tc.redrabbit-第86部分

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　　　That　made　it　interesting。　〃Okay；　call　them　and　then　e　on　out。〃　Ridley　could　almost　hear　the　Goddamn　it；　don't　I　ever　get　a　day　off！　at　the　other　end　before　the　line　went　dead。　It　took　another　few　minutes　to　call　the　two　other　senior　Agency　officials；　and　then　Ridley　went　down　to　his　car　for　the　drive　out；　pausing　only　to　make　three　Xerox　copies。
　　　It　was　lunchtime　in　Great　Falls。　Mrs。　Moore；　ever　the　perfect　hostess；　had　lunch　meats　and　soft　drinks　set　out　for　her　unexpected　guests　before　retiring　to　her　sitting　room　upstairs。
　　　〃What　is　it；　Tommy？〃　Moore　asked。　He　liked　the　newly　appointed　NIO。　A　graduate　of　Marquette　University；　he　was　a　Russian　expert　and　had　been　one　of　Greer's　star　analysts　before　fleeting　up　to　his　present　post。　Soon　he'd　be　one　of　the　guys　who　always　acpanied　the　President　on　Air　Force　One。
　　　〃This　came　in　late　this　morning　via　Fort　Meade；〃　Ridley　said；　handing　out　the　copies。
　　　Mike　Bostock　was　the　fastest　reader　of　the　group：　〃Oh；　Lord。〃
　　　〃This　will　make　Chip　Bennett　happy；〃　James　Greer　predicted。
　　　〃Yeah；　like　a　trip　to　the　dentist；〃　Moore　observed　last　of　all。　〃Okay；　people；　what　does　this　tell　us？〃
　　　Bostock　took　it　first。　〃It　means　we　want　this　Rabbit　in　our　hutch　in　one　big　hurry；　gentlemen。〃
　　　〃Through　Budapest？〃　Moore　asked；　remembering　his　morning　brief。
　　　〃Uh…oh；〃　Bostock　observed。
　　　〃Okay。〃　Moore　leaned　forward。　〃Let's　get　our　thinking　organized。　First；　how　important　is　this　information？〃
　　　James　Greer　took　it。　〃He　says　KGB's　going　to　kill　somebody　who　doesn't　deserve　it。　That　kinda　suggests　the　Pope；　doesn't　it？〃
　　　〃More　importantly；　he　says　our　munications　systems　might　be　promised；〃　Bostock　pointed　out。　〃That's　the　hottest　thing　I　see　in　this　signal；　James。〃
　　　〃Okay；　in　either　case；　we　want　this　guy　on　our　side　of　the　wire；　correct？〃
　　　〃Judge；　you　can　bet　your　bench　on　that；〃　the　Deputy　DDO　shot　back。　〃As　quickly　as　we　can　make　it　happen。〃
　　　〃Can　we　use　our　own　assets　to　acplish　it？〃　Moore　asked　next。
　　　〃It　won't　be　easy。　Budapest　has　been　burned　down。〃
　　　〃Does　that　change　the　importance　of　getting　his　cute　little　cottontail　out　of　Redland？〃　the　DCI　asked。
　　　〃Nope。〃　Bostock　shook　his　head。
　　　〃Okay；　if　we　can't　do　it　ourselves；　do　we　call　in　a　marker？〃
　　　〃The　Brits；　you　mean？〃　Greer　asked。
　　　〃We've　used　them　before。　We　have　good　relations　with　them；　and　Basil　does　like　to　generate　debts　with　us；〃　Moore　reminded　them。　〃Mike；　can　you　live　with　that？〃　he　asked　Bostock。
　　　A　decisive　nod。　〃Yes；　sir。　But　it　might　be　nice　to　have　one　of　our　people　around　to　keep　an　eye　on　things。　Basil　can't　object　to　that。〃
　　　〃Okay；　we　need　to　decide　which　of　our　assets　we　can　send。　Next；〃　Moore　went　on；　〃how　fast？〃
　　　〃How　does　tonight　grab　you；　Arthur？〃　Greer　observed　to　general　amusement。　〃The　way　I　read　this；　Foley's　willing　to　run　the　operation　out　of　his　own　office；　and　he's　pretty　hot　to　trot；　too。　Foley's　a　good　boy。　I　think　we　let　him　run　with　it。　Budapest　is　probably　a　good　exit　point　for　our　Rabbit。〃
　　　〃Concur；〃　Mike　Bostock　agreed。　〃It's　a　place　a　KGB　officer　can　get　to；　like　on　vacation；　and　just　disappear。〃
　　　〃They'll　know　he's　gone　pretty　fast；〃　Moore　thought　out　loud。
　　　〃They　knew　when　Arkady　Shevchenko　skipped；　too。　So　what？　He　still　gave　us　good　information；　didn't　he？〃　Bostock　pointed　out。　He'd　helped　oversee　that　operation；　which　had　really　been　ramrodded　by　the　FBI　in　New　York　City。
　　　〃Okay。　What　do　we　send　back　to　Foley？〃　Moore　asked。
　　　〃One　word：　'Approved。'　〃　Bostock　always　backed　his　field　officers。
　　　Moore　looked　around　the　room。　〃Objections？　Anybody？〃　Heads　just　shook。
　　　〃Okay；　Tommy。　Back　to　Langley。　Send　that　to　Foley。〃
　　　〃Yes；　sir。〃　The　NIO　stood　and　walked　out。　One　nice　thing　about　Judge　Moore。　When　you　needed　a　decision；　you　might　not　like　what　you　got；　but　you　always　got　it。
　　　
　　　CHAPTER　19　…　CLEAR　SIGNAL
