tc.thebearandthedragon-第9部分

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　all　would　be　a　cigarette　smoked　by　the　driver　or　the　shooter；　since　the　FBI　could　DNA…match　the　residual　saliva　on　that　to　anyone；　which　was　one　of　the　Bureau's　best　new　tricks　（six…hundred…million…to…one　odds　were　hard　for　people　to　argue　with；　even　highly　paid　defense　attorneys）。　One　of　Reilly's　pet　projects　was　to　bring　over　the　DNA　technology　for　the　Russian　police　to　use；　but　for　that　the　Russians　would　have　to　front　the　cash　for　the　lab　gear；　which　would　be　a　problem　…　the　Russians　didn't　seem　to　have　the　cash　for　anything　important。　All　they　had　now　was　the　remainder　of　the　RPG　warhead　…　it　was　amazing　how　much　of　the　things　actually　did　survive　launch　and　detonation　…　which　had　a　serial　number　that　was　being　run　down；　though　it　was　doubtful　that　this　bit　of　information　would　lead　anywhere。　But　you　ran　them　all　down　because　you　never　knew　what　was　valuable　and　what　was　not　until　you　got　to　the　finish　line；　which　was　usually　in　front　of　a　judge's　bench　with　twelve　people　in　a　box　off　to　your　right。　Things　were　a　little　different　here　in　Russia；　procedurally　speaking；　but　the　one　thing　he　was　trying　to　get　through　to　the　Russian　cops　he　counseled　was　that　the　aim　of　every　investigation　was　a　conviction　They　were　getting　it；　slowly　for　most；　quickly　for　a　few；　and　also　getting　the　fact　that　kicking　a　suspects　balls　into　his　throat　was　not　an　effective　interrogation　technique。　They　had　a　constitution　in　Russia；　but　public　respect　for　it　still　needed　growing；　and　it　would　take　time。　The　idea　of　the　rule　of　law　in　this　country　was　as　foreign　as　a　man　from　Mars。
　The　problem；　Reilly　thought；　was　that　neither　he　nor　anyone　else　knew　how　much　time　there　was　for　Russians　to　catch　up　with　the　rest　of　the　world。　There　was　much　here　to　admire；　especially　in　the　arts。　Because　of　his　diplomatic　status；　Reilly　and　his　wife　often　got　plimentary　tickets　to　concerts　（which　he　liked）　and　the　ballet　（which　his　wife　loved）；　and　that　was　still　the　class　of　the　world。。。　but　the　rest　of　the　country　had　never　kept　up。　Some　at　the　embassy；　some　of　the　older　CIA　people　who'd　been　here　before　the　fall　of　the　USSR；　said　that　the　improvements　were　incredible。　But　if　that　were　true；　Reilly　told　himself；　then　what　had　been　here　before　must　have　been　truly　dreadful　to　behold；　though　the　Bolshoi　had　probably　still　been　the　Bolshoi；　even　then。
　〃That　is　all？〃　Tanya　Bogdanova　asked　in　the　interrogation　room。
　〃Yes；　thank　you　for　ing　in。　We　may　call　you　again。〃
　〃Use　this　number；〃　she　said；　handing　over　her　business　card。　〃It's　for　my　cellular　phone。〃　That　was　one　more　Western　convenience　in　Moscow　for　those　with　the　hard　currency；　and　Tanya　obviously　did。
　The　interrogator　was　a　young　militia　sergeant。　He　stood　politely　and　moved　to　get　the　door　for　her；　showing　Bogdanova　the　courtesy　she'd　e　to　expect　from　men。　In　the　case　of　Westerners；　it　was　for　her　physical　attributes。　In　the　case　of　her　countrymen；　it　was　her　clothing　that　told　them　of　her　newfound　worth。　Reilly　watched　her　eyes　as　she　left　the　room。　The　expression　was　like　that　of　a　child　who'd　expected　to　be　caught　doing　something　naughty；　but　hadn't。　How　stupid　father　was；　that　sort　of　smile　proclaimed。　It　seemed　so　misplaced　on　the　angel…face；　but　there　it　was；　on　the　other　side　of　the　mirror。
　〃Oleg？〃
　〃Yes；　Misha？〃　Provalov　turned。
