The Cardinal of the Kremlin - Tom Clancy [183]
"Almost fifty years ago?"
"They were comrades. This Romanov fellow had been part of Filitov's own tank crew through the first few months. Well, he was a hero. He died for the Motherland, saving the life of his officer," Vatutin observed. And Misha still talks to him
I have you now, Filitov.
"Shall we wake him up and-"
"Where's the doctor?" Vatutin asked.
It turned out that he was about to leave for home and was not overly pleased to be recalled. But he didn't have the rank to play power games with Colonel Vatutin.
"How should we handle it?" Vatutin asked after outlining his thoughts.
"He should be weary but wide awake. That is easily done."
"So we should wake him up now and-"
"No." The doctor shook his head. "Not in REM sleep-"
"What?"
"Rapid Eye Movement sleep-that's what it's called when the patient is dreaming. You can always tell if the subject is in a dream by the eye movement, whether he talks or not."
"But we can't see that from here," another officer objected.
"Yes, perhaps we should redesign the observation system," the doctor mused. "But that doesn't matter too much. During REM sleep the body is effectively paralyzed. You'll notice that he's not moving now, correct? The mind does that to prevent injury to the body. When he starts moving again, the dream is over."
"How long?" Vatutin asked. "We don't want him to get too rested."
"Depends on the subject, but I would not be overly concerned. Have the turnkey get a breakfast ready for him, and as soon as he starts moving, wake him up and feed him."
"Of course." Vatutin smiled.
"Then we just keep him awake oh, eight hours or so more. Yes, that should do it. Is it enough time for you?"
"Easily," Vatutin said with more confidence than he should have. He stood and checked his watch. The Colonel of "Two" called the Center and gave a few orders. His system, too, cried out for sleep. But for him there was a comfortable bed. He wanted to have all of his cleverness when the time came. The Colonel undressed fastidiously, calling for an orderly to polish his boots and press his uniform while he slept. He was tired enough that he didn't even feel the need for a drink. "I have you now," he murmured as he faded into sleep.
"G'night, Bea," Candi called from the door as her friend opened up her car. Taussig turned one last time and waved before getting in. Candi and the Geek couldn't have seen the way she stabbed the key into the ignition. She drove only half a block, turning a corner before pulling to the curb and staring at the night.
They're doing it already, she thought. All the way through dinner, the way he looked at her-the way she looked at him! Already those wimpy little hands are fumbling with the buttons on her blouse
She lit a cigarette and leaned back, picturing it while her stomach tightened into a rigid, acid-filled ball. Zit-face and Candi. She'd endured three hours of it. Candi's usual beautifully prepared dinner. For twenty minutes while the finishing touches had been under way, she'd been stuck in the living room with him, listening to his idiot jokes, having to smile back at him. It was clear enough that Alan didn't like her either, but because she was Candi's friend he'd felt obligated to be nice to her, nice to poor Bea, who was heading toward old-maidhood, or whatever they called it now-she'd seen it in his stupid eyes. To be patronized by him was bad enough, but to be pitied
And now he was touching her, kissing her, listening to her murmurs, whispering his stupid, disgusting endearments-and Candi liked it! How was that possible?
Candace was more than just pretty, Taussig knew. She was a free spirit. She had a discoverer's mind mated to a warm, sensitive soul. She had real feelings. She was so wonderfully feminine, with the kind of