Patriot Games - vastav

think. Admiral Sir Roger DeVere. He served under Somerville. He wasn't there. His
housekeeper said he got called out of town suddenly due to a death in the family. So
I left a message that I'd been there and flagged another cab back downtown. I
decided to get out a few blocks early and walk the rest of the way."
"Why?" Taylor asked.
"Mainly I was stiff from all the sitting – in the Admiralty building, the flight, the
cab. I needed a stretch. I usually jog every day, and I get restless when I miss it."
"Where did you get out?" Owens asked.
"I don't know the name of the street. If you show me a map I can probably point it
out." Owens nodded for him to go on. "Anyway, I nearly got run over by a doubledecker
bus, and one of your uniformed cops told me not to jaywalk –" Owens
looked surprised at that and scribbled some notes. Perhaps they hadn't learned of
that encounter. "I picked up a magazine at a street stand and met Cathy about, oh,
three-forty or so. They were early, too."
"And how had she spent her day?" Ashley inquired. Ryan was certain that they
had this information already.
"Shopping, mainly. Cathy's been over here a few times, and likes to shop in
London. She was last here about three years ago for a surgical convention, but I
couldn't make the trip."
"Left you with the little one?" Ashley smiled thinly again. Ryan sensed that
Owens was annoyed with him.
"Grandparents. That was before her mom died. I was doing comps for my
doctorate at Georgetown, couldn't get out of it. As it was I got my degree in two and
a half years, and I sweated blood that last year between the university and seminars
at the Center for Strategic and International Studies. This was supposed to be a
vacation." Ryan grimaced. "The first real vacation since our honeymoon."
"What were you doing when the attack took place?" Owens got things back on
track. All three inquisitors seemed to lean forward in their seats.
"Looking the wrong way. We were talking about what we'd do for dinner when
the grenade went off."
"You knew it was a grenade?" Taylor asked.
Ryan nodded. "Yeah. They make a distinctive sound. I hate the damned things,
but that's one of the little toys the Marines trained me to use at Quantico. Same
thing with the machine-gunner. At Quantico we were exposed to East Bloc
weapons. I've handled the AK-47. The sound it makes is different from our stuff,
and that's a useful thing to know in combat. How come they didn't both have AKs?"
"As near as we can determine," Owens said, "the man you wounded disabled the
car with a rifle-launched antitank grenade. Forensic evidence points to this. His
rifle, therefore, was probably one of the new AK-74s, the small-caliber one, fitted to