tc.thebearandthedragon-第157部分

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e'd　cooperated　fully；　wondering　what　the　hell　she'd　stumbled　into。　A　criminal　of　some　sort？　Drug　trafficker；　perhaps？　If　he　called　her；　she'd　call　these　people　and　to　hell　with　him。　Life　for　a　woman　of　her　trade　was　difficult　enough。
　
　He's　on　the　puter；〃　an　electronics　specialist　said　at　FSS　headquarters。　He　read　the　keystrokes　off　the　keyboard　bug　they'd　planted；　and　they　not　only　showed　up　on　his　screen；　but　also　ran　live　on　a　duplicate　of　the　subject　desktop　system。　〃There；　there's　the　clear…text。　He's　got　the　message。〃
　There　was　a　minute　or　so　of　thoughtful　pause；　and　then　he　began　typing　again。　He　logged　onto　his　e…mail　service　and　started　typing　up　messages。　They　all　said　some　variant　of　〃contact　me　as　soon　as　you　can；〃　and　that　told　them　what　he　was　up　to。　A　total　of　four　letters　had　gone　out；　though　one　suggested　forwarding　to　one　or　more　others。　Then　he　logged　off　and　shut　his　puter　down。
　〃Now；　let's　see　if　we　can　identify　his　correspondents；　shall　we？〃　the　senior　investigator　told　his　staff。　That　took　all　of　twenty　minutes。　What　had　keen　routine　drudgery　was　now　as　exciting　as　watching　the　World　Cup　football　final。
　
　The　Myasishchev　M…5　reconnaissance　aircraft　lifted　off　from　Taza　just　before　dawn。　An　odd…looking　design　with　its　twin　booms；　it　was　a　forty…years…too…late　Russian　version　of　the　venerable　Lockheed　U…2；　able　to　cruise　at　seventy　thousand　feet　at　a　sedate　five　hundred　or　so　knots　and　take　photographs　in　large　numbers　with　high　resolution。　The　pilot　was　an　experienced　Russian　air　force　major　with　orders　not　to　stray　within　ten　kilometers　of　the　Chinese　border。　This　was　to　avoid　provoking　his　country's　potential　enemies；　and　that　order　was　not　as　easy　to　execute　as　it　had　been　to　write　down　in　Moscow；　because　the　borders　between　countries　are　rarely　straight　lines。　So；　the　major　programmed　his　autopilot　carefully　and　sat　back　to　monitor　his　instruments　while　the　camera　systems　did　all　the　real　work。　The　main　instrument　he　monitored　was　his　threat…receiver；　essentially　a　radio　scanner　programmed　to　note　the　energy　of　radar　transmitters。　There　were　many　such　transmitters　on　the　border；　most　of　the　low…　to…mid…frequency　search　types；　but　then　a　new　one　came　up。　This　was　on　the　X…band；　and　it　came　from　the　south；　and　that　meant　that　a　Chinese　surface…to…air　missile　battery　was　illuminating　him　with　a　tracking…and…targeting　radar。　That　got　his　attention；　because　although　seventy　thousand　was　higher　than　any　mercial　aircraft　could　fly；　and　higher　than　many　fighters　could　reach；　it　was　well　within　the　flight　envelope　of　a　SAM；　as　an　American　named　Francis　Gary　Powers　had　once　discovered　over　Central　Russia。　A　fighter　could　outmaneuver　most　SAMs；　but　the　M…5　was　not　a　fighter　and　had　trouble　outmaneuvering　clouds　on　a　windless　day。　And　so　he　kept　his　eye　on　the　threat…receiver's　dials　while　his　ears　registered　the　shrill　beep…beep　of　the　aural　alert。　The　visual　display　showed　that　the　pulse…repetition　rate　was　in　the　tracking　rather　than　the　lock…up　mode。　So；　a　missile　was　probably　not　in　the　air；　and　the　sky　was　clear　enough　that　he'd　probably　see　the　smoke　trail　that　such　missiles　always　left；　and　today…no；　no　smoke　ing　up　from　the　ground。　For　defensive　systems；　he　had　only　a　primitive　chaff　dispenser　and　prayer。　Not　even　a　white…noise　jammer；　the　major　groused。　But　there　was　no　sense　in　worrying。　