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淘豆网网友菦日为您收集整理了关于[有声畅销书.红兔子.汤姆·克兰西].Tom.Clancy.-.Red.Rabbit.(eng)的文档，希望对您的工作和学习有所帮助。以下是文档介绍：[有声畅销书.红兔子.湯姆·克兰西].Tom.Clancy.-.Red.Rabbit.(eng) Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)Red Rabbitby Tom ClancyCONTENTSq PROLOGUEq CHAPTER 1 - Rumblings and Dreamsq CHAPTER 2 - Visions and Horizonsq CHAPTER 3 - Explorationsq CHAPTER 4 - Introductionsq CHAPTER 5 - Getting Closeq CHAPTER 6 - But Not Too Closeq CHAPTER 7 - Simmeringq CHAPTER 8 - The Dishq CHAPTER 9 - Signalsq CHAPTER 10 - Bolt From the Blueq CHAPTER 11 - Hand Jiveq CHAPTER 12 - Handoffq CHAPTER 13 - Collegial(来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html])ityq CHAPTER 14 - Danger Signalq CHAPTER 15 - Meeting Placeq CHAPTER 16 - A Fur Hat for the Winterq CHAPTER 17 - Flash Trafficq CHAPTER 18 - Classical Musicq CHAPTER 19 - Clear Signalq CHAPTER 20 - Stagingq CHAPTER 21 - Vacationq CHAPTER 22 - Procurements And Arrangementsq CHAPTER 23 - All Aboardq CHAPTER 24 - Rolling Hillsq CHAPTER 25 - Exchanging the Bogiesq CHAPTER 26 - Touristsq CHAPTER 27 - Rabbit Runq CHAPTER 28 - British Midlandsq CHAPTER 29 (来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html])- Revelationq CHAPTER 30 - Flavian Amphitheaterfile:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (1 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)q CHAPTER 31 - Bridge Builderq CHAPTER 32 - Masqued BallTo Danny D and the men of Engine 52 and Ladder 52Heroes are often the most ordinary of men. HENRY DAVID THOUEAUThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places(来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html]), and incidents either are the product of the author'simagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businessestablishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.G. P. Putnam's SonsPublishers Since 1838a member of Penguin Putnam Inc.375 Hudson Street New York, NY 10014Copyright
2002 by Rubicon, Inc.All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without(来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html]) permission.Published simultaneously in CanadaLibrary of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication DataClancy, Tom, date. Red rabbit / Tom Clancy.p. cm.ISBN 0-399-14870-1ISBN 0-399-14914-7 (Limited Edition)1. Ryan, Jack (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. JohnPaul II, Pope, 1920—Assassination attempts—Fiction.3. Intelligence officers—Fiction. 4. Americans—England—Fiction. 5. Assassination—Fiction.6. Popes—Fiction. I. Title.PS 958813&#(来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html])39;.54—dc21Printed in the United States of America1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2 This book is printed on acid-free paper. BOOK DESIGN BY LOVEDOG STUDIOACKNOWLEDGMENTSLeanart, Joni, and Andy, for holding my hand behind the Old Curtain, and the crash-course in smuggling.Alex, of course, for holding the other one at all times.Tom and the lads at Her Majesty's Royal Palace and Fortress. So fine a body of men is difficult to find,and a rare pleasure to discove(来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html])r.The FSOs at the United States Embassy,' Budapest, for so graciously handling an unannounced walk-in.And to Michael, Melissa, Gilbert, and CDR Marsha, in anticipation of your superior professionalism.The most momentous thing in human life is the art of winning the soul to good or to evil.file:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (2 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED (来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html])RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)PYTHAGORASWithout recognizing the ordinances of Heaven, it is impossible to be a superior man.CONFUCIUSPROLOGUETHE BACK GARDENTHE SCARY PART, Jack decided, was going to be driving. He'd already bought a Jaguar—pronouncedjag-jou-ah over here, he'd have to remember—but both times he'd walked to it at the dealership, he'd o the left-front door instead of the right. The dealer hadn't laughed at him, but Ry(来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html])an was sure he'd wantedto. At least he hadn't climbed into the passenger seat by mistake and really made an ass of himself. He'dhave to remember all that: The &right& side of the road was the left. A right turn crossed ing traffic,not a left turn. The left lane was the slow lane on the interstates—motorways, he corrected himself. Theplugs in the wall were