cc.vixen03-第20节

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　Fawkes　rapped　his　pipe　on　the　Minister's　desk；　snapping　the　stem。　〃No；　dammit！　My　farm　was　only　the　opening　thrust。　Lusana　and　his　bloody　mob　have　got　to　be　stopped　before　the　whole　country　runs　red。〃
　〃The　risks　far　outweigh　the　possible　benefits。〃
　〃I　won't　fail；〃　Fawkes　said　coldly。
　De　Vaal　looked　like　a　man　torn　apart　by　his　conscience。　He　paced　the　room　nervously；　then　stopped　and　stared　down　at　Fawkes。　〃I　cannot　promise　to　evacuate　you　successfully　when　the　time　es。　And　the　Defence　Ministry　will；　of　course；　deny　any　association　with　the　venture　if　you　are　uncovered。〃
　〃Understood。〃　Fawkes　heaved　a　great　sigh　of　relief。　Then　a　thought　occurred　to　him。　〃The　train；　Minister。　How　was　it　you　traveled　from　the　operating　room　in　a　Durban　hospital　to　the　Pembroke　rail　yard　so　quickly？〃
　For　the　first　time；　De　Vaal　smiled。　〃A　simple　ruse。　I　went　in　the　front　door　of　the　hospital　and　out　the　back。　An　ambulance　carried　me　to　the　Heidriek　Air　Base；　where　I　took　a　military　jet　to　an　airstrip　near　Pem…broke。　The　train　belongs　to　our　President。　I　merely　borrowed　it　for　a　few　hours　while　it　was　traveling　to　a　scheduled　overhaul。〃
　〃But　why　the　plicated　illusion？〃
　〃I　often　find　it　necessary　to　cloud　my　movements；〃　De　Vaal　answered。　〃And；　I　think　you'll　agree；　Operation　Wild　Rose　is　not　exactly　a　product　we　want　to　advertise。〃
　〃I　see　your　point。〃
　〃And　you；　Captain　Fawkes。　Can　you　drop　from　sight　without　prodding　suspicious　minds？〃
　Fawkes　nodded　solemnly。　〃I've　left　Umkono　under　a　cloud　of　grief。　My　friends　and　neighbors　think　I've　returned　to　Scotland。〃
　〃All　right；　then。〃　De　Vaal　moved　behind　his　desk；　wrote　on　a　slip　of　paper；　and　passed　it　across　to　Fawkes。　〃Here　is　the　address　of　a　hotel　ten　miles　south　of　the　city。　Check　into　a　room　and　wait　for　the　necessary　papers　and　instructions　to　get　the　ball　rolling。　As　of　this　moment；　the　government　of　South　Africa　considers　you　dead。〃　He　relaxed　his　shoul…ders。　〃God　help　us　now。〃
　〃God？　No；　I　don't　think　so。〃　An　evil　light　began　to　dance　in　Fawkes's　eyes。　〃I　sincerely　doubt　he'd　want　any　part　of　it。〃
　On　the　floor　below　the　Minister's　office　Colonel　Zeegler　sat　alone　in　an　operations　room　and　paced　back　and　forth　in　front　of　a　large　table　stacked　with　glossy　photographs。
　For　the　first　time　in　his　military　career　he　was　totally　baffled。　The　raid　on　the　Fawkes　farm　had　an　aura　of　intrigue　about　it　that　did　not　fit　the　usual　terrorist　scheme。　It　was　acplished　with　too　much　precision　and　sophistication　for　the　AAR。　Besides；　it　was　not　Lusana's　style。　Granted；　he　might　order　the　deaths　of　white　soldiers；　but　he　would　never　condone　the　murders　of　Fawkes's　Bantu　workers；　especially　the　women　and　children。　That　part　ran　counter　to　the　insurgent　leader's　known　strategy。
　〃Who；　then？〃　Zeegler　mused　aloud。
　Certainly　not　black　units　of　the　South　African　Defence　Forces。　That　would　have　been　impossible　without　Zeegler's　knowledge。
　He　stopped　and　shuffled　the　photographs　taken　by　a　team　of　inves…tigators　after　the　raid。　No　witnesses　were　ever　found　and　none　of　the　raiders　caught。　It　was　too　perfect　in　execution；　too　pletely　free　of　flaws。