He　was　ten　kilometers　inside　his　own　country's　airspace；　and　whatever　SAM　systems　the　Chinese　possessed　were　probably　well　inside　their　own　borders。　It　would　be　a　stretch　for　them　to　reach　him；　and　he　could　always　turn　north　and　run　while　punching　loose　a　few　kilos　of　shredded　aluminum　foil　to　give　the　inbound　missile　something　else　to　chase。　As　it　played　out；　the　mission　involved　four　plete　sweeps　of　the　border　region；　and　that　required　ninety　otherwise　boring　minutes　before　he　reprogrammed　the　M…5　back　to　the　old　fighter　base　outside　Taza。
　The　ground　crew　supporting　the　mission　had　also　been　deployed　from　the　Moscow　area。　As　soon　as　the　M…5　rolled　to　a　stop；　the　film　cassettes　were　unloaded　and　driven　to　the　portable　film　lab　for　development；　then　forwarded；　still　wet；　to　the　interpreters。　They　saw　few　tanks；　but　lots　of　tracks　in　the　ground；　and　that　was　all　they　needed　to　see。
　
　
　
　
　CHAPTER　49
　Disarming
　
　〃I　know；　Oleg。　I　understand　that　we　developed　the　intelligence　in　Washington　and　forwarded　it　to　your　people　immediately；〃　Reilly　said　to　his　friend。
　〃You　must　be　proud　of　that；〃　Provalov　observed。
　〃Wasn't　the　Bureau　that　did　it；〃　Reilly　responded。　The　Russians　would　be　touchy　about　having　Americans　provide　them　with　such　sensitive　information。　Maybe　Americans　would　have　reacted　the　same　way。　〃Anyway；　what　are　you　going　to　do　about　it？〃
　〃We're　trying　to　locate　his　electronic　correspondents。　We　have　their　addresses；　and　they　are　all　on　Russian…owned　ISPs。　FSS　probably　has　them　all　identified　by　now。〃
　〃Arrest　them　when？〃
　〃When　they　meet　Suvorov。　We　have　enough　to　make　the　arrests　now。〃
　Reilly　wasn't　sure　about　that。　The　people　Suvorov　wanted　to　meet　could　always　say　that　they　came　to　see　him　by　invitation　without　having　a　clue　as　to　the　purpose　of　the　meeting；　and　a　day…old　member　of　the　bar　could　easily　enough　sell　the　〃reasonable　doubt〃　associated　with　that　to　a　jury。　Better　to　wait　until　they　all　did　something　incriminating；　and　then　squeeze　one　of　them　real　hard　to　turn　state's　evidence　on　the　rest。　But　the　rules　and　the　juries　were　different　here。
　
　Anatoliy；　what　are　you　thinking　about？〃　Golovko　asked。　〃rade　Chairman；　I　am　thinking　that　Moscow　has　suddenly　bee　dangerous；〃　Major　Shelepin　replied。　〃The　idea　of　former　Spetsnaz　men　conspiring　to　mit　treason　on　this　scale　sickens　me。　Not　just　the　threat；　but　also　the　infamy　of　it。　These　men　were　my　rades　in　the　army；　trained　as　I　was　to　be　guardians　of　the　State。〃　The　handsome　young　officer　shook　his　head。
　〃Well；　when　this　place　was　the　KGB；　it　happened　to　us　more　than　once。　It　is　unpleasant；　yes；　but　it　is　reality。　People　are　corruptible。　It　is　human　nature；〃　Golovko　said　soothingly。　Besides；　the　threat　isn't　against　me　now；　he　didn't　add。　An　unworthy　thought；　perhaps；　but　that　also　was　human　nature。　〃What　is　President　Grushavoy's　detail　doing　now？〃
　〃Sweating；　I　should　imagine。　Who　can　say　that　this　is　the　only　threat？　What　if　this　Kong　bastard　has　more　than　one　such　agent　in　Moscow？　We　should　pick　him　up；　too。〃
　〃So　we　shall；　when　the　time　es。　He's　been　observed　to　do　only　one　dead…drop　over　the　past　week；　and　we　control　that　one…yes；　yes；　I　know；〃　Sergey　added；　when　he　saw　the　beginnings　of　Anatoliy's　objections。　〃He　isn't　the　only　MSS　operative　in　Moscow；　but　he's　probably　the　only　one　on　this　case。　Security　considerations　are　universal。　They　must　worry　that　one　of　their　officers　might　be　in　our　employ；　after　all。　There　are　many　wheels　in　such　an　operation；　and　they　don't　all　turn　in　the　same　direction；　my　young　friend。　You　know　what　I　miss？〃
