cc.fireice-第17部分

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gers　in　the　car；　which　identified　it　as　a　dolmus；　meaning　〃stuffed〃　in　Turkish。　Unlike　the　regular　cabs；　these　taxis　crammed　in　as　many　passengers　as　they　could　fit。
　
　Austin　got　into　the　backseat　with　two　other　passengers　who　made　space　between　them。　A　heavyset　man　sat　on　a　jump　seat　and　a　fifth　passenger　occupied　the　front　seat　next　to　the　meter。　Austin　told　the　driver　to　take　him　to　the　Taksim　Square。　He　had　visited　Istanbul　several　times　on　NUMA　assignments　and　knew　the　city　fairly　well。　When　the　cab　went　a　roundabout　route；　Austin　thought　it　was　simply　to　acmodate　the　other　passengers。　But　nobody　got　off。　The　cab　started　to　head　away　from　Taksim　Square　and；　suspecting　the　driver　was　trying　to　jack　up　the　fare；　Austin　leaned　forward　and　asked　him　where　he　was　going。
　
　The　driver　stared　silently　ahead；　but　the　man　in　the　front　seat　turned　around。　He　had　a　wide；　brutish　face　that　even　a　mother　couldn't　love。　Austin's　eyes　lingered　on　the　passenger's　features　for　only　a　second　before　shifting　to　the　gun　in　the　man's　hand。
　
　〃Silence！〃　the　man　growled。　The　men　sitting　next　to　Austin　pulled　him　back　by　the　shoulders。　A　long…bladed　knife　pointed　at　his　right　eye。　The　cab　accelerated　at　neck…snapping　speed；　exited　from　the　traffic　stream　and　plunged　into　a　dark　maze　of　narrow　cobblestone　lanes。
　
　They　headed　away　from　the　waterfront；　skirting　Karakoy　and　the　police　squads　who　monitored　the　official　red…light　district。　Austin　glanced　longingly　at　the　restaurant　lights　at　the　top　of　Galata　Tower。　Then　the　taxi　was　moving　along　the　Istikal　Caddesi；　weaving　in　and　out　of　traffic；　past　the　nightclubs；　movie　theaters　and　unregulated　brothels　that　lined　the　gaudy　strip。　The　cab　spun　off　the　main　drag　and　climbed　a　hill　into　Bozoglu；　where　all　the　old　European　embassies　were　housed　during　the　Ottoman　Empire；　and　executed　a　series　of　squealing　turns。
　
　The　car　stayed　upright　despite　the　protesting　tires；　which　told　Austin　that　the　driver　was　a　professional　who　knew　the　limits　of　his　vehicle。　There　had　been　no　attempt　to　blindfold　Austin；　and　he　wondered　if　this　meant　he　had　a　one…way　ticket　to　oblivion。　As　the　car　continued　to　hook　left　and　right　through　the　urban　warren；　he　concluded　that　a　blindfold　was　unnecessary；　he　didn't　have　a　clue　where　he　was。
　
　The　fact　that　they　hadn't　killed　him　offered　slim　solace。　He　knew　instinctively　that　these　men　would　not　hesitate　to　use　the　weapons　they　had　brandished　in　his　face。　After　several　minutes；　during　which　the　city　lights　faded　to　a　glow；　the　car　whipped　down　a　darkened；　garbage…strewn　street　and　into　an　alley　not　much　wider　than　the　vehicle。　Austin's　panions　hustled　him　from　the　taxi　and　stood　him　against　a　brick　wall　while　they　bound　his　hands　behind　his　back　with　duct　tape。　Then　they　pushed　him　through　a　doorway　along　a　dim　hall　and　into　the　lobby　of　an　old　office　building。　Grime　covered　the　marble　floor。　On　one　wall　was　a　brass　floor　directory　black　with　the　patina　of　age。　The　smell　of　onions　and　the　muffled　cry　of　a　baby　indicated　that　the　office　building　was　being　used　for　human　habitation。　Probably　squatters；　Austin　surmised。
　
