tc.thebearandthedragon-第92部分

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ections　of　private　conversations　between　one　guy　who　makes　policy　and　another　guy　who　tries　to　influence　policy。　A　lot　of　stuff　is　being　left　out。　This　looks　like　a　cover…your…ass　diary；　doesn't　it？〃
　Ryan　told　himself　that　this　was　a　particularly　smart　critique。　Like　the　people　at　Langley；　he'd　allowed　himself　to　wax　a　little　too　euphoric　about　a　source　they'd　never　even　approached　before。　SONGBIRD　was　good；　but　not　without　limitations。　Big　ones。
　〃Yeah；　Rob；　that's　probably　just　what　it　is。　This　Fang　guy　probably　keeps　the　diary　just　to　have　something　to　pull　out　of　the　drawer　if　one　of　his　colleagues　on　the　Chinese　Politburo　tries　to　butt…fuck　him。〃
　〃So；　it　isn't　Sir　Thomas　More　whose　words　we're　reading；〃　TOMCAT　observed。
　〃Not　hardly；〃　Ryan　conceded。　〃But　it's　a　good　source。　All　the　people　who've　looked　at　this　for　us　say　it　feels　very　real。〃
　〃I'm　not　saying　it　isn't　true；　Jack；　I'm　saying　it　isn't　all；〃　the　Vice　President　persisted。
　〃Message　received；　Admiral。〃　Ryan　held　up　his　hands　in　surrender。　〃What　do　you　remend？〃
　〃SecDef　for　starters；　and　the　Chiefs；　and　J…3　and　J…5；　and　probably　CINCPAC；　your　boy　Bart　Mancuso；〃　Jackson　added；　with　a　hint　of　distaste。
　〃Why　don't　you　like　the　guy？〃　SWORDSMAN　asked。
　〃He's　a　bubble…head；〃　the　career　fighter　pilot　answered。　〃Submariners　don't　get　around　all　that　much　。　。　。　but　I　grant　you　he's　a　pretty　good　operator。〃　The　submarine　operation　he'd　run　on　the　Japs　using　old　boomers　had　been　pretty　swift；　Jackson　admitted　to　himself。
　〃Specific　remendations？〃
　〃Rutledge　tells　us　that　the　Chims　are　talking　like　they're　real　torqued　over　the　Taiwan　thing。　What　if　they　act　on　that？　Like　a　missile　strike　into　the　island。　Christ　knows　they　have　enough　missiles　to　toss；　and　we　have　ships　in　harbor　there　all　the　time。〃
　〃You　really　think　they'd　be　dumb　enough　to　launch　an　attack　on　a　city　with　one　of　our　ships　tied　alongside？〃　Ryan　asked。　Nasty　or　not；　this　Zhang　guy　wasn't　going　to　risk　war　with　America　quite　that　foolishly；　was　he？
　〃What　if　they　don't　know　the　ship's　there？　What　if　they　get　bad　intel？　Jack；　the　shooters　don't　always　get　good　data　from　the　guys　in　the　back　room。　Trust　me。　Been　there；　done　that；　got　the　fucking　scars；　y'know？〃
　〃The　ships　can　take　care　of　themselves；　can't　they？〃
　〃Not　if　they　don't　have　all　their　systems　turned　on；　and　can　a　Navy　SAM　stop　a　ballistic　inbound？〃　Robby　wondered　aloud。　〃I　don't　know。　How　about　we　have　Tony　Bretano　check　it　out　for　us？〃
　〃Okay；　give　him　a　call。〃　Ryan　paused。　〃Robby；　I　have　somebody　ing　in　a　few　minutes。　We　need　to　talk　some　more　about　this。　With　Adler　and　Bretano；〃　the　President　added。
　〃Tony's　very　good　on　hardware　and　management　stuff；　but　he　needs　a　little　educating　on　operations。〃
　〃So；　educate　him；〃　Ryan　told　Jackson。
　〃Aye；　aye；　sir。〃　The　Vice　President　headed　out　the　door。
　
　They　got　the　container　back　to　its　magnetic　home　less　than　two　hours　after　removing　it；　thanking　God…Russians　were　allowed　to　do　that　now…that　the　lock　mechanism　wasn't　one　of　the　new　electronic　ones。
