The Matarese Circle - By Robert Ludlum Page 0,216

it, but if you've got a minute." "Sure. Won't even take a minute. Let me have them." Bray removed the two sets of X-rays from their envelopes; one stolen from the Massachusetts General Hospital, the other obtained in Washington. He had placed white tape over the names. He gave them to the dentist who carried them to a lamp and held them in sequence against the glare of the light bulb above the shade. "There you are," he said, holding the matching X-rays separately in each hand.

Scofield put each set in a different envelope. "Thanks again, doctor." "Anytime." The dentist walked rapidly back into his office. He was a man in a hurry.

Bray sat in the front seat of the car, his breathing erratic, perspiration on his forehead. He opened the envelopes and took out the X-ray sheets.

He pulled off the small strips of tape that covered the names.

He had been right. The awesome fragment was irrevocably in place, the proof in his hand.

The man who sat in the Senate, the man who unquestionably would be the next President of the United States, was not Joshua Appleton, IFV.

He was Julian Guiderone, son of the Shepherd Boy.

Scofield drove southeast to Salem. Delay was irrelevant now, previous schedules to be thrown away. He had everything to gain by moving as fast as he could, as long as every move was the right move, every decision the per- ceptive decision. He had his cannons and his nuclear bomb -his bill-of-particulars and the X-rays. It was a question now of mounting his weapons properly, using them, not only to blow the Matarese out of existence but firstabove all, first-to find Antonia and force them to release her. And Taleniekov, if he was still alive.

Which meant he had to create a deception of his own. All deceptions were based on illusion, and the illusion he had to convey was that Beowulf Agate could be had, his cannons and his bomb defused, his assault stopped, the man himself destroyed. To do this he had to take the initial position of strength... the weakness to follow.

The hostage strategy would not wash any longer; he would not be able to get near Appleton. The Shepherd Boy would not permit it, the prize of the White House too great to place in jeopardy. Without the man there was no prize.

So his position of strength lay in the X-rays. It was imperative he establish the fact that only a single set of X-rays existed, that duplicates were out of the question. Spectro analysis would reveal any such duplicating process and Beowulf Agate was not a fool; he would expect an analysis to be made. He wanted the girl, he wanted the Russian; the X-rays could be had for them.

There would be a subtle omission in the mechanics of the exchange, a seeming weakness the enemy would pounce on; but it would be calculated, no weakness at all. The Matarese would be forced to go through with the ex- change. A Corsican girl and a Soviet intelligence officer for X-rays that showed incontrovertibly that the man sitting in the Senate, on his way to the presidency, wn~ not Joshua Appleton, IV-legend of Korea, politician e~ taordinary-but instead, a man supposedly buried in 1954 in the Swiss village of Col du Pillon.

He drove down toward Salem harbor, drawn as he was always drawn, toward the water, not precisely sure what be was looking for until he saw it: a shield-shaped sign on the lawn of a small hotel. Efficiency Suites. It made sense. Rooms with a refrigerator and cooking facilities. There'd be no stranger eating in restaurants; it was not the tourist season in Salem.

He parked the car in a lot covered with white gravel and bordered by a white picket fence, the gray water of the harbor across the way. He carried his attach6 case and travel bag inside, registered under an innocuous name, and asked for a suite.

"Will payment be made by credit card, sir?" asked the young woman behind the counter.

"I beg your pardon?" "You didn't check off the method of payment. If it's a credit card, our policy is to run the card through the machine." "I see. No, actually, I'm one of those strange people who use real money.

One man's fight against plastic. Why don't I pay you for a week in advance, I doubt I'll stay any longer." He gave her the money. "I assume there's a grocery store nearby." "Yes, sir. Just up the street."

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