all cockeyed. The house didn't have central heating, despite the prin(来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html])cely price he'dpaid for it. There was no air-conditioning, though that probably wasn't necessary here. It wasn't the hottestof climates: The locals started dropping dead in the street when the mercury topped 75. Jack wonderedwhat the D.C. climate would do to them. Evidently, the &mad dogs and Englishmen& ditty was a thing ofthe past.But it could have been worse. He did have a pass to shop for food at the Army-Air Force Exchange(来源：淘豆网[/p-6485092.html])Service—otherwise known as the PX at nearby mons Air Base—so at least they'd haveproper hot dogs, and brands that resembled the ones he bought at the Giant at home in Maryland.So many other discordant notes. British television was different, of course, not that he really expectedmuch chance to vegetate in front of the phosphor screen anymore, but little Sally needed her ration ofcartoons. Besides, even when you were reading something important, the background chatter of somemindless show forting in its own way. The TV news wasn't too bad, though, and the newspaperswere particularly good—better than those he normally read at home, on the whole, &but he'd miss themorning Far Side. Maybe the International Tribune had it, Ryan hoped. He could buy it at the trainstation kiosk. He had to keep track of baseball anyway.The movers—removers, he reminded himself—were beavering away under Cathy's direction. It wasn't abad house, though smaller than their place at Peregrine Cliff, now rented to a Marine colonel teaching theearnest young boys and girls at the Naval Academy. The master bedroom overlooked what seemed to beabout a quarter-acre of garden. The realtor had been particularly enthused about that. And the previousowners had spent a lot of time there: It was wall-to-wall roses, mainly red and white, to honor the housesof Lancaster and York, it would seem. There were pink ones in between to show that they'd joinedtogether to form the Tudors, though that house had died out with Elizabeth I—and ultimately made wayfor the new set of Royals, whom Ryan had ample reason to like.And the weather wasn't bad at all. They'd been in country three days and it hadn't rained at all. The sunrose very early and set late, and in the winter, he'd heard, it never came up and immediately went backdown again. Some of the new friends he'd made at the State Department had told him that the long nightscould be hard on the little kids. At four years and six months, Sally still qualified for that. Five-month-oldJack probably didn't notice such things, and fortunately, he slept just fine—he was doing so right now, infact, in the custody of his nanny, Margaret van der Beek, a young redhead and daughter of a Methodistfile:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (3 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)minister in South Africa. She'e highly mended… and then had been cleared by a back-groundcheck performed by the Metropolitan Police. Cathy was a little concerned about the whole idea of ananny. The idea of somebody else raising her infant grated on her like fingernails on a chalkboard, but itwas an honored local custom, and it had worked out pretty well for one Winston Spencer Churchill. MissMargaret had been vetted through Sir Basil's agency—her own agency, in fact, was officially sanctionedby Her Majesty's government. Which meant precisely nothing, Jack reminded himself. He'd beenthoroughly briefed in the weeks ing over. The &opposition&—a British term also used atLangley—had rated the British munity more than once. CIA believed they hadn'tdone so at Langley yet, but Jack had to wonder about that. KGB was pretty damned good, and peoplewere greedy all over the world. The Russians didn't pay very well, but some people sold their souls andtheir freedom for peanuts. They also didn't carry a flashing sign on their clothing that said I AM ATRAITOR.Of all his briefings, the security ones had been the most tiresome. Jack's dad had been the cop in thefamily, and Ryan himself had never quite mastered that mode of thinking. It was one thing to look forhard data amid the cascade of crap that worked its way up the intelligence system, quite another to lookwith suspicion at everyone in the office and yet expect to work cordially with them. He wondered if anyof the others regarded him that way… probably not, he decided. He'd paid his dues the hard way, after all,and had the pale scars on his shoulder to