rl.thebourneidentity-第53部分

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　'Cain？'
　'Yes。　The　Vietnamese　saw　us　first　and　escaped。　Cain　shot　the　white　man　in　the　head。　He　just　walked　up　to　him　and　blew　his　head　off。〃
　'He　got　you　back？　Through　the　lines？'
　'Four　of　us；　yes；　and　the　man　named　Webb。　Five　men　were　killed。　It　was　during　that　terrible　journey　back　that　I　thought　I　understood　why　the　rumours　might　be　true　…　that　he　was　the　highest　paid　recruit　in　Medusa。'
　'In　what　sense？'
　'He　was　the　coldest　man　I　ever　saw；　the　most　dangerous；　and　utterly　predictable。　I　thought　at　the　time　it　was　a　strange　war　for　him；　he　was　a　Savonarola；　but　without　religious　principle；　only　his　own　odd　morality　which　was　centred　on　himself。　All　men　were　his　enemies　…　the　leaders　in　particular　and　he　cared　not　one　whit　for　either　side。'　The　middle…aged　man　paused　again；　his　eyes　on　the　drawing　board；　his　mind　obviously　thousands　of　miles　away　and　back　in　time。　'Remember；　Medusa　was　filled　with　diverse　and　desperate　men。　Many　were　paranoid　in　their　hatred　of　munists　…　kill　a　munist　and　Christ　smiled；　odd　examples　of　Christian　teaching。　Others　…　such　as　myself　…　had　fortunes　stolen　from　us　by　the　Viet　Minh；　the　only　path　to　restitution　was　if　the　Americans　won　the　war。　France　had　abandoned　us　at　Dien　Bien　Phu。　But　there　were　dozens　who　saw　that　fortunes　could　be　made　from　Medusa。　Pouches　often　contained　fifty　to　seventy…five　thousand　American　dollars。　A　courier　siphoning　off　half　during　ten；　fifteen　runs　could　retire　in　Singapore　or　Kuala　Lumpur；　or　set　up　his　own　narcotics　network　in　the　Triangle。　Apart　from　the　exorbitant　pay　…　and　frequently　the　pardoning　of　past　crimes　…　the　opportunities　were　unlimited。　It　was　in　this　group　that　I　placed　that　very　strange　man。　He　was　a　modern…day　pirate　in　the　purest　sense。
　Bergeron　unlocked　his　hands。　'Wait　a　minute。　You　used　the　phrase；　〃a　mission　he　manded〃。　There　were　military　men　in　Medusa；　are　you　sure　he　wasn't　art　American　officer？〃
　'American；　to　be　sure；　but　certainly　not　an　army　man。'
　'Why？'
　'He　hated　everything　military。　His　scorn　for　mand　Saigon　was　in　every　decision　he　made；　he　considered　the　army　fools　and　inpetents。　At　one　point　orders　were　radioed　to　us　in　Tam　Quan。　He　broke　off　the　transmission　and　told　a　regimental　general　to　have　sex　with　himself　…　he　would　not　obey。　An　army　officer　would　hardly　do　that。'
　〃Unless　he　was　about　to　abandon　his　profession；'　said　the　designer。　'As　Paris　abandoned　you　and　you　did　the　best　you　could；　stealing　from　Medusa；　setting　up　your　own　hardly　patriotic　activities　…　wherever　you　could。'
　'My　country　betrayed　me　before　I　betrayed　her；　Rene〃。
　'Back　to　Cain。　You　say　Bourne　was　not　the　name　he　used。　What　was　it？'
　'I　don't　recall。　As　I　said；　for　many；　surnames　were　not　relevant。　He　was　simply　〃Delta〃　to　me。'
　'Mekong？'
　'No；　the　alphabet；　I　think。'
　'〃Alpha；　Bravo；　Charlie。。。　Delta〃；'　said　Bergeron　pensively　in　English。　'But　in　many　operations　the　code　word　〃Charlie〃　was　replaced　by。。。　〃Cain〃；　because　〃Charlie〃　had　bee　synonymous　with　the　Cong。　〃Charlie〃　became　〃Cain〃！〃
