按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
It wasn't so much the handwritten message as the printed header： STATE SECURITY OFFICIAL MUNICATION。
Damn。 His wife's lips mouthed the word。
The Moscow COS nodded thoughtfully。
〃Can you watch the burgers； honey？ I have to get something。〃
Ed took the spatula and flipped one over。 His wife was back quickly； holding a kelly green tie。
CHAPTER 11 … HAND JIVE
Of course； there was little to be done at the moment。 Dinner was served and eaten； and Eddie went back to his VCR and cartoon tapes。 Four…year…olds were easy to please； even in Moscow。 His parents got down to business。 Years ago； they'd seen The Miracle Worker on TV； in which Annie Sullivan （Anne Bancroft） taught Helen Keller （Patty Duke） the use of the manual alphabet； and they'd decided it was a useful skill to learn as a means of municating not quickly but quietly and with their own shorthand。
W＇ell＇； what do ＇yo＇u think？ Ed asked Mary。
This could b＇e＇ pretty h＇ot＇； his wife replied。
Y＇ep＇。
Ed； this guy works in MERCURY； th＇eir＇ version anyway！ Wow！
More likely he just has access to their mess＇age＇ forms； the Chief of Station cautioned slowly。 But I'll wear the green tie and take the same subway train for the next w＇eek＇ or so。
FAB； his wife agreed； which was shorthand for Fuckin' A； Bubba！
Hope it isn't a trap or a false…flag； Ed observed。
Part of the terr＇itory＇； h＇oney＇； MP responded。 The thought of being burned didn't frighten her； though she didn't want to suffer the embarrassment。 She looked for opportunities more than her husband did…he worried more。 But； strangely； not this time。 If the Russians had 〃made〃 him as the Chief of Station or even just as a field spook…not likely； Ed thought…they'd be total idiots to burn him like this； not this fast and not this amateurishly。 Unless they were trying to make some sort of political point； and he couldn't see the logic of that…and the KBG was as coldly logical as Mr。 Spock ever was on planet Vulcan。 Even the FBI wouldn't play this loose a game。 So this opportunity had to be real； unless KGB was shaking down every embassy employee it could； just to see what might fall off the tree。 Possible； but damned unlikely； and therefore worth the gamble； Foley judged。 He'd wear the green tie and see what happened； and be damned careful to check all the faces on the subway car。
Tell L＇angley＇？ Mary asked next。
He just shook his head。 2 early 4 that。
She nodded agreement。 Next； Mary Pat mimed riding a horse。 That meant that there was a chase and they were really in the game； finally。 It was as though she were afraid that her skills were going stale。 Damned little chance of that； her husband thought。 He was willing to bet that his wife had gone all the way through parochial school without a single rap on the knuckles； because the sisters had never once caught her misbehaving。。。
And； for that matter； Ed reflected； neither had he。
W＇ell＇； tomor＇row＇ will be inter＇esting＇； he told her； getting a sexy nod as a reply。
The hard part for the rest of the evening was not dwelling on the opportunity。 Even with their training； their thoughts kept ing back to the idea of working an agent in the Russian MERCURY。 It was a conceptual homer in the bottom of the ninth in the seventh game of the World Series…Reggie Jackson Foley as Mister October。
Damn。
〃So； Simon； what do we really know about the guy？〃
〃Not all that much on the personal level；〃 Harding admitted。 〃He's a Party man first； last； and always。 His horizons have been broadened； I suppose； from his chairmanship of KGB。 There's talk that he prefers Western liquor to his own vodka； and stories that he enjoys American jazz； but those could be stories floated in…house by The Centre to help him appear amenable to the West…not bloody likely； in my humble opinion。 The man is a thug。 His Party record is not one of gentleness。 One doesn't advance in that organization except by toughness…and remarkably often the highflyers are men who have crushed their own mentors along the way。 It's a Darwinian organization gone mad； Jack。 The fittest survive； but they prove themselves to be the fittest by smashing those who are a threat to them； or merely smashing people to prove their own ruthlessness in the arena they've chosen。〃
〃How smart is he？〃 Ryan asked next。
Another draw on the briar pipe。 〃He's no fool。 Highly developed sense of human nature； probably a good…even a brilliant…amateur psychologist。〃
〃You haven't pared him to someone from Tolstoy or Chekhov；〃 Jack noted。 Simon was a lit major； after all。
Harding dismissed the thought。 〃Too easy to do so。 No； people like him most often do not appear in literature； because novelists lack the requisite imagination。 There was no warning of a Hitler in German literature； Jack。 Stalin evidently thought himself another Ivan the Terrible； and Sergei Eisenstein played along with his epic movie about the chap； but that sort of thing is only for those without the imagination to see people as they are instead of being like someone else they understand。 No； Stalin was a plex and fundamentally inprehensible monster； unless you have psychiatric credentials。 I do not；〃 Harding reminded him。 〃One need not understand them fully to predict their actions； because such people are rational within their own context。 One need only understand that； or so I have always believed。〃
〃Sometimes I think I ought to get Cathy involved in this work。〃
〃Because she's a physician？〃 Harding asked。
Ryan nodded。 〃Yeah； she's pretty good reading people。 That's why we had the docs report in on Mikhail Suslov。 None of them were pshrinks；〃 Jack reminded his workmate。
〃So； no； we know remarkably little on Andropov's personal life；〃 Harding admitted。 〃No one's ever been tasked to delve too deeply into it。 If he gets elevated to the General…Secretaryship； I imagine his wife will bee a semipublic figure。 In any case； there's no reason to think him a homosexual or anything like that。 They are quite intolerant of that aberration over there； you know。 Some colleague would have used it against him along the way and wrecked his career for fair。 No； the closet they live in within the Soviet Union is a very deep one。 Better to be celibate；〃 the analyst concluded。
Okay； Ryan thought； I'll call the Admiral tonight and tell him that the Brits don't know； either。 It was strangely disappointing； but somehow predictable。 For all that the intelligence services knew； the frequency of holes in their knowledge was often surprising to the outsiders； but not so to those on the inside。 Ryan was still new enough at the game to be surprised and disappointed。 A married man would be used to promise； to letting his wife have her way on all manner of things； because every married man is pussy…whipped to one extent or another…unless he is a total thug； and few people fit into that category。 Fewer still could rise up any hierarchy that way； because in any organization you had to go along in order to get along。 That was human nature； and even the munist Party of the Soviet Union couldn't repeal that； for all their talk about the New Soviet Man that they kept trying to build over there。 Yeah； Ryan thought； sure。
〃Well；〃 Harding said； checking his watch； 〃I think we've served Her Majesty enough for one day。〃
〃Agreed。〃 Ryan stood up and collected his jacket off the clothes tree。 Take the tube this time to Victoria Station； and catch the Lionel home。 The routine was getting to him。 It would have been better to get a place in town and cut down the mute； but that way Sally wouldn't have much in the way of green grass to play on； and Cathy had been adamant about that。 Renewed proof that he was indeed pussy…whipped； Jack thought on the way to the elevator。 Well； it could have been worse。 He did have a good wife to do the whipping； after all。
Colonel Bubovoy came back to the embassy on his way home from the airport。 A short dispatch was waiting； which he quickly decrypted： He'd be working through Colonel Rozhdestvenskiy。 No particular surprise there。
Aleksey Nikolay'ch was Andropov's lapdog。 And that was probably a good job； the rezident thought。 You just had to keep the boss happy； and Yuriy Vladimirovich