rludlum-shelby.thecassandracompact-第16部分

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　Randi　looked　at　the　framed　photo　on　her　desk　of　her　and　Sophia　in　Santa　Barbara　before　the　horror。　Although　over　a　year　had　passed；　Randi　had　not　been　able　to　forgive　herself　for　not　having　been　there　when　her　sister　had　needed　her　most。　While　Sophia　lay　dying　in　that　hospital　bed；　Randi　had　been　thousands　of　miles　away；　working　deep　undercover　in　Iraq；　helping　the　resistance　to　Saddam　Hussein's　regime。　She　had　not　learned　how　or　why　Sophia　had　been　murdered　until　weeks　later；　when　Jon　Smith　had　materialized　in　Baghdad　like　some　dark　djinn。
　Amid　the　rubble　of　her　grief；　Randi　had　managed　to　find　unbroken　vessels　she　could　cling　to。　But　her　feelings　for　Smith　remained　ambivalent。　She　was　grateful　that　he　had　been　with　Sophia　in　her　last　moments；　that　she　had　not　died　alone。　Yet　as　she　became　more　and　more　entangled　in　the　web　that　was　Hades　she　couldn't　help　but　wonder　if　Smith　could　somehow　have　prevented　her　sister's　murder。　There　too；　the　issue　had　been　maddenly　unclear。　She　knew　that　Smith　had　loved　Sophia　deeply　and　would　never　have　knowingly　put　her　in　harm's　way。　Yet；　when　she　stood　at　her　sister's　grave；　she　still　believed　that　he　could　have　done　something　to　save　her。
　Randi　brushed　away　that　last　thought　and　turned　to　Smith。
　〃It'll　take　a　little　while　to　set　up　the　meeting　with　Kirov。　Would　you　like　to　meet　for　a　drink　later？〃
　〃Very　much。〃
　They　settled　on　the　lounge　in　the　Sheraton；　after　Randi　had　closed　up　the　office。
　〃What　exactly　is　Bay　Digital？〃　Smith　asked。　〃And　what　do　you　do　here？〃
　〃You　mean　the　people　who　sent　you　didn't　mention　that？〃　Randi　smiled。　〃Jon；　I'm　shocked。　I　happen　to　be　the　Moscow　office　manager　of　a　very　successful　venture…capital　firm　looking　to　invest　in　promising　Russian'　high…tech　startups。〃
　〃Except　the　funding　doesn't　e　from　private　investors　or　hedge　funds；〃　Smith　said。
　〃Be　that　as　it　may；　anyone　with　money　can　open　all　doors　in　Russia。　I　have　contacts　that　range　from　the　Kremlin；　through　the　army；　and　even　into　the　Russian　mafia。〃
　〃I　always　said　you　had　friends　in　low　places。　And　is　there　such　a　thing　as　high…tech　in　this　country？〃
　〃Better　believe　it。　The　Russians　don't　have　our　equipment；　but　give　them　the　right　tools　and　they　shine。〃　She　touched　his　arm。　〃It　really　is　good　to　see　you　again；　Jon…　whatever　your　reasons　for　being　here。　Is　there　anything　you　need　right　now？〃
　Smith　pictured　Danko's　widow　and　child。　〃Tell　me　what　Russians　bring　when　they　call　on　a　woman　who's　just　lost　her　husband…　and　doesn't　know　it　yet。〃
　
　CHAPTER　EIGHT
　　
　At　7：36　A。M。　Houston　time；　Dr。　Adam　Treloar　boarded　a　British　Airways　flight　for　its　nonstop　run　over　the　Pole　to　London's　Heathrow　Airport。　Upon　arrival；　he　was　escorted　to　the　transit　lounge　where；　as　a　first…class　passenger；　he　availed　himself　of　the　services　of　a　masseuse。　After　a　quick　shower；　Treloar　picked　up　his　freshly　pressed　suit　from　a　valet　and　headed　for　gate　sixty…eight；　where　he　was　shown　into　the　forward　cabin　of　another　BA　flight；　this　one　to　Moscow。　Twenty…eight　hours　after　he　had　started　his　Journey；　Treloar　cleared　Russian　customs　and　immigration　without　incident。
　Treloar　adhered　strictly　to　the　itinerary　that　he　and　Reed　had　worked　out。　After　a　taxi　dropped　him　off　at　the　new　Hotel　Nikko　across　the　river　from　the　Kremlin；　Treloar　registered；　then　gave　the　porter　an　extravagant　tip　to　bring　the　bags　up　to　his　room。　Next；　he　exited　the　hotel　and　hailed　another　taxi。　which　took　him　to　the　cemetery　on　Mychalczuk　Prospekt。　The　old　woman　selling　flowers　by　the　entrance　was　astonished　to　receive　twenty　American　dollars　for　a　bouquet　of　wilted　daisies　and　sunflowers。　Treloar　proceeded　to　a　stretch　of　relatively　new　graves　laid　out　under　a　stand　of　birch　trees。　He　placed　the　flowers　at　the　foot　of　a　distinctive　Orthodox　cross　that　memorated　the　final　resting　place　of　his　mother；　Helen　Treloar；　nee　Helena　Sviatoslava　Bunin。
