rl.thebourneidentity-第16部分

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　in　seconds；　and　in　seconds　other　bullets；　or　a　single　bullet；　would　find　its　mark。　There　were　enough　shells　left；　he　knew　that。　He　had　no　idea　how　or　why　he　knew；　but　he　knew。　By　sound　he　could　visualize　the　weapons；　extract　the　clips；　count　the　shells。
　He　smashed　his　forearm　into　the　crush　bar　of　the　exit　door。　It　flew　open　and　he　lunged　through　the　opening；　dragging　the　kicking　St　Jacques　woman　with　him。
　'Stop　it！'　she　screamed。　'I　won't　go　any　farther！　You're　insane！　Those　were　gunshots！'
　Jason　slammed　the　large　metal　door　shut　with　his　foot。　'Get　up！'
　No！'
　He　lashed　the　back　of　his　hand　across　her　face；　'Sorry；　but　you're　ing　with　me。　Get　up　I　Once　we're　outside；　you　have　my　word。　I'll　let　you　go。'　But　where　was　he　going　now？　They　were　in　another　tunnel；　but　there　was　no　carpet；　no　polished　doors　with　lighted　signs　above　them。　They　were。。。　in　some　kind　of　deserted　loading　area；　the　floor　was　concrete；　and　there　were　two；　pipe…framed　freight　dollies　next　to　him　against　the　wall。　He　had　been　right：　exhibits　used　on　the　stage　of　Suite　Seven　had　to　be　brought　in　by　lorry；　the　exit　door　high　enough　and　wide　enough　to　acmodate　large　displays。
　The　door　I　He　had　to　block　the　door）　Marie　St　Jacques　was　on　her　feet；　he　held　her　as　he　grabbed　the　first　dolly；　pulling　it　by　its　frame　in　front　of　the　exit　door；　slamming　it　with　his　shoulder　and　knee　until　it　was　lodged　against　the　metal。　He　looked　down：　beneath　the　thick　wooden　base　were　footlocks　on　the　wheels。　He　jammed　his　heel　down　on　the　front　lever　lock；　and　then　the　back　one。
　The　girl　spun；　trying　to　break　his　grip　as　he　stretched　his　leg　to　the　end　of　the　dolly；　he　slid　his　hand　down　her　arms；　gripped　her　wrist；　and　twisted　it　inward。　She　screamed；　tears　in　her　eyes；　her　lips　trembling。　He　pulled　her　alongside　him；　forcing　her　to　the　left；　breaking　into　a　run；　assuming　the　direction　was　towards　the　rear　of　the　Carillon　du　Lac；　hoping　he'd　find　the　exit。　For　there　and　only　there　he　might　need　the　woman；　a　brief　few　seconds　when　a　couple　emerged；　not　a　lone　man　running。
　There　was　a　series　of　loud　crashes；　the　killers　were　trying　to　force　the　stage　door　open　but　the　locked　freight　dolly　was　too　heavy　a　barrier。
　He　yanked　the　girl　along　the　cement　floor；　she　tried　to　pull　away；　kicking　again；　twisting　her　body　again　from　one　side　to　the　other；　she　was　over　the　edge　of　hysteria。　He　had　no　choice；　he　gripped　her　elbow；　his　thumb　on　the　inner　flesh；　and　pressed　as　hard　as　he　could。　She　gasped；　the　pain　sudden　and　excruciating；　she　sobbed；　expelling　breath；　allowing　him　to　propel　her　forward。
　They　reached　a　cement　staircase；　the　four　steps　edged　in　steel；　leading　to　a　pair　of　metal　doors　below。　It　was　the　loading　dock；　beyond　the　doors　was　the　Carillon　du　Lac's　rear　parking　area。　He　was　almost　there。　It　was　only　a　question　of　appearances　now。
　'Listen　to　me；'　he　said　to　the　rigid；　frightened　woman。　'Do　you　want　me　to　let　you　go？'
　'Oh　God；　yes！　Please！'
