scoonts.theminotaur-第39部分

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of　spouses　and　girlfriends　in　attendance　were　not　on　the　list；　nor　were　the　names　of　at　least　a　dozen　officials　who　had　been　seen　there。　The　fists　of　hotel　and　caterer　personnel　were　also　inaccurate　and　inplete。
　The　upper　echelons　of　the　Soviet　intelligence　munity　were　stymied。　The　first　rule　of　intelligence　gathering…know　your　source…had　been　violated。　Yet　the　information　appeared　genuine　and　revealed　just　how　far　ahead　of　the　Soviets　the　Americans　were　with　stealth　technology。
　Three　months　after　the　ambassador　had　received　the　postcard；　an　unsigned　letter　in　a　plain　white　envelope　arrived　at　the　Soviet　embassy　addressed　to　the　ambassador。　The　letter；　in　neat　dock　letters；　was　a　mentary　on　the　rights　of　minorities　in　the　Soviet　Union。　In　accordance　with　standard　procedure　for　unsolicited　mail；　the　letter　was　sent　to　Moscow。　There　the　code　was　broken。　The　writer　had　constructed　a　matrix　using　the　first　random　word　on　the　original　postcard　as　the　key　word。　The　message　was　three　random　words；　the　first　two　of　which　proved　to　be　puter　access　words。　The　third　word　wasn't　a　word　at　all；　but　a　series　of　numbers　and　letters。　From　the　bowels　of　the　Pentagon；　Terry　Franklin　produced　a　fascinating　document　concerning　the　development　of　a　land…based　anti…satellite　laser　about　which　Soviet　intelligence　had　known　absolutely　nothing。
　Further　letters　followed；　each　encoded　on　the　basis　of　a　key　word　which　appeared　on　the　original　postcard；　the　ambassador's。　The　information　was　golden：　more　stealth。　Trident　missile　updates；　SDI　research　breakthroughs；　laser　optics　for　artillery；　satellite　navigation　systems。。。　the　list　was　breathtaking。　The　Soviets　were　seeing　hard　data　on　America's　most　precious　defense　secrets。　And　they　didn't　know　who　was　giving　it　to　them。　Or　why。
　So　Harlan　Albright　was　told　to　use　Mother　Russia's　most　precious　agent　to　find　out。　And　here　he　sat；　Luis　Camacho；　FBI　special　agent　in　charge；　Washington；　D。C。；　office　of　counterespionage。
　Camacho　hadn't　found　a　sniff。
　Damn；　it　was　frustrating。　And　now　the　Terry　Franklin　tool　to　exploit　the　unknown　source　was　unraveling。
　〃Do　you　believe　in　the　entropy　principle？〃　Camacho　asked。　There　was　a　mercial　on　the　television。
　Albright　shifted　his　gaze　and　tried　to　dear　his　thoughts。　〃Entropy？〃
　〃Disorder　always　increases　in　a　closed　system。〃
　〃I　suppose。〃
　〃Will　Franklin　hold　up？〃
　〃I　don't　know。　I　doubt　it。　And　he　knows　too　much。〃　He　felt　a　chut　as　he　contemplated　the　wrath　of　his　superiors　if　Franklin　should　ever　list　his　thefts　for　the　Americans。
　〃Can　you　get　him　to　the　Soviet　Union？〃　Albright　shrugged　and　stood。　〃I'd　better　go　home　and　get　some　deep。〃
　〃Yeah。〃
　〃Drop　over　tomorrow　evening。〃
　〃Sure。〃
　
　Rita　Moravia's　worst　moment　came　when　she　preceded　Toad　into　his　apartment。　〃I've　only　been　here　a　month　or　so；〃　Toad　said　behind　her。　Open　cardboard　boxes　brimming　with　books　and　towels　and　bric…a…brac　sat　everywhere。　She　stepped　into　the　kitchen。　The　sink　was　full　of　dishes。　Something　hideous　was　growing　in　a　saucepan　on　the　stove。　The　refrigerator　contained　half　a　case　of　beer　and　a　six…pack　of　Coke…nothing　else。　At　least　it　was　clean。　But　how　in　the　world　had　this　man　managed　to　get　all　these　dishes　dirty？　Aha；　the　freezer　was　chock…full　of　frozen　vegetables　and　TV　dinners。　Even　some　meat。
　She　dumped　the　contents　of　the　saucepan　into　the　sink　and　ran　the　pan　full　of　water；　then　let　the　water　from　the　faucet　flush　the　putrid　mixture　past　the　trap。
　Toad　was　fidgety。　〃I'm　not　much　of　a　housekeeper；〃　he　mumbled。　〃Been　trying　to　get　unpacked　and　all　but　I've　been　so　busy。〃
　Rita　went　into　the　bedroom　and　snapped　on　the　lights。　The　bed　was　a　rumpled　mess。　She　ripped　away　the　spread　and　blanket　and　tossed　them　on　the　floor；　then　began　stripping　the　sheets。　〃Get　out　dean　sheets。〃
　〃Uh。。。　y'see；　that's　the　only　set　I　have。　Why　waste　money　on　extra　sheets　when　you　can　only　use　one　set　at　a。。。〃　He　ran　out　of　words　when　she　glanced　at　him　as　she　removed　the　pillows　from　their　cases。　〃Why　don't　I　take　the　sheets　and　pillowcases　down　to　the　basement　and　run　them　through　the　washer。〃　He　grabbed　them　from　the　floor　where　Rita　had　thrown　them　and　charged　for　the　door。　It　closed　behind　him　with　a　bang。　Rita　Moravia　smiled　and　shook　her　head。
