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9
Terry Franklin stood with his back against a pillar and tried to keep his face pointed at Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address。 The pillar was the second one on the right after you came through the main entrance。 The man on the phone had been very precise about that。 Second pillar on the right； on the side toward the Inaugural Address。
His eyes kept moving。 He was nervous； so nervous。 He had vomited up his breakfast an hour ago。。。 Not that person； a teenage girl。 Not that old fat woman with the cane and the two kids。 Maybe that man in the suit over there。。。 he could be FBI。 Was he looking this way？ Why was he turning？ That long…haired guy in jeans。。。
He had been here ten minutes and had already spotted five men who could be FBI。 Maybe they all were。 What if they had him staked out； like a goat？ Maybe he should just leave； walk away and forget all of this。 He had plenty of money。 Enough。 He had enough。 If they weren't on to him he could live carefully and fortably for years with no one the wiser。 But what if they knew？
〃It's one of the world's great speeches； isn't it？〃
He turned and stared。 A man； in his fifties with a tan face； stocky； wearing a short jacket； looking at the speech carved in the marble。 On his head a brimmed hat。 What's the response？ Holy。。。 think！ 〃Yeah。。。 uh； but I think the Gettysburg Address is better。〃
〃Stay twenty feet or so behind me。〃 The man turned and walked for the entrance； not fast； not slow； just walking。 After he had gone three paces Terry Franklin could wait no longer and followed。
The man was only ten feet ahead going down the wide； broad steps in front of the Memorial。 Franklin forced himself to slow down and lag behind。 The distance had increased to fifteen feet by the time they reached the sidewalk； but it narrowed again as Franklin strode along。 He stood right behind the man as he waited for a tour bus to roll by。
On the other side of the street the man said； 〃Walk beside me。〃 He led Terry along the north side of the Reflecting Pool until he found an empty bench。 〃Here；〃 he said。
〃Can't we go somewhere private？〃 Franklin asked； still on his feet and looking around in all directions。
〃This is private。 Sit！〃 The petty officer obeyed。 〃Look at me。 Stop looking around。 You're as nervous as a schoolboy smoking his first cigarette。〃
〃Something went wrong。 Really wrong。 Why in hell did you people have a drop in a black ghetto？ Some nigger doper could have torn my head off over there。〃
〃The drops were selected in Moscow； from a list。 That drop was originally chosen for another agent。〃 The man shrugged； resigned； 〃Bureaucrats。 These things happen。〃
〃So who got the message？ Answer me that！ Who saw me there？ The cops？ The FBI？ NIS？〃 The pitch of his voice started rising。 〃What am I supposed to do now？ Wait until…〃
〃No one saw you。 Some child or derelict probably removed the cigarette pack； or it was blown out of the hole by the wind。 If you had been observed they would be tailing you now。〃
Franklin couldn't help himself。 He turned his head quickly； scanning。
〃Sit still！ You only call attention to yourself by doing that； and believe me； there is nothing to see。 You are clean。 I wouldn't be here if you weren't。〃
Franklin stared at his feet。 He was so miserable。 〃I called in sick today。〃
〃And you rode the subways just as we instructed； and we checked you all the way。 No one followed。 No one pulled up to Metro stations to see if you got off。 No one made phone calls or ran for a car after you passed by。 You are clean。 You are not being watched。〃
〃So who are you？〃
〃You don't need…〃 He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly。 〃My name is Yuri。〃 The man extracted a pack of cigarettes from an inside jacket pocket and lit one。 Marlboro Gold 100s； Franklin noticed。 The fingers that held the cigarette were thick； the nails short。 No rings。
〃So what do you want me to do？〃
〃I'm here to evaluate you； to see if you are capable of going on； of continuing to serve。〃
Franklin thought about it。 Lucy hadn't spoken to him for four days now。 God only knows what that bitch will do。 Still； ten thousand bucks a disk was damn good money。 And if。。。
〃If you wish to continue； you must calm down。 You must get a grip on yourself。〃 Yuri's voice was low and steady。 〃Your greatest asset is that no one suspects you； and if you bee nervous； irrational； irritable； not your usual self； then you call attention to yourself and make yourself suspect。 Do you understand？〃
〃Yes。〃 He glanced at the man； who was looking at him carefully with inquisitive； knowing eyes。 Franklin averted his gaze。
〃We'll give you a rest；〃 Yuri said。 〃We'll wait a few months before we give you another assignment。 Will that help？〃
Terry Franklin was torn。 He wanted the money； quickly； but as he sat here on this bench knowing they could be watching he knew just how close he was to the end of his emotional rope。 For the first time in his life he realized how little real courage he had。 But for this kind of money maybe he could screw up enough stuff to keep going； for a while at least。 If he had some time。 He rubbed his eyes； trying to quell the tic in his left eyelid。 〃Yes；〃 he said slowly； 〃perhaps it would be better to let things cool off； settle down。〃
〃Okay。 So tomorrow you go back to work as usual。 Do all the usual things； all the things you normally do。 Keep to your routine。 Do nothing out of the ordinary。 Be pleasant to your colleagues。 Can you manage that？〃
He considered it； visions of the office and the chief flashing before his eyes； fear welling up。
〃Yes？〃
〃Yes。〃 He got it out。
〃Do you want to talk about anything else？〃
He shook his head no。
〃You are doing important work。 You have made a great contribution。 Your work is known in Moscow。〃
Terry Franklin said nothing。 Of course his work was known in Moscow。 Just as long as no one here found out about it； everything would be fine。 Ensuring that that didn't happen was the whole problem。
〃To show you how valuable your work is； we are raising your pay。 To eleven thousand a disk。〃