　Those　could　be　very　difficult　to　break。　But　the　problem　with　all　such　security　measures　was　that　they　all　too　often　ran　the　chance　of　going　wrong　and　destroying　that　which　they　were　supposed　to　protect；　which　only　added　plexity　to　a　job　with　too　much　plexity　already。　The　world　of　espionage　was　one　in　which　everything　that　could　go　wrong　invariably　did；　and　so　over　the　years；　every　way　of　simplifying　operations　had　been　adopted　by　all　the　players。　The　result　was　that　since　what　worked　for　one　man　worked　for　all；　when　you　saw　someone　following　the　same　procedures　as　your　own　intelligence　officers　and　agents；　you　knew　you　had　a　player　in　your　sights。
　And　so　the　stakeout　on　the　bench　was　renewed…of　course　it　had　never　been　withdrawn；　in　case　Suvorov/Koniev　should　appear　unexpectedly　while　the　transfer　case　was　gone　off　to　the　lab…with　an　ever…changing　set　of　cars　and　trucks；　plus　coverage　in　a　building　with　a　line…of…sight　to　the　bench。　The　Chinese　subject　was　being　watched；　but　no　one　saw　him　set　a　telltale　for　the　dead…drop。　But　that　could　be　as　simple　as　calling　a　number　for　Suvorov/Koniev's　beeper　。。。　but　probably　no；　since　they'd　assume　that　every　phone　line　out　of　the　Chinese　embassy　was　bugged；　and　the　number　would　be　captured　and　perhaps　traced　to　its　owner。　Spies　had　to　be　careful；　because　those　who　chased　after　them　were　both　resourceful　and　unrelenting。　That　fact　made　them　the　most　conservative　of　people。　But　difficult　to　spot　though　they　might　be；　once　spotted　they　were　usually　doomed。　And　that；　the　FSS　men　all　hoped；　would　be　the　case　with　Suvorov/Koniev。
　In　this　case；　it　took　until　after　nightfall。　The　subject　left　his　apartment　building　and　drove　around　for　forty　minutes；　following　a　path　identical　to　one　driven　two　days　before…probably　checking　to　see　if　he　had　a　shadow；　and　also　to　check　for　some　telltale　alert　the　FSS　people　hadn't　spotted　yet。　But　this　time；　instead　of　driving　back　to　his　flat；　he　came　by　the　park；　parked　his　car　two　blocks　from　the　bench；　and　walked　there　by　an　indirect　route；　pausing　on　the　way　twice　to　light　a　cigarette；　which　gave　him　ample　opportunity　to　turn　and　check　his　back。　Everything　was　right　out　of　the　playbook。　He　saw　nothing；　though　three　men　and　a　woman　were　following　him　on　foot。　The　woman　was　pushing　a　baby　carriage；　which　gave　her　the　excuse　to　stop　every　so　often　to　adjust　the　infant's　blanket。　The　men　just　walked；　not　looking　at　the　subject　or；　so　it　seemed；　anything　else。
　〃There！〃　one　of　the　FSS　people　said。　Suvorov/Koniev　didn't　sit　on　the　bench　this　time。　Instead　he　rested　his　left　foot　on　it；　tied　his　shoelace；　and　adjusted　his　pants　cuff。　The　pickup　of　the　holder　was　acplished　so　skillfully　that　no　one　actually　saw　it；　but　it　seemed　rather　a　far…fetched　coincidence　that　he　would　pick　that　particular　spot　to　tie　his　shoes…and　besides；　one　of　the　FSS　men　would　soon　be　there　to　see　if　he'd　replaced　one　holder　with　another。　With　that　done；　the　subject　walked　back　to　his　car；　taking　a　different　circuitous　route　and　lighting　two　more　American　Marlboros　on　the　way。
　The　amusing　part；　Lieutenant　Provalov　thought；　was　how　obvious　it　was　once　you　knew　whom　to　look　at。　What　had　once　been　anonymous　was　now　as　plain　as　an　advertising　billboard。
　〃So；　now　what　do　we　do？〃　the　militia　lieutenant　asked　his　FSS　counterpart。
　〃Not　a　thing；〃　the　FSS　supervisor　replied。　〃We　wait　until　he　places　another　message　under　the　bench；　and　then　we　get　it；　decode　it；　and　find　out　what　exactly　he's　up　to。　Then　we　make　a　further　decision。〃
　〃What　about　my　murder　case？〃　Provalov　demanded。
　〃What　about　it？　This　is　an　espionage　case　now；　rade　Lieutenant；　and　that　takes　precedence。〃
　Which　was　true；　Oleg　Gregoriyevich　had　to　admit　to　himself。　The　murder　of　a　pimp；　a　whore；　and　a　driver　was　a　small　thing　pared　to　state　treason。
