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第38章

scoonts.theminotaur-第38章

小说: scoonts.theminotaur 字数: 每页4000字

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 The women applauded wildly and the passengers joined in。
 They parked the cars in the lot outside of Rita's apartment plex and Toad carried her bags in。 He had followed her home from Dulles。 They kissed in the elevator and they kissed in front of the door。 A giggling; happy Rita used her key。
 When the door swung open a young woman on the couch in front of the television shrieked。 She had her hair in curlers and was wearing only bra and panties。 Toad got an eyeful of skin as she scurried for the bedroom。
 〃Don't mind Harriet;〃 Rita said。 〃I do the same for her on alternate Saturdays when she brings her boyfriend by。〃
 Toad grinned and nodded。 He stood in the center of the living room and glanced about while Rita lugged her bags toward the bedroom。 〃Need any help?〃
 〃No; I'll manage。 Make yourself fortable。〃 In a moment she called from the bedroom; 〃There's probably Coke in the fridge。〃
 Toad sagged fortably into the couch the roommate had recently vacated。 Aha; a remote control for the TV。 He nipped around the dial until he found a basketball game and settled his feet upon the settee。 Knowing women as he did; he knew he had a while to wait。
 〃Who's the hunk?〃 Harriet demanded of Rita in the bedroom。
 〃A friend。〃
 〃What about Ogden? He's called twice this week wanting to know when you'd be home。 I told him you'd call him this evening。〃 Ogden was an attorney at a large Washington law firm whom Rita had been dating。
 Rita opened her suitcase on the bed and began to empty it。 She separated her dirty clothes from the clean ones; working quickly。
 〃I'll call Ogden tomorrow。〃
 Harriet eased the bedroom door open and peeked at Toad sprawled on the couch。 〃He's a live one; all right。〃 she said after she had eased the door shut again。 〃Navy?〃
 〃Yep。〃
 Harriet sat cross…legged on her bed。 〃Are you sure about this; Rita? Ogden's a pretty great guy。 He's athletic; rich parents; good future; madly in…〃
 〃He wasn't the one。 I'm sure。〃
 Harriet pounced。 〃And this guy? Is he the one?〃
 〃Maybe。〃 Rita removed the pins that held her hair against the back of her head and shook it out。 〃He might be。 He almost got away。〃 She grinned and attacked her hair with a brush。 〃Reeled him in on the plane this afternoon。〃
 〃This afternoon?〃
 〃And I'm going over to his apartment to spend the night。〃
 Harriet flopped back on her bed and pointed her legs at the ceiling; toes extended。 〃Well; no one can say you're just jumping right into bed with him。 My God; you've stifled your hormones and female appetites for an entire afternoon。。。 it's positively Victorian。 This will set the sexual revolution back a hundred years if it gets out。〃 She lowered her legs and propped her head on one arm。 〃Why not let it cool off a quarter of a degree; Rita? A week。。。〃
 Rita Moravia shook her head。
 〃You've got it bad; huh?〃
 〃Yep。〃
 