　Then　do　exactly　as　I　say。　We're　going　to　walk　down　these　steps　and　out　of　that　door　like　two　perfectly　normal　people　at　the　end　of　a　normal　day's　work。　You're　going　to　link　your　arm　in　mine　and　we're　going　to　walk　slowly；　talking　quietly；　to　the　cars　at　the　far　end　of　the　parking　area。　And　we're　both　going　to　laugh　…　not　loudly；　just　casually　…　as　if　we　were　remembering　funny　things　that　happened　during　the　day。　Have　you　got　that？'
　'Nothing　funny　at　all　has　happened　to　me　during　the　past　fifteen　minutes；'　she　answered　in　barely　audible　monotone。
　'Pretend　that　it　has。　I　may　be　trapped；　if　I　am　I　don't　care。　Do　you　understand？'
　'I　think　my　wrist　is　broken。'
　'It's　not。'
　'My　left　arm；　my　shoulder。　I　can't　move　them；　they're　throbbing。'
　'A　nerve　ending　was　depressed；　it'll　pass　in　a　matter　of　minutes。　You'll　be　fine。'
　'You're　an　animal。'
　'I　want　to　live；'　he　said。　'e　on。　Remember；　when　I　open　the　door；　look　at　me　and　smile；　tilt　your　head　back；　laugh　a　little。'
　'It　will　be　the　most　difficult　thing　I've　ever　done。'
　'It's　easier　than　dying。'
　She　put　her　injured　hand　under　his　arm　and　they　walked　down　the　short　flight　of　steps　to　the　platform　door。　He　opened　it　and　they　went　outside；　his　hand　in　his　topcoat　pocket　gripping　the　Frenchman's　pistol；　his　eyes　scanning　the　loading　dock。　There　was　a　single　bulb　encased　in　wire　mesh　above　the　door；　its　spill　defining　the　concrete　steps　to　the　left　that　led　to　the　pavement　below；　he　led　his　hostage　towards　them。
　She　performed　as　he　had　ordered；　the　effect　macabre。　As　they　walked　down　the　steps；　her　face　was　turned　to　his；　her　terrified　features　caught　in　the　light　Her　generous　lips　were　parted；　stretched　over　her　white　teeth　in　a　false；　tense　smile；　her　wide　eyes　were　two　dark　orbs；　reflecting　primordial　fear；　her　tear…stained　skin　taut　and　pale；　marred　by　the　reddish　splotches　where　he　had　hit　her。　He　was　looking　at　a　face　of　chiselled　stone；　a　mask　framed　by　dark　red　hair　that　cascaded　over　her　shoulders；　swept　back　by　the　night　breezes　…　moving；　the　only　living　thing　about　the　mask。
　Choked　laughter　came　from　her　throat；　the　veins　hi　her　long　neck　pronounced。　She　was　not　far　from　collapsing；　but　he　could　not　think　about　that　He　had　to　concentrate　on　the　space　around　them；　on　whatever　movement　…　however　slight　…　he　might　discern　hi　the　shadows　of　the　large　parking　area。　It　was　obvious　that　these　back；　unlit　regions　were　used　by　the　Carillon　du　Lac's　employees；　it　was　nearly　6：30；　the　night　shift　well　immersed　in　its　duties。　Everything　was　still；　a　smooth　black　field　broken　up　by　rows　of　silent　vehicles；　ranks　of　huge　bisects；　the　dull　glass　of　the　headlamps　a　hundred　eyes　staring　at　nothing。
　A　scratch。　Metal　had　scraped　against　metal。　It　came　from　the　right；　from　one　of　the　cars　in　a　nearby　row。　Which　row！　Which　car！　He　tilted　his　head　back　as　if　responding　to　a　joke　made　by　his　panion；　letting　his　eyes　roam　across　the　windows　of　the　cars　nearest　to　them。　Nothing。。。
　Something？　It　was　there　but　it　was　so　small；　barely　seen。。。　so　bewildering。　A　tiny　circle　of　green；　an　infinitesimal　glow　of　green　light。　It　moved。。。　as　they　moved。
