Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第40部分

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slammed　against　the　vat。　There　was　a　grunt；　then　the　snarl　of　ripping　cloth。　Franco　shrieked；
high　and　terrible；　a　sound　of　primal　terror。　The　sound　climbed　unendurably；　then　stopped　as
abruptly　as　it　had　begun。
Finn　appeared　suddenly　out　of　the　vat’s　odorous　shadows。
“Tú！”　said　Finn；　pointing　to　Griego。　“Ven　acá！　Pronto！”
Riley　stared。　For　the　first　time　he　confronted　the　fact　that　this　might　be　more　than　a　brutal　bluff。
Finn’s　voice　was　as　frightening　as　the　bloody　knife　in　his　hand。
Griego　looked　around　hurriedly；　but　there　was　no　escape。　He　began　speaking　so　quickly　that　his
words　sounded　alike。　Finn　listened。　Gradually　his　face　lost　its　savagery。　He　asked　a　few　clipped
questions。　Griego　answered　eagerly。　Finn　spoke　again；　gesturing　to　the　vat　behind　which　Franco
lay。　Griego　nodded。
Finn　put　his　knife　back　in　his　boot。
Riley　started　breathing　again　until　Finn　grabbed　Griego’s　left　foot；　looked　at　the　sole　of　the
huarache；　then　released　the　foot　so　quickly　that　Griego　staggered。
“Bueno；”　said　Finn。　“ándale！”　He　turned　toward　Riley。　“Go　up　to　the　house　and　call　Coughlan。
Tell　him　to　surround　the　Fragrant　Petal　flower　shop　in　Little　Tokyo。　Surround　it；　seal　it　off；　but
don’t　go　in。　Understand？　I　don’t　want　anyone　leaving　that　place；　and　I　don’t　want　anyone　going
inside　until　I　get　there。”
“Right；”　said　Riley。　He　hesitated。　“Look；　you　didn’t　really　hurt　that　guy；　did　you？”
“Make　the　call；”　said　Finn；　turning　back　to　the　braceros。　“I’ll　clean　up　here。”
San　Francisco
28　Hours　39　Minutes　After　Trinity
The　curtain　fell　into　place。　Vanessa　turned　and　moved　across　the　room；　passing　Hecht　without
looking　at　him。
“The　mortuary　was　closed；”　he　began；　closing　the　door　behind　him。　“I　couldn’t　hear　anyone
moving　around　there　or　next　door。　The　garage　was　open。”　He　watched　Vanessa　warily。　“There
weren’t　any　vehicles　inside；　not　even　a　hearse。　I　tried　the　inside　door　and　–　are　you　listening？”
Vanessa　opened　her　purse；　screwed　the　silencer　onto　her　pistol　and　went　to　the　door。　“The
shops　were　locked；　one　garage　was　open；　there　was　nothing　inside；”　she　summarized。　“Anything
else？”
“The　door　inside　the　garage　was　locked；　too。”
“That’s　all？”
“Uh　–　yeah。”
“Then　shut　up。”
Vanessa　stood　with　one　hand　on　the　doorknob。　In　her　other　hand；　the　silencer　made　the　barrel
of　the　gun　look　unbalanced。　She　listened　intently。　Suddenly　she　opened　the　door；　keeping　it　as　a
shield　between　herself　and　the　hallway。
Slaven　hurried　into　the　room；　dragging　a　Mexican　teenager　with　him。　The　boy　stared　around　the
room；　his　eyes　large　and　dark。　“Where’s　Uncle　Refugio？”
Vanessa　looked　at　Slaven；　who　had　not　let　go　of　the　boy’s　arm。
“His　name　is　Jaime　Reyes。　He　stopped　for　gas；”　said　Slaven　tersely。　“He　works　in　his　father’s
mortuary。”
Jaime　looked　at　the　people　in　the　room；　confused。　Then　he　focused　on　Slaven；　the　man　who　had
known　so　much　about　his　uncle。　“You　said　Refugio　needed　me。”
“Yes；”　said　Vanessa　smoothly。　“He　wanted　you　to　tell　us　about　the　Japanese　man　in　the　Army
uniform。”
Jaime　looked　at　each　face；　white　skin　and　light　eyes　–　strangers。　He　looked　away。　“All　the
Japanese　left　a　long　time　ago。　They　went　to　prison　camps。”
“This　one　came　back。”
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Jaime　shrugged。　“Then　you　know　more　than　I　do；　se？orita。”
Slaven　raised　his　hand。　Jaime　did　not　see　the　motion；　but　Hecht　and　Vanessa　did。　She　shook　her
head　slightly。　Slaven’s　hand　returned　to　his　side。
“The　Japanese　man　met　Refugio　at　the　Fragrant　Petal　yesterday；”　Vanessa　said　coolly。　“Refugio
was　sick。　Now　the　Japanese　is　gone。　Where　did　he　go？　Did　he　take　Refugio　with　him？”