　His　escorts　nudged　Austin　into　an　elevator　and　stood　behind　him。　They　were　hulking　men；　as　big　or　brawnier　than　Austin；　who　had　never　considered　himself　to　be　a　pigmy。　The　space　was　cramped；　and　Austin　stood　with　his　face　pressed　against　the　cold　wrought　iron　of　the　ornate　gate。　He　guessed　that　the　elevator　must　date　back　to　the　time　of　the　sultans。　He　tried　not　to　think　of　frayed　and　neglected　cables　as　the　elevator　slowly　jerked　and　rattled　up　to　the　third　and　last　floor。　The　elevator　was　more　nerve…wracking　than　the　speeding　car。　The　elevator　cracked　to　a　stop；　and　one　of　his　escorts　growled　in　his　ear。
　
　〃Out！〃　He　stepped　into　a　dark　hallway。　One　man　grabbed　the　back　of　Austin's　shirt　in　a　bunch；　used　it　to　steer　him　for…　ward　and　brake　him　to　an　abrupt　stop。　A　door　opened；　and　he　was　maneuvered　inside。　There　was　the　odor　of　old　paper　and　oil　from　long…ago　business　machines。　He　felt　pressure　upon　his　shoulders；　then　the　edge　of　a　chair　bumped　against　the　back　of　his　knees。　He　sat　down　and　squinted　into　the　darkness。　A　spotlight　flashed　on；　and　Austin　saw　sunspots　as　the　glare　hit　him　in　the　face。　He　blinked　like　a　suspect　being　given　the　third　degree　in　an　old　gangster　movie。
　
　A　voice　speaking　in　English　came　from　behind　the　spotlight。
　
　〃Wele；　Mr。　Austin。　Thank　you　for　ing。〃　Something　about　the　voice　sounded　familiar；　but　he　couldn't　place　it。
　
　〃It　was　an　invitation　I　couldn't　resist。〃
　
　A　dry　chuckle　issued　from　the　darkness。　〃The　years　haven't　changed　you；　have　they？〃
　〃Do　I　know　you？〃　A　memory　clawed　at　the　back　of　Austin's　mind　like　a　cat　scratching　softly　at　the　door。
　
　〃I'm　hurt　that　you　don't　remember　me。　I　wanted　to　thank　you　in　person　for　the　lovely　bouquet　of　flowers　you　sent　to　hasten　my　convalescence。　I　believe　you　signed　the　card　with　the　name　of　John　Doe。〃
　
　Austin　was　stunned。　〃I'll　be　damned！〃　he　said；　with　a　curious　mixture　of　delight　and　foreboding。　〃Ivan！〃
　
　…9…
　THE　SPOTLIGHT　SNAPPED　off　and　a　portable　table　lamp　came　on；　illuminating　the　face　of　a　man　in　his　forties。　He　had　a　broad　forehead　and　high　cheekbones　and　would　have　been　handsome　if　not　for　the　massive　scar　defacing　his　right　cheek。
　
　〃Don't　be　alarmed；　Mr。　Austin；〃　Petrov　said。　〃I'm　not　the　Phantom　of　the　Opera。〃
　
　Austin's　mind　flashed　back　fifteen　years　to　the　Barents　Sea。　He　remembered　the　frigid　waters　penetrating　his　heated　dry　suit　as　he　activated　the　timer　on　two　hundred　pounds　of　explosives。　It　was　a　miracle　the　Russian　was　still　alive。
　
　〃Sorry　about　the　booby　trap；　Ivan。　Can't　say　I　didn't　warn　you　to　stay　clear。〃
　〃No　apology　necessary。　Simply　a　misfortune　of　war。〃　He　paused；　then　said；　〃I've　wondered　something　for　long　time。　Suppose　our　places　had　been　reversed。　Would　you　have　listened　to　a　warning　from　me？〃
　
　After　a　moment's　reflection；　Austin　said；　〃I　might　have　assumed；　like　you；　that　the　warning　was　a　diversion。　I'd　like　to　think　discretion　would　have　won　over　valor；　but　I　can't　say　for　sure。　It　was　a　long　time　ago。〃
　〃Yes；　it　was　a　very　long　time　ago。〃　Petrov's　lips　widened　in　a　sad　smile。　〃Obviously；　discretion　did　not　rule　over　my　youthful　impatience。　I　was　impetuous　in　those　days。　Don't　worry；　I　bear　you　no　animosity　for　the　fruits　of　my　own　foolishness。　I　would　have　killed　you　long　ago　if　I　thought　you　were　entirely　to　blame。　As　I　said；　c'est　la　guerre。　In　a　sense　you　are　as　disfigured　as　I　am；　only　you　can't　see　the　scars　that　cover　your　heart。　The　war　made　hard　men　out　of　both　of　us。〃
　〃I　recall　hearing　that　the　Cold　War　is　over。　I　have　a　suggestion。　Why　not　ask　your　friends　to　give　us　a　lift　to　the　bar　at　the　Palace　Hotel？　We　can　talk　about　old　times　over　a　drink。〃
