cc.vixen03-第47部分

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　〃I　always　figured　him　for　a　cheapass；〃　Mapes　grunted。
　Pitt　smiled；　hoping　Mapes　couldn't　read　the　anxiety　behind　his　eyes。
　Abe　Steiger　rubbed　the　sweat　from　his　palms　on　his　pant　legs　and　picked　up　the　phone　on　the　third　ring；　taking　a　bite　from　a　banana　before　he　spoke。
　〃General　Grosfield　here；〃　he　mumbled。
　〃General；　this　is　Orville　Mapes；　of　Phalanx　Arms。〃
　〃Mapes；　where　are　you？　You　sound　like　you're　talking　from　the　bottom　of　a　barrel。〃
　〃You　sound　muffled　and　distant；　too；　General。〃
　〃You　caught　me　in　the　middle　of　a　peanut…butter　sandwich。　I　like　them　thick　with　gobs　of　mayonnaise。　What's　on　your　mind；　Mapes？〃
　〃Sorry　to　interrupt　your　lunch；　but　do　you　know　a　Mr。　Dirk　Pitt？〃
　Steiger　forced　a　pause　and　took　a　deep　breath　before　answering。　〃Pitt。　Yes；　I　know　Pitt。　He's　an　investigator　for　the　Senate　Armed　Forces　mittee。〃
　〃His　credentials　are　right　up　there；　then。〃
　〃They　don't　go　any　higher；〃　said　Steiger；　as　though　talking　with　a　mouthful。　〃Why　do　you　ask？〃
　〃He's　sitting　in　front　of　me；　demanding　to　inspect　my　inventory　records。〃
　〃I　wondered　when　he'd　get　around　to　you　civilians。〃　Steiger　took　another　bite　from　the　banana。　〃Pitt　is　heading　up　the　Stanton　probe。〃
　〃The　Stanton　probe？　I　never　heard　of　it。〃
　〃I'm　not　surprised。　They're　not　advertising。　Some　do…good　senator　got　it　in　his　head　that　stockpiles　of　nerve…gas　weapons　are　hidden　under　the　Army's　carpet。　So　he　launched　a　probe　to　find　them。〃　Steiger　wolfed　down　the　last　of　the　banana　and　tossed　the　peel　in　one　of　General　Grosfield's　desk　drawers。　〃Pitt　and　his　investigators　didn't　turn　up　so　much　as　a　pellet。　Now　he's　after　you　surplus　boys。〃
　〃What　do　you　suggest？〃
　〃What　I　suggest；〃　Steiger　blurted；　〃is　that　you　give　the　bastard　what　he　wants。　If　you　have　any　gas　canisters　stashed　in　your　warehouses；　give　them　to　him　and　save　yourself　a　carload　of　grief。　The　Stanton　mittee　is　not　out　to　prosecute　anybody。　They　only　want　to　make　damned　sure　some　Third　World　dictator　doesn't　lay　his　hands　on　the　wrong　kind　of　weapons。〃
　〃Thanks　for　the　advice；　General；〃　Mapes　said。　Then；　〃Mayonnaise；　you　say？　I　prefer　peanut　butter　with　onions；　myself。〃
　〃To　each　his　own；　Mr。　Mapes。　Good…bye。〃
　Steiger　hung　up　the　phone　and　let　out　a　deep；　satisfied　sigh。　Then　he　wiped　the　receiver　with　his　handkerchief　and　exited　into　the　hall。　He　was　just　in　the　act　of　closing　the　door　to　the　general's　office　when　a　captain　in　Army　green　walked　around　a　corner。　The　captain's　eyes　grew　mildly　suspicious　at　the　sight　of　Steiger。
　〃Excuse　me；　Colonel；　but　if　you　were　looking　for　General　Grosfield；　he's　out　to　lunch。〃
　Steiger　straightened　and　offered　the　captain　his　best　〃I　outrank　you〃　stare　and　said；　〃I　don't　know　the　general。　This　jungle　of　concrete　threw　my　sense　of　direction　out　of　balance。　I'm　looking　for　the　Army　Accident　and　Safety　Department。　Got　lost　and　poked　my　head　in　this　office　to　ask　directions。〃
　The　captain　seemed　noticeably　relieved　at　avoiding　an　embarrassing　situation。　〃Oh　hell；　I　get　lost　ten　times　a　day　myself。　You'll　find　Accident　and　Safety　one　floor　down。　Just　take　the　elevator　around　the　next　corner　to　your　right。〃
　〃Thank　you；　Captain。〃
　〃My　pleasure；　sir。〃
　In　the　elevator　Steiger　smiled　devilishly　to　himself　as　he　wondered　what　General　Grosfield　would　think　when　he　found　the　banana　peel　in　his　desk。
　Unlike　most　security　guards　who　wear　ill…fitting　uniforms　with　waist　belts　sagged　by　heavy　revolvers；　Mapes's　people　looked　more　like　fashionably　attired　bat　troops　as　imagined　by　the　editors　of　Gentle…men's　Quarterly　magazine。　Two　of　them　stood　smartly　at　the　gate　to　the　Phalanx　warehouse　grounds　in　neatly　tailored　field　fatigues　with　the　latest　in　assault　rifles　slung　over　their　shoulders。
　Mapes　slowed　his　Rolls…Royce　convertible　and　lifted　both　hands　from　the　steering　wheel　in　an　apparent　greeting。　The　guard　nodded　and　waved　to　his　partner；　who　pulled　open　the　gate　from　the　inside。
　〃I　assume　that　was　a　signal　of　some　kind；〃　said　Pitt。
　〃Pardon？〃
　〃The　hands…in…the…air　routine。〃