“Quien　sabe？”　said　Jaime　indifferently。
Vanessa’s　eyes　narrowed。　“I’ll　pay　you　one　hundred　dollars　if　you　answer　my　questions。”
Jaime　looked　at　her　with　contempt。　“Only　a　gringo　would　sell　his　family　for　one　hundred
dollars。”
“I　see；”　said　Vanessa。　“How　much　do　Mexicans　charge？　Two　hundred？　Three？”
Jaime　spat　on　the　floor　and　turned　to　leave。　Slaven’s　open…handed　blow　sent　the　slightly　built
boy　reeling　into　Hecht’s　lap。　Jaime’s　eyes　were　wide　and　dark　with　shock。　Blood　lined　his　lips
where　flesh　had　split　against　teeth。
Slaven　advanced　on　the　boy。
“He　can’t　be　more　than　fourteen！”　protested　Hecht；　struggling　up　to　block　Slaven’s　advance。
“Communists　don’t　make　war　on　children！”
Slaven　turned　to　Vanessa。　“Do　we　really　need　this　bourgeois　shit？”
Vanessa　looked　at　Hecht。　He　glared　back；　showing　more　resolution　in　defending　the　enemy　than
he　had　in　aiding　her。
If　Jaime　were　killed；　Hecht　would　rebel；　and　it　was　clear　that　Jaime　would　have　to　be　killed。　Her
silenced　gun　coughed　twice。　Hecht　crumpled；　his　eyes　wide　with　disbelief。　Vanessa　prodded　him
in　the　groin　with　her　foot。　When　he　did　not　move；　she　faced　Jaime　again。
“Tell　me　about　Refugio　and　this　Japanese。”
Jaime　stood　mute；　staring　at　Hecht　and　shaking　his　head　in　silent　negation。　Vanessa　hissed　a
Russian　epithet。　The　impact　of　Slaven’s　fist　sent　Jaime　spinning。　Feet　tangled　with　Hecht’s　legs。
He　fell；　unconscious；　before　Slaven　could　hit　him　again。
“Not　like　that；　you　ox！”　Vanessa　snarled。　“He’s　no　good　to　us　with　a　broken　neck！”
Vanessa　slapped　Jaime　aeasured　blows。　His　eyes　focused。　Fear　and　pride
fought　for　control　of　him。　Pride　won。　He　would　not　show　weakness　in　front　of　a　woman。　He
spat　in　her　face。
The　spittle　slid　down　Vanessa’s　cheek；　but　she　seemed　not　to　notice。　She　seized　Jaime’s　hand　and
bent　his　index　finger　backward　until　it　broke。　Jaime’s　scream　was　cut　off　by　Slaven’s　big　hand；
but　the　boy’s　writhings　continued　as　Vanessa　ground　bone　against　broken　bone。
Suddenly；　Jaime　was　talking；　words　tumbling　out；　saying　whatever　would　stop　the　pain。
“The　Japanese　man　–　told　us　to　go　for　three　days。　He　stayed　–　with　Refugio。”　Jaime’s　breath
shuddered；　but　his　voice　did　not　break。　“The　Japanese　man　stayed。　Refugio　is　–　very　sick。”
“Are　they　still　in　the　funeral　home？　Tell　me　quickly！”
Jaime　cringed。　“I　don’t　know！　I　was　one　of　the　first　to　leave！”
But　Jaime’s　eyes　had　shifted　away　from　hers；　undermining　the　plea　in　his　voice。　Vanessa’s　hand
closed　over　his。　Jaime　screamed　again。
“They　were　afraid　of　you！　Velasquez　told　my　uncle　about　you。　The　Japanese　decided　to　leave。
They　talked　about　prison　camps。　I　think　–　I　think　they　will　take　Refugio　there　until　he　is　better。”
“Where？”
“Where　all　the　Japanese　went。　Over　the　mountains。　Manzanar。”
Vanessa　crouched　over　Jaime；　her　eyes　hooded；　weighing　what　the　boy　had　said。　It　made　sense
except　for　the　part　about　Refugio　going　to　Manzanar。　From　Hecht’s　description；　he　was　too
weak　to　make　the　trip。　He　was　probably　dead；　laid　out　on　a　tabic　in　the　Rincón　mortuary。　If　not；
he　soon　would　be。　She　would　see　to　it。
“The　Japanese　man；”　said　Vanessa　suddenly。　“Who　is　he？”
“They　called　him　Kestrel；”　said　Jaime　weakly；　faint　with　pain。
Vanessa　tweaked　Jaime’s　broken　finger。
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“Please；”　he　said；　crying　hopelessly；　“That’s　all　I　know　about　him。　Japanese　–　Kestrel。　Refugio
knew　him　in　Mexico。　That’s　all；　I　swear　on　my　mother’s　honor。”
Before　Vanessa　could　touch　the　boy　again；　Slaven　called　her　name。　She　looked　up。　He　was　at　the
window；　watching　the　flower　shop。　His　body　was　tense；　poised；　a　fighter　waiting　for　the　bell　to
sound。
“What　is　it？”　said　Vanessa。
“Cars。　Four；　five；　six。　Four　men　to　a　car。　More　in　the　alley；　I’ll　bet。”
