The Cardinal of the Kremlin - Tom Clancy [117]
"I knew a guy with a tattoo like that. Officer-he's with Team-Six now."
"Once upon a time, Captain. I'm not supposed to talk about that, sir."
"What's this all about?"
"Sir, your mission orders will-"
"Humor me." Mancuso smiled out the order. "They just took in the brow."
"It involves making a pickup."
My God. Mancuso nodded impassively. "Will you need any additional support?"
"No, sir. Solo shot. Just me and my gear."
"Okay. We can go over it in detail after we sail. You'll eat in the wardroom. Right down the ladder outside, then a few feet aft, on the starboard side. One other thing: is time a problem?"
"Shouldn't be, unless you mind waiting. Part of this is still up in the air-and that's all I can say for now, Captain. Sorry, but I have my orders, too."
"Fair enough. You take the top bunk. Get some sleep if you need it."
"Thank you, sir." Clark watched the Captain leave, but didn't smile until the door closed. He'd never been on a Los Angeles-class submarine before. Most intelligence missions were conducted by the smaller, more maneuverable Sturgeons. He always slept in the same place, always in the upper bunk in the engineer's stateroom, the only spare bed on the ship. There was the usual problem stowing his gear, but "Clark" had done it enough to know all the tricks. When he'd finished that, he climbed up into the bunk. He was tired from the flight and needed a few hours to relax. The bunk was always the same, hard against the curved hull of the submarine. It was like being in a coffin with the lid half-open.
"One must admire the Americans for their cleverness," Morozov said. It had been a busy several weeks at Dushanbe. Immediately after the test-more precisely, immediately after their visitor from Moscow had left-two of the six lasers had been defrosted and disassembled for service, and it was found that their optics had been badly scorched. So there was still a problem with the optical coating, after all. More likely quality-control, his section chief had observed, dismissing the problem to another team of engineers. What they had now was far more exciting. Here was the American mirror design that they'd heard about for years.
"The idea came from an astronomer. He wanted a way to make stellar photographs that didn't suffer from 'twinkling.' Nobody bothered to tell him that it was impossible, so he went ahead and did it. I knew the rough idea, but not the details. You are right, young man. This is very clever. Too clever for us," the man growled briefly as he flipped to the page on computer specifications. "We don't have anything that can duplicate this performance. Just building the actuators-I don't know if we can even do that."
"The Americans are building the telescope-"
"Yes, at Hawaii. I know. But the one at Hawaii is far behind this one, technically speaking. The Americans have made a breakthrough that has not yet found its way into the general scientific community. Note the date on the diagram. They may actually have this one operating now." He shook his head. "They're ahead of us."
"You have to leave."
"Yes. Thank you for protecting me this long." Eduard Vassilyevich Altunm's gratitude was genuine. He'd had a floor on which to sleep, and several warm meals to sustain him while he made his plans.
Or attempted to. He couldn't even appreciate the disadvantages under which he labored. In the West he could easily have obtained new clothing, a wig to disguise his hair, even a theatrical makeup kit that came with instructions on how to alter his features. In the West he could hide in the back seat of a car, and be driven two hundred miles in under four hours. In Moscow he had none of those options. The KGB would have searched his flat by now, and determined what clothing he wore. They'd know his face and hair color. The only thing they evidently did not know was his small circle of friends from military service in Afghanistan. He'd never talked to anyone about them.
They offered him a different sort of coat, but it didn't fit, and he had no wish to endanger these people further.