　〃Ah　yes；〃　Mapes　said。　〃If　you　had　been　holding　a　concealed　gun　on　me；　my　hands　would　have　remained　on　the　wheel。　A　normal　gesture。　Then；　as　we　were　waved　through　and　your　attention　was　lulled　by　the　guard's　opening　the　gate；　his　teammate　would　have　discreetly　stepped　behind　the　car　and　blown　your　head　off。〃
　〃I'm　glad　you　remembered　to　raise　your　hands。〃
　〃You're　most　observant；　Mr。　Pitt；〃　said　Mapes。　〃However；　you　force　me　to　issue　a　new　signal　to　the　gate　guards。〃
　〃I'm　crushed　you　don't　trust　me　to　keep　your　secret。〃
　Mapes　did　not　reply　to　Pitt's　sarcasm。　He　kept　his　eyes　on　a　narrow　asphalt　road　that　passed　between　semingly　endless　rows　of　Quonset　huts。　After　about　a　mile　they　came　to　an　open　field　crammed　with　heavily　armored　tanks　in　various　states　of　rust　and　disrepair。　A　small　army　of　mechanics　was　busily　crawling　over　ten　of　the　massive　vehicles　that　had　been　parked　in　formation　beside　the　road。
　〃How　many　acres　do　you　have？〃　Pitt　asked。
　〃Five　thousand；〃　Mapes　replied。　〃You're　looking　at　the　world's　sixth…largest　army　in　terms　of　equipment。　Phalanx　Arms　also　ranks　seventh　as　an　air　force。〃
　Mapes　turned　the　car　onto　a　dirt　road　that　paralleled　several　bunkers　set　into　a　hillside；　and　stopped　in　front　of　one　marked　ARSENAL　6。　He　slid　from　behind　the　wheel　and　pulled　a　single　key　from　his　pocket；　insert…ed　it　in　a　large　brass　lock；　and　pulled　the　catch　free。　Then　he　swung　open　a　pair　of　steel　doors　and　flipped　on　the　light　switch。
　Inside　the　cavelike　bunker；　thousands　of　ammunition　cases　and　crates　containing　a　vast　variety　of　shell　sizes　lay　stacked　in　a　tunnel　that　seemed　to　stretch　into　infinity。　Pitt　had　never　seen　so　much　potential　destruction　heaped　in　one　place。
　Mapes　motioned　toward　a　golf　cart。　〃No　need　to　raise　blisters　walk…ing。　This　storage　area　runs　underground　for　nearly　two　miles。〃
　The　arsenal　was　cold　and　the　hum　from　the　electric　cart　seemed　to　hang　in　the　damp　air。　Mapes　turned　into　a　side　tunnel　and　slowed　down。　He　held　a　map　up　to　the　light　and　studied　it。　〃Beginning　here　and　ending　about　a　hundred　yards　down　is　the　last　store　of　sixteen…inch　naval　shells　in　the　world。　They're　obsolete　because　only　battleships　can　use　them；　and　there　is　not　a　single　operational　battleship　left。　The　gas　shells　I　bought　from　Raferty　should　be　stacked　in　an　area　near　the　middle。〃
　〃I　see　no　sign　of　their　canisters；〃　said　Pitt。
　Mapes　shrugged。　〃Business　is　business。　Stainless…steel　canisters　are　worth　money。　I　sold　them　to　a　chemical　pany。〃
　〃Your　supply　seems　endless。　It　might　take　hours　to　dig　them　out。〃
　〃No；〃　replied　Mapes。　〃The　gas　shells　were　assigned　to　Lot　Six。〃　He　stepped　from　the　cart　and　walked　amid　the　sea　of　projectiles　for　about　fifty　paces　and　then　pointed。　〃Yes；　here　they　are。〃　He　carefully　stepped　through　a　narrow　access　and　stopped。
　Pitt　remained　in　the　main　aisle；　but　even　under　the　dull　glow　of　the　overhead　lights　he　could　detect　a　blank　expression　on　Mapes's　face。
　〃Problem？〃
　Mapes　paused；　shaking　his　head。　〃I　don't　understand　it。　I　find　only　four。　There　should　be　eight。〃
　Pitt　stiffened。　〃They　must　be　around　somewhere。〃
　〃You　start　looking　from　the　other　end；　beginning　at　Lot　Thirty；〃　Mapes　ordered。　〃I'll　go　back　to　Lot　One　and　begin　there。〃
　After　forty　minutes　they　met　in　the　middle。　Mapes's　eyes　reflected　a　bewildered　look。　He　held　out　his　hands　in　a　helpless　gesture。
　〃Nothing。〃
　〃Dammit；　Mapes！〃　Pitt　shouted；　his　voice　echoing　off　the　concrete　walls。　〃You　must　have　sold　them！〃
　〃No！〃　he　protested。　〃They　were　a　bad　buy。　I　miscalculated。　Every　government　I　pitched　was　afraid　to　be　the　first　to　use　gas　since　Vietnam。〃
　〃Okay；　four　down；　four　to　go；〃　Pitt　said；　pulling　his　emotions　back　under　control。　〃Where　do　we　go　from　here？〃
　Mapes　seemed　to　lose　his　train　of　thought　for　a　moment。　〃The　inven…tory　。。。　we'll　check　inventory　records　against　sales。〃
　Mapes　used　a　call　phone　at　the　tunnel　entrance　to　alert　his　office。　When　he　and　Pitt　got　back；　the　Phalanx　Arms　accountant　had　laid　out　the　records　on　his　desk。　Mapes　flipped　through　the　ledgered　pages　swiftly。　It　took　him　less　than　ten　minutes　to　find　the　answer。
　〃I　was　wrong；〃　he　said　quietl