　'Quite　true。　So　Bourne　dropped　back　a　letter　and　assumed　Cain。　He　could　have　chosen　〃Echo〃　or　〃Foxtrot〃　or　〃Zulu〃。　Twenty…odd　others。　What's　the　difference？　What's　your　point？〃
　'He　chose　Cain　deliberately！　It　was　symbolic！　He　wanted　it　clear　from　the　beginning。〃
　'Wanted　what　clear？'
　That　Cain　would　replace　Carlos。　Think。　〃Carlos〃　is　Spanish　for　Charles　…　Charlie。　The　code　word　〃Cain〃　was　substituted　for　〃Charlie〃　…　Carlos。　It　was　his　intention　from　the　start。　Cain　would　replace　Carlos；　And　he　wanted　Carlos　to　know　it。'
　'Does　Carlos？'
　'Of　course！　Word　goes　out　in　Amsterdam　and　Berlin；　Geneva　and　Lisbon；　London　and　right　here　in　Paris。　Cain　is
　available；　contracts　can　be　made；　his　price　lower　than　Carlos's　fee。　He　erodes！　He　constantly　erodes　Carlos's　stature。'
　'Two　matadors　in　the　same　ring。　There　can　only　be　one。'
　'It　will　be　Carlos。　We've　trapped　the　puffed…up　sparrow。　He's　somewhere　within　two　hours　of　Saint…Honoree。'
　'But　where？'
　'No　matter。　We'll　find　him。　After　all；　he　found　us。　He'll　e　back；　his　ego　will　demand　it。　And　then　the　eagle　will　sweep　down　and　catch　the　sparrow。　Carlos　will　kill　him。'
　The　old　man　adjusted　his　single　crutch　under　his　left　arm；　parted　the　black　curtain；　and　stepped　into　the　confessional。　He　was　not　well；　the　pallor　of　death　was　on　his　face；　and　he　was　glad　the　figure　in　the　priest's　habit　beyond　the　transparent　curtain　could　not　see　him　clearly。　The　assassin　might　not　give　him　further　work　if　he　looked　too　worn　to　carry　it　out；　he　needed　work　now。　There　were　only　weeks　remaining　and　he　had　responsibilities。　He　spoke。
　'Angelus　Domini。〃
　'Angelus　Domini；　child　of　God；'　came　the　whisper。　'Are　your　days　fortable？'
　'They　draw　to　an　end；　but　they　are　made　fortable。〃
　'Yes。。。　I　think　this　will　be　your　last　job　for　me。　It　is　of　such　importance；　however；　that　your　fee　will　be　five　times　the　usual。　I　hope　it　will　be　of　help　to　you。'
　'Thank　you；　Carlos。　You　know；　then。'
　'I　know。　This　is　what　you　must　do　for　it；　and　the　information　must　leave　this　world　with　you；　There　can　be　no　room　for　error。〃
　'I　have　always　been　accurate。　I　will　go　to　my　death　being　accurate　now。'
　'Die　in　peace；　old　friend。　It's　easier。。。　You　will　go　to　the　Vietnamese　Embassy　and　ask　for　an　attaché　named　Phan　Loc。　When　you　are　alone；　say　the　following　words　to　him：　〃Late　March；　1968　Medusa；　the　Tam　Quan　sector。　Cain　was　there。　Another　also。〃　Have　you　got　that？〃
　'〃Late　March；　1968　Medusa；　the　Tam　Quan　sector。　Cain　was　there。　Another　also。〃'
　'He'll　tell　you　when　to　return。　It　will　be　in　a　matter　of　hours。〃
　'I　think　it's　time　we　talked　about　une　fiche　plus　confidentielle　out　of　Zurich。〃
　'My　God。。。！'
　'I'm　not　the　man　you're　looking　for。〃
　Bourne　gripped　the　woman's　hand；　holding　her　in　place；　preventing　her　from　running　into　the　aisles　of　the　crowded；　elegant　restaurant　in　Argenteuil；　twenty　miles　outside　Paris。　The　pavane　was　over；　the　gavotte　finished。　They　were　alone；　the　velvet　booth　a　cage。
　'Who　are　you？〃　The　Lavier　woman　grimaced；　trying　to　pull　her　hand　away；　the　veins　in　the　cosmeticized　neck　pronounced。