　〃She's　dirty；　man。　She's　a　player；〃　Reilly　said　in　English。　Provalov　knew　the　cop…Americanisms。
　〃I　agree；　Misha；　but　I　have　nothing　to　hold　her　on；　do　I？〃
　〃I　suppose　not。　Might　be　interesting　to　keep　an　eye　on　her；　though。〃
　〃If　I　could　afford　her；　I　would　keep　more　than　my　eye　on　her；　Mikhail　Ivan'ch。〃
　Reilly　grunted　amusement。　〃Yeah；　I　hear　that。〃
　〃But　she　has　a　heart　of　ice。〃
　〃That's　a　fact；〃　the　FBI　agent　agreed。　And　the　game　in　which　she　was　a　player　was　at　best　nasty；　and　at　its　worst；　lethal。
　
　
　So；　what　do　we　have？〃　Ed　Foley　asked；　some　hours　later　across　the　river　from　Washington。
　〃Gornischt　so　far；〃　Mary　Pat　replied　to　her　husband's　question。
　〃Jack　wants　to　be　kept　up　to　speed　on　this　one。〃
　〃Well；　tell　the　President　that　we're　running　as　fast　as　we　can；　and　all　we　have　so　far　is　from　the　Legal　Attaché。　He's　in　tight　with　the　local　cops；　but　they　don't　seem　to　know　shit　either。　Maybe　somebody　tried　to　kill　Sergey　Nikolay'ch；　but　the　Legat　says　he　thinks　Rasputin　was　the　real　target。
　〃I　suppose　he　had　his　share　of　enemies；〃　the　Director　of　Central　Intelligence　conceded。
　
　
　Thank　you；〃　the　Vice　President　concluded　to　the　packed　house　at　the　Ole　Miss　field　house。　The　purpose　of　the　speech　was　to　announce　that　eight　new　destroyers　would　be　built　in　the　big　Litton　shipyard　on　the　Mississippi　Gulf　Coast；　which　meant　jobs　and　money　for　the　state；　always　items　of　concern　for　the　governor；　who　was　now　standing　and　applauding　as　though　the　Ole　Miss　football　team　had　just　knocked　off　Texas　at　the　Cotton　Bowl。　They　took　their　sports　seriously　down　here。　And　their　politics；　Robby　reminded　himself；　stifling　a　curse　for　this 　tawdry　profession　that　was　so　much　like　medieval　bargaining　in　a　village　square；　three　good　pigs　for　a　cow　or　something；　toss　in　a　mug　of　bitter　ale。　Was　this　how　one　governed　a　country？　He　grinned　as　he　shook　his　head。　Well；　there　had　been　politics　in　the　Navy；　too；　and　he'd　scaled　those　heights；　but　he'd　done　it；　by　being　one　hell　of　a　good　naval　officer；　and　the　best　fucking　fighter　pilot　ever　to　catapult　off　a　flattop。　On　the　last　score；　of　course　he　knew　hat　every　fighter　pilot　sitting　and　waiting　for　the　cat　shot　felt　exactly　the　same　way。。。　it　was　just　that　he　was　totally　correct　in　his　self…assessment。
　There　were　the　usual　hands　to　shake　ing　off　the　platform；　guided　by　his　Secret　Service　detail　in　their　dark；　forbidding　shades；　then　down　the　steps　and　out　the　back　door　to　his　car；　where　another　squad　of　armed　men　waited；　their　vigilant　eyes　looking　ever　outward；　like　the　gunners　on　a　B…17　over　Schweinfurt　must　have　done；　the　Vice　President　thought。　One　of　them　held　open　the　car　door；　and　Robby　slid　in。
　〃TOMCAT　is　rolling；〃　the　chief　of　the　VP　detail　told　his　microphone　as　the　car　headed　off。
　Robby　picked　up　his　briefing　folder　as　the　car　got　onto　the　highway　for　the　airport。　〃Anything　important　happening　in　D。C。？〃
　〃Not　that　they've　told　me　about；〃　the　Secret　Service　agent　answered。
　Jackson　nodded。　These　were　good　people　looking　after　him。　The　detail　chief；　he　figured；　was　a　medium…to…senior　captain；　and　the　rest　of　his　troops　j。g。's　to　lieutenant　manders；　which　was　how　Robby　treated　them。　They　were　underlings；　but　good　ones；　well…trained　pros　who　merited　the　smile　and　the　nod　when　they　did　things　right；　which　they　nearly　always　did。　They　would　have　made　good　aviators；　most　of　them　…　and　the　rest　probably　good　Marines。　The　car　finally　pulled　up　to　the　VC…20B　jet　in　an　isolated　corner　of　the　general…aviation　part　of　the　airport；　surrounded　by　yet　more　security　troops。　The　driver　stopped　the　car　just　twenty　feet　from　the　foot　of　the　self…extending　stairs。