“Police？”
“No　uniforms；”　said　Slaven；　“but　they’re　police。　You　can　smell　it。”
“Are　they　coming　here？”
“No；　they’re　surrounding　the　Fragrant　Petal。　They’ve　got　guns　out。　They　kicked　in　the　door　of
the　shop。”
Vanessa　swore　savagely。　If　Refugio　were　still　alive；　he　was　now　out　of　her　reach。　So；　perhaps；
was　the　uranium。
“What　now？”　said　Slaven。
Vanessa　glanced　from　Hecht’s　body　to　Jaime；　pale；　sweating；　cradling　his　maimed　hand。　He
could　tell　her　nothing　more；　but　he　could　tell　the　Americans　everything。　She　knew　he　was　too
young　to　read　the　death　in　her　eyes。　He　would　suspect　nothing　until　the　instant　he　felt　the　cold
mouth　of　the　silencer　against　his　ear。
The　soft　sound　of　the　shot　drew　Slaven’s　attention　away　from　the　street　for　an　instant。　Vanessa
stood；　letting　Jaime’s　body　slide　to　the　floor。　She　went　to　the　window；　careful　not　to　show
herself。　A　half…block　away；　the　street　was　filling　with　men　in　dark　suits。
“Put　them　in　a　closet；”　said　Vanessa。
“And　then　run？”
“No。　We’ll　wait　and　see　what　the　Americans　find。”
San　Francisco
29　Hours　After　Trinity
Finn　pletely；　like　an　animal　sensing　the　approach　of　its　prey。　He　sat　up　in
the　seat。　San　Francisco　sped　by　him　on　either　side；　a　kaleidoscope　of　buildings　and　people。　Riley
glanced　at　Finn；　then　turned　his　attention　back　to　the　city　streets。　He　gunned　through　a　traffic
signal　just　as　it　changed　to　red。　Finn　said　nothing。　He　had　not　spoken　since　leaving　the　winery。
He　had　simply　tossed　Riley　the　car　keys；　wedged　himself　into　the　front　seat　of　the　car　and　fallen
asleep。
“Don’t　worry；”　Riley　said　curtly。　“I　won’t　include　your　stunt　in　my　report。　Mr。　Hoover　wouldn’t
understand。　He　doesn’t　believe　in　intimidating　crooks　–　just　agents。　His　motto　is　don’t　hit　or
threaten　the　bad　guys；　just　convict　them。”
Riley　looked　quickly　at　his　passenger。　Finn’s　expression　was　bleak；　but　not　as　forbidding　as　it
had　been　when　he　had　walked　out　of　the　winery。
“No；”　continued　Riley；　“Mr。　Hoover　doesn’t　appreciate　scare　tactics　at　all。”　He　drew　a　deep
breath。　“That　was　a　scare　tactic；　wasn’t　it？　I　mean；　you　didn’t　really　castrate　that　poor
sonofabiten。”
Finn　looked　through　Riley。　He　had　dreamed　of　children　and　Okinawa　again。
“Did　you？”　Riley　repeated。
“What　would　you　have　done？”
“I’m　not　you！”
“That’s　right。　You’re　not　me。”
Riley　looked　away　from　Finn’s　pale；　measuring　eyes。　Neither　man　spoke　again　until　Riley
stopped　the　car　in　front　of　the　Fragrant　Petal。　Finn　took　one　look　at　the　flower　shop’s　splintered
door　and　began　swearing　in　soft；　vicious　Spanish。
“I　told　Coughlan　to　wait　for　us；”　said　Riley。
Page　122
Finn　grabbed　the　radiation　counter；　slammed　the　car　door　and　stalked　toward　Coughlan；　who
was　standing　with　a　group　of　agents　on　the　sidewalk　in　front　of　the　shop。
“　–　and　the　old　lady　two　doors　down　said　that　they　all　left　about　an　hour　ago；”　continued　an
agent；　looking　at　his　notes。　“I’m　not　sure　about　that　last　bit。　You　know　these　people。　If　you’re
not　one　of　–　“
“Coughlan；”　snarled　Finn；　“you　were　told　to　stay　the　hell　out　of　this　place。”
Coughlan　lit　a　cigaret；　blew　smoke　over　Finn’s　shoulder。　“That　so？　The　word　I　got　was　to
surround　and　take　the　Fragrant　Petal。”　He　looked　over　Finn’s　shoulder　to　Riley。　“Right；　kid？”
Riley　studied　Coughlan　for　a　moment；　then　said；　“Wrong。”
Coughlan　covered　his　surprise　with　a　shrug。　“That’s　the　problem　with　verbal　orders　–　no
records。”
“Hijo　de　la　gran　puta！”
“What’s　that　mean？”　demanded　Coughlan；　turning　back　toward　Finn。
“It　means　you’re　a　lying　bastard　whose　mother　sold　her　cunt　for　a　living。”　He　felt　rage　stretch
over　him　like　a　tight；　hot　skin。　“Get　out　of　my　way。”
Coughlan　flushed。　His　hands　became　fists。　Finn　waited；　smiling；　his　eyes　pale　and　intent。　After　a