　〃In　time；　Mr。　Austin。　In　time。　We　have　a　matter　of　grave　importance　to　discuss。〃　Petrov's　voice　had　gained　a　businesslike　edge；　and　his　eyes　drilled　into　Austin's　face。　〃I　would　like　to　know　what　you　were　doing　at　the　abandoned　Soviet　submarine　base　on　the　Black　Sea。〃
　〃Seems　I　was　naпve　to　think　our　brief　visit　went　unnoticed。〃
　〃Not　at　all。　It's　a　desolate　part　of　the　coast。　Under　normal　circumstances；　you　could　have　landed　a　division　of　Marines　without　detection。　We've　kept　the　area　under　surveillance　for　months；　but　we　were　caught　off　guard。　We　know　from　intercepted　radio　messages　that　you　landed　some　sort　of　air…　craft　and　that　the　NUMA　ship　came　in　to　pick　you　up。　Please　tell　me　what　you　were　doing　on　Russian　territory。　Take　your　time。　I'm　in　no　hurry。〃
　〃I'll　be　glad　to　fill　you　in。〃　Austin　squirmed　in　his　chair。　〃It　might　help　my　memory　if　I　weren't　sitting　on　my　wrists。　How　about　loosening　the　tape？〃
　
　Petrov　thought　briefly；　then　nodded。　〃I　consider　you　a　dangerous　man；　Mr。　Austin。　Please　don't　try　anything　foolish。〃
　
　Petrov　gave　a　sharp　order　in　Russian。　Someone　came　up　from　behind。　Austin　felt　a　cold　blade　against　his　wrists　and　the　tape　was　severed　in　a　single　swipe。
　
　〃Now　for　your　story；　Mr。　Austin。〃
　
　Austin　massaged　the　circulation　back　into　his　arms。　〃I　was　on　the　NUMA　survey　ship　Argo；　conducting　a　study　of　wave　action　in　the　Black　Sea。　Three　American　television　people　were　supposed　to　rendezvous　with　our　ship；　but　they　had　heard　about　the　old　sub　base　before　they　sailed　from　Istanbul；　and　decided　to　check　it　out　without　notifying　us　of　their　change　in　plans。　They　were　overdue　and　I　went　looking　for　them。　Some　men　on　shore　murdered　a　Turkish　fisherman　who　was　bringing　the　TV　people　to　shore；　and　attempted　to　kill　them；　too。〃
　〃Tell　me　about　these　killers。〃
　〃There　were　about　a　dozen　of　them；　on　horseback；　and　wearing　Cossack　uniforms。　They　even　carried　swords　and　old　rifles　…　really　old。〃
　〃Then　what　happened？〃
　
　Austin　laid　out　a　detailed　narrative　of　the　fight。　Petrov　listened　impassively；　although　from　his　experience　with　Austin's　resourcefulness；　he　was　not　surprised　at　the　way　the　battle　had　ended。
　
　〃An　ultralight；〃　Petrov　said；　with　a　chuckle。　〃An　ingenious　tactic　using　your　flare　gun。〃
　
　Austin　shrugged。　〃I　was　lucky。　They　were　using　antique　weapons。　Otherwise　my　story　would　not　have　a　happy　Hollywood　ending。〃
　〃You　couldn't　have　known　from　the　air　that　they　were　using　old　rifles。　I　assume　you　must　have　landed。〃
　〃In　a　manner　of　speaking。　Old　or　not；　those　rifles　made　a　sieve　out　of　my　plane's　wings。　I　crash…landed　on　the　beach。〃
　〃What　did　you　see　besides　the　weapons？　Every　detail；　please。〃
　〃We　found　the　body　of　one　of　the　attackers　behind　the　sand　dune。〃
　〃He　was　dressed　like　the　others？〃
　〃That's　right。　Fur　hat；　baggy　pants。　I　found　this　on　one　of　them。〃　He　reached　into　his　pocket　and　dug　out　the　emblem　he　had　taken　from　the　dead　Cossack's　hat。
　
　Petrov　studied　the　pin　without　expression　and　passed　it　to　one　of　his　men。　〃Go　on；〃　he　said。
　
　〃After　I　confirmed　that　the　TV　people　were　okay；　I　called　my　ship　in。　They　picked　us　up；　and　we　left　as　soon　as　we　were　able。〃
　〃We　found　no　evidence　of　a　body　or　weapons；〃　Petrov　said。
　〃I　don't　know　what　happened　to　the　body。　Maybe　his　friends　came　back　after　we　left；　and　tidied　up。　We　took　the　weapons　with　us。〃
　〃That's　larceny；　Mr。　Austin。〃
　〃I　prefer