The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

proper effect on the American government, but the fact that Narmonov knew of it
made his discovery as an American agent possible. Wasn't that interesting? he
asked himself in a moment of clear objectivity. His maneuvers were now a genuine
gamble, with a downside as enormous as the upside. Such things were to be
expected, weren't they? He was not gambling a month's wages. 'How do we know
this?' he asked, after a moment's reflection.
'That I cannot reveal.'
'I understand.' Damn! Well, he is confiding in me . . . though that might be a
clever ploy on Andrey Il'ych's part, mightn't it? 'But we are sure of it?'
'Quite sure.'
'How can I help?'
'I need your help, Oleg. Again, I ask for it.'
'This business with the Americans concerns you greatly, then?'
'Of course it does!'
'I can understand that it is something to be considered, but what real interest
do they have in our domestic politics?'
'You know the answer to that.'
'True.'
'I need your help,' Narmonov repeated.
'I must discuss this with my colleagues.'
'Quickly, if you please.'
'Yes.' Kadishev took his leave and walked out to his car. He drove himself,
which was unusual for a senior Soviet politician. Times had changed. Such
officials now had to be men of the people, and that meant that the reserved
center lanes of the broad Moscow streets were gone, along with most of the other
traditional perks. That was too bad, Kadishev thought, but without the other
changes that made it necessary, he'd still be a lonely voice in some distant
oblast instead of the leader of a major faction in the Congress of People's
Deputies. So, he was willing to do without the dacha in the woods east of
Moscow, and the luxury apartment, and the chauffeur-driven, hand-made limousine,
and all the other things that had once attached to the rulers of this vast and
unhappy country. He drove to his legislative office, where at least he had a
reserved parking place. Once behind the closed door of his office, he composed a
brief letter on his personal typewriter. This he folded into a pocket. There was
work to do this day. He walked down the street to the immense lobby of the
Congress, and checked his coat. The attendant was female. She took his coat and
handed him a numbered token. He thanked her politely. As she took the coat to
its numbered hook, the attendant removed the note from the inside pocket and
tucked it into the pocket of her own jacket. Four hours later, it arrived in the
American Embassy.
'Panic attack?' Fellows asked.
'You might call it that, gentlemen,' Ryan said.
'Okay, tell us about the problem.' Trent sipped at his tea.
'We've had more indications that our communications links may be penetrated.'
'Again?' Trent rolled his eyes.
'Come on, Al, we've heard that song before,' Fellows grumbled. 'Details, Jack,
details.'