prove it, not to mention the nightmares of that night onChesapeake Bay, the dreams in which his weapon never fired despite his efforts, Cathy's frantic cries ofterror and alarm ringing in his ears. He'd won that battle, hadn't he? Why did the dreams think otherwise?Something to talk to a pshrink about, perhaps, but as the old wives' tale went, you had to be crazy to go toa pshrink…Sally was running about in circles, looking at her new bedroom, admiring the new bed being assembledby the removers. Jack kept out of the way. Cathy had told him he was unfitted even to supervise this sortof thing, despite his tool kit, without which no American male feels very manly, which had been amongthe first things unpacked. The removers had their own tools, of course—and they, too, had been vetted bySIS, lest some KGB-controlled agent plant a bug in the house. It just wouldn't do, old boy.&Where's the tourist?& an American voice asked. Ryan went to the foyer to see who it—&Dan! How the hell are you?&&It was a boring day at the office, so Liz and I came out to see how things are going for you.& And sureenough, just behind the Legal Attaché was his beauty-queen wife, the long-suffering St. Liz of the FBIWives. Mrs. Murray went over to Cathy for a sisterly hug and kiss, then the two of them wentimmediately off to the garden. Cathy loved the roses, of course, which was fine with Jack. His dad hadcarried all the gardening genes in the Ryan family, and passed on none to his son. Murray gazed at hisfriend. &You look like hell.&&Long flight, boring book,& Jack explained.&Didn't you sleep on the way across?& Murray asked in surprise.&On an airplane?& Ryan responded.&It bothers you that much?&&Dan, on a ship, you can see what's holding you up. Not in an airplane.&That gave Murray a chuckle. &Better get used to it, bud. You're gonna be building up a lot of frequent-flyer miles hopping back and forth to Dulles.&&I suppose.& Strangely, Jack hadn't really considered that when he'd accepted the posting. Dumb, he'drealized too late. He'd be going back and forth to Langley at least once a month—not the greatest thing fora reluctant flyer.&The moving going okay? You can trust this bunch, you know. Bas has used them for twenty-plus years,my friends at the Yard like them, too. Half of these guys are ex-cops.& And cops, he didn't have to say,file:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (4 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)were more reliable than spooks.&No bugs in the bathroom? Great,& Ryan observed. During his very short experience of it so far, Ryan hadlearned that life in the intelligence service was a little different from teaching history at the NavalAcademy. There probably were bugs—but wired to Basil's office…&I know. Me, too. Good news, though: You'll be seeing a lot of me—if you don't mind.&Ryan nodded tiredly, trying to manage a grin. &Well, at least I'll have somebody to have a beer with.&&That's the national sport. More business gets done in pubs than at the office. Their version of the countryclub.&&The beer's not too bad.&&Better than the piss we have at home. I'm fully converted on that score.&&They told me at Langley that you do a lot of Intel work for Emil Jacobs.&&Some.& Murray nodded. &Fact of the matter is, we're better at it than a lot of you Agency types. TheOperations people haven't recovered from seventy-seven yet, and I'm not sure that'll happen for a while.&Ryan had to agree. &Admiral Greer thinks so, too. Bob Ritter is pretty smart—maybe a little too smart, ifyou know what I mean—but he doesn't have enough friends in Congress to get his empire expanded theway that he wants.&Greer was the CIA's chief analyst, Ritter the Ops director. The two were often at odds.&They don't trust Ritter like they do the DDL Carryover from the mittee mess ten years ago.You know, the Senate never seems to remember who ran those operations. They canonize the boss andcrucify the troops who tried to follow his orders—though badly. Damn, was that a—& Murray searched forthe word. &The Germans call it a schweinerei. No translation, exactly, but, you know, it just sounds likewhat it is.&Jack grunted with amusement. &Yeah, better than fuckup.&The CIA's effort to assassinate Fidel Castro, which had been run out of the office of the Attorney Generalduring the time of Camelot, had been right out of Woody Woodpecker, with a sprinkling of the ThreeStooges: politicians trying to imitate James Bond, a character made up by a failed Brit spook. The moviesjust weren't the real world, as Ryan had learned the hard way, first in London, and then in his own livingroom.