　The　slightest　clue　to　the　attacker's　identity　eluded　him。　But　his　years　of　experience　told　him　it　was　there；　obscured　in　the　background。
　Like　a　surgeon　examining　X　rays　in　preparation　for　a　delicate　opera…tion；　Zeegler　picked　up　a　magnifying　glass　and　for　the　twentieth　time　began　scrutinizing　each　photograph。
　
　22
　
　The　Air　Malawi　jet　from　Lourenco　Marques；　Mozambique；　touched　down　and　taxied　to　the　terminal　of　Pretoria's　airport。　A　few　moments　after　the　whine　of　the　engines　had　faded　away；　the　boarding　ramp　was　extended；　and　the　passengers　nodded　their　good…byes　to　the　pretty　African　stewardess　and　made　their　way　toward　the　terminal。
　Major　Thomas　Machita　followed　the　other　travelers；　and　when　his　turn　came；　he　handed　his　falsified　Mozambique　passport　to　the　immigra…tion　official。
　The　white　South　African　studied　the　passport　photo　and　the　name；　George　Yariko；　beneath　it　and　smiled　sagaciously。　〃That　makes　three　trips　to　Pretoria　in　the　last　month；　Mr。　Yariko。〃　He　nodded　at　the　courier　briefcase　chained　to　Machita's　wrist。　〃Instructions　to　your　consul　seem　to　be　running　hot　and　heavy；　as　of　late。〃
　Machita　shrugged。　〃If　my　foreign　department　doesn't　send　me　to　our　consulate　in　Pretoria；　they　send　me　to　a　consulate　somewhere　else。　No　offense　intended；　sir；　but　I'd　prefer　a　Paris　or　London　delivery。〃
　The　official　motioned　him　toward　the　exit。　〃I　look　forward　to　seeing　you　again；〃　he　said　with　mock　courtesy。　〃Have　an　enjoyable　stay。〃
　Machita　smiled；　showing　every　tooth；　and　casually　made　his　way　through　the　terminal　to　the　taxi　stand　outside。　He　waved　his　free　hand　at　the　first　cab　heading　a　long　line。　The　driver　acknowledged　him　and　started　his　engine。　But　suddenly；　before　he　could　pull　up　to　his　fare；　another　cab　swung　out　from　the　rear　of　the　line；　cut　in；　and　skidded　to　a　stop　in　front　of　Machita　amid　a　cacophony　of　angry　shouting　and　horn　honking　from　the　outraged　cabbies　awaiting　their　rightful　rotation。
　Machita　found　the　performance　amusing。　He　threw　the　bag　into　the　backseat　and　followed　it。　〃The　Mozambique　Consulate；〃　he　said　to　the　aggressive　driver。
　The　cabby　merely　tipped　his　cap；　set　the　meter；　and　steered　into　traffic。　Machita　leaned　back　and　idly　watched　the　scenery。　He　unlocked　the　wrist　chain　and　threw　it　into　the　briefcase。　The　Mozambique　consul；　friendly　to　the　AAR　cause；　allowed　Machita　and　his　operatives　to　e　and　go　under　the　guise　of　diplomatic　couriers。　After　a　proper　length　of　time　spent　enjoying　the　Consulate's　hospitality；　they　then　retired　to　an　inconspicuous　hotel　and　went　about　their　business　of　espionage。
　Something　in　the　back　of　Machita's　brain　blinked　a　warning　signal。　He　sat　up　and　studied　the　landscape。　The　driver　was　not　taking　a　direct　route　to　the　Consulate；　instead；　the　cab's　hood　ornament　was　pointed　toward　the　bustling　downtown　business　section　of　Pretoria。
　Machita　tapped　the　driver　on　the　shoulder。　〃I　am　not　a　tourist　to　be　gouged；　my　friend。　I　suggest　you　take　the　nearest　shortcut　to　my　destina…tion　if　you　expect　to　get　paid。〃
