Without remorse - Tom Clancy [289]
Tactics, Kelly thought, turning to port, finally rounding Point Lookout. There was a wide selection. He still had his safe house in Baltimore with a false name on everything. The police might be interested in talking to him, but they hadn't made contact with him yet. He'd try to keep it that way. The enemy didn't know who he was. That was his starting place. The fundamental issue was the three-way balance among what he knew, what he didn't know, and how he might use the first to affect the second. The third element, the how, was tactics. He could prepare for what he did not yet know. He could not yet act upon it, but he actually knew what he would do. Getting to that point simply required a strategic approach to the problem. It was frustrating, though. Four young women awaited his action. An as yet undetermined number of people awaited death.
They were driven by fear, Kelly knew. They'd been afraid of Pam, and afraid of Doris. Afraid enough to kill. He wondered if the death of Edward Morello had been a further manifestation. Certainly they had killed for their safety, and now they probably did feel safe. That was good; if fear was their driving force, then they had more of it now that they felt it a thing of their past.
The worrisome part was the time element. There was a clock on this. The police were sniffing at him. While he thought there was nothing they could possibly have to use against him, he still couldn't feel good about it. The other worry was the safety - he snorted - of those four young women. There was no such thing as a good long operation. Well, he'd have to be patient on one thing, and with luck, just the one.
He hadn't been to the zoo in years. Ritter thought he'd have to bring his kids here again now that they were old enough to appreciate things a little more. He took the time to look at the bear pit - there was just something interesting about bears. Kids thought of them as large, animated versions of the stuffed toys they clutched at night. Not Ritter. They were the image of the enemy, large and strong, far less clumsy and far more intelligent than they appeared. A good thing to remember, he told himself, heading over to the tiger cage. He rolled the Newsweek in his left hand, watching the large cats and waiting. He didn't bother checking his watch.
'Hello, Charles,' a voice said beside him.
'Hello, Sergey.'
'I do not know you,' the rezident observed.
'This conversation is unofficial,' Ritter explained.
'Aren't they all?' Sergey noted. He started walking. Any single place could be bugged, but not a whole zoo. For that matter, his contact could be wearing a wire, though that would not have been in accordance with the rules, such as they were. He and Ritter walked downthe gentle paved slope to the next animal exhibit, with the rezident's security guard in close attendance.
'I just returned from Vietnam,' the CIA officer said.
'Warmer there than here.'
'Not at sea. It's rather pleasant out there.'
'The purpose of your cruise?' the rezideat asked.
'A visit, an unplanned one.'
'I believe it failed,' the Russian said, not tauntingly, just letting 'Charles' know that he knew what was going on.
'Not completely. We brought someone home with us.'
'Who might that be?'
'His name is Nikolay.' Ritter handed over Grishanov's paybook. 'It would be an embarrassment to your government if it were to be revealed that a Soviet officer was interrogating American POWs.'
'Not a great embarrassment,' Sergey replied, flipping briefly through the paybook before pocketing it.
'Well, actually it would be. You see, the people he's been interrogating have been reported as being dead by your little friends.'
'I don't understand.' He was telling the truth, and Ritter had to explain for a few minutes. 'I did not know any of that,' Sergey said after hearing the