tc.thebearandthedragon-第1部分

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　Acknowledgments
　As　always；　some　friends　were　there　to　help：
　Roland；　the　screw　in　Colorado；　
　for　the　superb　language　lesson　…　
　good　luck　looking　after　your　wayward　children…
　
　Harry；　the　kid　in　the　ether　world；
　for　some　unexpected　information；
　
　John　G。；　my　gateway　into
　the　world　of　technology；
　
　And　Charles；　a　fine　teacher　from　long　ago；　
　and　probably　a　pretty　good　soldier；　too。
　
　PROLOGUE
　The　White　Mercedes
　
　Going　to　work　was　the　same　everywhere；　and　the　changeover　from　Marxism…Leninism　to　Chaos…Capitalism　hadn't　changed　matters　much　…　well；　maybe　things　were　now　a　little　worse。　Moscow；　a　city　of　wide　streets；　was　harder　to　drive　in　now　that　nearly　anyone　could　have　a　car；　and　the　center　lane　down　the　wide　boulevards　was　no　longer　tended　by　militiamen　for　the　Politburo　and　used　by　Central　mittee　men　who　considered　it　a　personal　right　of　way；　like　Czarist　princes　in　their　troika　sleds。　Now　it　was　a　left　turn　lane　for　anyone　with　a　Zil　or　other　private　car。　In　the　case　of　Sergey　Nikolay'ch　Golovko；　the　car　was　a　white　Mercedes　600；　the　big　one　with　the　S…class　body　and　twelve　cylinders　of　German　power　under　the　hood。　There　weren't　many　of　them　in　Moscow；　and　truly　his　was　an　extravagance　that　ought　to　have　embarrassed　him。。。　but　didn't。　Maybe　there　were　no　more　nomenklatura　in　this　city；　but　rank　did　have　its　privileges；　and　he　was　chairman　of　the　SVR。　His　apartment　was　also　large；　on　the　top　floor　of　a　high…rise　building　on　Kutusovskiy　Prospekt；　a　structure　relatively　new　and　well…made；　down　to　the　German　appliances　which　were　a　long…standing　luxury　accorded　senior　government　officials。
　He　didn't　drive　himself。　He　had　Anatoliy　for　that；　a　burly　former　Spetsnaz　special…operations　soldier　who　carried　a　pistol　under　his　coat　and　who　drove　the　car　with　ferocious　aggression；　while　tending　it　with　loving　care。　The　windows　were　coated　with　dark　plastic；　which　denied　the　casual　onlooker　the　sight　of　the　people　inside；　and　the　windows　were　thick；　made　of　polycarbonate　and　specced　to　stop　anything　up　to　a　12。7…mm　bullet；　or　so　the　pany　had　told　Golovko's　purchasing　agents　sixteen　months　before。　The　armor　made　it　nearly　a　ton　heavier　than　was　the　norm　for　an　S600　Benz；　but　the　power　and　the　ride　didn't　seem　to　suffer　from　that。　It　was　the　uneven　streets　that　would　ultimately　destroy　the　car。　Road…paving　was　a　skill　that　his　country　had　not　yet　mastered；　Golovko　thought　as　he　turned　the　page　in　his　morning　paper。　It　was　the　American　International　Herald　Tribune；　always　a　good　source　of　news　since　it　was　a　joint　venture　of　The　Washington　Post　and　The　New　York　Times；　which　were　together　two　of　the　most　skilled　intelligence　services　in　the　world；　if　a　little　too　arrogant　to　be　the　true　professionals　Sergey　Nikolay'ch　and　his　people　were。
　He'd　joined　the　intelligence　business　when　the　agency　had　been　known　as　the　KGB；　the　mittee　for　State　Security；　still；　he　thought；　the　best　such　government　department　the　world　had　ever　known；　even　if　it　had　ultimately　failed。　Golovko　sighed。　Had　the　USSR　not　fallen　in　the　early　1990s；　then　his　place　as　Chairman　would　have　put　him　as　a　full　voting　member　of　the　Politburo；　a　man　of　genuine　power　in　one　of　the　world's　two　superpowers；　a　man　whose　mere　gaze　could　make　strong　men　tremble。。。　but。。。　no；　what　was　the　use　of　that？　he　asked　himself。　