　His　only　reply　was　an　indifferent　shrug。　After　a　few　more　minutes　of　weaving　through　the　busy　traffic　pattern；　the　driver　turned　into　the　underground　parking　lot　of　a　large　department　store。　Machita　needed　no　extrasensory　perception　to　detect　the　trap。　His　tongue　swelled　like　a　dry　sponge　and　he　could　hear　his　heart　begin　to　pound。　He　carefully　clicked　open　the　briefcase　snaps　and　slipped　out　a　Mauser　。38　automatic。
　At　the　lowest　level　of　the　parking　lot　the　driver　eased　the　cab　into　an　empty　space　against　the　wall　farthest　from　the　entrance　tunnel　and　stopped。　Then　he　turned　around　and　found　the　barrel　of　Machita's　gun　caressing　the　tip　of　his　nose。
　It　was　the　first　chance　Machita　had　had　to　observe　the　cabby's　face。　The　smooth　dark　skin　and　facial　features　were　those　of　an　Indian；　a　race　that　numbered　more　than　half　a　million　in　South　Africa。　The　man　smiled　a　genuine　relaxed　smile。　There　was　none　of　the　uneasiness　about　him　that　Machita　expected。
　〃I　think　we　can　dispense　with　the　theatrics；　Major　Machita；〃　said　the　cabby。　〃You　are　in　no　danger。〃
　Machita's　gun　hand　held　steady。　He　did　not　dare　turn　to　scan　the　parking　area　for　the　army　of　heavily　armed　men　he　was　sure　were　there。　〃Whatever　happens；　you　die　with　me；〃　he　said。
　〃You　are　an　emotional　man；〃　the　driver　remarked。　〃Stupid；　actually。　It　bodes　ill　for　a　man　of　your　occupation　to　react　like　an　adolescent　caught　robbing　a　sweets　shop。〃
　〃Can　the　fat　talk；　man；〃　Machita　snapped。　〃What's　the　gig？〃
　The　driver　laughed。　〃Spoken　like　the　true　American　black　that　you　are。　Luke　Sampson；　of　Los　Angeles；　alias　Charley　Le　Mat；　of　Chicago；　alias　Major　Thomas　Machita；　of　the　AAR；　and　God　only　knows　how　many　others。〃
　A　chill　gripped　Machita。　His　mind　hunted　frantically　for　answers；　answers　to　who　the　cabby　was　and　how　he　knew　so　much　about　him。　〃You　are　mistaken。　My　name　is　Yariko；　George　Yariko。〃
　〃Whatever　forts　you；〃　the　cabby　said。　〃However；　you'll　pardon　me　if　I　find　it　more　expedient　to　conduct　my　conversation　with　Major　Machita。〃
　〃Who　are　you？〃
　〃For　an　intelligence　man；　your　powers　of　perception　are　woefully　lacking。〃　The　voice　altered　subtly　into　an　English　now　tinged　with　an　Afrikaans　accent。　〃We　have　met　twice　before。〃
　Machita　slowly　lowered　the　gun。　〃Emma？〃
　〃Ah；　the　haze　lifts。〃
　Machita　expelled　a　great　sigh　of　relief　and　put　the　gun　back　in　the　briefcase。　〃How　in　hell　did　you　know　I　was　arriving　on　that　particular　flight？〃
　〃A　crystal　ball；〃　said　Emma；　obviously　not　willing　to　share　his　secrets。
　Machita　stared　at　the　man　in　the　driver's　seat；　taking　in　every　minute　detail　of　the　face；　the　smooth；　unblemished　skin。　There　wasn't　the　slightest　resemblance　to　the　gardener　and　the　cafe　waiter　who　had　claimed　to　be　Emma　on　the　two　previous　occasions　they'd　met。
　〃I　was　hoping　you'd　contact　me；　but　I　hadn't　expected　you　quite　this　soon。〃
　〃I　have　e　up　with　something　I　think　Hiram　Lusana　will　find　interesting。〃
　〃How　much　this　time？〃　asked　Machita　dryly。
　There　was　no　hesitation。　〃Two　million　United　States　dollars。〃
　Machita　grimaced。　〃