　Green。　Small。。。　light！　Suddenly；　from　somewhere　in　a　forgotten　past　the　image　of　crosshairs　burst　across　his　eyes。　His　eyes　were　looking　at　two　thin　intersecting　lines　I　Crosshairs！　A　scope。。。　the　infra…red　scope　of　a　rifle。　How　did　the　killers　know？　Any　number　of　answers。　A　hand…held　radio　had　been　used　at　the　Gemeinschaft；　one　could　be　in　use　now。　He　wore　an　overcoat；　his　hostage　wore　a　thin　silk　dress　and　the　night　was　cool。　No　woman　would　go　out　like　that
　He　swung　to　his　left；　crouching；　lunging　into　Marie　St　Jacques；　his　shoulder　crashing　into　her　stomach；　sending　her　reeling　back　towards　the　steps。　The　muffled　cracks　came　in　staccato　repetition；　stone　and　asphalt　exploded　all　around　them。　He　dived　to　his　right；　rolling　over　and　over　again　the　instant　he　made　contact　with　the　pavement；　yanking　the　pistol　from　his　overcoat　pocket　Then　he　sprang　again；　now　straight　forward；　his　left　hand　steadying　his　right　wrist；　the　gun　centred；　aimed　at　the　window　with　the　rifle。　He　fired　three　shots。
　A　scream　came　from　the　dark　open　space　of　the　stationary　car；　it　was　drawn　out　into　a　cry；　then　a　gasp；　and　then　nothing。　Bourne　lay　motionless；　waiting；　listening；　watching；　prepared　to　fire　again。　Silence。　He　started　to　get　up。。。　but　he　could　not　something　had　happened。　He　could　barely　move。　Then　the　pain　spread　through　his　chest；　the　pounding　so　violent　he　bent　over；　supporting　himself　with　both　hands；　shaking　his　head；　trying　to　focus　his　eyes；　trying　to　reject　the　agony。　His　left　shoulder；　his　lower　chest　…　below　the　ribs。。。　his　left　thigh　…above　the　knee；　below　the　hip；　the　locations　of　his　previous　wounds；　where　dozens　of　stitches　had　been　removed　over　a　month　ago。　He　had　damaged　the　weakened　areas；　stretching　tendons　and　muscles　not　yet　fully　restored。　Oh；　Christ！　He　had　to　get　up；　he　had　to　reach　the　would…be　killer's　car；　pull　the　killer　from　it；　and　get　away。
　He　whipped　his　head　up；　grimacing　with　the　pain；　and　looked　over　at　Marie　St　Jacques。　She　was　getting　slowly　to　her　feet；　first　on　one　knee；　then　on　one　foot；　supporting　herself　on　the　outside　wall　of　the　hotel。　In　a　moment　she　would　be　standing；　then　running。　Away。
　He　could　not　let　her　go　I　She　would　race　screaming　into　the　Carillon　du　Lac；　men　would　e；　some　to　take　him。。。　some　to　kill　him。　He　had　to　stop　her！
　He　let　his　body　fall　forward　and　started　rolling　to　his　left；　spinning　like　a　wildly　out…of…control　manikin；　until　he　was　within　four　feet　of　the　wall；　four　feet　from　her。　He　raised　his　gun；　aiming　at　her　head。
　'Help　me　up；'　he　said；　hearing　the　strain　in　his　voice。
　'What？'
　〃You　heard　me！　Help　me　up'　'You　said　I　could　go！　You　gave　me　your　word　I'　'I　have　to　take　it　back。。。！　'Wo；　please：
　This　gun　is　aimed　directly　at　your　face；　Doctor。　You　e　here　and　help　me　get　up　or　I'll　blow　it　off。
　He　pulled　the　dead　man　from　the　car　and　ordered　her　to　get　behind　the　wheel　Then　he　opened　the　rear　door　and　crawled　into　the　back　seat　out　of　sight。　'Drive；'　he　said。　'Drive　where　I　tell　you。'
　Whenever　you're　in　a　stress　situation　yourself…and　there's　time；　of　course　…　do　exactly　as　you　would　do　when　you　project　yourself　into　one　yo