It　was　all　an　illusion；　an　odd　thing　for　a　man　of　supposed　regard　for　objective　truth　to　value。　That　had　always　been　the　cruel　dichotomy。　KGB　had　always　been　on　the　lookout　for　hard　facts；　but　then　reported　those　facts　to　people　besotted　with　a　dream；　who　then　bent　the　truth　in　the　service　of　that　dream。　When　the　truth　had　finally　broken　through；　the　dream　had　suddenly　evaporated　like　a　cloud　of　steam　in　a　high　wind；　and　reality　had　poured　in　like　the　flood　following　the　breakup　of　an　ice…bound　river　in　springtime。　And　then　the　Politburo；　those　brilliant　men　who'd　wagered　their　lives　on　the　dream；　had　found　that　their　theories　had　been　only　the　thinnest　of　reeds；　and　reality　was　the　swinging　scythe；　and　the　eminence　bearing　that　tool　didn't　deal　in　salvation。
　But　it　was　not　so　for　Golovko。　A　dealer　in　facts；　he'd　been　able　to　continue　his　profession；　for　his　government　still　needed　them。　In　fact；　his　authority　was　broader　now　than　it　would　have　been；　because　as　a　man　who　well　knew　the　surrounding　world　and　some　of　its　more　important　personalities　intimately；　he　was　uniquely　suited　to　advising　his　president；　and　so　he　had　a　voice　in　foreign　policy；　defense；　and　domestic　matters。　Of　them；　the　third　was　the　trickiest　lately；　which　had　rarely　been　the　case　before。　It　was　now　also　the　most　dangerous。　It　was　an　odd　thing。　Previously；　the　mere　spoken　（more　often；　shouted）　phrase　〃State　Security！〃　would　freeze　Soviet　citizens　in　their　stride；　for　KGB　had　been　the　most　feared　organ　of　the　previous　government；　with　power　such　as　Reinhart　Heydrich's　Sicherheitsdienst　had　only　dreamed　about；　the　power　to　arrest；　imprison；　interrogate；　and　to　kill　any　citizen　it　wished；　with　no　recourse　at　all。　But　that；　too；　was　a　thing　of　the　past。　Now　KGB　was　split；　and　the　domestic…security　branch　was　a　shadow　of　its　former　self；　while　the　SVR　…　formerly　the　First　Chief　Directorate　…　still　gathered　information；　but　lacked　the　immediate　strength　that　had　e　with　being　able　to　enforce　the　will；　if　not　quite　the　law；　of　the　munist　government。　But　his　current　duties　were　still　vast；　Golovko　told　himself；　folding　the　paper。
　He　was　only　a　kilometer　away　from　Dzerzhinskiy　Square。　That；　too；　was　no　longer　the　same。　The　statue　of　Iron　Feliks　was　gone。　It　had　always　been　a　chilling　sight　to　those　who'd　known　who　the　man　was　whose　bronze　image　had　stood　alone　in　the　square；　but　now　it；　too；　was　a　distant　memory。　The　building　behind　it　was　the　same；　however。　Once　the　stately　home　office　of　the　Rossiya　Insurance　pany；　it　had　later　been　known　as　the　Lubyanka；　a　fearsome　word　even　in　the　fearsome　land　ruled　by　Iosef　Vissarionovich　Stalin；　with　its　basement　full　of　cells　and　interrogation　rooms。　Most　of　those　functions　had　been　transferred　over　the　years　to　Lefortovo　Prison　to　the　east；　as　the　KGB　bureaucracy　had　grown；　as　all　such　bureaucracies　grow；　filling　the　vast　building　like　an　expanding　balloon；　as　it　claimed　every　room　and　corner　until　secretaries　and　file　clerks　occupied　the　（remodeled）　spaces　where　Kamenev　and　Ordzhonikidze　had　been　tortured　under　the　eyes　of　Yagoda　and　Beriya。　Golovko　supposed　that　there　hadn't　been　too　many　ghosts。
　Well；　a　new　working　day　beckoned。　A　staff　meeting　at　8：45；　then　the　normal　routine　of　briefings　and　discussions；　lunch　at　12：15；　and　with　luck　he'd　be　back　in　the　car　and　on　his　way　back　home　soon　after　six；　before　he　had　to　change　for　the　reception　at　the　French　Embassy。　He　looked　forward　to　the　food　and　wine；　if　not　the　conversation。
