Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第9部分

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your　little　Rubia　how　it　was　with　your　time。”
“Not　a　goddamn　thing　happened；　as　usual。”
The　soldier　let　Rubia　open　his　shin　as　she　had　already　opened　his　pants。　She　stood　against　him　so
that　every　time　she　moved；　her　full　breasts　rubbed　over　his　skin。　He　watched　her　hands　and　his
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own　body；　liking　the　contrast　between　his　full　pink　flesh　and　her　narrow　brown　fingers。
“It　was　bad？”　said　Rubia　sympathetically；　kissing　his　neck。　She　disliked　kissing　her　tricks；　but
Kestrel　was　paying　her　to　make　the　gringo　feel　very　special。　“Pobre…cito；”　she　murmured；
licking　his　throat　with　slow；　deliberate　strokes。
“We　sat　and　fried　our　asses　on　the　same　goddamn　piece　of　sand　whle　they　measured　and
muttered。　I　mean；　who　the　fuck　cares　if　the　tower　is　exactly　five　miles　from　the　bunkers？　It’s
stupid！”
“Estupido；”　agreed　Rubia；　pulling　him　down　on　to　the　bed；　guiding　him　until　he　lay　on　his
stomach　with　her　astride　him；　kneading　the　white；　freckled　flesh　of　his　back。　“Muy　estupido。　To
sit　and　sweat　there　when　you　could　sweat　with　me　in　my　bed。”
The　lieutenant　gasped　as　her　hands　moved　between　his　legs。　He　tried　to　roll　onto　his　back；　but
Rubia　held　him　immobile。
“Not　yet；　muchacho；”　Rubia　said；　laughing　at　his　eagerness。
The　lieutenant　groaned　and　lay　facedown　on　the　mattress　again。　Rubia　bent　over　until　her　breasts
rested　on　his　back。　Her　teeth　bit　into　his　shoulder。　He　shuddered；　but　did　not　object。　Marks
from　other　bites　covered　his　back。
“I　do　not　believe；”　whispered　Rubia；　“that　a　man　like　you；　so　strong；　does　nothing　more　than　sit
in　the　sand　all　day。　Do　you　not　even　play　with　your　cock；　muchacho？”
Rubia　bit　the　soldier’s　ear　and　cheek　and　neck；　all　the　while　moving　her　hips　as　though　he　were
already　inside　her。　She　sat　up　and　turned　her　face　toward　the　screen。　Smiling；　she　put　her　hands
over　her　breasts　and　moved　her　hips　in　silent　invitation　to　Kestrel。
“Tú　eres　muy　macho；”　Rubia　said　in　a　husky　voice；　staring　at　the　screen　while　she　stroked　her
own　body。　“I　will　do　anything　you　want。　Anything。”
Kestrel　heard　the　promise　in　the　girl’s　voice。　The　lieutenant　heard　it　also。　He　moved
convulsively；　forcing　Rubia　to　let　him　roll　over。　When　he　was　lying　on　his　back；　Rubia　slowly
moved　her　hips　over　the　soldier　without　letting　him　penetrate　her；　teasing　him；　prolonging　his
pleasure。　Rubia　was　very　good　at　her　work；　a　natural　whore。
“Let　me　–　“　gasped　the　soldier；　his　hands　grabbing　Rubia’s　maddening　hips。
Rubia　laughed。　Her　laughter　sounded　genuine；　surprising　Kestrel。　He　had　not　thought　her
capable　of　emotion。　Then　he　realized　that　she　was　amused　by　the　man　who　was　helpless　between
her　experienced　legs。　Kestrel　felt　almost　sorry　for　the　young　lieutenant。
“No；　no；　muchacho；”　Rubia　laughed。　“You　have　not　yet　promised　to　me　that　you　will　come
back　soon。”　She　reached　down　and　pinched　him　firmly。　It　was　enough　to　dull　his　need　so　that
she　could　bring　him　to　an　even　sharper　pitch　of　excitement。　She　lay　full　length　on　him；　teasing
him　mercilessly。　“Promise　you　come　back　only　to　me。”
“I’ll　try　to　get　back　before　we　leave；”　he　groaned。
“Leave？”　Her　teeth　paused　above　the　vein　beating　blue　against　his　neck。　“You　come　back；　no？”
“I’ll　try。　But　the　tests　went　well。　Those　fly　boys　said　if　we　ever　got　to　Wendover；　the　drinks　were
on　them。”
“Wendover？”　said　Rubia；　fondling　him　with　her　tongue。　“Is　that　a　–　how　you　say　it　–　a　bar？”
The　soldier　laughed　and　pinched　her　nipples　hard　enough　to　hurt。　Rubia　did　not　pull　away；　she
was　used　to　rough　handling。
“No；　baby；”　said　the　lieutenant。　“Wendover　is　an　air…base　in　Utah。　But　don’t　worry。　I’m　not