　〃I　should　imagine　it　is　having　the　second　chief　directorate　under　the　same　roof。　That　way　the　operation　would　be　run　cooperatively。〃
　Golovko　smiled。　〃Correct；　Anatoliy　Ivan'ch。　For　now；　we　can　only　do　our　job　and　wait　for　others　to　do　theirs。　And；　yes；　waiting　is　never　an　entertaining　way　to　spend　one's　time。〃　With　that　observation；　both　men　resumed　staring　at　the　desk　phones；　waiting　for　them　to　ring。
　
　The　only　reason　that　surveillance　hadn't　been　tightened　any　more　was　that　there　wasn't　enough　room　for　the　additional　personnel；　and　Suvorov　might　take　note　of　the　thirty　people　who　followed　him　everywhere。　That　day　he　awoke　at　his　normal　hour；　washed　up；　had　coffee　and　kasha　for　breakfast；　left　the　apartment　building　at　9：15；　and　drove　his　car　into　the　city；　with　a　good　deal　of　elusive　pany。　He　parked　his　car　two　blocks　from　Gor'kiy　Park　and　walked　the　rest　of　the　way　there。　So　did　four　others；　also　under　surveillance。　They　met　at　a　magazine　kiosk　at　precisely　9：45　and　walked　together　toward　a　coffee　shop　that　was　disagreeably　crowded；　too　much　so　for　any　of　the　watchers　to　get　close　enough　to　listen　in；　though　the　faces　were　observed。　Suvorov/Koniev　did　most　of　the　talking；　and　the　other　four　listened　intently；　and　nods　started。
　Yefremov　of　the　Federal　Security　Service　kept　his　distance。　He　was　senior　enough　that　he　could　no　longer　guarantee　that　his　face　was　unknown；　and　had　to　trust　the　more　junior　men　to　get　in　close；　their　earpieces　removed　and　radio　transmitters　turned　off；　wishing　they　could　read　lips　like　the　people　in　spy　movies。
　For　Pavel　Georgiyevich　Yefremov；　the　question　was；　what　to　do　now？　Arrest　them　all　and　risk　blowing　the　case…or　merely　continue　to　shadow；　and　risk　having　them　go　forward　。　。　。　and　perhaps　acplish　the　mission？
　The　question　would　be　answered　by　one　of　the　four　contacts。　He　was　the　oldest　of　them；　about　forty；　a　Spetsnaz　veteran　of　Afghanistan　with　the　Order　of　the　Red　Banner　to　his　name。　His　name　was　Igor　Maximov。　He　held　up　his　hand；　rubbing　forefinger　and　thumb；　and；　getting　the　answer　to　his　question；　he　shook　his　head　and　politely　took　his　leave。　His　departure　was　a　cordial　one；　and　his　personal　two…man　shadow　team　followed　him　to　the　nearest　Metro　station　while　the　others　continued　talking。
　On　learning　this；　Yefremov　ordered　him　picked　up。　That　was　done　when　he　got　off　the　Metro　train　five　kilometers　away　at　the　station　near　his　flat；　where　he　lived　with　his　wife　and　son。　The　man　did　not　resist　and　was　unarmed。　Docile　as　a　lamb；　he　acpanied　the　two　FSS　officers　to　their　headquarters。
　〃Your　name　is　Maximov；　Igor　Il'ych；〃　Yefremov　told　him。　〃You　met　with　your　friend　Suvorov；　Klementi　Ivan'ch；　to　discuss　participation　in　a　crime。　We　want　to　hear　your　version　of　what　was　discussed。〃
　〃rade　Yefremov；　I　met　some　old　friends　for　coffee　this　morning　and　then　I　left。　Nothing　in　particular　was　discussed。　I　do　not　know　what　you　are　talking　about。〃
　〃Yes；　of　course；〃　the　FSS　man　replied。　〃Tell　me；　do　you　know　two　former　Spetsnaz　men　like　yourself；　Amalrik　and　Zimyanin？〃
　〃I've　heard　the　names；　but　I　don't　know　the　faces。〃
　〃Here　are　the　faces。〃　Yefremov　handed　over　the　photos　from　the　Leningrad　Militia。　〃They　are　not　pleasant　to　look　upon。〃
　Maximov　didn't　blanch；　but　he　didn't　look　at　the　photos　with　affe