　Another　car　caught　his　eye。　It　was　a　twin　to　his　own；　another　large　Mercedes　S…class；　iceberg　white　just　like　his　own；　plete　down　to　the　American…made　dark　plastic　on　the　windows。　It　was　driving　purposefully　in　the　bright　morning；　as　Anatoliy　slowed　and　pulled　behind　a　dump　truck；　one　of　the　thousand　such　large　ugly　vehicles　that　covered　the　streets　of　Moscow　like　a　dominant　life…form；　this　one's　load　area　cluttered　with　hand　tools　rather　than　filled　with　earth。　There　was　yet　another　truck　a　hundred　meters　beyond；　driving　slowly　as　though　its　driver　was　unsure　of　his　route。　Golovko　stretched　in　his　seat；　barely　able　to　see　around　the　truck　in　front　of　his　Benz；　wishing　for　the　first　cup　of　Sri　Lankan　tea　at　his　desk；　in　the　same　room　that　Beriya　had　once。。。
　。。。the　distant　dump　truck。　A　man　had　been　lying　in　the　back。　Now　he　rose；　and　he　was　holding。。。
　〃Anatoliy！〃　Golovko　said　sharply；　but　his　driver　couldn't　see　around　the　truck　to　his　immediate　front　。
　。。。it　was　an　RPG；　a　slender　pipe　with　a　bulbous　end。　The　sighting　bar　was　up；　and　as　the　distant　truck　was　now　stopped；　the　man　came　up　to　one　knee　and　turned；　aiming　his　weapon　at　the　other　white　Benz　…
　　…　the　other　driver　saw　it　and　tried　to　swerve；　but　found　his　way　blocked　by　the　morning　traffic　and　…
　　…　not　much　in　the　way　of　a　visual　signature；　just　a　thin　puff　of　smoke　from　the　rear　of　the　launcher…tube；　but　the　bulbous　part　leapt　off　and　streaked　into　the　hood　of　the　other　white　Mercedes；　and　there　it　exploded。
　It　hit　just　short　of　the　windshield。　The　explosion　wasn't　the　fireball　so　beloved　of　Western　movies；　just　a　muted　flash　and　gray　smoke；　but　the　sound　roared　across　the　square；　and　a　wide；　flat；　jagged　hole　blew　out　of　the　trunk　of　the　car；　and　that　meant　that　anyone　inside　the　vehicle　would　now　be　dead；　Golovko　knew　without　pausing　to　think　on　it。　Then　the　gasoline　ignited；　and　the　car　burned；　along　with　a　few　square　meters　of　asphalt。　The　Mercedes　stopped　almost　at　once；　its　left…side　tires　shredded　and　flattened　by　the　explosion。　The　dump　truck　in　front　of　Golovko's　car　panic…stopped；　and　Anatoliy　swerved　right；　his　eyes　narrowed　by　the　noise；　but　not　yet　…
　〃Govno！〃　Now　Anatoliy　saw　what　had　happened　and　took　action。　He　kept　moving　right；　accelerating　hard　and　swerving　back　and　forth　as　his　eyes　picked　holes　in　the　traffic。　The　majority　of　the　vehicles　in　sight　had　stopped；　and　Golovko's　driver　sought　out　the　holes　and　darted　through　them；　arriving　at　the　vehicle　entrance　to　Moscow　Center　in　less　than　a　minute。　The　armed　guards　there　were　already　moving　out　into　the　square；　along　with　the　supplementary　response　force　from　its　shack　just　inside　and　out　of　sight。　The　mander　of　the　group；　a　senior　lieutenant；　saw　Golovko's　car　and　recognized　it；　waved　him　inside　and　motioned　to　two　of　his　men　to　acpany　it　to　the　drop…off　point。　The　arrival　time　was　now　the　only　normal　aspect　of　the　young　day。　Golovko　stepped　out；　and　two　young　soldiers　formed　up　in　physical　contact　with　his　heavy　topcoat。　Anatoliy　stepped　out；　too；　his　pistol　in　his　hand　and　his　coat　open；　looking　back　through　the　gate　with　suddenly　anxious　eyes。　His　head　turned　quickly。
　〃Get　him　inside！〃　And　with　that　order；　the　two　privates　strong…armed　Golovko　through　the　double　bronze　doors；　where　more　security　troops　were　arriving。
　〃This　way；　rade　Chairman；〃　a　uniformed　captain　said；　taking　Sergey　Nikolay'ch's　arm　and　heading　off　to　the　executiv