　〃You　going　to　drive　us　home；　sir？〃　the　detail　chief　asked；　suspecting　the　answer。
　〃Bet　your　ass；　Sam〃　was　the　smiling　reply。
　That　didn't　please　the　USAF　captain　detailed　to　be　co…pilot　on　the　aircraft；　and　it　wasn't　all　that　great　for　the　lieutenant　colonel　supposed　to　be　the　pilot…in…mand　of　the　modified　Gulfstream　III。　The　Vice　President　liked　to　have　the　stick　　in　his　case　the　yoke　…　in　his　hands　at　all　times；　while　the　colonel　worked　the　radio　and　monitored　the　instruments。　The　aircraft　spent　most　of　its　time　on　autopilot；　of　course；　but　Jackson；　right　seat　or　not；　was　determined　to　be　the　mand　pilot　on　the　flight；　and　you　couldn't　very　well　say　no　to　him。　As　a　result；　the　captain　would　sit　in　the　back　and　the　colonel　would　be　in　the　left　seat；　but　jerking　off。　What　the　hell；　the　latter　thought；　the　Vice　President　told　good　stories；　and　was　a　fairly　petent　stick　for　a　Navy　puke。
　〃Clear　right；〃　Jackson　said；　a　few　minutes　later。
　〃Clear　left；〃　the　pilot　replied；　confirming　the　fact　from　the　plane…walker　in　front　of　the　Gulfstream。
　〃Starting　One；〃　Jackson　said　next；　followed　thirty　seconds　later　by　〃Starting　Two。〃。
　The　ribbon　gauges　came　up　nicely。　〃Looking　good；　sir；〃　the　USAF　lieutenant　colonel　reported。　The　G　had　Rolls…Royce　Spey　engines；　the　same　that　had　once　been　used　on　the　U。K。　versions　of　the　F…4　Phantom　fighter；　but　somewhat　more　reliable。
　〃Tower；　this　is　Air　Force　Two；　ready　to　taxi。〃
　〃Air　Force　Two；　Tower；　cleared　to　taxiway　three。〃
　〃Roger；　Tower　AF…Two　taxiing　via　three。〃　Jackson　slipped　the　brakes　and　let　the　aircraft　move；　its　fighter　engines　barely　above　idle；　but　guzzling　a　huge　quantity　of　fuel　for　all　that。　On　a　carrier；　Jackson　thought；　you　had　plane　handlers　in　yellow　shirts　to　point　you　around。　Here　you　had　to　go　according　to　the　map/diagram　…　clipped　to　the　center　of　the　yoke　…　to　the　proper　place；　all　the　while　looking　around　to　make　sure　some　idiot　in　a　Cessna　172　didn't　stray　into　your　path　like　a　stray　car　in　the　supermarket　parking　lot。　Finally；　they　reached　the　end　of　the　runway；　and　turned　to　face　down　it。
　〃Tower；　this　is　Spade　requesting　permission　to　take　off。〃　It　just　sort　of　came　out　on　its　own。
　A　laughing　reply：　〃This　ain't　the　Enterprise；　Air　Force　Two；　and　we　don't　have　cat　shots　here；　but　you　are　cleared　to　depart；　sir。〃
　You　could　hear　the　grin　in　the　reply：　〃Roger；　Tower；　AF…Two　is　rolling。〃
　〃Your　call　sign　was　really　‘Spade'？〃　the　assigned　mand　pilot　asked　as　the　VC…20B　started　rolling。
　〃Got　hung　on　by　my　first　CO；　back　when　I　was　a　new　nugget。　And　it　kinda　stuck。〃　The　Vice　President　shook　his　head。　〃Jesus；　that　seems　like　a　long　time　ago。〃
　〃V…One；　sir；〃　the　Air　Force　officer　said　next；　followed　by　〃V…R。〃
　At　velocity…rotation；　Jackson　eased　back　on　the　yoke；　bringing　the　aircraft　off　the　ground　and　into　the　air。　The　colonel　retracted　the　landing　gear　on　mand；　while　Jackson　flipped　the　wheel　half　an　inch　left　and　right；　rocking　the　wings　a　little　as　he　always　did　to　make　sure　the　aircraft　was　willing　to　do　what　he　told　it。　It　was；　and　inside　of　three　minutes；　the　G　was　on　autopilot；　programmed　to　turn；　climb；　and　level　out　at　thirty…nine　thousand　feet。
　〃Boring；　isn't　it？〃
　〃Just　another　word　for　safe；　sir；〃　the　USAF　officer　replied。
　Fuc