 〃Luis;〃 his wife called from the top of the stairs。 〃Harlan is here。〃
 〃Send him down。〃
 Mrs。 Camacho smiled at her next…door neighbor and said; 〃He's in the basement watching a basketball game。 As usual。〃
 〃I thought he might be;〃 Harlan said; smiled and descended the staircase。
 〃Hey; Harlan。 Great game。 Boston College and West Virginia。 BCs ahead by a bucket。〃
 〃Do you men want a beer?〃 Mrs。 Camacho calling down from the kitchen。
 〃Thanks anyway; honey。〃 They heard her close the door at the top of the stairs。
 Harlan Albright sank into a chair near Camacho。 He extracted a pack of Marlboros from his pocket and lit one。 〃Catching any spies?〃
 〃Got Matilda Jackson's photos back from the lab yesterday afternoon。 She's got one of Vasily Pochinkov; the assistant agricultural whosis at the embassy。 So we've burned him。 I'm trying to get surveillance approved。 And sure enough; Mrs。 Jackson had Franklin's drop message。 The puter guys should decide it's the Pentagon by tomorrow。〃
 〃Better tell me all of it。〃 Albright stared at the television as Camacho went through the initial interview with Mrs。 Jackson and her attorney; the lab report; the interview with Mrs。 Jackson today at her house。 When Camacho was finished; Albright lit another cigarette。 〃Is there a crack house across the street?〃
 〃Apparently。 One of my men was going to check the D。C。 police mug books。 We'll have names and rap sheets by tomorrow; probably。〃
 〃But there's no way to tie this in with the crack gang?〃
 〃You know there isn't。〃
 〃Did Mrs。 Jackson ever see Franklin?〃 Luis Camacho rubbed his chin thoughtfully。 〃I'm not sure。 She may have and doesn't remember。 She said she'd think about it。〃
 〃What do you think?〃
 〃How many times has he been to that drop?〃
 〃Five。〃
 He considered。 〃I think she's probably seen him;〃 he said at last。 〃Whether she could pick him out of a lineup or mug book; I don't know。〃
 〃Where will you be if your boss asks you why you haven't tried that; once the Pentagon angle is nailed down?〃
 〃I'll look like an inpetent。 I'll have to bring her in to go over the photo books to cover myself。〃
 〃When?〃
 〃Maybe next week。 Maybe the week after。 They'll want to evaluate。 At first they're going to be interested in Pochinkov。 For a day or two。 Then they'll get interested in Mrs。 Jackson again。〃
 〃Pochinkov is a dead end。〃
 〃They'll e to that conclusion。 Bigelow; my boss; has no background in counterespionage; but he's a smart man。 Hell drool over Pochinkov for a day or two; toy with the idea of trapping and turning him; then eventually decide that we can't spare the manpower to watch him day and night forever。 Of course; the National Security Council could decide to try to catch him servicing a drop just so we can kick him out of the country; but you probably have a better feel for that than I。〃
 A wry grin twisted Albright's lips。 The implication was that Albright knew whether or not the Soviets were going to pick up an American diplomat in Moscow anytime soon; knowledge that Camacho well knew Albright would never have。 So even here; in the safety and fort of his own den; Camacho was stroking the ego of his control。 He did it unconsciously; without even thinking。 No wonder Luis Camacho had done so well in the FBI。
 〃How e you guys had a drop in that neighborhood anyway?〃
 〃It was on the approved list。〃 Albright shrugged。 The paper pushers in Moscow had no appreciation of the dynamics of an American neighborhood; how fast it could evolve or erode。 The approval of drop sites was one method Soviet intelligence bureaucrats used to justify their salaries; but Albright wasn't going to explain that to Camacho。 He had learned early in his career that a wise man never plains about things he can't change; especially to an agent he needed to keep loyal and motivated。
 Still; Luis Camacho wasn't like other agents。 Albright had been running him now for over ten years; but it was only in the last few years; when the source the Americans called the Minotaur had surfaced and within months Camacho had had the serendipitous good fortune to be assigned to head the Washington; D。C。; FBI counterespionage department; that Camacho had bee a Soviet treasure。
 Tonight as he stared at the ballet of black men on the television screen; Albright reflected again on that chain of events。 After a high…profile black…tie affair in the ballroom of a Washington hotel; the Soviet ambassador had discovered a picture postcard in his coat pocket as his limousine returned him to the embassy。 On the front of the card was a photo of the Pentagon at night。 On the back were two words and a series of numbers and letters…a puter file name…all written in block letters。 Below that were ten words; not a message; just words。 Nothing else。 No fingerprints except the ambassador's。
 It had been enough。 Using Terry Franklin; the Soviets had obtained engineering and performance data on the new U。S。 Air Force stealth fighter; the F…117A; from the Pentagon puter system。 The information appeared genuine。 So who was the source? Unmasking the source would undoubtedly reveal why the information was passed and enable the Soviet intelligence munity to properly evaluate its authenticity。 But the official guest list for the black…tie reception ran to over three hundred names and was almost a Who's Who of official Washington。 The names of spo

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