　'A　rich　American　who　lives　in　the　Bahamas。　Don't　you　believe　that？〃
　'I　should　have　known；〃　she　said；　'no　charges；　no　cheque。。。　only　cash。　You　didn't　even　look　at　the　bill。'
　'Or　the　prices　before　that。　It's　what　brought　you　over　to　me。〃
　'I　was　a　fool。　The　rich　always　look　at　prices；　if　only　for　the　pleasure　of　dismissing　them。〃　Lavier　spoke　while　glancing　round；　looking　for　a　space　in　the　aisles；　a　waiter　she　might　summon。　Escape。
　'Don't；'　said　Jason；　watching　her　eyes。　'It'd　be　foolish。　We'd　both　be　better　off　if　we　talked。'
　The　woman　stared　at　him；　the　bridge　of　hostile　silence　accentuated　by　the　hum　of　the　large；　dimly…lit；　candelabra'd　room　and　the　intermittent　eruptions　of　quiet　laughter　from　the　nearby　tables。　'I　ask　you　again；'　she　said。　'Who　are　you？'
　'My　name　isn't　important。　Settle　for　the　one　I　gave　you。'
　'Briggs？　It's　false。'
　'So's　Larousse　and　that's　on　the　lease　of　a　hired　car　that　picked　up　three　killers　at　the　Valois　bank。　They　missed　there。　They　also　missed　this　afternoon　at　the　Pont　Neuf。　He　got　away。'
　'Oh；　Corf！'　she　cried；　trying　to　break　away。
　'I　said　don't'。'　Bourne　held　her　firmly；　pulling　her　back。
　'If　I　scream。　Monsieur？'　The　powdered　mask　was　cracked　with　lines　of　venom　now；　the　bright　red　lipstick　defining　the　snarl　of　an　ageing；　cornered　rodent。
　'I'll　scream　louder；'　replied　Jason。　'We'd　both　be　thrown　out；　and　once　outside　I　don't　think　you'll　be　unmanageable。　Why　not　talk？　We　might　learn　something　from　each　other。　After　all；　we're　employees；　not　employers。'
　'I　have　nothing　to　say　to　you。'
　'Then　I'll　start。　Maybe　you'll　change　your　mind。'　He　lessened　his　grip　cautiously。　The　tension　remained　on　her　white；　powdered　face；　but　it；　too；　was　lessened　as　the　pressure　of　his　fingers　was　reduced。　She　was　ready　to　listen。　'You　paid　a　price　in　Zurich。　We　paid；　too。　Obviously　more　than　you　did。　We're　after　the　same　man；　we　know　why　we　want　him。'　He　released　her。　'Why　do　you？'
　She　did　not　speak　for　nearly　half　a　minute；　instead；　studying　him　in　silence；　her　eyes　angry　yet　frightened。　Bourne　knew　he　had　phrased　the　question　accurately；　for　Jacqueline　Lavier　not　to　talk　to　him　would　be　a　dangerous　mistake。　It　could　cost　her　her　life　if　subsequent　questions　were　raised。
　'Who　is　〃we〃？'　she　asked。
　'A　pany　that　wants　its　money。　A　great　deal　of　money。　He　has　it。'
　'He　did　not　earn　it；　then？'
　Jason　knew　he　had　to　be　careful；　he　was　expected　to　know　far　more　than　he　did。　'Let's　say　there's　a　dispute；'
　'How　could　there　be？　Either　he　did　or　he　did　not；　there's　hardly　a　middle　ground。'
　'It's　my　turn；'　said　Bourne。　'You　answered　a　question　with　a　question　and　I　didn't　avoid　you。　Now；　let's　go　back。　Why　do　you　want　him？　Why　is　the　private　telephone　of　one　of　the　better　shops　in　Saint…Honoree　put　on　a　fiche　in　Zurich？'　'It　was　an　acmodation；　Monsieur。'
　'For　whom？'
　'Are　you　mad？'
　'All　right；　I'll　pass　on　that　for　now。　We　think　we　know　anyway。'
　'Impossible！
　'Maybe；　maybe　not。　So　it　was　an　acmodation；。；　To　kill　a　man？'
　'I　have　nothing　to　say。'
　'Yet　a　minute　ago　when　I　mentioned　the　car；　you