cc.goldenbuddha-第13部分

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　〃Mr。　Spenser；〃　he　said；　〃you've　e　for　your　crate。〃　
　〃Yes；〃　Spenser　said。　
　The　monk　rang　a　bell　and　two　more　monks　appeared　from　another　room。　
　〃Mr。　Spenser　is　here　for　the　crate　I　spoke　about；〃　the　head　monk　told　them。　〃He'll　explain　what　to　do。〃　
　A　large　donation　to　the　temple　had　ensured　that　his　decoy　would　remain　here　until　needed。　A　well…placed　lie　would　solve　the　rest。　
　〃I　have　a　gilded　Buddha　outside　I'd　like　to　display　for　a　time；〃　Spenser　said；　smiling　at　the　monk。　〃Do　you　have　a　space　to　put　it？〃　
　〃Certainly；〃　the　monk　said。　〃Bring　it　inside。〃　
　Twenty　minutes　later　the　switch　had　taken　place。　The　Golden　Bud　dha　was　now　hiding　in　plain　sight。　Thirty　minutes　and　less　than　a　mile　away；　the　armored　car　made　its　final　delivery　of　the　day。　After　the　guards　were　dispatched；　Spenser　stood　with　the　Macau　billionaire；　staring　at　the　object。　
　〃It's　more　than　I　could　have　hoped　for；〃　the　billionaire　said。　
　But　less　than　you　think；　Spenser　thought。　〃I'm　glad　you　like　it。〃　
　〃Now　we　celebrate；〃　the　billionaire　said；　smiling。　
　Silver　platters　of　delicacies　littered　the　long　cherrywood　table　in　the　palatial　dining　room　of　the　man's　estate。　Spenser　had　passed　on　the　monkey　meat；　as　well　as　the　sea　urchin；　and　settled　on　poultry　in　a　peanut　sauce。　Still；　the　spicy　side　dishes　were　wreaking　havoc　with　his　travel…weary　stomach；　and　he　just　wished　the　night　would　end。　
　Spenser　sat　at　the　far　end　of　the　table；　the　owner　at　the　head。　A　total　of　six　concubines　were　seated；　three　to　a　side；　in　the　middle。　After　a　dessert　of　wild　berry　mousse；　cigars　and　cognac；　the　man　rose　from　his　seat。　
　〃Shall　we　take　a　soak；　Winston？〃　he　said；　〃and　allow　the　ladies　to　do　their　job？〃　
　The　man　had　no　idea　he　would　possess　the　faux　Golden　Buddha　for　less　than　a　week。　
　And　Winston　Spenser　had　no　way　to　know　he　had　less　than　a　fortnight　to　live。　
　
　Overholt　was　a　runner。　
　He'd　started　the　practice　as　a　senior　in　high　school；　when　the　craze　had　swept　the　country；　fueled　by　the　Jim　Fixx　book　The　plete　Runner。　Throughout　college　and　graduate　school　he'd　kept　up　the　practice。　Marriage；　joining　the　CIA；　divorce　and　remarriage　had　not　slowed　down　his　obsession。　Running　was　one　of　the　few　things　that　relieved　the　stress　of　his　job。　
　Stress　was　Overholt's　other　constant。　
　Since　joining　the　CIA　in　1981　fresh　out　of　graduate　school；　he'd　served　under　six　different　directors。　Now；　for　the　first　time　in　decades；　Langston　Overholt　IV　had　a　chance　to　make　his　father's　promise　to　the　Dalai　Lama　a　reality；　while　at　the　same　time　repaying　his　old　friend　Juan　Cabrillo。　He　was　wasting　no　time　in　moving　his　plans　forward。　Just　then；　his　telephone　buzzed。　
　〃Sir；〃　his　assistant　said；　〃it's　the　DDO；　he'd　like　to　meet　with　you　as　soon　as　possible。〃　
　Overholt　reached　for　the　phone。　
　　
　LANGSTON　OVERHOLT　IV　sat　in　his　office　in　Langley；　Virginia。　His　hips　rested　in　a　tall　leather　chair　sideways　to　the　desk。　In　his　hand　was　a　black　racquetball　paddle；　its　handle　wrapped　with　white　cloth　tape　stained　by　sweat。　Slowly　and　methodically；　he　hit　a　black　rubber　ball　two　feet　in　the　air　and　then　back　down　to　the　racquet。　Every　fourth　hit；　he　flipped　the　racquet　over　to　change　sides。　The　rhythmic　action　helped　him　think。　
　Overholt　was　thin　without　being　scrawny；　more　lean　and　sinewy　than　bony。　One　hundred　and　sixty…five　pounds　graced　his　six…foot…one…inch　frame；　with　skin　stretched　tight　over　muscles　that　were　long　and　squared　rather　than　rounded　and　plump。　His　face　was　handsome　in　a　rugged　way；　rectangular　in　shape；　with　hard　edges　abounding。　His　hair　was　blond；　with　just　a　touch　of　gray　starting　to　appear　at　the　temples；　and　he　had　it　trimmed　every　two　weeks　at　the　CIA　barbershop　inside　the　pound。　
　
　THE　WEATHER　IN　Washington；　D。C。；　was　as　hot　as　Texas　asphalt　and　as　steamy　as　a　bowl　of　green　chili。　Inside　the　White　House；　the　air　conditioners　were　set　as　high　as　they　would　go；　but　they　just　couldn't　drop　the　temperature　below　seventy…five　degrees。　The　president's　home　was　aging；　and　there　was　just　so　much　adaptation　you　could　make　to　an　old　building　and　still　retain　the　historical　structure。　
