Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第24章

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scar　on　Salvador’s　temple。
“Left。”
Refugio’s　fingertips　traced　and　retraced　the　lines　of　a　silver…plated　。45　caliber　Army　pistol　that
rested　on　his　knee。
“Right。”
Masarek’s　voice　was　thin；　soft　and　precise。　His　head　was　never　still。
“Left。”　Masarek’s　head　turned；　listening。
The　van　swayed；　then　evened　out　as　it　negotiated　the　hard　left　turn。　Now　the　vehicle　was
threading　its　way　through　narrow　alleys　behind　warehouses　and　armories；　alleys　piled　high　with
equipment。　The　supply　line　that　had　been　created　for　the　invasion　of　Japan　had　been　filled
beyond　its　capacity。　Hundreds　of　tons　of　clothing　and　food；　vehicles　and　fuel　drums　spilled　out
of　warehouses。　Field　artillery　pieces；　self…propelled　howitzers　and　other　instruments　of　war
towered　over　the　van。　Like　millions　of　men；　the　supplies　waited　for　a　Presidential　decision。
“Slow　down。”
Refugio’s　translation　was　like　a　garbled　echo。　Lopez　eased　off　the　accelerator；　guiding　the　van
along　ever　more　cluttered　roadways。
“Park　on　the　right。”
Lopez　backed　into　a　spot　behind　a　ten…foot…high　pile　of　crated　gasoline　barrels。　It　was　unlikely
that　the　van　would　be　spotted　there。　Lopez　shut　off　the　engine　and　turned　to　speak　to　Refugio。
“Silence。”
Masarek’s　command　needed　no　translation。　No　one　moved　or　spoke　while　Masarek　listened。　He
heard　nothing　but　the　random　pops　and　pings　of　metal　cooling　in　the　van’s　engine。　He　turned
his　head　several　times；　listening；　but　he　heard　neither　the　soft　scuff　of　his　private　fears　nor　the
tramp　of　military　feet；　nothing　but　the　engine　cooling。
Masarek　waited。　He　had　survived　forty　years　of　Russian　politics　by　being　patient。　He　listened
again；　barely　able　to　credit　the　information　that　a　single　guard　had　been　assigned　to　the　canister
of　7…235。　One　man　tonight；　two　men　tomorrow　to　load　the　canister　aboard　the　Indianapolis；　and
no　one　on　base　knew　what　was　inside　the　unimpressive　container。
No　one　except　Masarek。
Masarek’s　mouth　curved　slightly　beneath　his　long　nose。　Using　just　one　guard　was　clever。　Who
would　believe　the　canister　was　valuable；　when　chocolate　bars　were　better　guarded？　Yet　he　could
not　help　wondering　if　the　shipment　was　not　a　trap　for　men　such　as　himself。
Deftly；　Masarek　screwed　a　silencer　onto　his　pistol　and　pushed　the　gun　into　the　waistband　of　his
dark　pants。　His　American　sportscoat　covered　the　gun；　and　a　white　shirt　now　concealed　the　thin
black　sweater　that　had　made　him　invisible　in　the　alley’s　dank　night。　Clipped　to　the　shirt　pocket
was　a　Lawrence　Radiation　Laboratory　ID　badge。
Masarek　stood；　crouching　slightly　to　avoid　the　roof　of　the　van。　He　did　not　move　as　quickly　or　as
freely　as　he　once　had；　but　the　difference　was　apparent　only　to　him。　He　pulled　off　the　back　watch
cap　he　wore；　revealing　the　fleshy　shine　of　a　receding　hairline。　Quietly；　he　eased　open　the　van
door。
The　narrow　aisles　betpty　of　all　but　the　rain…wet　wind。　In　the
distance；　light　from　an　unhooded　lamp　made　a　fuzzy　sphere　of　illumination。　Masarek　set　himself
against　the　wind　and　stepped　onto　the　pavement。　After　a　final；　long　moment　of　listening
between　gusts　of　wind；　he　walked　toward　a　solid　black　rectangle　squatting　across　the　night。
Several　thin　strips　of　light　revealed　the　presence　of　ill…fitting　doors。
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As　soon　as　Masarek　stepped　down；　Refugio　began　counting。
Masarek　walked　away　from　the　truck　without　a　backward　look。　In　his　hand　was　a　voltmeter　and
an　empty　battery　pack。　Both　pieces　of　equipment　were　useless；　but　the　guard　would　not　know
that　until　it　was　too　late。
The　front　door　of　the　warehouse　swung　open　with　a　sound　of　tin　scraping　over　cement。　Masarek
disappeared。
Refugio　counted　to　fifty；　then　signaled　to　Salvador。　He　left　the　van　in　a　rush　and　stole　along　the
warehouse　to　a　padlocked　rear　door。　Heavy　wirecutters　gleamed　like　mercury　in　his　big　hands。
He　waited　for　a　gust　of　wind　to　rattle　the　warehouse；　then　lifted　the　cutters。　Steel　parted　with　a
clicking　sound。　Salvador　held　his　breath　and　sweated。
Nothing　moved　but　the　wind。
