WASHINGTON -- A frail 35-year-old widow whose husband was killed in the terrorist bombing of Pan
 Am Flight 103 shook with anger as she confronted Deputy Secretary of State Lawrence Eagleburger.

 "I don't want to hear George Bush say Syria is getting a "bum rap.' What about my husband? Didn't he get a
 bum rap?"

 Eagleburger's voice quavered as he answered Eleanor Bright.

 "I'm not going to back off because I haven't suffered as much as you. I'm not asking you to believe one damn
 thing. All I can say to you is we don't have the evidence to implicate Syria. That is not to say that Syria is
 innocent."

 The exchange was one of several electric moments during a short meeting Wednesday between about 100
 family members of victims of the Dec. 21, 1988, airplane bombing over Lockerbie, Scotland, and the No. 2
 man at the State Department.

 Some relatives wore buttons that read "The truth must be known" and others had taped photos of smiling
 mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons or daughters to their lapels. The majority came from the Washington
 area. Others traveled from as far as New England to question Eagleburger in Room 1912 of the State
 Department building.

 Except for a woman in the second row who burst into tears, they sat stone-faced for almost an hour as
 Assistant Attorney General Robert Mueller ran through the evidence he first unveiled last week in a federal
 indictment. U.S. officials charged that Libyan intelligence agents Lamen Khalifa Fhimah and Abdel Basset
 Ali Al-Megrahi planted the explosives that blew up the Pan Am jet at 30,000 feet.

 The family members asked Mueller a few polite questions on the details of the investigation but vented their
 frustration with U.S. foreign policy on Eagleburger.

 Most of them wanted to know two things: Has President Bush refrained from implicating Syria in the
 bombing in exchange for Syria's cooperation in the Middle East peace process? And what are the chances
 of actually bringing to trial the agents that Justice Department officials accuse of murdering 270 people?

 With a blend of sympathy and righteous indignation, Eagleburger defended the president and side-stepped
 the second question.

 When Bush said last week that Syria had gotten a "bum rap," what the president meant, Eagleburger
 explained, was not that Syria should be let off the hook for any terrorist activities but that there was simply
 no evidence linking Syria to this particular terrorist act.

 "Do you want us to lie to you about who did it, just to make people feel good . . .?" he said. "I don't believe
 any of us are so damn politically corrupt that we would lie to you."

 The confrontation came on the same day Israel television reported that U.S. investigators did find evidence
 pointing to Syrian involvement.

 The report said that the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine -- General Command, led by Ahmed
 Jibril, was linked to the attack and that an administration representative had passed the information on to "a
 representative of the Israeli government."

 The State Department issued a white paper this week entitled "Libya's Continuing Responsibility for
 Terrorism" that details alleged Libyan sponsorship of terrorism from 1986-1990. The two agents who blew
 up Pan Am 103 acted at the behest of Libyan leader Moammar Gadhafi, the report charges.

 Relatives of the bombing victims asked that the State Department prepare similar reports on Syria and Iran,
 two countries Washington has stopped singling out for criticism on terrorism in recent months. As relations
 improved on other fronts, Syria has sought to be taken off the State Department list of countries that sponsor
 terrorism.

 Eagleburger promised the relatives that Syria's request will be considered on its own merits, and not linked
 to progress on the Middle East peace talks, in which Syria has bowed to the wishes of Secretary of State
 James A. Baker III by starting negotiations with Israel.

 But after listening to Eagleburger, some relatives were still unconvinced.

 "He (Eagleburger) was defensive and patronizing," said Bright, the housewife who lost her husband in the
 bombing. "I want the president to acknowledge Syria and Iran's links to terrorism, not to insult the memories
 of our families by saying Syria got a bum rap."

 Relatives were equally blunt on the question of whether the two Libyan agents can ever be brought to trial.

 "What is the United States going to do to make sure that these indictments are not merely symbolic?" one
 woman shouted from the back of the room.

 "I can't answer that question other than to tell you that if the gentlemen ever show up outside of Libya
 there'll be a substantial effort to get them," Eagleburger said.

 A murmur of disapproval ran through the crowd and several people hooted.

 Shortly afterward, a visibly shaken Eagleburger departed.

 "I've got to be on the Hill in ten minutes," he apologized. "I'm sorry. I don't want it to end this way."

 Bush has said he is trying to coordinate some kind of international economic sanctions against Libya, but so
 far his efforts have not succeeded.

 Meanwhile, the relatives debated the merits of a step Bush has just hinted at -- military reprisals.

 The Rev. John Mosley, a small bearded man representing a group of British relatives, warned: "Not one of
 the British families would countenance such an action. If you think you are doing it for us, don't."

 Then a second man stood up, introduced himself to the group as an ex-Marine who lost his Army lieutenant
 son, and offered an opposing view. "If all else fails and we have to go in with a surgical military strike, I'm
 all for it," he said.

 Yet in the end, no matter what course Washington takes, noted one relative, the pain of having lost a family
 member aboard Pan Am Flight 103 will never be assuaged.

 Rosemary Mild, a middle-aged technical writer, sat through the meeting without speaking out once. On her
 breast, Mild had taped a photo of a smiling, curly-haired young woman. The 20-year-old college student
 had been her only daughter, Miriam.

 "It hurts as much today as it did the day it happened," Mild said quietly to her neighbor, trying to still her
 trembling hands. "It's like being terminally ill. That's what it's like. It's a pain that will never go away."