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小说: tc.patriotgames 字数: 每页4000字

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l operations were things the PIRA had already looked at and set aside for one reason or another。 That's why the Brits thought they were actually part of the PIRA to begin with; Marty。〃 
    〃You said you didn't find anything important;〃 Cantor said。 〃This sounds like pretty sharp analysis to me。〃
    〃Maybe。 All I did was reorder stuff you already had。 Nothing new is in here; and I still haven't answered my own question。 I don't have much of an idea what they're really up to。〃 Ryan's hand flipped through the pages of manuscript。 His voice showed his frustration。 Jack was not accustomed to failure。 〃We still don't know where these bastards are ing from。 They're up to something; but damned if I know what it is。〃 
    〃American connections?〃
    〃None  none at all that we know of。 That makes me feel a lot better。 There's no hint of a contact with American organizations; and lots of reasons for them not to have any。 O'Donnell is too slick to play with his old PIRA contacts。〃 
    〃But his recruiting 〃 Cantor objected。 Jack cut him off。
    〃Over here; I mean。 As chief of internal security; he could know who was who in Belfast and Londonderry。 But the American connections to the Provisionals all run through Sinn Fein; the Proves' political wing。 He'd have to be crazy to trust them。 Remember; he did his best to restructure the political leanings in the outfit and failed。〃
    〃Okay。 I see what you mean。 Possible connections with other groups?〃
    Ryan shook his head。 〃No evidence。 I wouldn't bet against contact with some of the European groups; maybe some of the Islamic ones even; but not over here。 O'Donnell's a smart cookie。 To e over here means too many plications  hey; they don't like me; I can dig that。 The good news is that the FBI's right。 We're dealing with professionals。 I am not a politically significant target。 ing after me has no political value; and these are political animals;〃 Jack observed confidently。 〃Thank God。〃
    〃Did you know that the PIRA  well; Sinn Fein  has a delegation ing over day after tomorrow?〃 
    〃What for?〃
    〃The thing in London hurt them in Boston and New York。 They've denied involvement about a hundred times; and they have a bunch ing over for a couple of weeks to tell the local Irish munities in person。〃
    〃Aw; crap!〃 Ryan snarled。 〃Why not keep the bastards out of the friggin' country?〃
    〃Not that easy。 The people ing over aren't on the Watch List。 They've been here before。 They're clean; technically。 We live in a free democracy。 Jack。 Remember what Oliver Wendell Holmes said: the Constitution was written for people of fundamentally differing views  or something like that。 The short name is Freedom of Speech。〃
    Ryan had to smile。 The outside view of the Central Intelligence Agency people was often one of bumbling fascists; threats to American freedom; corrupt but inpetent schemers; a cross between the Mafia and the Marx brothers。 In fact; Ryan had found them to be politically moderate  more so than he was。 If the truth ever got out; of course; the press would think it was a sinister ruse。 Even he found it very odd。
    〃I hope somebody will keep an eye on them;〃 Jack observed。
    〃The FBI will have people in every bar; swilling their John Jameson and singing 'The Men Behind the Wire。' And keeping an eye on everything。 The Bureau's pretty good at that。 They've just about ended the gun…running。 The word's gotten out on that  must be a half…dozen people who got sent up the river for sending guns and explosives over。〃
    〃Fine。 So now the bad guys use Kalashnikovs; or Armalites made in Singapore。〃 
    〃That;〃 Cantor said; 〃is not our responsibility。〃 
    〃Well; this here's all that I was able to e up with; Marty。 Unless there's other data around; that's all I can give you。〃 Jack tossed the report in Cantor's lap。
    〃I'll read this over and get back to you。 Back to teaching history?〃
    〃Yep。〃 Ryan stood and got his coat from the back of the chair。 He paused。 〃What if something about these guys turns up in a different place?〃 
    〃This is the only partment you can see。 Jack 〃 
    〃I know that。 What I'm asking is; the way this place is set up; how do you connect things from different partments?〃 
    〃That's why we have supervisory oversight teams; and puters;〃 Cantor answered。 Not that the system always works 。 。 。 
    〃If anything new turns up 〃
    〃It's flagged;〃 Cantor said。 〃Both here and at the FBI。 If we get any sort of twitch on these fellows; you'll be warned the day we get it。〃
    〃Fair enough。〃 Ryan made sure his pass was hanging in plain view before going out into the corridor。 〃Thanks  and please thank the Admiral for me。 You guys didn't have to do this。 I wouldn't feel this good if somebody else had told me what I saw for myself。 I owe you。〃 
    〃You'll be hearing from us;〃 Cantor promised him。
    Ryan nodded and went out the door。 He'd be hearing from them; all right。 They'd make the offer again; and he'd turn it down again  with the greatest reluctance; of course。 He'd gone out of his way to be humble and polite with Cantor。 In truth; he thought his sixty…page report did a pretty good job of organizing what data they did have on the ULA。 That squared matters。 He didn't really think he owed anybody。

    Caroline Muller Ryan; MD; FACS; lived a very controlled and structured life。 She liked it that way。 In surgery she always worked with the same team of doctors; nurses; and technicians。 They knew how she liked to work; how she liked her instruments arranged。 Most surgeons had their peculiarities; and the ophthalmic specialists were unusually fastidious。 Her team tolerated it because she was one of the best technical surgeons of her age group and also one of the easiest to like。 She rarely had problems with her temper; and got along well with her nurses  something that female doctors often had trouble with。 Her current problem was her pregnancy; which forced her to limit her exposure to certain operating…room chemicals。 Her swelling abdomen was beginning to alter her stance at the table  actually eye surgeons usually sit; but the principle was the same。 Cathy Ryan had to reach a little farther now; and joked about it constantly。
    These traits carried over to her personal life also。 She drove her Porsche with mechanistic precision; always shifting the gears at exactly the right RPM setting; taking corners on a line as regular as a Formula One driver's。 Doing things the same way every time wasn't a rut for Cathy Ryan; it was perfection。 She played the piano that way also。 Sissy Jackson; who played and taught professionally; had once remarked that her playing was too perfect; lacking in soul。 Cathy took that as a pliment。 Surgeons don't autograph their work; they do it the right way; every time。
    Which was why she was annoyed with life at the moment。 It was a minor annoyance having to take a slightly different route to work every day  in fact it was something of a challenge; since she gave herself the goal of not allowing it to affect her schedule。 Driving to and from work never took more than fifty…seven minutes; nor less than forty…nine (unless she came in on a weekend; when different traffic rules applied)。 She always picked up Sally at exactly quarter to five。 Taking new routes; mainly inside Baltimore; threatened to change this segment of her life; but there weren't many driving problems that a Porsche 911 couldn't solve。
    Her route this day was down state Route 3; then across a secondary road。 That brought her out onto Ritchie Highway; six miles above the Giant Steps Nursery School。 She caught the light just right and took the turn in second gear; working quickly up to third; then fourth。 The feline growl of the six…cylinder engine reached through the sound insulation as a gentle purr。 Cathy Ryan loved her Porsche。 She'd never driven anything else until after she was married  a station wagon was useful for shopping and family drives; unfortunately  and wondered what she'd do when her second child arrived。 That; she sighed; would be a problem。 It depended on where the sitter was; she decided。 Or maybe she could finally convince Jack to get a nanny。 Her husband was a little too working…class in that respect。 He'd resisted the

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