　FBI　background　investigators　had　duly　noted　that　Treloar's　mother　had　been　born　in　Russia　when　Treloar　had　applied　for　the　post　of　chief　medical　officer。　But　no　red　flags　went　up。　peting　for　medical　talent　against　the　private　sector；　NASA　was　only　too　happy　to　land　an　expert　like　Adam　Treloar；　who　came　to　the　agency　after　fifteen　years　with　Bauer…Zermatt　A。G。　No　one　asked　why　Treloar　had　given　up　his　seniority　at　such　a　prestigious　firm　or　why　he　had　accepted　a　20　percent　pay　cut。　Instead；　the　space　agency　had　handed　over　Treloar's　impeccable　credentials　and　glowing　references　and　told　the　Bureau　to　fast…track　the　background　check。
　With　the　end　of　the　Cold　War；　travel　to　Russia　had　bee　easier　than　ever。　Thousands　of　Americans　went　to　visit　relatives　whom；　in　many　cases；　they　had　seen　only　in　photographs。　Adam　Treloar　went　back；　too；　to　visit　his　mother　after　her　divorce　and　return　to　her　native　Moscow。　For　the　next　three　years；　he　flew　in　every　spring　to　spend　a　week　with　her。
　Two　years　ago；　Treloar　had　informed　his　superiors　at　NASA　that　his　mother　had　terminal　cancer。　They　miserated　and　told　him　he　could　have　as　much　personal　leave　as　he　needed。　The　dutiful　son　increased　his　visits　to　three　a　year。　Then；　last　fall；　when　Helena　Bunin　at　last　succumbed；　he　went　back　for　an　entire　month；　ostensibly　to　settle　her　affairs。
　Treloar　was　certain　that　the　FBI　was　keeping　track　of　his　visits　to　Moscow。　But　he　also　knew　that；　like　any　bureaucracy；　it　was　content　as　long　as　it　recognized　a　pattern；　and　that　pattern　did　not　change。　Over　the　years；　Treloar　had　created　just　such　a　pattern；　altering　it　only　when　he　had　a　foolproof　reason　to　do　so。　Since　this　was　the　six…month　anniversary　of　his　mother's　death；　it　would　have　seemed　out　of　place　if　he　hadn't　gone　to　visit　her　grave。
　During　the　taxi　ride　back　to　his　hotel；　Treloar　reviewed　what　he　had　done。　The　cabdriver　from　the　airport；　the　porter　at　the　hotel；　the　old　woman　at　the　cemetery；　the　other　cabdrivers…　all　would　remember　him　because　of　the　generous　tips。　If　anyone　came　checking；　the　pattern　of　his　visit　was　clear。　Now　it　would　seem　natural　to　rest　for　a　few　days　in　Moscow　before　heading　back。　Except　that　the　NASA　physician　had　more　on　his　agenda　than　sightseeing。
　Treloar　retired　to　his　room　and　slept　for　several　hours。　By　the　time　he　awoke；　darkness　had　descended　over　the　city。　He　showered；　shaved；　put　on　a　fresh　suit；　and；　bundled　up　in　a　warm　overcoat；　went　out　into　the　night。
　The　thoughts　came　unbidden　as　he　walked。　As　much　as　they　rankled　him；　he　could　never　make　them　go　away。　So　he　surrendered；　allowing　them　to　wash　over　him；　breathing　shallowly　until　they　were　spent。
　Adam　Treloar　believed　himself　to　be　marked　as　Cain　had　been　marked。　He　was　cursed　by　terrible　desires　that　he　could　neither　control　nor　escape　from。　They　were　the　reason　why　he　had　bargained　away　his　career　at　Bauer…Zermatt。
　In　another　lifetime；　Treloar　had　been　the　star　of　Bauer…Zermatt's　virology　division；　preening　in　the　respect　of　his　peers　and　the　adulation　of　his　subordinates…　one　subordinate　in　particular；　a　sloe…eyed　fawn　so　beautiful　that　Treloar　had　found　the　temptation　irresistible。　But　the　fawn　had　turned　out　to　be　a　goat；　tethered　to　one　of　Bauer…Zermatt's　petitors。　The　goat　was　meant　to　snare　the　unwary　suitor；　promise　him；　and　force　him　to　bend　to　the　petitor's　will。
　Treloar　had　never　seen　the　trap；　he'd　only　had　eyes　for　the　fawn。　But　he　saw　plenty；　later；　when　men　arrived　at　his　apartment　and　played　sex　tapes　in　which　he　had　a　starring　role。　They　offered　a　cold　choice：　exposure　or　cooperation。　Because　of　the　proprietary　nature　of　Bauer…Zermatt's　research；　every　employee　had　to　sign　a　strictly　worded　contract　whose　provisions　included　a　morals　clause。　Treloar's　tormenters　made　a　point　of　reminding　him　about　that　as　they　replayed　the　video。　They　drove　him　to　face　the　fact　that　his　options　were　few：　hand　over　information　about　the　pany's　research；　or　face　exposure。　Of　course；　exposure　would　not　be　the　end　of　it。　Public　branding　as　a　deviant　would　follow。　Then；　after　all　the　publicity；　the　civil…　and　probably　criminal…　charges；　it　would　be　futile　for　him　to　try　to　find　another　job　anywhere　in　the　medical　research　munity。
　Treloar　was　given　forty…eight　hours　to　consider　his　choices。　He　wasted　the　first　twenty…four　doing　jus