　the　urgency。
　　　　The　vehicle　was　a　Toyota　Land　Cruiser；　the　four…wheel…drive　that　had　replaced　the　Land…Rover　in　most　places。　The　driver　took　it　right　into　the　garage　before　getting　out。　O'Donnell　checked　his　watch。　The　next　satellite　pass　was　in　thirty　minutes。　Close　enough。　He　rose　and　walked　into　hut　#3。　Miller　followed；　waving　to　the　man　who'd　just　e　into　the　camp。　A　uniformed　soldier　from　the　camp's　permanent　force　closed　the　garage　door；　and　otherwise　ignored　them。
　　　　〃Glad　to　see　you　got　out；　Sean；〃　the　visitor　said。　He　carried　a　small　satchel。
　　　　〃Thank　you；　Shamus。〃
　　　　O'Donnell　held　open　the　door。　He　was　not　one　to　stand　on　ceremony。
　　　　〃Thank　you；　Kevin。〃　
　　　　〃You're　just　in　time　for　dinner；〃　the　chief　of　the　ULA　said。
　　　　〃Well；　one　can't　always　be　lucky；〃　Shamus　Padraig　Connolly　said。　He　looked　around　the　inside　of　the　hut。　〃No　wogs　about？〃　
　　　　〃Not　in　here。〃　O'Donnell　assured　him。
　　　　〃Good。〃　Connolly　opened　his　satchel　and　brought　out　two　bottles。　〃I　thought　you　might　like　a　drop　of　the　pure。〃　
　　　　〃How　did　you　get　it　past　the　bastards？〃　Miller　asked。
　　　　〃I　heard　about　the　new　rule。　I　told　them　I　was　bringing　in　a　gun；　of　course。〃　Everyone　laughed　as　Miller　fetched　three　glasses　and　ice。　You　always　used　ice　in　this　place。
　　　　〃When　are　you　supposed　to　arrive　at　the　camp？〃　O'Donnell　referred　to　the　one　forty　miles　away　used　by　the　PIRA。
　　　　〃I'm　having　some　car　trouble；　and　staying　the　night　with　our　uniformed　friends。　The　bad　news　is　that　they've　confiscated　my　whiskey。〃
　　　　〃Bloody　heathens！〃　Miller　laughed。　The　three　men　toasted　one　another。
　　　　〃How　was　it　inside；　Sean？〃　Connolly　asked。　The　first　round　of　drinks　was　already　gone。
　　　　〃Could　have　been　worse。　A　week　before　Kevin　came　for　me；　I　had　a　bad　time　with　some　thugs　　the　peelers　put　them　up　to　it；　of　course；　and　they　had　a　merry　time。　Bloody　faggots。　Aside　from　that；　ah；　it　is　so　entertaining　to　sit　there　and　watch　them　talk　and　talk　and　talk　like　a　bunch　of　old　women。〃
　　　　〃You　didn't　think　that　Sean　would　talk；　did　you？〃　O'Donnell　asked　reprovingly。　The　smile　covered　his　feelings　　of　course　they　had　all　worried　about　that；　they　had　worried　most　of　all　what　might　happen　when　the　PIRA　and　INLA　lads　in　Parkhurst　Prison　got　hold　of　him。
　　　　〃Good　lad！〃　Connolly　refilled　the　glasses。　
　　　　〃So；　what's　the　news　from　Belfast？〃　the　chief　asked。
　　　　〃Johnny　Doyle　is　not　very　pleased　with　having　lost　Maureen。　The　men　are　being　restless　　not　much；　mind；　but　there　is　talk。　Your　op　in　London；　Sean；　in　case　you've　not　been　told；　had　glasses　filled　and　raised　throughout　the　Six　Counties。〃　That　most　citizens　in　Northern　Ireland；　Protestant　and　Catholic；　had　been　disgusted　by　the　operation　mattered　not　to　Connolly。　His　small　munity　of　revolutionaries　was　the　entire　world。
　　　　〃One　does　not　get　drunk　for　a　failure；〃　Miller　observed　sourly。　That　bastard　Ryan！
　　　　〃But　it　was　a　splendid　attempt。　It　is　clear　enough　that　you　were　unlucky；　no　more　than　that；　and　we　are　all　slaves　to　fortune。〃　
　　　　O'Donnell　frowned。　His　guest　was　too　poetic　for　Kevin's　way　of　thinking；　despite　the　fact；　as　Connolly　was　fond　of　pointing　out；　that　Mao　himself　had　written　poetry。
　　　　〃Will　they　try　to　spring　Maureen？〃
　　　　Connolly　laughed　at　that　one。　〃After　what　you　did　with　Sean　here？　Not　bloody　likely。　How　ever　did　you　pull　that　off；　Kevin？〃　
　　　　〃There　are　ways。〃　O'Donnell　let　it　go　at　that。　His　intelligence　source　was　under　strict　orders　not　to　do　a　thing　for　two　months。　Dennis's　bookstore　was　closed　so　far　as　he　was　concerned。　The　decision　to　use　him　to　get　information　for　the　rescue　operation　hadn't　e　easy。　That　was　the　problem　with　good　intelligence；　his　teachers　had　hammered　into　his　head　years　before。　The　really　valuable　stuff　was　always　a　risk　to　the　source　itself。　It　was　a　paradox。　The　most　useful　material　was　often　too　dangerous　to　use；　but　at　the　same　time　intelligence　information　that　could　not　be　used　had　no　value　at　all。
