"Ludlum, Robert - Covert One 2 - The Cassandra Compact" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ludlum Robert)

"May God bless you and look after you always."

He picked up the umbrella and took a step back, staring at the headstone as though imprinting its image in his mind for all time. Then he heard the soft footfall behind him and turned around fast.

The woman holding the black umbrella was in her mid-thirties, tall, with brilliant red hair pulled back in a ponytail. A spray of freckles dotted her nose and high cheekbones. Her eyes, green like reef waters, widened when she saw Smith.

"Jon? Jon Smith?"

"Megan...?"

Megan Olson walked up quickly, took Smith's arm and squeezed it.

"Is it really you? My God, it's been..."

"A long time."

Megan looked past him at Sophia's grave. "I'm so sorry, Jon. I didn't know that anyone would be here. I didn't mean to intrude."

"It's all right. I did what I came to do."

"I guess we're both here for the same reason," she said softly.

She drew him under the shelter of a massive oak and looked at him keenly. The lines and creases on his face were deeper than she remembered, and there was a host of new ones. She could only imagine the kind of year Jon Smith had endured.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Jon," she said. "I wish I could have told you that sooner." She hesitated. "I wish I had been here when you needed someone."

"I tried calling but you were away," he replied. "The job..."

Megan nodded ruefully. "I was away," she said vaguely.

Sophia Russell and Megan Olson had both grown up in Santa Barbara, had gone to school there, then on to UCLA. After college, their paths had diverged. Sophia had gone to complete her Ph.D. in cell and molecular biology and had joined USAMRIID. After receiving her master's in biochemistry, Megan had accepted a position at the National Institutes of Health. But after only a three-year tenure she had switched to the medical research division of the World Health Organization. Sophia had received postcards from all over the world and had pasted them in a scrapbook as a way to keep track of her globe-trotting friend. Now, without warning, Megan was back.

"NASA," Megan said, answering Smith's unspoken question. "I got tired of the Gypsy life, applied to the space-shuttle candidate school, and was accepted. Now I'm first alternate on the next space mission."

Smith couldn't hide his amazement. "Sophia always said she never knew what to expect from you. Congratulations."

Megan smiled wanly. "Thanks. I guess none of us knows what we can expect. Are you still with the army, at USAMRIID?"

"I'm at loose ends," Smith replied. It wasn't the whole truth but close enough. He changed the subject. "Are you going to be in Washington for a while? Might give us a chance to catch up."

Megan shook her head. "I'd love to. But I have to go back to ouston tonight. But I don't want to lose touch with you, Jon. Are you still living out in Thurmont?"

"No, I sold the place. Too many memories."

On the back of a card he jotted down his address in Bethesda, along with a phone number that he was actually listed under.

Handing her the card, he said, "Don't be a stranger."

"I won't," Megan replied. "Look after yourself, Jon."