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！
idle time when he had nothing to do but wait。 Movement or stillness。 Dark and light。 They were all that existed for him。 And Alix Logan。
Staring at her often brought the thought of Gelda to mind but that was； of course； pointless。 He could not contact her in any way。 He must remain dead in order to stay buried near Alix Logan； undetected and unmolested。 It was a difficult enough task to shadow someone； it was all but impossible to do it when someone was trying to ice you。
Bristol。 How may times during those long； cramped hours of waiting had he worked the name around on his tongue。 His real name had faded out； an image in an old and bleached photo album that was long ago and far away。
He had bee 〃Tex〃 Bristol and that was how he thought of himself now； just as everyone around him who knew him did。 There was only one person in the world who knew he had not died in the flaming car crash that night and she would never tell。 He had had just enough money left to get him up to San Antonio。 He had known Marie a long time ago in New York。 They had been on opposite sides of the law then。 Now； he was not so sure of where either of them stood。
But she was smart and tough and she knew everyone。 She had provided him with medical service and the paraphernalia of his new identity： birth certificate； social security card； driver's license； even a passport； slightly worn； franked several times for Europe and Asia。 He thought that a nice touch even though he didn't think he'd need it。 He'd taken the passport anyway； along with thirty thousand in cash。
Marie had asked no questions and when he had offered no explanations she went on to other matters。 She even seemed pleased to see him。 Back in New York they had worked each other to a Mexican standoff； it had been the first time for each of them and they had learned from it。 You could even say they liked each other； after a fashion。
When he left； Bristol knew that he owed her more than he could ever repay。
〃Sir？〃
The penetrating ebon eyes lifted up into the pale mauve light； and shadows skittered about the bare walls of the room like kittens chasing each other。
〃What is it？〃 The voice was more than brusque； it contained within its guttural growl a definite tinge of disdain that caused the young lieutenant who had e into the room to feel somehow diminished； as if he were in the presence of a being more than human。
It was a calculated tone but no less effective for that。 Artifice； thought the man now as he accepted the young lieutenant's presence； nodding him forward； ruled the world。 A careful daily grooming of his voice kept things running smoothly at the safe house。
It was his experience that one could many times give the merest outline of fear and one's adversary…whether it be this young lieutenant eager for promotion or one of the old guard back home… supplied all the rest。 It left one free to pursue more pressing matters。
〃The latest printouts from Sakhov IV； sir；〃 the young uniformed lieutenant said； handing over a sheaf of graph paper。
〃And how many passes have we here； Lieutenant？〃 Viktor Protorov； head of the Ninth Directorate of the KGB； said。
〃Just over a half dozen； sir。〃
〃I see。〃 Protorov's gaze lowered to the sheaf。 He could feel the slight relaxing of the man in front of him。 〃And what； if anything； does this mass hold for me； Lieutenant？〃
〃I don't know； sir。〃
〃Oh； e now。〃 Protorov looked up。 He tapped the sheet with a rather long nail。 〃A new batch of highly classified printouts from Sakhov IV； what our government publicly…calls a 'digital imaging reconnaissance satellite；〃 centering on that section of the Pacific Ocean between the Kuriles and where we are in the north of Hokkaido； an area we have been concentrating on for…how many months now？…〃
〃Seven since we moved from the aerodrome in Iturup。〃
〃…es in。 If you haven't taken a good； hard look at these； Lieutenant； you're either stupid or inpetent。〃 Protorov leaned back in his chair。 'Tell me； are you either of these？〃
For a moment the young man said nothing； he had begun to sweat beneath his superior's intense gaze and questioning。 〃You put me in a most untenable position； sir。 If I say yes； then my career in the Directorate is finished。 If I say no； then it is obvious that I have deliberately lied to my superior。〃
〃Well； Lieutenant； if the day ever es when you are captured by the Capitalist enemy； then you can be quite certain that they； too； will put you in an untenuous position。〃
They had been conversing in English。 〃Excuse me； sir；〃 the young lieutenant said； 〃but that's 'untenable；' not 'untenuous。'〃
〃Answer the question；〃 Protorov said； beginning to sift through the visual data provided by Sakhov IV's immensely powerful infrared video equipment。 An involuntary chill went through him at the thought that the Americans might have such a potent weapon。 He was only slightly cheered by the knowledge that his country's land…based antisatellite lasers could…and had in recent days past… bring down the threat。
He got to the third sheet。 〃Time's running out。 It's a sure bet the Americans won't give you this long。〃
〃You won't find what we've been looking for in those；〃 the lieutenant said at last； as if with one long breath all the air had gone out of his lungs。
Protorov's gaze stripped him bare。 〃Then you have looked at these。〃
〃Sir； security regulations require that the O。D。 bring all Passionate documents to me first for verification。〃
〃Passionate〃 was the rather ironic term Protorov had coined for highest…priority matter circulating within the Directorate。 〃Sneak peekies； you mean；〃 Protorov grumbled。 He lifted a hand。 〃All right。 I hope you do as well with the Americans if your day ever es。〃
〃I am more frightened of you than of the Americans； sir。〃
〃Then learn to be frightened of them； Lieutenant。〃 His gaze lifted again。 〃Because they mean to destroy everything you and I hold dear。〃 But he was pleased with the young man； he had seen the only way out of the trap Protorov had set for him。 He had even caught Protorov's deliberate usage error。
Once the young man had left； he pored over the puter…generated satellite photos again。
But by the end of his second pass； he had been forced to admit defeat。 There was no anomaly of any kind。 Again。 He did not know of course precisely what he was looking for； only had knowledge of its name： Tenchi。 It was the Japanese word for 〃heaven and earth。〃
Where are you？ he thought now； staring impotently at the detailed pictures covering the graphs before him。 What are you？ And why are you so important to the Japanese？
Tenchi had begun as just another routine report crossing his desk back in Moscow。 Yet it had tantalized him； and once he had e out here and had immersed himself in the well of rumor； alleged fact； and outrageous fiction； he had found himself totally hooked。 Until at this point he was obsessed with finding the answer。 From what he had gleaned he was convinced Tenchi…even the knowledge of it…would give him the last of the leverage he needed for the coup back home。
How bitter it was to learn that Fedorin…one of the KGB's own…was no better than all the rest of the career diplomats who had populat