going　way　up　there。　From　what　I　overheard　yesterday；　I’m　going　to　stay　in　the　goddamn　desert
with　that　goddamn　tower　and　all　those　goddamn　wires　going　out　across　the　flattest；　hottest
desert　this　side　of　hell。”
“Must　you　go　far　from　here？”　she　pouted。　“I　miss　you　when　you’re　gone　too　long。”
“Not　that　far；”　he　said；　grabbing　her　breasts。　“It’s　north　of　some　place　called　Magord　or
Amgordo；　some　Mex　name。　There’s　gonna　be　some　big　test　soon　and　we’re　supposed　to　be
Johnny　on　the　spot。”
“Test？”　asked　Rubia；　working　her　Angers　down　his　body。　“It　sounds　of　danger；　no？”
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“Shit；”　said　the　lieutenant　in　disgust。　“We　should　be　so　lucky。　Unless　they　give　purple　hearts　for
sunburn；　I’m　gonna　finish　this　damned　war　with　nothing　to　show　for　my　time。　Now　come　here！”
The　soldier　grabbed　a　handful　of　Rubia’s　tangled；　dark　blond　hair　and　forced　her　mouth　down
on　his。
Behind　the　screen；　Kestrel　squatted　on　his　heels；　waiting。　Either　conversation　or　sex　would　begin
soon。　If　it　was　the　latter；　he　could　get　out　of　this　grubby　peephole。
Rubia　freed　her　lips　and　tried　to　get　the　soldier　to　talk　more。　After　a　moment；　she　sensed　his
determination　and　knew　that　she　could　not　put　him　off　much　longer。　It　would　be　better　if　sex
appeared　to　be　her　desire；　too。
“No　more　talk；”　Rubia　said　in　a　low　voice　as　she　slid　off　his　white　body。　She　lay　on　her　back　and
moved　invitingly。　“Or　do　you　not　want　your　little　Rubia　like　she　wants　you？”
The　lieutenant　mounted　Rubia　in　an　ungainly　rush。
Silently；　Kestrel　eased　out　of　the　cramped　passageway　through　a　side　door；　removing　himself
from　the　purview　of　the　god’s　eye　staring　blindly　over　the　sweating　buttocks　of　the　red…headed
soldier。
Juarez
66　Hours　Before　Trinity
（Radio　transmission　received　by　Kestrel。　Decoded。）
WE　HAVE　NO　INDEPENDENT　CONFIRMATION　OF　YOUR　SUGGESTION　THAT　A
SPECIAL　WEAPON　IS　BEING　SHIPPED　OUT　OF　LOS　ALAMOS。
RUMORS　OF　IMPENDING　TEST　OF　NEW；　VERY　POTENT　AMERICAN　WEAPON。
IMPERATIVE　YOU　REMAIN　IN　JUAREZ　TO　CONFIRM　OR　DENY　RUMORS。
REPEAT。　IMPERATIVE。　MAJ。　GEN。　SEIZO　ARISUE　IMPERIAL　ARMY
INTELLIGENCE
Juarez
61　Hours　Before　Trinity
Takagura　Omi’s　house　was　on　the　edge　of　Colonia　Chino；　the　Oriental　ghetto　surrounded　by
Juarez。　It　was　a　cultural　rather　than　an　economic　ghetto；　since　Takagura　was　a　very　wealthy　man。
Some　of　his　business　dealings　were　legitimate。　Most　were　not。　In　1930；　his　export…import
business　had　been　financed　by　the　Japanese　Imperial　Army。　Today　the　business　thrived　by　itself；
especially　the　illegal　portions。　The　profits　went　into　financing　a　network　of　spies；　thugs　and
politicians　who　made　Takagura’s　influence　felt　from　Mexico　City　across　the　entire　northern　tier
of　Mexico；　and　into　the　Little　Tokyos　of　southwestern　America。　Takagura　was　still　an　officer　in
the　Imperial　Army；　a　believer　in　the　Son　of　Heaven’s　divinity；　and　a　fanatical　militarist。　His　utter
loyalty　to　Emperor　Hirohito　was　one　of　the　few　certainties　Kestrel　had　found　in　Juarez。
Kestrel　set　aside　his　cup　of　tea；　silently　wishing　it　had　been　coffee。　He　had　acquired　a　taste　for
coffee　in　America；　a　preference　that　was　reinforced　during　his　years　in　Lisbon。　Takagura’s　home；
however；　was　rigidly　in　accord　with　traditional　Japanese　diet　and　manners。　The　few　exceptions　–
shortwave　radio；　telephone；　electricity　–　did　not　include　such　Occidental　amenities　as　chairs；
raised　beds；　or　coffee。
The　sound　of　footsteps　came　through　translucent　walls。　Kestrel　turned　and　stood　up　in　a　single
motion　that　spoke　of　controlled　power。　He　waited；　motionless。　The　light　from　a　corner　lamp
poured　over　him；　making　the　silver　strands　of　hair　at　his　temples　gleam。　Outside　the　room；　a
silhouette　flowed　over　the　shoji　screen　like　a　black　ghost。　The　paper　screen　whispered　aside；