　　　　〃Well；　you've　gotten　everyone's　attention。　The　reason　I'm　here　is　to　brief　our　lads　on　your　operation。〃
　　　　〃Really！〃　Kevin　laughed。　〃And　what　does　Mr。　Doyle　think　of　us？〃
　　　　The　visitor　crooked　a　ically　accusing　finger。　〃You　are　a　counterrevolutionary　influence　whose　objective　is　to　wreck　the　movement。　The　op　on　The　Mall　has　had　serious　repercussions　on　the　other　side　of　the　Atlantic。　We'll　　excuse　me；　they'll　be　sending　some　of　their　chaps　to　Boston　in　another　month　or　so　to　set　things　right；　to　tell　the　Yanks　that　they　had　nothing　to　do　with　it；〃　Connolly　said。
　　　　〃Money　　we　don't　need　their　bloody　money！〃　Miller　objected。　〃And　they　can　put　their　'moral　support'　up　〃　
　　　　〃Mustn't　offend　the　Americans；〃　Connolly　pointed　out。
　　　　O'Donnell　raised　his　glass　for　a　toast：　〃The　devil　with　the　bloody　Americans。〃
　　　　As　he　drank　off　the　last　of　his　second　whiskey。　Miller's　eyes　snapped　open　sharply　enough　to　make　a　click。
　　　　〃Kevin；　we　won't　be　doing　much　in　the　U。K。　for　a　while　。　。　。　〃
　　　　〃Nor　in　the　Six　Counties；〃　O'Donnell　said　thoughtfully。　〃This　is　a　time　to　lie　low；　I　think。　We'll　concentrate　on　our　training　for　the　moment　and　await　our　next　opportunity。〃　
　　　　〃Shamus；　how　effective　might　Doyle's　men　be　in　Boston？〃　
　　　　Connolly　shrugged　his　shoulders。　〃Get　enough　liquor　into　them　and　they'll　believe　anything　they're　told；　and　toss　their　dollars　into　the　hat　as　always。〃
　　　　Miller　smiled　for　a　moment。　He　refilled　his　own　glass　this　time　as　the　other　two　talked　on。　His　own　mind　began　assembling　a　plan。

　　　　Murray　had　had　a　number　of　assignments　in　the　Bureau　over　his　many　years　of　service；　ranging　from　junior　agent　involved　in　chasing　down　bank　robbers　to　instructor　in　investigation　procedures　at　the　FBI　Academy　at　Quantico；　Virginia。　One　thing　he'd　always　told　the　youngsters　in　the　classroom　was　the　importance　of　intuition。　Law　enforcement　was　still　as　much　art　as　science。　The　Bureau　had　immense　scientific　resources　to　process　evidence；　had　written　procedures　for　everything；　but　when　you　got　down　to　it；　there　was　never　a　substitute　for　the　mind　of　an　experienced　agent。　It　was　mostly　experience；　Murray　knew；　the　way　you　fitted　evidence　together；　the　way　you　got　a　feel　for　the　mind　of　your　target　and　tried　to　predict　his　next　move。　But　more　than　experience；　there　was　intuition。　The　two　qualities　worked　together　until　you　couldn't　separate　them　in　your　own　mind。
　　　　That's　the　hard　part；　Murray　told　himself　on　the　drive　home　from　the　embassy。　Because　intuition　can　run　a　little　wild　if　there's　not　enough　evidence　to　hold　on　to。
　　　　〃You　will　learn　to　trust　your　instincts；〃　Murray　told　the　traffic；　quoting　from　his　memorized　class　notes。　〃Instinct　is　never　a　substitute　for　evidence　and　procedure；　but　it　can　be　a　very　useful　tool　in　adapting　one　to　another　　oh；　Dan；　you　would　have　made　a　hell　of　a　Jesuit。〃　He　chuckled　to　himself；　oblivious　of　the　stare　he　was　getting　from　the　car　on　his　right。
　　　　If　it's　so　damned　funny；　why　does　it　bother　you？
　　　　Murray's　instinct　was　ringing　a　quiet　but　persistent　bell。　Why　had　Jimmy　said　that？　Obviously　it　was　bothering　him；　too　　but　what　the　hell　was　it？
　　　　The　problem　was；　it　wasn't　just　one　thing。　He　saw　that　now。　It　was　several　things；　and　they　were　interrelated　like　some　kind　of　three…dimensional　crossword　puzzle。　He　didn't　know　the　number　of　blanks；　and　he