　She　tackled　the　bedroom　first。　Dirty　clothes　were　piled　in　one　corner　of　the　closet。　She　used　a　T…shirt　for　a　dustrag。　No　cleanser　in　the　bathroom。　He　had　never　cleaned　the　mode。　She　was　swabbing　it　when　she　heard　the　apartment　door　open。　In　seconds　he　appeared。
　〃Hey；　Rita；　you　don't…〃
　〃Is　there　a　convenience　store　nearby　that's　still　open？〃
　〃I　suppose。。。〃
　〃I　want　cleanser；　dishwashing　liquid；　something　to　clean　these　floors　with。。。　a　mop　and　some　sponges。　And　an　air　freshener。〃
　〃Tomorrow　I…〃
　〃Now；　Tarkington。〃
　He　turned　and　left　without　a　word。
　In　twenty　minutes　he　was　back　with　a　bag　full　of　supplies。　She　handed　him　the　laundry　from　the　closet。　〃You　go　wash　these　and　then　clean　up　the　living　room　and　kitchen。〃
　When　she　got　the　sheets　back　on　the　bed　she　locked　the　bedroom　door。　Toad　was　making　noises　in　the　kitchen。　She　washed　her　face；　brushed　her　teeth　and　hung　up　her　clothes　from　the　overnight　bag。　She　put　on　a　frilly　negligee　Harriet　had　given　her　for　Christmas　when　it　looked　as　if　her　anemic　romance　with　Ogden　might　finally　blossom。
　Poor　Ogden。　His　town　house　always　looked　as　if　the　maid　just　left　five　minutes　before　you　arrived。　Appearances　were　so　important　to　him。　He　would　be　devastated　if　he　could　see　her　in　this　slum。　Oh　well。　Toad　had　something　that　Ogden　would　never　have。　She　thought　about　it　as　she　brushed　out　her　hair　again。　Tarkington　had　guts　as　well　as　brains；　and　he　knew　what　was　important　and　what　wasn't。　He　believed　in　himself　and　his　abilities　with　a　profound；　unshakable　faith；　so　he　wasn't　threatened　by　what　she　was；　what　she　acplished。　Any　way　you　looked　at　it。　Toad　Tarkington　was　a　man。
　And　a　man　was　precisely　what　Rita　Moravia　wanted　in　her　life。
　She　turned　off　all　the　lights　except　the　one　on　the　nightstand；　then　opened　the　bedroom　door。
　Toad　was　up　to　his　elbows　in　soapsuds　in　the　sink。　He　had　used　too　much　dishwashing　liquid。　Too　much　water　too。　Water　and　suds　were　slopped　over　half　the　counter。　Damn。　He　shouldn't　have　brought　Rita　here　with　the　apartment　in　such　a　mess。　He　had　been　meaning　to　unpack　and　clean　it　up；　but　the　chore　always　seemed　one　that　could　wait。　He　had　been　seeing　that　secretary　over　in　Alexandria　but　they　always　went　to　her　place。　It　just　hadn't　occurred　to　him　how　Rita　might　react　until　it　was　too　late…like　when　he　was　fishing　for　the　key　to　open　the　door。
　Doggone；　Toad；　you　find　a　really　nice　girl　for　a　change　and　you　screw　it　up　right　at　the　start。　More　water　slopped　over　the　edge　of　the　sink。　He　felt　it　soaking　the　front　of　his　pants。　Oh　poop。
　He　heard　a　laugh　and　turned。　Rita　was　standing　in　the　kitchen　door　laughing　with　her　hand　over　her　mouth。　He　grinned　at　her　and　worked　blindly　on　the　dishes。　He　couldn't　take　his　eyes　off　her。
　〃You　used　too　much　water；〃　she　said。
　〃Uh…huh。〃　With　her　hair　down　around　her　shoulders　she　looked　like　a　pletely　different　woman…softer；　more　feminine。　And　that　fully　little　nothing　she　was　wearing！
　〃Do　you　have　any　dish　towels？〃
　〃Of　course　I　have…〃
　〃Where？〃
　〃Where？〃　He　forced　his　eyes　to　look　at　the　likely　places　while　he　considered。　〃Oh　yeah；　in　that　box　over　there　behind　the　table。〃
　She　swabbed　the　counter　while　he　hurriedly　finished　the　dishes　and　stacked　them　in　the　drainer。　He　pulled　the　plug　in　the　sink　and　she　wiped　his　hands　and　arms。
　〃I'm　sorry　this　place　is　such　a　mess。　I…〃
　She　put　her　arms　around　his　neck　and　kissed　him。　He　never　did　get　to　finish　that　apology。
　〃What's　your　first　name？〃
　〃Robert。〃
　〃Why　do　they　call　you　Toad？〃
　〃Because　I'm　horny　all　the　time。〃
　〃Umm；〃　Rita　Moravia　said。　〃Oh　yes；　I　see。　Lucky　me。〃
　
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　〃We　got　something；〃　Dreyfus　said　with　a　grin　as　he　leaned　in　Luis　Camacho's　office　door…
　〃Well；　don't　keep　me　waiting。〃
　After　entering　and　closing　the　door；　Dreyfus　approached　the　desk　and　handed　Camacho　a　photocopy　of　the　message　from　the　cigarette　pack　that　Mrs。　Jackson　had　supplied。　〃Interest　Golden。TS