el.angeleyes-第96部分

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　〃That's　just　it！〃　Mars　said　hotly。　〃Americans　have　no　idea　how　anything　works；　not　politics；　not　economics；　not　even　social　dynamics…especial　not　social　dynamics。　They're　far　too　busy　rooting　around　Bloomingdale's　and　Tiffany's　to　be　of　any　value　to　their　fellow　man。''
　〃Like　Khrushchev；　you　want　to　bury　them；　rade。〃　
　〃No；　Captain；　not　bury　them；〃　Mars　said。　〃I　want　to　eradicate　them。〃
　〃Then　you've　set　yourself　an　impossible　task。〃　
　Mars　looked　at　him。　〃Do　you　really　think　so？　That's　interesting；　ing　from　a　scholar　of　history。　Rome　fell；　so　did　Byzantium。　Why　not　America？〃
　〃To　be　brutal；　rade；　because　it　is　not　Democracy　that　has　been　found　deficient　as　a　form　of　government；　but　munism。　The　theories　of　Marx　and　Engels　are　simply　inadequate。　It's　a　fact；　sad　though　it　may　be　to　contemplate。　Poland；　Hungary；　Rumania；　Czechoslovakia；　East　Germany。　We've　had　to　relinquish　control　of　our　colonies　as　the　Western　nations　were　once　obliged　to　do　with　theirs。
　〃And　why　not？　Desperate　men　must　resort　to　desperate　measures。　Our　own　economy　is　in　a　shambles；　we　cannot　even　feed　our　own　people；　corruption　and　alcoholism　are　rampant　throughout　a　bureaucracy　that　is　second　to　none　in　its　bloatedness；　self…importance；　and　obstructionism。　We　simply　have　to　face　facts。　The　path　we　have　set　out　on　is　a　dead　end。〃
　〃And　where　are　we　to　go　then？〃　Mars　said　fiercely。　〃Where　will　it　end？　With　a　Bloomingdale's　and　Tiffany's　opening　on　Gorky　Street？　With　our　women　wearing　designer　blue　jeans　and　sequined　jackets？''　His　face　was　livid。　''That　is　not　the　solution；　to　lose　ourselves　in　the　mania　of　Americanization。　I　reject　that　despicable　notion！〃
　〃In　the　days　of　the　ancient　Britons；〃　Captain　Nikolev　said；　〃the　lure　of　Rome　was　irresistible。　It　was　an　endlessly　fascinating　place。〃
　〃A　pit　full　of　quicksand；〃　Mars　said。　〃There's　the　truth。〃
　〃If　only；〃　Nikolev　said　with　an　ironic　tone；　〃we　could　recognize　it。〃　His　eyes　darted　to　the　electronic　console　he　was　manning。
　〃What　is　it；　Captain？〃
　〃Irina　Ponomareva's　car；〃　Nikolev　said。　〃It's　begun　to　move。〃
　When　Irina　got　to　Valeri's　apartment；　she　circled　the　block　three　times；　cruising　slowly；　doing　what　Valeri　had　advised　her；　looking　for　KGB　men　who　might　be　staked　out；　watching　the　place。
　〃If　they　have　spared　anybody　at　all；　it　won't　be　more　than　one　man；〃　he　had　told　her。　〃They　know　I'm　not　stupid　enough　to　try　to　get　back　there。〃
　In　any　event；　Irina　used　a　great　deal　of　caution。　She　parked　around　the　back；　went　into　the　rear　entrance　of　the　building　next　door　and　down　into　the　cellar。　Valeri　had　told　her　that　his　building　and　the　one　next　to　it　had　once　been　one；　and　the　cellars　still　connected。
　Ten　minutes　later　Irina　emerged　into　the　hallway　of　Valeri's　building。
　She　stood　quietly　in　the　open　doorway　to　the　fire　stairs；　slowing　her　breathing；　trying　to　listen　for　small　sounds　beyond　the　pumping　of　her　heart。　Her　eyes　were　open　all　the　way　around　and　their　pupils　were　fully　dilated。
　Someone　came　out　of　his　apartment；　and　Irina　ducked　back　into　the　stairwell。　She　could　smell　boiled　cabbage　and　stale　tobacco。　The　door　closed；　a　key　turned；　and　heavy　footfalls　sounded　in　the　corridor。　The　elevator　whined；　opened；　closed；　whined　again；　descending　to　the　lobby。
　Stillness　creeping　like　shadows　with　the　movement　of　the　sun　across　the　afternoon　sky。
