Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第33章

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Lawrence　lab？”
Coughlan　approached　and　took　the　card　from　Finn。　He　smoothed　it　out　and　studied　the　picture
and　the　printing　carefully。　“Paper　and　printing　are　right；　but　it　couldn’t　have　come　from　the　lab。
We　never　did　one　on　this　guy　Grummin。”
“His　name　is　Masarek。　He’s　an　NKVD　agent。”
Everyone　in　the　room　came　to　attention　at　the　mention　of　the　Russian　secret　service。
“NKVD？”　said　Coughlan。　“I　should　have　figured　it　was　the　commies。”　He　turned　to　Riley。　“Get
the　guys　from　the　Red　Squad　down　here。　I　want　every　known　commie　agent；　sympathizer　or
plain　fool　in　San　Francisco　and　Berkeley　under　surveillance　by　noon。”
“Hold　it。”　Finn’s　voice　was　like　a　pistol　shot。　“You　can　put　a　watch　on　known　agents　and　idiots
–　it　will　at　least　keep　your　men　out　of　the　way。　But　it　won’t　answer　my　question　about　where　the
card　came　from。”
“It’s　a　fake。　It　has　to　be；”　said　Coughlan。　“We　never　approved　a　security　clearance　for　a
goddamn　Russian　spy　called　Grummin　or　Masarek　or　whatever　the　hell　his　name　is。”
“Someone　in　that　lab　told　Grummin…Masarek　when　the　shipment　arrived　and　where　it　was
stored。　That　same　person　could　have　stolen　a　blank　Lawrence　lab　ID　card　and　given　it　to
Masarek。”
Coughlan　scowled；　but　nodded　finally。
“Run　another　check　on　everybody　at　the　lab；”　said　Finn。　“Bear　down　on　anyone　who　knew
about　the　shipment。　And　be　a　prick　with　the　men　who　came　here　at　midnight。”
Coughlan’s　scowl　deepened；　but　he　nodded　again。
“And　before　you　do　anything　else；”　continued　Finn；　“get　a　bulletin　on　Masarek　out　to　the　local
police。”
“An　APB；”　muttered　Coughlan。　“San　Francisco　or　the　whole　damn　Bay　Area？”
“Statewide；”　said　Finn；　trying　to　keep　the　bleak　edge　of　hopelessness　out　of　his　voice。　“Christ；
he　could　be　halfway　to　Russia　by　now。”
With　the　discipline　that　had　made　him　a　survivor；　Finn　put　away　his　feeling　of　futility。　As　long　as
there　was　time；　he　would　keep　on　trying…　otherwise　the　sentry　would　be　just　the　first　of　a
million　casualties；　death　piled　on　death。
Finn　stood　and　walked　swiftly　through　the　half…open　storeroom　door　that　was　just　beyond　the
sentry’s　body。　Riley　hesitated；　then　followed　his　new　partner。
The　first　thing　Finn　saw　was　the　open　canister。　His　breath　hissed　out　between　his　teeth　as　the
enormity　of　the　thieves’　ignorance　struck　him　for　the　first　time。
“Sweet　Jesus。　The　bastards　don’t　know　what　they　stole！”　Finn　remembered　the　dying　technician
in　Los　Alamos；　the　horror　of　his　invisible；　lethal　injury。　He　turned　toward　the　men　waiting
outside　the　storeroom。　“How　many　people　have　been　in　here？”
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Coughlan　came　up　behind　Finn　and　looked　over　his　shoulder。　“No　one　but　me。　Why？”
“Did　you　touch　anything？”
“Uh；　no；”　said　Coughlan　uneasily。　“We　were　told　that　the　storeroom　was　off　limits　until
someone　from　Groves　cleared　it。”
Finn　looked　at　Coughlan；　sure　that　he　was　lying。　It　was　an　investigator’s　nature　to　poke　and　pry；
and　Coughlan　was　an　investigator　before　he　was　anything　else。
“Riley；”　said　Finn。
The　young　agent　took　Coughlan’s　place　behind　Finn；　looking　over　his　shoulder　into　the
forbidden　storeroom。　Finn　pulled　a　metal　keyring　from　his　pocket　and　flipped　it　to　Riley。
“In　the　trunk　of　the　black　Ford　coupe　parked　out　front。　A　metal　box。　Bring　it。”
In　less　than　a　minute；　Riley　returned　with　the　radiation　counter。　Finn　took　the　instrument；
snapped　it　on　and　adjusted　the　dial。　He　was　rewarded　with　a　slow；　steady　click；　like　a
metronome。　Finn　extended　the　probe　in　front　of　him　like　a　snake　stick　and　began　quartering　the
storeroom。
As　he　approached　the　canister；　the　radiation　counter　began　clicking　faster。　When　he　was　eight
feet　from　the　empty　canister　the　pulses　quickened　even　more；　sounding　double　time　in　a　ghostly
march。　At　six　feet；　the　sound　slid　into　a　blur。
Finn　stopped　and　recalibrated。　Although　the　radiation　was　still　within　the　range　of　safety；　Finn
felt　as　though　the　temperature　of　the　room　were　increasing　with　each　click。　Sweat　started　on　his
forehead。　He　remembered　again　the　laboratory　and　the　innocent　looking；　deadly　pieces　of
