Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第13章

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“The　honored　wife　of　Omi…san　said　that　you　requested　my　presence；”　Ana　said。
“English；　please；”　said　Kestrel。　Although　he　trusted　his　host’s　loyalty；　Kestrel　himself　had
bribed　too　many　servants　to　trust　Takagura’s。　“Did　you　finish　interviewing　Refugio’s　whores
after　I　left　with　Rubia？”
Kestrel’s　face　did　not　show　his　distaste　for　prostitutes　and　hours　spent　watching　their　work。
Ana’s　face　did；　although　she　had　done　no　more　than　question　the　women。　He　had　seen　Mexican
sluts　condescend　to　Ana；　a　woman　they　considered　their　sexual　and　racial　inferior。　He
understood　Ana’s　hatred　of　them。　He　even　sympathized。　He　did　not　let　sympathy　get　in　the　way
of　necessity；　however。　He　needed　a　fluent；　trustworthy　translator。　Ana。
“They　added　nothing　new；”　answered　Ana；　trying　to　be　as　expressionless　as　Kestrel；　and　failing。
“The　number　of　Americans　from　Socorro　and　Los　Alamos　has　doubled　or　tripled　in　recent
weeks。　They　drink　heavily；　screw　badly；　pay　too　much；　and　sometimes　go　crazy。”　Ana　frowned。
“Several　of　the　sluts　mentioned　the　same　man。　He　ran　up　and　down　the　halls；　drunk；　naked；
yelling；　‘We’ve　done　it！　I’ll　never　have　to　see　that　fat　asshole　Groves　again！”
“Was　the　man　a　soldier？”
“I　asked。　The　whores　described　him　as　bearded。　He　didn’t　wear　dog　tags　or　military　signet　rings。
His　clothes　were　civilian；　including　the　underwear。”
Kestrel　looked　beyond　Ana；　thinking　about　the　crumbs　of　information　he　had　gathered　from
Refugio；　Rubia；　and　now　Ana。　Rubia’s　red…headed　soldier　had　mentioned　a　test　“soon；”　and　that
whatever　it　was　had　originally　come　from　Los　Alamos。　Ana　spoke　of　a　bearded　civilian　running
through　a　Mexican　whorehouse　yelling　that　something　was　done。　Was　it　too　much　to　assume　that
whatever　weapon　was　being　built　in　Los　Alamos　was　going　to　be　tested　and　then　shipped　to
California；　and　from　there　overseas　for　use　against　Japan？
“You’re　sure　that　he　said；　‘We’ve　done　it！’？”　asked　Kestrel。　“Was　he　speaking　Spanish　or　did　one
of　the　sluts　know　English？”
“Yolanda　–　the　young　one　with　the　broken　nose　–　speaks　some　English。　She　said　he　yelled　the
same　thing　again　and　again；　until　someone　threw　him　into　the　alley。　She’s　sure　she　remembered　it
right。　She’s　also　the　one　who　thought　to　check　his　clothes　and　jewelry。”
“Good。　Pay　her　extra。”
“I　did。”
“You’ve　done　very　well　for　me；　Ana。”
Ana　smiled；　pleased　that　she　had　pleased　him。　“Thank　you；”　she　said；　bowing　formally。　“It　is　my
duty　and　pleasure　to　serve　the　honorable　representative　of　the　Son　of　Heaven。”
The　words；　gracious　in　Japanese；　sounded　awkward　in　English。　Ana　flushed　slightly。　Kestrel
bowed　like　a　Japanese；　then　smiled　at　her　like　an　American　and　took　her　hand。　Ana’s　flesh
deepened；　but　she　did　not　pull　away。　Kestrel　was　the　first　samurai　she　had　ever　known；　he
fascinated　her。　He　knew　it；　and　used　it。　He　let　go　of　her　hand　and　indicated　the　lacquered　tray
holding　teapot　and　cups　with　no　handles。　“Would　you　pour　tea　for　us？”
Kestrel　watched　her　fill　the　cups　neatly　and　gracefully；　a　skill　learned　under　Takagura’s
demanding　eye。　“You　do　many　things　well；”　he　said；　taking　the　cup　she　offered　him。　“Did
Refugio　have　any　questions　when　you　delivered　the　money　to　him？”
“No。　He　must　like　you。　He　only　counted　it　once。”
Kestrel　laughed。　“He　will　count　it　twice　more　when　he　is　alone。”
“That　may　be　a　while；”　said　Ana；　sipping　her　green　tea。　“He’s　flying　with　that　man　Masarek　to
Mexicali。　The　Englishwoman　is　going　along。　His　mistress；　I　suppose。”
“When　are　they　leaving？”
Ana　looked　up；　startled　by　the　change　in　Kestrel’s　tone。　“He’s　probably　gone　by　now。　I’m　sorry。
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Should　I　have　stopped　him？”
Kestrel　did　not　answer　for　a　moment。　He　felt　cold；　felt　time　draining　away　from　him。　First　the
hints　that　the　weapon　was　done；　that　it　would　be　tested　soon；　and　suddenly　the　Russian　was　gone
as　though　there　were　nothing　further　of　value　left　at　Los　Alamos。　He　was　too　far　behind　the
Russian。　Japan　was　too　far　behind　the　Americans；　one　man　and　a　country　stumbling　along