　　　The　time　difference　was　the　biggest　handicap　in　working　his　station；　Foley　knew。　If　he　waited　around　the　embassy　for　a　reply；　he　might　have　to　wait　for　hours；　and　there　was　no　percentage　in　that。　So；　right　after　the　signal　went　out；　he'd　collected　his　family　and　gone　home；　with　Eddie　conspicuously　eating　another　hot　dog　on　the　way　out　to　the　car；　and　a　facsimile　copy　of　the　New　York　Daily　News　in　his　hand。　It　was　the　best　sports　page　of　the　New　York　papers；　he'd　long　thought；　if　a　little　lurid　in　its　headlines。　Mike　Lupica　knew　his　baseball　better　than　the　rest　of　the　wannabe　ballplayers；　and　Ed　Foley　had　always　respected　his　analysis。　He　might　have　made　a　good　spook　if　he'd　chosen　a　useful　line　of　work。　So　now　he　could　see　why　the　Yankees　had　fallen　on　their　asses　this　season。　It　looked　as　though　the　goddamned　Orioles　were　going　to　take　the　pennant；　and　that；　to　his　New　York　sensibilities；　was　a　crime　worse　than　how　the　Rangers　looked　this　year。
　　　〃So；　Eddie；　you　looking　forward　to　skating？〃　he　asked　his　son；　belted　in　the　back　seat。
　　　〃Yeah！〃　the　little　guy　answered　at　once。　Eddie　Junior　was　his　son；　all　right；　and　maybe　here　he'd　really　learn　how　to　play　ice　hockey　the　right　way。
　　　Waiting　in　his　father's　closet　was　the　best　pair　of　junior　hockey　skates　that　money　could　buy；　and　another　pair　for　when　his　feet　got　bigger。　Mary　Pat　had　already　checked　out　the　local　junior　leagues；　and　those；　her　husband　thought；　were　about　the　best　this　side　of　Canada；　and　maybe　better。
　　　On　the　whole；　it　was　a　shame　he　couldn't　have　an　STU　in　his　house；　but　the　Rabbit　had　told　him　that　they　might　not　be　entirely　secure；　and　besides；　it　would　have　told　the　Russians　that　he　wasn't　just　the　embassy　officer　who　baby…sat　the　local　reporters。
　　　Weekends　were　the　dullest　time　for　the　Foley　family。　Neither　minded　the　time　with　the　little　guy；　of　course；　but　they　could　have　done　that　at　their　now…rented　Virginia　home。　They　were　in　Moscow　for　their　work；　which　was　a　passion　for　both　of　them；　and　something　their　son；　they　hoped；　would　understand　someday。　So　for　now　his　father　read　some　books　with　him。　The　little　guy　was　picking　up　on　the　alphabet；　and　seemed　to　read　words；　though　as　calligraphic　symbols　rather　than　letter　constructs。　It　was　enough　for　his　father　to　be　pleased　about；　though　Mary　Pat　had　a　few　minor　doubts。　After　thirty　minutes　of　that；　Little　Eddie　talked　his　dad　through　a　half　hour　of　Transformers　tapes；　to　the　great　satisfaction　of　the　former　and　the　bemusement　of　the　latter。
　　　The　Station　Chief's　mind；　of　course；　was　on　the　Rabbit；　and　now　it　returned　to　his　wife's　suggestion　of　getting　the　package　out　without　KGB's　knowing　they　were　gone。　It　was　during　the　Transformers　tape　that　it　came　back　to　him。　You　couldn't　have　a　murder　without　a　body；　but　with　a　body　you　damned　sure　had　a　murder。　But　what　if　the　body　wasn't　the　right　one？
　　　The　essence　of　magic；　he'd　once　heard　Doug　Henning　say；　was　controlling　the　perception　of　the　audience。　If　you　could　determine　what　they　saw；　then　you　could　also　dictate　what　they　thought　they　saw；　and　from　that　precisely　what　they　would　remember　seeing；　and　what　they　would　then　tell　others。　The　key　to　that　was　in　giving　them　something　that　they　expected　to　see；　even　if　it　was　unbelievable。　People…even　intelligent　people…believed　all　manner　of　impossible　things。　It　was　sure　as　hell　true　in　Moscow；　where　the　rulers　of　this　vast　and　powerful　country　believed　in　a　political　philosophy　as　out　of　tune　with　contemporary　reality　as　the　Divine　Right　of　Kings。　More　to　the　point；　they　knew　it　was　a　false　philosophy；　and　yet　they　manded　themselves　to　believe　it　as　though　it　were　Holy　Scripture　written　in　gold　ink　by　God's　own　hand。　So　these　people　could　be　fooled。　They　worked　pretty　hard　to　fool　themselves；　after　all。
　　　Okay；　how　to　fool　them？　Foley　asked　himself。　Give　the　other　guy　something　he　expected　to　see；　and　he'd　see　it；　whether　it　was　really　there　or　not。　They　wanted　the　Sovs　to　believe　that　the　Rabbit　and　his　family　had。。。　not　skipped　town；　but　had。。。　died？
　　　Dead　people；　so　Captain　Kidd　had　supposedly　said；　tell　no　tales。　And　neither　did　the　wrong　dead　people。
　　　The　Brits　did　this　once　in　World　War　II；　didn't　they？　Foley　wondered。　Yes；　he'd　read　the　book　in　high　school；　and　even　then；　at　Fordham　Prep；　the　operational　concept　had　impressed　him。　Operation　MINCEMEAT；　it　had　b