　There　were　no　dezhumayas　in　either　of　these　buildings；　snoops　who；　in　years　gone　by；　would　keep　track　of　everyone　and　everything　going　in　and　out。　Unofficial　adjuncts　to　the　KGB。　Some　things；　at　least；　had　finally　changed　in　Moscow。
　From　where　she　stood；　Irina　could　see　Valeri's　front　door。　It　looked　all　right。　Closed。　Just　as　she　had　left　it。　But　was　that　an　illusion？　Mars's　people　must　have　been　through　the　place；　if　only　to　be　thorough；　searching　for　clues　to　Valeri's　whereabouts。
　KGB。　Keep　calm。
　Irina　shuddered；　and　for　a　moment　her　resolve　wavered。　She　could　just　turn　around；　go　down　the　stairs　to　the　basement；　cross　over；　and　leave　via　the　building　next　door。　Simple。　No　one　would　know　that　she　had　even　e　near　the　place。
　But　the　fact　was　it　wasn't　so　simple。　Freedom　was　a　plex　issue；　one　that；　she　saw　now；　she　had　been　obsessed　with　ever　since　she　had　returned　from　Cambridge。　How　could　she　turn　her　back　on　freedom　now？
　If　she　turned　away；　where　would　she　go？　Back　to　her　apartment　to　wait　for　Mars　Volkov　to　find　her　and　debrief　her　about　her　conversations　with　Odysseus？　What　would　she　do　when　Mars　was　finished　with　her？　Return　to　her　drone…like　job　at　the　Ministry　of　Education？　No；　no。　She　could　not　go　back。　She　would　choke　to　death　on　her　own　despair。　Her　feet　were　set　on　this　new　path；　and　she　knew　that　she　must　follow　it　to　its　end　or　she　would　never　be　able　to　live　with　herself。　The　other　side　of　the　mirror　was　too　tantalizing；　too　filled　with　wonders　for　her　ever　to　contemplate　stepping　back。
　Irina　stood　trembling　with　fear　as　she　inhaled　the　smells　of　the　building。　The　elevator　hummed；　on　its　way　toward　another　assignation　on　another　floor。　A　baby　cried。　A　radio　played　a　snatch　of　martial　music；　then　was　still。
　Gathering　her　courage　like　a　cloak　around　her；　Irina　ventured　into　the　hallway。　She　went　quickly　to　Valeri's　door；　slid　her　key　into　the　lock；　turned　it。　She　closed　her　hand　over　the　knob　and；　turning　it；　let　herself　into　the　apartment。
　She　knew　immediately　that　people　had　been　here。　The　stillness　was　the　same　as　when　she　had　been　here　before；　but　there　were　smells　lingering　in　the　air；　half…remembered　reminders：　a　whiff　of　body　odor　in　the　dusty　air　of　the　hallway；　a　hint　of　cheap　tobacco　in　the　stale　air　of　the　bedroom。　She　saw　no　butts　anywhere；　and　she　did　not　notice　anything　out　of　place。　Whoever　had　been　in　here；　searching；　had　been　circumspect。
　Irina　held　her　breath　until　she　reached　the　kitchen。　But　there　it　was；　the　illegal　Toshiba　lap…top；　sitting　fortably　where　it　had　always　been；　on　the　corner　of　the　chopping　block。
　Crossing　the　kitchen　Irina　slammed　down　the　top　of　the　puter；　unplugged　the　cord　from　the　current　converter；　stuffed　both　into　the　puter's　carrying　case；　then　fit　the　puter　itself　in；　zipped　the　case　closed。
　She　had　just　grabbed　the　case　by　its　soft　handles　when　she　heard　the　scrabbling　sounds　at　the　front　door。　Her　blood　froze　in　her　veins。　The　contents　of　her　stomach　threatened　to　return　to　her　mouth。
　KGB。　Keep　calm。
　Mary；　Mother　of　God！
　Irina　looked　around　her。　I'm　trapped；　she　thought。　Then；　No！　The　window！
　She　threw　open　the　kitchen　window；　ducked；　stepped　quickly　out　onto　the　fire　escape。　She　turned；　shut　the　window　behind　her；　stood　with　her　back　against　the　filthy　concrete　and　brick　facade　of　the　building。　Below　her　was　Telegraph　Street。　Irina　closed　her　eyes；　imagining　herself　kneeling　in　the　sanctuary　of　the　nearby　Church　of　the　Archangel　Gabriel。　She　was　there；　as　a　child　with　her　mother；　inhaling　the　heady　incense；　hearing　voices　raised　in　prayer；　listening　to　the　inprehensible　sacraments。　If　only　she　could　turn　back　time　。。。
