mreilly.icestation-第66部分

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　A　few　minutes　later；　Renshaw　pulled　him　out　of　the　water　and　dragged　him　up　onto　the　iceberg。　
　Schofield　dropped　down　onto　the　ice…breathing　hard；　soaking　wet；　freezing　cold。　He　was　gasping　for　breath；　his　body　overwhelmed　with　fatigue；　and　at　that　moment…with　the　French　submarine　destroyed　and　himself　and　Renshaw　hopelessly　marooned　on　an　iceberg…the　only　thing　in　the　world　that　Shane　Schofield　wanted　to　do　was　sleep。　
　
　
　
　In　the　Capitol　Building　in　Washington；　D。C。；　the　NATO　conference　reconvened。　
　George　Holmes；　the　U。S。　representative；　leaned　back　in　his　chair　as　he　watched　Pierre　Dufresne；　the　head　of　the　French　delegation；　stand　to　speak。　
　〃My　fellow　delegates；　ladies　and　gentlemen；〃　Dufresne　began；　〃the　Republic　of　France　would　like　to　express　its　total　aid　unconditional　support　for　the　North　Atlantic　Treaty　Organization；　this　fine　organization　of　nations　that　has　served　the　West　so　well　for　almost　fifty　years　。。。〃　
　The　speech　dragged　on；　extolling　the　virtues　of　NATO　and　fiance's　undying　loyalty　to　it。　George　Holmes　shook　his　head。　All　morning；　the　French　delegation　had　been　calling　recesses；　stalling　the　conference；　and　now；　all　of　a　sudden；　they　were　pledging　their　undying　loyalty　to　the　organization。　It　didn't　make　sense。　
　Dufresne；　finished　speaking；　sat　down。　Holmes　was　about　to　turn　and　say　something　to　Phil　Munro　when　suddenly　the　British　delegate　to　the　conference…a　well…groomed　statesman　named　Richard　Royce…pushed　his　chair　back　and　stood　up。　〃Ladies　and　gentlemen；〃　Royce　said　in　a　very　articulate　London　accent；　〃if　I　may　beg　your　indulgence；　the　British　delegation　requests　a　recess。〃　
　
　At　that　very　same　moment；　directly　across　the　road　from　the　Capitol　Building　and　the　NATO　conference；　Alison　Cameron　was　entering　the　atrium　of　the　Library　of　Congress。　prised　of　three　buildings；　the　Library　of　Congress　is　the　largest　library　in　the　world。　In　fact；　its　goal　upon　its　founding　was　to　be　the　single　largest　repository　of　knowledge　in　the　world。　That　is　what　it　is。　
　Which　was　why　Alison　was　not　surprised　to　learn　that　the　object　of　her　search…the　mysterious　1978　〃Preliminary　Survey〃　by　C。　M。　Waitzkin…was　to　be　found　at　the　Library　of　Congress。　If　any　library　was　going　to　have　it；　the　Library　of　Congress　would　be　it。　
　Alison　waited　at　the　Inquiries　Desk　as　one　of　the　library's　attendants　went　down　to　the　stack　to　get　the　survey　for　her。　The　Library　of　Congress　was　a　closed…stack　library；　which　meant　that　the　staff　got　the　books　for　you。　It　was　also　a　non…circulating　library；　which　meant　that　you　were　not　allowed　to　take　books　out　of　the　building。　
　The　attendant　was　taking　a　while；　so　Alison　began　to　browse　through　another　book　she　had　bought　on　the　way　to　the　library。　
　She　looked　at　the　cover。　It　read：　
　
　THE　ICE　CRUSADE：　
　REFLECTIONS　ON　A　YEAR　SPENT　IN　
　ANTARCTICA　
　DR。　BRIAN　HENSLEIGH　
　Professor　in　Geophysics；　Harvard　University　
　
　Alison　scanned　the　introduction。　
　Brian　Hensleigh；　it　appeared；　was　the　head　of　Harvard　University's　geophysics　faculty。　He　was　into　ice　core　research…a　study　that　involved　extracting　cylindrical　ice　cores　from　the　continental　ice　shelves　in　Antarctica　and　then　examining　the　air　that　had　been　trapped　inside　those　ice　cores　thousands　of　years　before。　
　Apparently；　so　the　book　said；　ice　core　research　could　be　used　to　explain　global　warming；　the　greenhouse　effect；　and　the　depletion　of　the　ozone　layer。　
　In　any　case；　it　appeared　that　for　the　whole　of　1994　this　Hensleigh　fellow　had　worked　at　a　remote　research　station　in　Antarctica　collecting　ice　core　samples。　
　The　name　of　that　research　station　was　Wilkes　Ice　Station。　
　And　its　location：　latitude　minus　66。5　degrees；　longitude　115　degrees；　20　minutes；　and　12　seconds　east。　
　At　that　moment；　the　attendant　returned　and　Alison　looked　up　from　the　book。　
　〃It's　not　there；〃　the　attendant　said；　shaking　her　head。　
　〃What？〃　
　〃I　checked　it　three　times；〃　the　attendant　said。　〃It's　not　on　the　shelf。　'Preliminary　Survey'　by　C。　M。　Waitzkin；　1978。　It's　not　there。〃　