picking　up　crumbs　from　an　international　spy　feast　that　had　just　begun　in　Lisbon　and　could　too
easily　end　here；　before　he　and　Japan　had　more　than　a　taste　of　the　meal。
“I’m　sorry；”　said　Ana。
Kestrel　realized　that　she　had　said　it　several　times。　He　curbed　his　thoughts　and　fears　with　the
discipline　that　was　as　much　a　part　of　him　as　his　slanting　eyes。　“It’s　not　your　fault　that　I　came　here
too　late；　knowing　too　little。”
Ana　spoke　hesitantly；　as　if　she　were　afraid　to　disturb　him。　“Takagura　has　many　contacts　in
Siexicali。　And　I　–　my　family　lived　in　San　Francisco　before　they　were　driven　into　concentration
camps。”
Kestrel　listened　to　the　bitterness　in　Ana’s　voice。　Hatred　was　the　reason　she　had　abandoned　the
country　of　her　birth。　Hatred；　a　gift　for　languages　and　administrative　skills　worthy　of　a　person
twice　her　age　had　made　her　invaluable　to　Takagura　Omi’s　espionage　and　import　business。　But
hatred　was　a　dangerous　thing　in　a　spy。　He　was　grateful　that　he　did　not　have　to　use　Ana　beyond
her　capacity　as　translator　and　go…between。　He　had　the　active　spy’s　distrust　of　untrained　agents。
“Takagura　trusts　Refugio’s　greed；”　said　Kestrel。　“I’m　forced　to　do　the　same。”
“He　said　he’ll　call　from　Mexicali　when　he　knows　more　of　what　Masarek　wants。　Perhaps　I　should
stay　with　you　until　then。”
“Why？”
“Refugio　will　have　to　speak　Spanish　so　that　Masarek　won’t　understand　what’s　being　said。　But
you　don’t　understand　Spanish。”
Kestrel　smiled　wryly。　“Again；　I　find　you　invaluable。”　He　touched　her　hand。
Ana’s　pleasure　at　the　compliment　and　touch　was　as　transparent　as　her　eagerness　to　stay　with　him。
“You’ll　have　time　to　tell　me　about　Japan。　I’ve　never　been　to　my　country。”
“First；　I　need　to　know　more　about　America。”
Ana　frowned　and　looked　away。　“What　do　you　need　to　know？”
“Does　Takagura　have　men　in　San　Francisco？”
“It’s　been　very　hard　since　Pearl　Harbor。　They　locked　up　the　Japanese；　you　know；”　Ana　said
stiffly。
“Yes；　I　know。”　He　also　knew　that　Japan　had　overnight　lost　most　of　its　information　network　on
the　West　Coast。
“All　of　Takagura’s　contacts　who　are　still　free　are　Mexicans。　Refugio’s　cousins。　In　fact；　Takagura
arranged　to　sell　my　father’s　flower　shop　to　the　Reyes　brothers　after　my　father　was　sent　to
Manzanar。　Refugio’s　cousins　paid　almost　nothing；　but；”　she　shrugged；　“even　that　was　more　than
most　Japanese　got　for　their　property。”
“Does　the　name　‘Magord’　or　‘Amgordo’　mean　anything　to　you？”
Ana　frowned　and　repeated　the　words　to　herself　several　times。　After　a　few　moments　she　shook
her　head。　“Are　they　Spanish　words？”
“They　are　the　same　word；　and　probably　Spanish。　I　believe　it’s　the　name　of　a　place　in　New
Mexico；　a　desert　area；　probably　on　or　near　a　military　installation。　It’s　probably；　but　not
necessarily；　convenient　to　Los　Alamos。”
“Where　is　the　map　I　brought　you　yesterday？”
While　Ana　cleared　cups　and　teapot　off　a　low　table；　Kestrel　got　the　map。　He　spread　it　out；
concealing　the　table’s　intricate　mother…of…pearl　inlays。　Ana　knelt　and　looked　at　the　map。　Her
eyes　were…very　dark　against　the　pale　background　of　her　rice…powdered　face。　The　hair　framing　her
cheeks　was　black；　gleaming；　untouched　by　silver。　She　bent　closer　to　the　map　until　her　breath
almost　touched　his　hand　as　he　traced　a　road　that　followed　the　Rio　Grande　toward　Los　Alamos。
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“Amgord…　Magordo；”　muttered　Kestrel。　His　finger　moved　over　such　place　names　as　La　Mesa
a？d　Las　Cruces；　Truth　or　Consequences　and　Socorro；　Albuquerque　and　–　“Algodones？　No；　it
was　gordo　or　gord；　not　godo。”
He　traced　the　road　through　Santa　Fe　to　Los　Alamos　and　then　on　north；　but　found　nothing。　He
traced　down　along　the　west　side　of　the　Rio　Grande；　ranging　out　200　miles　or　more　and　then　on
down　to　the　border。　The　only　place　name　he　paused　over　was　Mogollón。
“That’s　high　country；”　said　Ana。　“Forest；　not　desert。”
Kestrel　read　the　map’s　legend　and　reached　the　same　conclusion。　He　began　searching　the　area
east　of　the　Rio　Grande　and　north　to　the　New　Mexican　border。
“Alamogordo。”　Kestrel　stopped；　measuring　the　sound　of　the　word　against　what　the　soldier　had
said。　The　“gordo”　sounded　right