Franklin just nodded。 The enormity of the risks he was running to earn that money had finally sunk in the last four days。 He no longer thought of it as easy money。 He was earning every goddamn dime。
〃You may leave now。 Walk up Twenty…third Street to the Foggy Bottom Metro station and board there。 Goodbye。〃
Terry Franklin rose and walked away without a backward glance。
〃How long you guys gonna be in town？〃 the driver of the rental car shuttle bus asked George Wilson as they circled Terminal C at Dallas…Fort Worth to pick up more people。
〃Oh； a day or so。〃
〃Going home then？〃
〃No。 We've got a couple more cities to visit。〃 Inquisitive devil； Jake thought； sitting beside George and watching people board。
〃Did you e here from home？〃 Maybe the driver was working for a tip。 Or maybe he was just bored。 He got the bus in motion again as the people who had just boarded tried to store their bags in the bin and hold on too。
〃Nope。 Came from L。A。 Been on the road a while。〃
〃I knew it！ You're a traveling salesman； huh？〃
〃Yep。〃
〃I can always tell。〃
At TRX Industries the six men were passed from person to person until they reached the program manager。 His ample gut hung over a wide leather belt secured with a Budweiser buckle。 At least it appeared to be a Budweiser buckle； but it would be impossible to know for sure unless you checked while you were shining his cowboy boots。 His name was Harry Franks。
After the introductions and how…are…yous； he said； 〃Do you guys want to see it right now； or go to the conference room and watch the video presentation first？〃 He eyed Jake。
〃I'd just as soon see the plane now。〃
〃For sure。 Maybe see the presento during lunch。 We worked real hard on it。 You fellas follow me。〃
As they strolled along he bantered with Wilson and the manders； whom he called by name。 Just a bunch of good ol' boys。
The plane was in the hangar。 The design seemed to Jake Grafton to be more conventional than Consolidated's。 This plane had a tandem cockpit and twin vertical stabilizers canted in at the top； toward each other； but there the similarity to the other prototype stopped。 This bird was tactical navy gray； with engine intakes in the wing roots and no canards。 Instead of a plenum chamber and fairings to cool the exhaust； the tailpipes were arranged above a fairing that might shield the worst of the heat signature from a ground observer。 There were no afterburners。 〃The Soviets are doing a lot of work on air…to…air IR sensors for their latest generation MiGs；〃 Smoke Judy said。
〃Yeah； probably stole ours；〃 somebody grumbled。
Jake walked slowly around the plane； the chief engineer at his elbow。 On the left side of the fuselage； just behind the nose radome； was a place from which a twenty…millimeter…cannon barrel peeked out。 〃Vulcan？〃
〃Yep。 Six hundred fifty rounds capacity； five hard points for missiles and bombs faired in underneath。 This baby'll carry； shoot or drop anything in the U。S。 inventory or anything any NATO country's got。〃
〃Ranger？〃
〃bat radius is projected at six hundred nautical miles unrefueled。〃
〃How stealthy is this thing？〃
〃Well；〃 said Harry Franks with his thumbs in his belt； 〃it's got a head…on RCS of about a half of a square meter。 That reduces its detection range pared with an A…6 Intruder by about forty…five percent。 That's naked； as she sits。 Hang bombs and a belly tank and the RCS rises； though it's still down about sixty percent from an A…6 loaded for bear。 Our design concept was to be as stealthy as possible and still e up with a mission…capable attack plane with good range and flying characteristics。 This prototype was optimized for aircraft…carrier operations。 It seemed to us that if you guys couldn't get it aboard ship and keep it there for a reasonable cost； it didn't matter how stealthy it was。〃 He sighed and scratched his head and checked the shine on the toe of his boots； 〃That logic didn't impress the air force； of course。 Not stealthy enough for them by a long shot。〃
〃What's this thing gonna cost Uncle Sam？〃 Jake already knew this answer； but he wanted to hear Franks say it。
〃Well； there're a ton of variables。〃 Franks' hands went into his pockets and he looked Jake straight in the eyes。 〃Optimum production rates； as is； fifty…three mil。〃
〃When did you stop selling used cars and go to work for TRX？〃 Franks chuckled good…naturedly。
〃If it were something under fifty； I could probably bring my wife over and let her drive it。〃
The engineer's grin disappeared。 〃I hear you。 You'll get some votes in Congress under fifty that you won't get over that number。 But we already scraped and cut and chopped like hell to get down to fifty…three。〃
〃Uh…huh。 Just a suggestion…we're a long way from a decision…but were I you； I'd be sweating that number again and trying to shrink it。 Sweating it real hard。〃
Later Jake managed to draw Dalton Harris aside。 Harris had spent most of his career in electronic warfare。 By definition he was an expert on Soviet radars； their capabilities and their usage。 〃Tell me；〃 Jake asked； 〃what a forty…five percent reduction in the detection range of an A…6 means to the Soviets。 Over fifty percent reduction carrying weapons。〃
〃It means that all the Soviet fire…control radars are obsolete。〃 He shrugged。 〃They would have to redesign and replace everything they have。 Or…and this is a big or…they would have to double the number of existing radars。〃
〃At what cost？〃
〃Replacement would be astronomical。 Their whole system involves using proven technology that can be manufactured in quantity at low cost by low…skilled workers with inexpensive equipment and techniques。 They need a lot of everything since the Soviet military is so big。 Has to be big because the country is； distances are mind…boggling。 So they rarely declare anything obsolete until it's worn out pletely。 Yet in a mass obsolescence like this low…observable technology threatens； they have to e up with new cutting…edge designs or fixes for over a dozen types of front…line radars； manufacture huge quantities and get them all in service quickly。〃 Harris raised his bands and dropped them in a gesture of defeat。 〃I don't think they can do it。 It'll cost too muc