Five　seconds　after　Salvador　vanished　inside；　Refugio　slid　through　the　open　door　of　the
warehouse。　Lopez　followed。　The　door　shut　behind　him　with　a　slight　snick。
The　unshielded　light　at　the　far　end　of　the　warehouse　pushed　long；　irregular　shadows　out　of　the
heaped…up　machinery　and　cartons。　Refugio　and　his　men　merged　with　the　shadows　filling　one　side
of　the　warehouse。　Whatever　noise　the　men　made　was　covered　by　the　wind　prowling　outside。
At　the　far　end　of　the　warehouse　was　a　small　storeroom　created　by　partitioning　off　a　corner　of
the　building。　A　sentry　in　green　fatigues　sat　on　a　chair　beside　the　padlocked　door　of　the
storeroom。　An　M…l　carbine　lay　across　his　lap。　Deliberately；　Masarek　let　his　feet　scrape　on　the
concrete　floor。　The　sentry’s　head　snapped　up。
“Filthy　night；　isn’t　it？”　said　Masarek　above　the　sudden　drumroll　of　rain　on　the　tin　roof。
“What　the　hell　are　you　doing　here？”　said　the　sentry；　more　surprised　than　alarmed。
“I’m　Grummin；　from　the　lab。　Didn’t　they　tell　you？”　he　held　up　the　voltmeter。　“I’m　supposed　to
check　the　can　again。　You　want　to　sec　some　ID？”
Masarek　approached　the　sentry　with　a　sure；　soundless　stride。　With　one　hand；　he　undipped　the
badge　on　his　shirt　pocket。　The　sentry　held　out　his　hand　for　the　ID。　The　badge　was　cool　in　his
palm；　shining　with　reflected　light。　The　sentry　compared　Masarek’s　face　to　the　picture　on　the
badge。
At　the　last　instant；　the　sentry　sensed　something　was　wrong。　He　started　to　raise　his　gun。　There　was
a　blur　of　movement　as　the　edge　of　Masarek’s　hand　slashed　across　the　sentry’s　throat。　The　blow
was　deflected　by　the　man’s　desperate　twist；　so　that　he　was　stunned　rather　than　killed　outright。　He
retched　convulsively；　trying　to　breathe　through　a　crushed　throat。
Masarek’s　gun　extended　from　his　hand　like　a　silver　finger。　The　report　was　shockingly　soft；
almost　inaudible　beneath　the　sound　of　rain。　The　bullet　exploded　in　the　sentry’s　brain；　killing　him
before　he　could　blink。
“Quickly！”　said　Masarek；　his　voice　quiet　yet　urgent；　signaling　Refugio　forward　with　a　curt
motion　of　the　gun。
Refugio　and　his　men　stepped　out　of　the　shadows。　For　the　next　few　minutes　they　would　be
wholly　vulnerable；　sharing　a　warehouse　with　a　murdered　sentry　and　a　Top　Secret　shipment。
Masarek　grabbed　the　sentry；　holding　him　upright　while　he　pulled　the　back　of　the　dead　man’s
peacoat　over　the　back　of　the　metal　chair。　When　he　let　go；　the　sentry　stayed　upright；　held　by　the
rigid　chair　inside　his　jacket。　asarek　pulled　down　the　sentry’s　watch　cap　so
that　the　tiny　black　circle　in　the　center　of　his　forehead　did　not　show。　When　Masarek　was　finished；
the　sentry　appeared　to　be　staring　off　into　the　distance；　wide…eyed；　unblinking。
“Wirecutters。”
Masarek’s　command　was　soft；　yet　Lopez　leaped　forward　as　though　cut　by　a　whip。　He　took　the
wirecutters　from　Salvador　and　went　to　the　padlocked　storeroom　door。　His　hands　shook。　The
wirecutters　turned　uselessly　and　slipped　off　the　padlock’s　case…hardened　loop。　Masarek　took　the
cutters；　shifted　their　grip　to　the　softer　metal　of　the　hasp　and　dispatched　the　lock　in　one　neat
stroke。
A　rectangle　of　hard　light　from　the　warehouse　expanded　silently　across　the　tiny　room。　In　the
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center　of　the　light　squatted　a　small　cylinder。　Only　Masarek　knew　that　its　code　name　was　Bronx
and　that　it　was　the　key　to　the　world。
Refugio　stepped　into　the　room；　unable　to　believe　that　there　was　nothing　more　inside　it　than　this
unimpressive　little　garbage　can。
“Is　that　all？”　said　Refugio；　gesturing　contemptuously　at　the　canister。　“That’s　not　big　enough　to
hold　two　million　dollars　in　gold。”
“No；”　agreed　Masarek；　“it　isn’t。”
“You　said　–　“
“I　said　nothing　about　gold。”　Masarek’s　smile　increased　until　its　cruelty　became　unmistakable。
“Fool。　That　ugly　little　can　cost　one　billion　dollars。”
“Hijo；”　whispered　Refugio；　awed　by　an　amount　that　transcended　even　his　avarice。　“Diamonds？”
For　an　instant；　Masarek’s　contempt　gleamed　out　of　his　shadowed　eyes。　But　when　he　spoke；　his
voice　was　neutral。　“Not　diamonds。　Power。”
“I　don’t　understand；”　said　Refugio。　“What　–　“
“You　aren’t　being　paid　to　understand。　Take　the　can　to　the　truck。”
Masarek　stepped　back；　trying　to　keep　his　elatio