revealing　Ana　Oshiga；　Takagura’s　secretary。　She　bowed　and　greeted　him　in　precise　Japanese。
“I　hope　you　are　comfortable；　Kestrel…san。”
Kestrel　looked　at　Ana’s　pale；　heart…shaped　face。　Like　electricity　in　Takagura’s　traditional
Japanese　home；　Ana　did　not　wholly　fit　her　surroundings。
“Yes；　Ana…san；”　he　answered　politely；　although　he　had　not　slept　at　all　and　had　yet　to　wash　the
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whorehouse　grime　off　his　body。
Ana　naturally　walked　with　the　long…legged　stride　of　an　American　woman；　but　she　was　hobbled
now　by　a　narrow　kimono。　Her　voice；　too；　was　American；　pitched　for　life　lived　behind　plaster
rather　than　paper　walls。　As　with　most　Nisei　and　Isei；　she　was　taller　than　the　Japanese　norm。
“The　honored　wife　of　Omi…san　said　that　you　requested　my　presence；”　Ana　said。
“English；　please；”　said　Kestrel。　Although　he　trusted　his　host’s　loyalty；　Kestrel　himself　had
bribed　too　many　servants　to　trust　Takagura’s。　“Did　you　finish　interviewing　Refugio’s　whores
after　I　left　with　Rubia？”
Kestrel’s　face　did　not　show　his　distaste　for　prostitutes　and　hours　spent　watching　their　work。
Ana’s　face　did；　although　she　had　done　no　more　than　question　the　women。　He　had　seen　Mexican
sluts　condescend　to　Ana；　a　woman　they　considered　their　sexual　and　racial　inferior。　He
understood　Ana’s　hatred　of　them。　He　even　sympathized。　He　did　not　let　sympathy　get　in　the　way
of　necessity；　however。　He　needed　a　fluent；　trustworthy　translator。　Ana。
“They　added　nothing　new；”　answered　Ana；　trying　to　be　as　expressionless　as　Kestrel；　and　failing。
“The　number　of　Americans　from　Socorro　and　Los　Alamos　has　doubled　or　tripled　in　recent
weeks。　They　drink　heavily；　screw　badly；　pay　too　much；　and　sometimes　go　crazy。”　Ana　frowned。
“Several　of　the　sluts　mentioned　the　same　man。　He　ran　up　and　down　the　halls；　drunk；　naked；
yelling；　‘We’ve　done　it！　I’ll　never　have　to　see　that　fat　asshole　Groves　again！”
“Was　the　man　a　soldier？”
“I　asked。　The　whores　described　him　as　bearded。　He　didn’t　wear　dog　tags　or　military　signet　rings。
His　clothes　were　civilian；　including　the　underwear。”
Kestrel　looked　beyond　Ana；　thinking　about　the　crumbs　of　information　he　had　gathered　from
Refugio；　Rubia；　and　now　Ana。　Rubia’s　red…headed　soldier　had　mentioned　a　test　“soon；”　and　that
whatever　it　was　had　originally　come　from　Los　Alamos。　Ana　spoke　of　a　bearded　civilian　running
through　a　Mexican　whorehouse　yelling　that　something　was　done。　Was　it　too　much　to　assume　that
whatever　weapon　was　being　built　in　Los　Alamos　was　going　to　be　tested　and　then　shipped　to
California；　and　from　there　overseas　for　use　against　Japan？
“You’re　sure　that　he　said；　‘We’ve　done　it！’？”　asked　Kestrel。　“Was　he　speaking　Spanish　or　did　one
of　the　sluts　know　English？”
“Yolanda　–　the　young　one　with　the　broken　nose　–　speaks　some　English。　She　said　he　yelled　the
same　thing　again　and　again；　until　someone　threw　him　into　the　alley。　She’s　sure　she　remembered　it
right。　She’s　also　the　one　who　thought　to　check　his　clothes　and　jewelry。”
“Good。　Pay　her　extra。”
“I　did。”
“You’ve　done　very　well　for　me；　Ana。”
Ana　smiled；　pleased　that　she　had　pleased　him。　“Thank　you；”　she　said；　bowing　formally。　“It　is　my
duty　and　pleasure　to　serve　the　honorable　representative　of　the　Son　of　Heaven。”
The　words；　gracious　in　Japanese；　sounded　awkward　in　English。　Ana　flushed　slightly。　Kestrel
bowed　like　a　Japanese；　then　smiled　at　her　like　an　American　and　took　her　hand。　Ana’s　flesh
deepened；　but　she　did　not　pull　away。　Kestrel　was　the　first　samurai　she　had　ever　known；　he
fascinated　her。　He　knew　it；　and　used　it。　He　let　go　of　her　hand　and　indicated　the　lacquered　tray
holding　teapot　and　cups　with　no　handles。　“Would　you　pour　tea　for　us？”
Kestrel　watched　her　fill　the　cups　neatly　and　gracefully；　a　skill　learned　under　Takagura’s
demanding　eye。　“You　do　many　things　wel