metal。
“What　are　you　doing？”　demanded　Coughlan。
Finn　ignored　him。　Four　feet　away　from　the　cannister；　Finn　had　to　recalibrate　again。　He　was
approaching　the　upper　level　of　what　he　had　been　told　was　the　safety　range。　The　skin　on　his　arms
prickled　and　contracted。　He　advanced　another　cautious　step；　feeling　as　though　he　were　in　the
jungle　again；　and　the　clicks　of　the　counter　a　cloud　of　frightened　birds　crying　frantic　warnings。
Off　to　the　side　of　the　lid；　on　a　patch　of　concrete　that　looked　no　different　from　any　other；　the
probe　sensed　ambush　and　screamed。　Finn　reset　the　counter　twice；　then　retreated；　still　unable　to
slow　the　scream　into　separate　clicks。　He　would　leave　the　rest　of　the　investigating　to　radiation
experts。　He　knew　enough　for　his　own　purposes。　He　knew　that　the　U…235　was　unshielded；　and
that　the　two　pieces　had　been　brought　together　as　they　were　stolen；　irradiating　the　concrete　floor
and　probably　at　least　one　of　the　thieves。
The　mental　vision　of　shadowy　men　limned　in　the　blue　light　of　atomic　radiation　possessed　Finn’s
mind　for　a　moment；　and　then；　like　an　echo；　the　face　of　the　experimenter　who　had　found　the
front　lines　of　war　in　a　New　Mexico　lab。　If　the　thief　–　or　more　likely；　thieves　–　were　badly　injured
by　radiation；　they　might　crawl　away　and　die　like　poisoned　rats　in　some　hidden　hole。　How　would
he　find　them　if　they　went　to　ground？　How　could　anyone　find　them？
Less　than　two　days。
Sweat　gathered　on　Finn’s　ribs　in　spite　of　the　cool　morning。　The　canister　yawned　vacantly　at　him；
its　black　cavity　big　enough　to　swallow　a　world。
As　Finn　backed　away　from　the　canister；　the　counter’s　buzz　diminished　rapidly。　He　clicked
downward　through　the　scale；　watching　the　needle　drop。　With　a　feeling　of　relief；　he　reached　for
the　cutoff　switch。　But　the　counter　buzzed　suddenly　and　the　needle　slapped　against　its　peg。
Finn　stood　absolutely　still。　Just　when　he　thought　he　understood　the　capabilities　of　radiation；　it
ambushed　him　with　no　warning　at　all。　Silence；　then　screams。
Sweating；　Finn　reset　the　counter。　Coughlan；　standing　behind　Finn　near　the　door；　walked　toward
the　shrill…voiced　box。　The　counter　screamed　as　Coughlan　approached　the　probe。
“What　the　hell？”
Coughlan’s　question　was　cut　short　by　the　counter’s　scream　as　he　neared　the　probe。　Finn　quickly
shifted　the　dial；　diminishing　the　counter’s　sensitivity　until　the　clicks　were　crisp　and　separate
again。　He　looked　speculatively　at　Coughlan；　then　pointed　the　probe　toward　him。
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The　clicks　sped　up。
“Hey！”　said　Coughlan。　“What　the　hell　do　you　think　you’re　doing？”
“Stand　still。”
Coughlan　responded　to　the　authority　in　Finn’s　voice。　The　probe　clicked　faster　as　it　approached
Coughlan；　then　slowed　as　Finn　pulled　it　back。
“How　are　you　making　it　do　that？　What　are　those　clicks？”
“I’m　not　making　it　do　anything；”　said　Finn。　“You　are。”　Finn　moved　the　probe　again；　advancing
and　retreating　from　Coughlan。　The　clicks　rose　and　fell　in　a　ripple　of　sound。
“Whaddya　mean？”　said　Coughlan。　“Get　that　damn　thing　away　from　me！”
“You　handled　the　canister；”　said　Finn。　Before　Coughlan　could　deny　it；　Finn　pointed　the　probe　at
the　agent’s　right　hand。　“You　picked　up　the　cover；　most　likely。”
Color　drained　from　Coughlan’s　face　as　the　counter　screamed　the　answer　to　Finn’s　accusation。
Red　splotches　along　the　line　of　the　agent’s　jaw　stood　out　against　the　paleness　of　fear。
“The　thieves；”　said　Finn；　pointing　the　probe　as　though　it　were　a　flashlight　illuminating　a　dark
room；　“opened　the　can；　pulled　out　the　first　piece　and　set　it　down　near　the　lid。　Then　they　pulled
out　that；”　the　wand　pointed　at　the　dark；　solid　damper　that　had　separated　the　two　pieces　of
U…235；　“and　–　“　He　stopped　talking　abruptly。　He　knew　the　thieves　had　taken　out　the　second
piece　of　uranium　and　set　it　down　next　to　the　first；　causing　a　storm　of　radiation。　But　he　could　not
say　that　to　men　who　were　not　even　cleared　to　know　that　they　were　looking　for　uranium。
He　turned　off　the　radiation　counter。　“Riley；　I　saw　a　hose　out　front。　Drag　it　in　here。　Coughlan；
start　peeling。　When　you　get　to　your　skin；　wish　you　could　zip　out　of　it；