&So, Dan, how good are they really?&&The Brits?& Murray led Ryan out onto the front lawn. The removers were vetted by SIS—but Murraywas FBI. &Basil is world-class. That's why he's lasted so long. He was a brilliant field spook, and he wasthe first guy to get a bad vibe about Philby—and remember, Basil was just a rookie. He's good atadministration, one of the most agile thinkers I've e across. The local politicians on both sides ofthe aisle like him and trust him. That isn't easy. Kinda like Hoover was for us once, but without the cult-of-personality thing. I like him. Good dude to work with. And Basil likes you a lot, Jack.&&Why?& Ryan asked. &I haven't done much of anything.&&Bas has an eye for talent. He thinks you have the right stuff. He flat loved that thing you dreamed up lastyear to catch security leaks—the Canary Trap—and rescuing their next king didn't exactly hurt, y'know?You're going to be a popular boy down at Century House. If you live up to your billing, you might justhave a future in the spook business.&&Great.& Ryan still wasn't entirely sure that was what he wanted to do, though. &Dan, I'm a stockbrokerwho turned into a history teacher, remember?&&Jack, that's behind you now. Look forward, will ya? You were pretty good picking stocks at MerrillLynch, right?&&I made a few bucks,& Ryan admitted. Actually, it was a lot of bucks, and his portfolio was still growing.People were getting fat on The Street back home.file:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (5 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)&So, apply your brains to something really important,& Dan suggested. &I hate to tell you, Jack, but therearen't that many smart people in the munity. I know. I work there. A lot of drones, a lot ofmoderately smart people, but damned few stars, pal. You have the stuff to be a star. Jim Greer thinks so.So does Basil. You think outside the box. I do, too. That's why I'm not chasing bank robbers in Riverside,Philadelphia, anymore. But I never made any million bucks playing the market.&&Getting lucky doesn't make you a great guy, Dan. Hell, Cathy's dad, Joe, has made a lot more 'n I everwill, and he's an opinionated, overbearing son of a bitch.&&Well, you made his daughter the wife of an honorary knight, didn't you?&Jack smiled sheepishly. &Yeah, I suppose I did.&&That'll open a lot of doors over here, Jack. The Brits do like their titles.& He paused. &Now—how about Idrag you guys out for a pint? There's a nice pub up the hill, The Gypsy Moth. This moving stuff'll driveyou crazy. It's almost as bad as building a house.&HIS OFFICE WAS in the first basement level of The Centre, a security measure that had never beenexplained to him, but it turned out there was an exact counterpart room in the headquarters of the MainEnemy. There, it was called MERCURY, messenger of the gods—very apt, if his nation acknowledgedthe concept of a god. The messages passed through the code and cipher clerks, came to his desk, and heexamined them for content and code words, before routing them to the proper offices an then, when the messages came back down, he routed things the other way. The traffic broke i mornings were usually inbound traffic and afternoons usually outbound. The tedious partwas the encrypting, of course, since so many of the people out in the field used one-time pads unique tothemselves—the single copies of those pads were located in the set of rooms to his right. The clerks inthere transmitted and kept secrets ranging from the sex lives of Italian parliamentarians to the precisetargeting hierarchy of American nuclear-strike plans.Strangely, none of them talked about what they did or what they encrypted, inbound or outbound. Theclerks were pretty mindless. Perhaps they were recruited with those psychological factors in mind—itwould not have surprised him. This was an agency designed by geniuses for operation by robots. Ifsomeone could actually build such robots, he was sure they'd have them here, because you could trustmachines not to diverge too greatly from their intended path.Machines couldn't think, however, and for his own job, thinking and remembering were useful things, ifthe agency was to function—and function it must. It was the shield and the sword of a state which neededboth. And he was the he had to remember what went where. He didn't knoweverything that went on here, but he knew a lot more than most people in this building: operation namesand locations, and, often enough, operational missions and taskings. He generally did not know the propernames and faces of field officers, but he knew their targets, knew the code names of their recruited agents,and, for the most part, knew what those agents were providing.He'd been here, in this department, for nine and a half years. He'd started in 1973, just after graduatingfrom Moscow State University with a degree in mathematics, and his highly disciplined mind had gottenhim spotted early on by a KGB talent scout. He played a particularly fine game of chess, and that, hesupposed, was where his trained memory came from, all that study of the games of the old grandmasters,so that in a given situation he'd know the next move. He'd actually thought of making chess his career, butthough he'd studied hard, it wasn't quite hard enough, it seemed. Boris Spassky, just a young playerhimself then, had annihilated him six games to none, with two desperate draws, and so ended his hopes offame and fortune… and travel. He sighed at his desk. Travel. He'd studied his geography books, too, andin closing his eyes could see the images—mainly black-and-white: Venice's Grand Canal, London'sRegent Street, Rio de Janeiro's magnificent Copacabana beach, the face of Mt. Everest, which Hillary hadfile:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (6 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)climbed when he himself had just been learning to walk… all those places he would never get to see. Nothim. Not a person with his access and his security clearances. No, KGB was very careful with suchpeople. It trusted no one, a lesson that had been learned the hard way. What was it about his country thatso many tried to escape from it? And yet so many millions had died fighting for the rodina… He'd beenspared military service because of his mathematics and his chess potential, and then, he supposed, becauseof his recruitment to #2 Dzerzhinskiy Square. Along with it came a nice flat, fully seventy-five squaremeters, in a recently finished building. Military rank, too—he'd e a senior captain within weeks ofhis majority, which, on the whole, wasn't too bad. Even better, he'd just started getting paid now incertificate rubles, and so was able to shop in the &closed& stores for Western consumer goods—and, bestof all, with shorter lines. His wife appreciated that. He'd soon be in the entry level of the nomenklatura,like a minor czarist prince, looking up the ladder and wondering how far he might climb. But unlike theczars, he was here not by blood but by merit—a fact that appealed to his manhood, Captain Zaitzevthought.Yes, he'd earned his way here, and that was important. That's why he was trusted with secrets, this one forexample: an agent code-named CASSIUS, an American living in W it seemed he had access tovaluable political intelligence that was treasured by people on the fifth floor, and which was oftenseconded to experts in the U.S.-Canada Institute, which studied the tea leaves in America. Canada wasn'tvery important to the KGB, except for its participation in the American air-defense systems, and becausesome of its senior politicians didn't like their powerful southern neighbor, or so the rezident in Ottawaregularly told his superiors upstairs. Zaitzev wondered about that. The Poles might not love their easternneighbor either, but the Poles mostly did what they were told—the Warsaw rezident had reported withunconcealed pleasure in his dispatch the previous month—as that union hothead had found out to fort. &Counterrevolutionary scum& had been the term used by Colonel Igor AlekseyevichTomachevskiy. The Colonel was thought to be a rising star, due for a posting to the West. That's wherethe really good ones went.TWO AND A half miles across town, Ed Foley was first in the door, with his wife, Mary Patricia, justbehind him, leading Eddie by the hand. Eddie's young blue eyes were wide with a child's curiosity, buteven now the four-and-a-half-year-old was learning that Moscow wasn't Disney World. The culture shockwas about to fall like Thor's own hammer, but it would expand his horizons a bit, his parents thought. Asit would theirs.&Uh-huh,& Ed Foley said on his first look. An embassy consular officer had lived here before, and he'd atleast made an effort to clean the place up, no doubt helped by a Russian domestic—the Soviet governmentprovided them, and diligent they were… for both their bosses. Ed and Mary Pat had been thoroughlybriefed for weeks—nay, months—before taking the long Pan Am flight out of JFK for Moscow.