　Her　eyes　flew　open　as　she　heard　a　voice　say；　''Is　there　any　evidence　that　she　was　here？''
　〃The　front　door　was　unlocked。　Captain。〃
　〃Search　the　apartment。''
　Irina　turned　her　head；　strained　to　get　an　oblique　look　through　the　windowpane。　In　a　moment　she　saw　a　young　good…looking　man　in　a　gray　uniform　with　red　accents。　Valeri　in　the　dankness　of　the　crypt　saying。　Mars　is　out　for　my　blood。　He's　mobilized　the　KGB　Border　Guards　to　find　me。
　How　did　they　find　me？　Irina　asked　herself。　Was　I　followed　or　were　they　watching　the　apartment？　I　thought　I　had　been　so　careful。　Oh；　God；　how　stupid　I　am。
　〃She's　already　left。　Captain。〃
　〃Why　did　she　e　here？〃
　Silence
　〃Is　anything　missing？〃
　〃Just　the　puter；　Captain。〃
　〃Ah；〃　the　young　uniformed　man　said。　〃The　puter。''　He　turned　away　from　the　window。　〃Find　her；〃　Irina　could　hear　him　say。　〃If　she　slips　by　us；　rade　Volkov　will　have　the　lot　of　you　reassigned　to　Sinkiang。''
　KGB。　Keep　calm。
　How　many　of　them　are　there？　Irina　wondered；　shaking　with　terror。　They're　like　ants　crawling　over　a　picnic　blanket。　I've　got　to　get　off　the　blanket　before　they　eat　me　alive。
　When　she　could　no　longer　see　anyone　through　the　kitchen　window；　Irina　began　to　climb　down　along　the　rusting　catwalks。　At　any　moment　she　expected　shouts　to　be　raised　as　one　of　the　Border　Guards　contingent　spotted　her。　But　nothing　happened。
　She　gained　the　ground　without　incident。　The　Toshiba　puter　pulled　at　her　left　arm。　If　only　I　can　make　it　to　the　car；　she　thought；　I'll　be　all　right。
　She　went　along　Telegraph　Street；　fearful　that　someone　would　wonder　what　it　was　she　was　lugging　around　with　her。
　It　had　begun　to　rain。　Instead　of　heading　directly　for　the　car；　Irina　sought　shelter。　She　stood；　hidden　within　the　deep　shadows　of　a　building　doorway；　the　Toshiba　tucked　behind　her　legs；　invisible　to　anyone　passing　by。　She　watched　the　street　with　frightened；　haunted　eyes。　She　could　feel　the　bars　across　her　moon；　heading　downward　to　close　around　her。　She　could　feel　the　arctic　cold　of　the　winter　that　never　ended；　bones　strewn　across　a　bleak　field　of　ice；　frozen　Siberian　tundra　catching　the　snow　as　it　silently　fell　from　a　featureless　sky。　Her　nightmare　taking　shape　around　her。
　Irina　scrutinized　the　faces　of　everyone　who　passed　by。　She　peered　into　rain…streaked　car　windows。　Everyone　was　a　potential　enemy；　and　she　thought；　It's　happening　to　me；　so　soon；　so　soon。　I　have　bee　afraid　of　everything　and　everyone。　Must　this　be　the　price　of　freedom？　Haven't　I　any　other　choice？
　Thunder　rolled　through　the　canyons　of　the　city；　and　it　became　as　dark　as　midnight。　Once　or　twice　a　flash　of　lightning　lit　the　street　in　a　sickly；　colorless　burst　of　energy；　making　Irina　start　nervously。
　It　was　pouring。　The　KGB　must　be　nearby；　she　knew；　and　she　suspected　that　the　longer　she　remained　in　the　area；　the　greater　her　chance　was　of　getting　picked　up。　Such　was　her　anxiety　and　single…mindedness；　it　never　occurred　to　her　to　ditch　the　Toshiba　in　the　nearest　trashcan。　Besides；　even　she　knew　that　making　a　run　for　it　on　foot　now　would　be　foolish。　The　KGB　would　spot　her　within　minutes。
　The　car　was　her　only　salvation。　Once　she　was　in　it　she　could　blend　into　traffic；　take　back　streets；　shortcuts；　be　able　to　double　back　on　hersel