Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第18部分

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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　elation　from　showing。　He　had　already　said　too　much；
but　it　did　not　matter。　Refugio　and　his　men　would　be　dead　before　they　could　give　away　any
secrets。
At　Refugio’s　signal；　Salvador　stepped　up；　gripped　the　canister’s　handle；　and　was　nearly　pulled
off　of　his　feet。　The　canister　contained　200　pounds　of　lead　shielding。　Masarek　watched　Salvador’s
veins　thicken　and　pulse　across　his　forehead　until　the　claw…shaped　scar　was　crimson。　The　canister
rocked；　lifted；　then　settled　with　a　clang　onto　the　cement　floor。
“Get　back；”　Masarek　said。
Salvador　stepped　back；　watching　contemptuously　as　the　smaller　man　tested　the　canister’s　weight。
Masarek　could　barely　rock　the　can。　He　stared　at　it；　assessing　the　unexpected　barrier　it
represented。
Even　if　they　could　lift　the　can；　its　awkward；　unexpected　bulk　would　slow　them　dangerously。
Worse；　once　Refugio　and　his　men　were　dead；　Masarek　and　Vanessa　would　not　be　able　to　move
the　canister　by　themselves。
“Open　it；”　said　Masarek；　stepping　back。
Salvador　worked　over　the　heavy　latches　that　secured　the　lid　of　the　canister。　They　opened　stiffly。
With　a　grunt；　Salvador　lifted　off　the　heavy　lid。　A　piece　of　silver…white　metal　with　the　blunt…nosed
shape　of　a　bullet　gleamed　inside　the　thick…walled　canister。　Though　the　piece　of　metal　was　barely
bigger　than　Salvador’s　fist；　it　was　surprisingly　heavy。
Carefully；　Salvador　lifted　out　and　set　aside　the　hunk　of　metal。　It　wobbled　on　the　concrete　floor；
then　settled　on　its　blunt　nose。
The　next　piece　inside　the　can　was　a　plug　of　slate…colored　metal。　Beneath　the　plug　was　a　second
piece　of　pale　metal；　nearly　three　times　the　size　of　the　first　piece。　It　was　spherical　and　contained　an
indentation　the　size　and　shape　of　the　blunt　bullet。
Salvador　set　the　larger　sphere　next　to　the　smaller　one。　He　did　not　notice　the　faint　blue　glow　that
licked　over　the　facing　surfaces　of　the　spheres。
Masarek　looked　at　the　three　pieces　of　metal　and　decided　quickly　to　leave　the　cylinder。　Vanessa
had　spoken　only　of　the　two　white　pieces　of　metal。
“Tell　Lopez　to　get　the　small　piece；”　said　Masarek。　“Salvador；　the　large　one。　No；”　he　said；　as
Refugio　bent　to　retrieve　the　dark　cylinder。　“We　don’t　need　that　one。　It　will　just　get　in　the　way。”
The　vague　blue　glow　died　as　Lopez　removed　the　smaller　piece　of　pale　metal。　Salvador　picked　up
his　piece　awkwardly。
“Madre；”　he　muttered　in　Spanish；　“it’s　as　warm　as　a　woman’s　breast。”
“What　did　he　say？”　snapped　Masarek。
Refugio　shrugged。　“Nothing。　It　feels　to　him　like　a　woman’s　breast。”
Masarek　made　a　sound　of　disgust。　“Tell　them　to　move　quickly。　If　someone　finds　us　now；　we’re
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as　dead　as　that　sentry。”
They　hurried　to　the　van；　drove　quickly　between　rows　of　weapons；　then　headed　toward　the　gate。
Before　the　rain　stopped；　the　laundry　truck　with　Chinese　ideographs　and　the　number　7　on　its
door　left　Hunters　Point　as　easily　as　it　had　entered。
Alamogordo　Test　Range
Trinity　Site　Base　Camp