&So, this is home, eh?& Ed observed in a studiously neutral voice.&e to Moscow,& Mike Barnes told the newbies. He was another consular officer, a career FSO onthe way up, and had this week's duty as the embassy greeter. &The last occupant was Charlie Wooster.Good guy, back at Foggy Bottom now, catching the summer heat.&&How are the summers here?& Mary Pat asked.&Kinda like Minneapolis,& Barnes answered. &Not real hot, and the humidity's not too bad, and the wintersare actually not as severe—I grew up in Minneapolis,& he explained. &Of course, the German army mightnot agree, or Napoleon, but, well, nobody ever said Moscow was supposed to be like Paris, right?&&Yeah, they told me about the nightlife,& Ed chuckled. It was all right with him. They didn't need astealthy Station Chief in Paris, and this was the biggest, ripest plum assignment he'd never expected to get.Bulgaria, maybe, but not the very belly of the beast. Bob Ritter must have been really impressed by hisfile:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (7 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)time in Tehran. Thank God Mary Pat had delivered Eddie when she had. They'd missed the takeover inIran by, what, three weeks? It had been a troublesome pregnancy, and Mary Pat's doc had insisted on ing back to New York for the delivery. Kids were a gift from God, all right… Besides, that had madeEddie a New Yorker, too, and Ed had damned well wanted his son to be a Yankees and Rangers fan frombirth. The best news of this assignment, aside from the professional stuff, was that he'd see the best icehockey in the world right here in Moscow. Screw the ballet and the symphony. These fuckers knew howto skate. Pity the Russkies didn't understand baseball. Probably too sophisticated for the muzhiks. Allthose pitches to choose from…&It's not real big,& Mary Pat observed, looking at one cracked window. They were on the sixth floor. Atleast the traffic noise wouldn't be too bad. The foreigners' compound—ghetto—was walled and guarded.This was for their protection, the Russians insisted, but street crime against foreigners wasn't a problem inMoscow. The average Russian citizen was forbidden by law to have foreign currency in his possession,and there was no convenient way to spend it in any case. So there was little profit in mugging anAmerican or Frenchman on the streets, and there was no mistaking them—their clothing marked themabout as clearly as peacocks among crows.&Hello!& It was an English accent. The florid face appeared a moment later. &We're your neighbors. Nigeland Penny Haydock,& the face's owner said. He was about forty-five, tall and skinny, with prematurelygray and thinning hair. His wife, younger and prettier than he probably deserved, appeared an instant laterwith a tray of sandwiches and some ing white wine.&You must be Eddie,& the flaxen-haired Mrs. Haydock observed. That's when Ed Foley noticed thematernity dress. She was about six months gone, by the look of her. So the briefings had been right inevery detail. Foley trusted CIA, but he'd learned the hard way to verify everything, from the names ofpeople living on the same floor to whether the toilet flushed reliably. Especially in Moscow, he thought,heading for the bathroom. Nigel followed.&The plumbing works reliably here, but it is noisy. No plains,& Haydock explained.Ed Foley flipped the handle and, sure enough, it was noisy.&Fixed that myself. Bit of a handyman, you see,& he said. Then, more quietly, &Be careful where youspeak in this place, Ed. Bloody bugs everywhere. Especially the bedrooms. The bloody Russians like tocount asms, so it seems. Penny and I try not to disappoint.& A sly grin. Well, to some cities youbrought your own nightlife.&Two years here?& The toilet seemed to run forever. Foley was tempted to lift the tank cover to see ifHaydock had replaced the plumbing hardware inside with something special. He decided he didn't have tolook to check that.&Twenty-nine months. Seven to go. It's a lively place to work. I'm sure they told you, everywhere you go,you'll have a 'friend' handy. Don't underestimate them, either. The Second Directorate chaps arethoroughly trained…& The toilet ran its course, and Haydock changed his voice. &The shower—the hotwater is pretty reliable, but the spray pipe, it rattles, just like the one in our flat…& He turned the faucet todemonstrate. Sure enough, it rattled. Had someone worked on the wall to loosen it? Ed wondered.Probably. Probably this very handyman with him.