　
　His　naval　career　might　never　end；　Admiral　Joshua　Painter；　USN　（Ret。）；　thought　to　himself。　And　that　wasn't　so　bad　a　thing；　was　it？　A　farm　boy　from　Vermont；　he'd　graduated　the　Naval　Academy　almost　forty　years　earlier；　made　it　through　Pensacola；　then　gotten　his　life's　ambition；　flying　jets　off　aircraft　carriers。　He'd　done　it　for　the　next　twenty　years；　plus　a　stint　as　a　test　pilot；　manded　a　carrier　air　wing；　then　a　carrier；　then　a　group；　and　finally　topped　out　as　SACLANT/CINCLANT/CINCLANTFLT；　three　very　weighty　hats　that　he'd　worn　fortably　enough　for　just　over　three　years　before　removing　the　uniform　forever。　Retirement　had　meant　a　civilian　job　paying　about　four　times　what　the　government　had；　mainly　consulting　with　admirals　he'd　watched　on　the　way　up　and　telling　them　how　he　would　have　done　it。　In　fact；　it　was　something　he　would　have　done　for　free　in　any　officers'　club　on　any　Navy　base　in　America；　maybe　for　the　cost　of　dinner　and　a　few　beers　and　a　chance　to　smell　the　salt　air。
　But　now　he　was　in　the　Pentagon；　back　on　the　government　payroll；　this　time　as　a　civilian　supergrade　and　special　assistant　to　the　Secretary　of　Defense。　Tony　Bretano；　Josh　Painter　thought；　was　smart　enough；　a　downright　brilliant　engineer　and　manager　of　engineers。　He　was　prone　to　look　for　mathematical　solutions　to　problems　rather　than　human　ones；　and　he　tended　to　drive　people　a　little　hard。　All　in　all；　Bretano　might　have　made　a　decent　naval　officer；　Painter　thought；　especially　a　nuc。
　His　Pentagon　office　was　smaller　than　the　one　he'd　occupied　as　OP…05…Assistant　Chief　of　Naval　Operations　for　Air…ten　years　earlier；　a　job　since　de…established。　He　had　his　own　secretary　and　a　smart　young　mander　to　look　after　him。　He　was　an　entry…port　to　the　SecDef's　office　for　a　lot　of　people；　one　of　whom；　oddly　enough；　was　the　Vice　President。
　〃Hold　for　the　Vice　President；〃　a　White　House　operator　told　him　on　his　private　line。
　〃You　bet；〃　Painter　replied。
　〃Josh；　Robby。〃
　〃Good　morning；　sir；〃　Painter　replied。　This　annoyed　Jackson；　who'd　served　under　Painter　more　than　once；　but　Josh　Painter　wasn't　a　man　able　to　call　an　elected　official　by　his　Christian　name。　〃What　can　I　do　for　you？〃
　〃Got　a　question。　The　President　and　I　were　going　over　something　this　morning；　and　I　didn't　have　the　answer　to　his　question。　Can　an　Aegis　intercept　and　kill　a　ballistic　inbound？〃
　〃I　don't　know；　but　I　don't　think　so。　We　looked　at　that　during　the　Gulf　War　and…oh；　okay；　yeah；　I　remember　now。　We　decided　they　could　probably　stop　one　of　those　Scuds　because　of　its　relatively　slow　speed；　but　that's　the　top　end　of　their　ability。　It's　a　software　problem；　software　on　the　SAM　itself。〃　Which　was　the　same　story　for　the　Patriot　missiles　as　well；　both　men　then　remembered。　〃Why　did　that　one　e　up？〃
　〃The　President's　worried　that　if　the　Chinese　toss　one　at　Taiwan　and　we　have　a　ship　alongside；　well；　he'd　prefer　that　the　ship　could　look　after　herself；　y'know？〃
　〃I　can　look　into　that；〃　Painter　promised。　〃Want　me　to　bring　it　up　with　Tony　today？〃
　〃That's　affirmative；〃　TOMCAT　confirmed。
　〃Roger　that；　sir。　I'll　get　back　to　you　later　today。〃
　〃Thanks；　Josh；〃　Jackson　replied；　hanging　up。
　Painter　checked　his　watch。　It　was　about　time　for　him　to　head　in　anyway。　The　walk　took　him　out　into　the　busy　E…Ring　corridor；　then　right　again　into　the　SecDef's　office；　past　the　security　people　and　the　various　private　secretaries　and　aides。　He　was