　〃Has　there　ever　been　an　official　photograph　of　the　president　sitting　in　the　Oval　Office　in　a　T…shirt？〃　the　president　joked。　
　〃I'll　check；　sir；〃　said　the　aide　who　had　just　led　the　CIA　director　inside。　
　〃Thank　you；　John；〃　the　president　said；　dispatching　the　man。　
　The　president　reached　across　the　desk　and　shook　the　director's　hand　as　the　aide　closed　the　door　to　leave　the　men　alone。　The　president　motioned　for　him　to　be　seated。　
　〃These　aides　I　have　are　sharp　as　tacks；〃　the　president　noted　as　he　sat　down；　〃but　short　on　a　sense　of　humor。　The　kid's　probably　checking　with　the　White　House　historian　as　we　speak。〃　
　〃If　it　was　anyone；〃　the　director　said；　smiling；　〃I'd　guess　LBJ。〃　
　When　you're　seventeen　years　old　and　you　know　the　director　of　the　Central　Intelligence　Agency；　the　spy　game　seems　pretty　cool。　When　you　later　bee　president；　you　really　have　a　chance　to　see　what　happens。　Time　had　not　diminished　his　enthusiasmthe　president　still　found　the　intelligence　game　fascinating。　
　〃What　have　you　got　for　me？〃　the　president　asked。　
　〃Tibet；〃　the　director　said　without　preamble。　
　The　president　nodded；　then　adjusted　a　fan　on　his　desk　so　that　the　breeze　swept　evenly　across　both　men。　〃Explain。〃　
　The　CIA　director　reached　into　his　briefcase　and　removed　some　documents。　
　Then　he　laid　out　the　plan。　
　bird　fluttered　around　for　a　few　seconds；　then　stopped　and　peered　in　the　window　and　looked　directly　toward　Jintao。　
　〃How　would　you　cut　costs？〃　Jintao　said　to　the　bird；　〃and　where　do　we　find　oil？〃　
　
　IN　BEIJING；　PRESIDENT　Hu　Jintao　was　studying　documents　that　showed　the　true　state　of　the　Chinese　economy。　The　picture　was　grim。　The　race　to　modernization　had　required　more　and　more　petroleum；　and　the　Chinese　had　yet　to　locate　any　significant　new　reserves　inside　their　borders。　The　situation　had　not　been　such　a　problem　a　few　years　earlier；　when　the　price　of　oil　had　been　at　twenty…year　lows；　but　with　the　recent　price　spike　upward；　the　higher　costs　were　wreaking　havoc。　Adding　to　the　problem　were　the　Japanese；　whose　thirst　for　oil　had　led　to　a　price　petition　the　Chinese　could　not　hope　to　win。　
　Jintao　stared　out　the　window。　The　air　was　clearer　than　usual　today　a　light　wind　was　blowing　the　smoke　from　the　factories　away　from　central　Beijingbut　the　wind　was　not　so　strong　as　to　blow　away　the　soot　that　had　landed　on　the　windowsill。　Jintao　watched　as　a　sparrow　landed　on　the　sill。　The　bird's　tiny　feet　made　tracks　in　the　powder。　The　Kasim　was　sound　asleep；　his　feet　up　on　the　control　panel。　His　mouth　was　partially　opened。　
　Kasim　could　sleep　through　a　hurricane；　Lincoln　thought；　or　in　this　part　of　the　ocean；　a　cyclone。　
　
　THE　OREGON　SWEPT　past　the　Paracel　Islands　under　a　pitch…black　night　sky。　The　air　was　liquid　with　rain　that　fell　in　sheets。　The　wind　was　blowing　in　gusts　without　firm　direction　or　purpose。　For　several　minutes　it　would　rake　the　Oregon　amidships；　then　quickly　change　to　blow　bow　on　or　stern　first。　The　soggy　flags　on　the　stern　were　pivoting　on　their　staffs　as　fast　as　a　determined　Boy　Scout　trying　to　light　a　fire　with　a　stick。　
　Inside　the　control　room；　Franklin　Lincoln　stared　at　the　radar　screen。　The　edge　of　the　storm　began　petering　out　just　before　the　ship　passed　the　twenty…degree　latitude　line。　Walking　over　to　a　puter　terminal　in　the　control　room；　he　entered　mands　and　waited　while　the　satellite　images　of　the　Chinese　coastline　loaded。　
　A　haze　of　smog　could　be　seen　over　Hong　Kong　and　Macau。　
　He　glanced　over　at　Hali　Kasim；　who　was　sharing　the　night　shift。　
　
　AT　THE　SAME　time　the　Oregon　was　steaming　east；　Winston　Spenser　awoke；　startled。　Earlier　in　the　evening　he　had　visited　the　Golden　Buddha　at　A…Ma。　The　icon　was　still　in　the　mahogany　crate；　sitting　upright；　door　opened；　in　the　room　where　it　had　been　taken。　Spenser　had　gone　alone；　simple　mon　sense　dictated　that　as　few　people　as　possible　know　the　actual　location；　but　he'd　found　the　experience　unnerving。　
　Spenser　knew　the　icon　was　nothing　more　than　a　mass　of　precious　metal　and　stones；　but　for　some　strange　reason　the　object　seemed　to　have　a　life　force。　The