&Perfect.&&Yes, you will get a lot of work done in here. Shower with a friend and save water—isn't that what theysay in California?&Foley managed his first laugh in Moscow. &Yeah, that's what they say, all right.& He gave his visitor alook. He was surprised that Haydock had introduced himself so early, but maybe it was just reverse-English tradecraft to be so obvious. The business of espionage had all manner of rules, and the Russianswere rule-followers. So, Bob Ritter had told him, toss away part of the rulebook. Stick to your cover andbe a dumbass unpredictable American every chance you get. He'd also told the Foleys that Nigel Haydockfile:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (8 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)was one guy they could trust. He was the son of another intelligence officer—a man betrayed by KimPhilby himself, one of the poor bastards who'd parachuted into Albania into the waiting arms of the mittee. Nigel had been five years old then, just old enough always to remember what it waslike to lose your father to the enemy. Nigel's motivation was probably as good as Mary Pat's, and that waspretty damned good. Better even than his own, Ed Foley might admit after a few drinks. Mary Pat hatedthe bastards as the Lord God Himself hated sin. Haydock wasn't the Station Chief here, but he was thehead bird-dog for the SIS's operation in Moscow, and that made him pretty good. The CIA's Director,Judge Moore, trusted the Brits: after Philby, he'd seen them go through SIS with a flamethrower hotterthan even James Jesus Angleton's fly rod and cauterize every possible leak. In turn, Foley trusted JudgeMoore, and so did the President. That was the craziest part of the intelligence business: You couldn't trustanybody—but you had to trust somebody.Well, Foley thought, checking the hot water with his hand, nobody ever said the business made muchsense. Like classical metaphysics. It just was.&When's the furniture get here?&&The container ought to be on a truck in Leningrad right now. Will they tamper with it?&Haydock shrugged. &Check everything,& he warned, then softened. &You can never know how thoroughthey are, Edward. The KGB is a great bloody bureaucracy—you don't know the meaning of the word untilyou see it in operation here. For example, the bugs in your flat—how many of them actually work?They're not British , nor are they AT&T. It's the curse of this country, really, and it works for us,but that, too, is unreliable. When you're followed, you can't know if it's an experienced expert or somebloody nimrod who can't find his way to the loo. They look alike and dress alike. Just like our people,when you get down to it, but their bureaucracy is so large that there's a greater likelihood it will protectthe petent—or maybe not. God knows, at Century House we have our share of drones.&Foley nodded. &At Langley, we call it the Intelligence Directorate.&&Quite. We call ours the Palace of Westminster,& Haydock observed, with his own favorite prejudice. &Ithink we've tested the plumbing enough.&Foley turned off the faucet and the two men returned to the living room, where Penny and Mary Pat weregetting acquainted.&Well, we have enough hot water anyway, honey.&&Glad to hear it,& Mary Pat responded. She turned back to her guest. &Where do you shop around here?&Penny Haydock smiled: &I can take you there. For special items, we can order from an agency in Helsinki,excellent quality: English, French, German—even American, for things like juices and preserved foods.The perishables are Finnish in origin, and they're generally very good, especially the lamb. Don't theyhave the finest lamb, Nigel?&&Indeed it is—as good as New Zealand,& her husband agreed.&The steaks leave something to be desired,& Mike Barnes told them, &but every week we get steaks flownin from Omaha. Tons of them—we distribute them to all our friends.&&That is the truth,& Nigel confirmed. &Your corn-fed beef is superb. I'm afraid we're all quite addicted toit.&&Thank God for the U.S. Air Force,& Barnes went on. &They fly the beef into all their NATO bases, andwe're on the distribution list. e in frozen, not quite as good as fresh at Delmonico's, but closeenough to remind you of home. I hope you guys brought a grill. We tend to take them up on the roof tocook out. We import charcoal, too. Ivan just doesn't seem to understand about that.& The apartment had nobalcony, perhaps to protect them from the diesel smell that pervaded the city.