　Alison　frowned。　This　was　unexpected。　
　The　attendant…her　name　badge　said　her　name　was　Cindy…　shrugged　helplessly。　〃I　don't　understand　it。　It's　just。。。　gone。〃　
　Alison　felt　a　sudden　rush　of　excitement　as　something　occurred　to　her。　
　〃If　it's　not　there；　wouldn't　that　mean　that　someone　is　reading　it　right　now？〃　she　asked。　
　Cindy　shook　her　head。　〃No；　the　puter　says　that　the　last　time　it　was　loaned　out　to　anybody　was　in　November　1979。〃　
　〃November　1979；〃　Alison　said。　
　〃Yeah；　spooky；　huh？〃　Cindy　looked　about　twenty　years　old；　a　college　student　no　doubt。　〃I　got　the　name　of　the　borrower　if　you're　interested。　Here。〃　She　handed　Alison　a　slip　of　paper。　
　It　was　a　photocopy　of　a　Request　Form；　similar　to　the　one　Alison　herself　had　filled　out　to　get　the　survey。　
　The　Library　of　Congress　obviously　kept　every　form　on　file…probably　for　exactly　this　situation。　
　On　the　Request　Form；　in　the　box　marked　〃Name　of　Person　Requesting　Item；〃　was　a　name：　
　O。　NIEMEYER　
　〃It　happens；〃　Cindy　the　attendant　was　saying。　〃This　Niemeyer　guy　probably　liked　it　so　much　that　he　just　walked　out　with　it。　We　didn't　have　magnetic　tags　on　our　books　back　then；　so　he　probably　just　slipped　out　past　the　guards。〃　
　Alison　ignored　her。　
　She　just　stood　there；　entranced　by　the　Request　Form　in　her　hand；　by　this　twenty…year…old　piece　of　evidence　that　had　been　sitting　in　a　filing　cabinet　somewhere　in　the　depths　of　the　Library　of　Congress；　waiting　for　this　day。　
　Alison's　eyes　glowed　as　they　stared　at　the　words：　
　O。　NIEMEYER　
　
　
　
　Brigadier　General　Trevor　Barnaby　walked　across　the　pool　deck　of　Wilkes　Ice　Station。　He'd　been　in　control　of　Wilkes　Ice　Station　for　a　little　over　an　hour　now；　and　he　was　feeling　confident。　
　Only　twenty　minutes　ago　he　had　sent　a　team　of　fully　armed　divers　down　in　the　station's　diving　bell。　But　it　would　be　at　least　ninety　minutes　before　they　reached　the　underground　cave。　Indeed；　the　diving　bell's　cable　was　still　plunging　into　the　pool　at　the　base　of　the　station　right　now。　
　Barnaby　himself　was　dressed　in　a　black　thermal　wet　suit。　He　planned　to　go　down　to　the　underground　cave　with　the　second　team…to　see　for　himself　what　was　really　down　there。　
　〃Well　now；〃　he　said　as　he　saw　Snake　and　the　two　French　scientists　handcuffed　to　the　pole。　〃What　have　we　here？　Why；　if　it　isn't　Sergeant　Kaplan。〃　By　the　look　on　his　face；　Snake　was　obviously　surprised　that　Barnaby　knew　who　he　was。　
　〃Gunnery　Sergeant　Scott　Michael　Kaplan；〃　Barnaby　said。　〃Born：　Dallas；　1953；　enlisted　in　the　United　States　Marine　Corps　at　age　eighteen　in　1971；　small　arms　expert；　hand…to…hand　bat　expert；　sniper。　And　as　of　1992；　under　suspicion　by　British　Intelligence　as　a　member　of　the　American　spy　agency　known　as　the　Intelligence　Convergence　Group。　
　〃I'm　sorry；　what　is　it　that　they　call　you？　Snake；　isn't　it。　Tell　me；　Snake；　is　this　a　mon　occurrence　for　you？　Does　your　manding　officer　often　chain　you　to　poles；　leaving　you　at　the　mercy　of　the　ining　enemy？〃　
　Snake　didn't　say　anything。　
　Barnaby　said；　〃I　would　hardly　have　thought　that　Shane　Schofield　would　be　the　kind　of　master　to　chain　up　his　loyal　squad　members。　Which　means　there　must　be　some　other　reason　why　he　chained　you　up；　n'est…ce　pas？〃　Barnaby　smiled。　〃Now；　whatever　could　that　reason　be？〃　
　Snake　still　said　nothing。　Every　now　and　then；　his　eyes　would　steal　a　look　at　the　diving　bell's　cable　as　it　plunged　into　the　pool　behind　Barnaby。　
　Barnaby　turned　his　attention　to　the　two　French　scientists。　〃And　who　might　you　be？〃　he　asked。　
　Luc　Champion　blurted　out　indignantly；　〃We　are　French　scientists　from　the　research　station　Dumont　d'Urville。　We　have　been　detained　here　against　our　will　by　American　forces。　We　demand　that　we　be　released　in　accordance　with　international…〃　
　〃Mr。　Nero；〃　Barnaby　said　flatly。　
　A　mountain　of　a　man　stepped　out　from　behind　Barnaby　and　stood　next　to　him。　He　was　at　least　six…foot…five；　with　broad　shoulders　and　impassive　eyes。　He　had　a　scar　that　ran　down　from　the　corner　of　his　mouth　to　his　chin。　
　Barnaby　said；　〃Mr。　Nero；　if　you　please。〃　
　The　big　man　named　Nero　calinly　raised　his　pistol　and　fired　at　Champion　from　point…blank　range。　
　Champion's　head　exp