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Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第25部分
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“You aren’t being paid to understand。 Take the can to the truck。”
Masarek stepped back; trying to keep his elation from showing。 He had already said too much;
but it did not matter。 Refugio and his men would be dead before they could give away any
secrets。
At Refugio’s signal; Salvador stepped up; gripped the canister’s handle; and was nearly pulled
off of his feet。 The canister contained 200 pounds of lead shielding。 Masarek watched Salvador’s
veins thicken and pulse across his forehead until the claw…shaped scar was crimson。 The canister
rocked; lifted; then settled with a clang onto the cement floor。
“Get back;” Masarek said。
Salvador stepped back; watching contemptuously as the smaller man tested the canister’s weight。
Masarek could barely rock the can。 He stared at it; assessing the unexpected barrier it
represented。
Even if they could lift the can; its awkward; unexpected bulk would slow them dangerously。
Worse; once Refugio and his men were dead; Masarek and Vanessa would not be able to move
the canister by themselves。
“Open it;” said Masarek; stepping back。
Salvador worked over the heavy latches that secured the lid of the canister。 They opened stiffly。
With a grunt; Salvador lifted off the heavy lid。 A piece of silver…white metal with the blunt…nosed
shape of a bullet gleamed inside the thick…walled canister。 Though the piece of metal was barely
bigger than Salvador’s fist; it was surprisingly heavy。
Carefully; Salvador lifted out and set aside the hunk of metal。 It wobbled on the concrete floor;
then settled on its blunt nose。
The next piece inside the can was a plug of slate…colored metal。 Beneath the plug was a second
piece of pale metal; nearly three times the size of the first piece。 It was spherical and contained an
indentation the size and shape of the blunt bullet。
Salvador set the larger sphere next to the smaller one。 He did not notice the faint blue glow that
licked over the facing surfaces of the spheres。
Masarek looked at the three pieces of metal and decided quickly to leave the cylinder。 Vanessa
had spoken only of the two white pieces of metal。
“Tell Lopez to get the small piece;” said Masarek。 “Salvador; the large one。 No;” he said; as
Refugio bent to retrieve the dark cylinder。 “We don’t need that one。 It will just get in the way。”
The vague blue glow died as Lopez removed the smaller piece of pale metal。 Salvador picked up
his piece awkwardly。
“Madre;” he muttered in Spanish; “it’s as warm as a woman’s breast。”
“What did he say?” snapped Masarek。
Refugio shrugged。 “Nothing。 It feels to him like a woman’s breast。”
Masarek made a sound of disgust。 “Tell them to move quickly。 If someone finds us now; we’re
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as dead as that sentry。”
They hurried to the van; drove quickly between rows of weapons; then headed toward the gate。
Before the rain stopped; the laundry truck with Chinese ideographs and the number 7 on its
door left Hunters Point as easily as it had entered。
Alamogordo Test Range
Trinity Site Base Camp
7 Minutes Before Trinity
The desert was cold and black beneath ragged clouds。 It had rained intermittently through the
night; and lightning had walked along the stretch of land known as Jornada del Muerto。 Journey
of Death。
Nine miles from Ground Zero; General Groves waited in a small bunker。 A short distance away;
Dr。 Robert Oppenheimer and his senior staff paced in other bunkers; trying not to show what
the delays had cost their nerves。
The test should have been over; success or failure measured on a thousand instruments; but
nothing was ended; nothing settled。 Rare summer showers had delayed the 0200 test and then
the 0300 test; stretching men’s control; making them overreact to distant thunder。
General Groves waited; outwardly impassive。 Earlier he had marched Oppenheimer up and
down the base camp; trying to relax the brilliant; nervous scientist。 Relaxation was impossible。
Each flurry of cold rain; each delay; had heightened the tension until Groves decided to test the
bomb at 0530; come hell or high water。
He regretted that the weather would keep one of Colonel Tibbets’ men from overlying the site
in a B…29; but the test itself was more important than the flight。 Tibbets would just have to wait
until Japan to see what kind of air turbulence was generated by an atomic bomb。
Though it was futile in the darkness; Groves found himself peering toward the 100…foot…high
steel tower。 Suspended inside that tower was a plutonium bomb; impervious to the fears and
aspirations of men; illuminated by the random brilliance of lightning。
A man stood next to Groves; staring into the dark as the General was staring。 A match flared;
then seemed to divide in two as the end of the man’s cigaret ignited。 The man was dressed in
civilian clothes; although his posture was military。 Groves knew his name was Lattimer; but had
never learned his first name。
“I still don’t like it;” said Lattimer。 “We bust our asses keeping this a secret; and then you pass
information to a goddamn Jap spy。 I hope Finn got him in real close。 Be the last thing that
bastard sees this side of hell。”
Groves turned toward Lattimer; whose face was suddenly illuminated by the glow of a cigaret。
“You better hope Kestrel survives。 Then the war hawks on Tojo’s cabinet will have something
new to think about。 Or would you rather end the war one Jap at a time?”
“No。 I’ve been there; General。 Anything is better than that。” The man’s cigaret glowed as he
took a long breath。 His hands dropped to the heavily smoked glasses he had been issued。
“Christ! Why don’t they get this show on the road!”
Alamogordo Test Range
3 Minutes Before Trinity
Kestrel sat in his parked car; a darker shade of black against the desert night。 Each minute was
one closer to sunrise; and the near…certainty that he would be discovered; yet he waited with
unflinching patience。
Less than twenty minutes until dawn。 Kestrel wondered if the test had been screened from him
by ragged curtains of unseasonable rain。 If so; the weapon was not what he feared and dawn
would come only once today。
With narrowed eyes; Kestrel examined the surrounding land once more; seeing little but varying
densities of black。 Between ragged clouds; the stars in the east were changing subtly; more
Page 54
mecury than diamond; dulling by increments too small for the human eye to measure。 Slowly;
land solidified; blacker than the night。 A long western wind blew; bringing scents of rain and
earth and distance。
An intuition of movement brought Kestrel’s eyes to the southern horizon。 Nearby; dark gray
against the dense predawn sky; a nighthawk cruised; alert for the least sound or movement that
would reveal its prey。 For an instant longer the raptor flew in swift calligraphy against the sky;
then the bird vanished as silently as it had come。
Kestrel opened the door of the car carefully; knowing how far sound carried across desolate
land。 He got out and leaned lightly against the car’s cold metal fender。
Reflexively; he stretched the long muscles of his legs and then the shorter muscles at the back of
his neck where tension had clamped down; impeding the flow of blood。 He took a slow breath;
filling his lungs with the sharp; clean air of the New Mexican desert。 Then he stepped away from
the car; moving with a speed and silence that recalled the nighthawk; relaxing as his body lifted
and turned in stylized exercises that had been old before America was discovered or named。
Tension drained out of Kestrel’s body; leaving him both alert and calm。 Slowly he searched the
land again; looking toward the unborn dawn where stars paled; looking toward a horizon that
was still concealed by dark and distance。
A great white blister of light burst into searing incandescence along the eastern horizon。
Kestrel’s eyelids snapped shut even as his head turned aside; but darkness did not come to him。
The explosion had burned indelibly into his retinas; creating an afterimage of shimmering
purple。 Pain scalded his eyes and he was afraid that he was blind; condemned to a lifetime of
seeing unearthly brightness; punishment for daring to look into the searing white center of light。
Lo
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