&What about going to work?& Foley asked.&Better to take the metro. It really is great,& Barnes told him.file:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (9 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)&Leaving me with the car?& Mary Pat asked, with a hopeful smile. This was going exactly to plan. Thatwas expected, but anything that went well in this business came as something of a surprise, like the rightpresents under the Christmas tree. You always hoped Santa got the letter, but you could never be sure.&You might as well learn how to drive in this city,& Barnes said. &At least you have a nice car.& Theprevious resident in this apartment had left behind a white Mercedes 280 for them, which was indeed anice car. Actually, a little too nice at only four years old. Not that there were all that many cars inMoscow, and the license plates surely marked it as belonging to an American diplomat, and thus easy tospot by any traffic cop, and by the KGB vehicle that would follow it most places it went. Again, it wasreverse-English. Mary Pat would have to learn to drive like an Indianapolis resident on her first trip toNew York. &The streets are nice and wide,& Barnes told her, &and the gas station is only three blocks thatway.& He pointed. &It's a huge one. The Russians like to build them that way.&&Great,& she observed for Barnes's benefit, already dropping into her cover as a pretty, ditsy blonde.Around the world, the pretty ones were supposed to be the dumb ones, and blondes most of all. It was ahell of a lot easier to play dumb than to be smart, after all, Hollywood actors notwithstanding.&What about servicing the car?& Ed asked.&It's a Mercedes. They don't break much,& Barnes assured them. &The German embassy has a guy who canfix anything that goes bad. We're cordial with our NATO allies. You guys er fans?&&Girls' game,& Ed Foley responded immediately.&That's rather coarse of you,& Nigel Haydock observed.&Give me American football any time,& Foley countered.&Bloody foolish, uncivilized game, full of violence mittee meetings,& the Brit sniffed.Foley grinned. &Let's eat.&They sat down. The interim furniture was adequate, something like you'd find in a no-tell motel inAlabama. You could sleep on the bed, and the bug spray had probably done for all the crawly things.Probably.The sandwiches were okay. Mary Pat went to get glasses and turned on the taps—&mend against that one, Mrs. Foley,& Nigel warned. &Some e down with plaints from the tap water…&&Oh?& She paused. &And my name's Mary Pat, Nigel.&Now they were properly introduced. &Yes, Mary Pat. We prefer bottled water for drinking. The tap wateris good enough for bathing, and you can boil it in a pinch for coffee and tea.&&It's even worse in Leningrad,& Nigel warned. &The natives are more or less immunized, they tell me, butwe foreigners can get some serious GI problems there.&&What about schools?& Mary Pat had been worried about that.&The American-British school looks after the children well,& Penny Haydock promised. &I work theremyself part-time. And the academic program there is top-drawer.&&Eddie's starting to read already, isn't he, honey?& the proud father announced.&Just 'Peter Rabbit' and that sort of thing, but not bad for four,& an equally pleased mother confirmed forthe rest. For his part, Eddie had found the sandwich plate and was gnawing through something. It wasn'this treasured bologna, but a hungry kid is not always discriminating. There were also four large jars ofSkippy's Super Chunk peanut butter packed away in a safe place. His parents figured they could get grapejelly anywhere, but probably not Skippy. The local bread, everyone said, was decent, if not exactly theWonder Bread that American children had been raised on. And Mary Pat had a bread-maker in their cargocontainer, now on a truck or train between Moscow and Leningrad. A good cook, she was a positive artistat baking bread, and expected that to be her entree into the embassy social set.file:///C|/Downloads/Ebooks/Tom_Clancy_-_[J...%209]%20-%20Red%20Rabbit%20[v1.0%20htm].htm (10 of 517) [09/12/:11 PM]播放器加载中，请稍候...
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[有声畅銷书.红兔子.汤姆·克兰西].Tom.Clancy.-.Red.Rabbit.(eng) Clancy, Tom - [Jack Ryan 9] - RED RABBIT – v1.0 .html(Proofed)Red Rabbitby Tom ClancyCONTENTSq PROLOGUEq CHAPTER 1 - Rumblings and Dreamsq CHAPTER 2 - Visions and Horizonsq CHAPTER 3 - Explorationsq CHAPTER 4 - Introductionsq CHAPTER 5 ...
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