7　Minutes　Before　Trinity
The　desert　was　cold　and　black　beneath　ragged　clouds。　It　had　rained　intermittently　through　the
night；　and　lightning　had　walked　along　the　stretch　of　land　known　as　Jornada　del　Muerto。　Journey
of　Death。
Nine　miles　from　Ground　Zero；　General　Groves　waited　in　a　small　bunker。　A　short　distance　away；
Dr。　Robert　Oppenheimer　and　his　senior　staff　paced　in　other　bunkers；　trying　not　to　show　what
the　delays　had　cost　their　nerves。
The　test　should　have　been　over；　success　or　failure　measured　on　a　thousand　instruments；　but
nothing　was　ended；　nothing　settled。　Rare　summer　showers　had　delayed　the　0200　test　and　then
the　0300　test；　stretching　men’s　control；　making　them　overreact　to　distant　thunder。
General　Groves　waited；　outwardly　impassive。　Earlier　he　had　marched　Oppenheimer　up　and
down　the　base　camp；　trying　to　relax　the　brilliant；　nervous　scientist。　Relaxation　was　impossible。
Each　flurry　of　cold　rain；　each　delay；　had　heightened　the　tension　until　Groves　decided　to　test　the
bomb　at　0530；　come　hell　or　high　water。
He　regretted　that　the　weather　would　keep　one　of　Colonel　Tibbets’　men　from　overlying　the　site
in　a　B…29；　but　the　test　itself　was　more　important　than　the　flight。　Tibbets　would　just　have　to　wait
until　Japan　to　see　what　kind　of　air　turbulence　was　generated　by　an　atomic　bomb。
Though　it　was　futile　in　the　darkness；　Groves　found　himself　peering　toward　the　100…foot…high
steel　tower。　Suspended　inside　that　tower　was　a　plutonium　bomb；　impervious　to　the　fears　and
aspirations　of　men；　illuminated　by　the　random　brilliance　of　lightning。
A　man　stood　next　to　Groves；　staring　into　the　dark　as　the　General　was　staring。　A　match　flared；
then　seemed　to　divide　in　two　as　the　end　of　the　man’s　cigaret　ignited。　The　man　was　dressed　in
civilian　clothes；　although　his　posture　was　military。　Groves　knew　his　name　was　Lattimer；　but　had
never　learned　his　first　name。
“I　still　don’t　like　it；”　said　Lattimer。　“We　bust　our　asses　keeping　this　a　secret；　and　then　you　pass
information　to　a　goddamn　Jap　spy。　I　hope　Finn　got　him　in　real　close。　Be　the　last　thing　that
bastard　sees　this　side　of　hell。”
Groves　turned　toward　Lattimer；　whose　face　was　suddenly　illuminated　by　the　glow　of　a　cigaret。
“You　better　hope　Kestrel　survives。　Then　the　war　hawks　on　Tojo’s　cabinet　will　have　something
new　to　think　about。　Or　would　you　rather　end　the　war　one　Jap　at　a　time？”
“No。　I’ve　been　there；　General。　Anything　is　better　than　that。”　The　man’s　cigaret　glowed　as　he
took　a　long　breath。　His　hands　dropped　to　the　heavily　smoked　glasses　he　had　been　issued。
“Christ！　Why　don’t　they　get　this　show　on　the　road！”
Alamogordo　Test　Range
3　Minutes　Before　Trinity
Kestrel　sat　in　his　parked　car；　a　darker　shade　of　black　against　the　desert　night。　Each　minute　was
one　closer　to　sunrise；　and　the　near…certainty　that　he　would　be　discovered；　yet　he　waited　with
unflinching　patience。
Less　than　twenty　minutes　until　dawn。　Kestrel　wondered　if　the　test　had　been　screened　from　him
by　ragged　curtains　of　unseasonable　rain。　If　so；　the　weapon　was　not　what　he　feared　and　dawn
would　come　only　once　today。
With　narrowed　eyes；　Kestrel　e