rl.thebourneidentity-第98部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


cker　into　the　air。　No！　The　man　from　Treadstone　rolled　again！　Now　to　the　right；　his　features　in　shock；　his　wild　eyes　focused　on。。。　There　was　someone　else！
　Bourne　crouched；　diving　diagonally　backwards　as　four　gunshots　came　in　rapid　succession；　three　screeching　ricochets　spinning　off　beyond　sound。　Jason　rolled　over　and　over　and　over；　pulling　the　automatic　from　his　belt。　He　saw　the　man　in　the　rain；　a　silhouetted　figure　rising　above　a　gravestone。　He　fired　twice；　the　man　collapsed。
　Ten　feet　away　Conklin　was　thrashing　on　the　wet　grass；　both　hands　spreading　frantically　over　the　ground；　feeling　for　the　steel　of　a　gun。　Bourne　sprang　up　and　raced　over；　he　knelt　beside　the　Treadstone　man；　one　hand　grabbing　the　wet　hair；　the　other　holding　his　automatic；　its　barrel　pressed　into　Conklin's　skull。　From　the　far　columns　of　the　mausoleum　came　a　prolonged；　shattering　scream。　It　grew　steadily；　eerily　in　volume；　then　stopped。
　That's　your　hired　shotgun；'　said　Jason；　yanking　Conklin's　head　to　the　side。　Treadstone's　taken　on　some　very　strange　employees。　Who　was　the　other　man？　What　death　row　did　you　spring　him　from？〃
　'He　was　a　better　man　than　you　ever　were；〃　replied　Conklin；　his　voice　strained；　the　rain　glistening　on　his　face；　caught　in　the　beam　of　the　fallen　torch　six　feet　away　on　the　ground。　〃They　all　are。　They've　all　lost　as　much　as　you　lost；　but　they　never　turned。　We　can　count　on　them。'
　'No　matter　what　I　say；　you　won't　believe　me。　You　don't　want　to　believe　me！'
　'Because　I　know　what　you　are；　what　you　did。　You　just　confirmed　the　whole　damn　thing！　You　can　kill　me；　but　they'll　get　you。　You're　the　worst　kind。　You　think　you're　special！　You　always　did！　I　saw　you　after　Phnom…Penh　…　everybody　lost　out　there；　but　that　didn't　count　with　you！　It　was　only　you；　just　you！　Then　in　Medusa！　No　rules　for　Delta！　The　animal　just　wanted　to　kill。　And　that's　the　kind　that　turns！　Well；　I　lost；　too；　but　I　never　turned。　Go　on！　Kill　me！　Then　you　can　go　back　to　Carlos。　But　when　I　don't　e　back；　they'll　know！　They'll　e　after　you　and　they　won't　stop　until　they　get　you。　Go　on！　Shoot！'
　Conklin　was　shouting；　but　Bourne　could　hardly　hear　him。　Instead；　he　had　heard　two　words　and　the　jolts　of　pain　hammered　at　his　temples。　Phnom…Penh！　Phnom…Penh。　Death　in　the　skies；　from　the　skies。　Death　of　the　young　and　the　very　young。
　Screeching　birds　and　screaming　machines　and　the　deathlike　stench　of　the　jungle。。。　and　a　river。　He　was　blinded　again；　on　fire　again。
　Beneath　him　the　man　from　Treadstone　had　broken　away。　His　crippled　figure　was　crawling　in　panic；　lunging；　his　hands　surging　through　the　wet　grass。　Jason　blinked；　trying　to　force　his　mind　to　e　back　to　him。　Then　instantly　he　knew　he　had　to　point　the　automatic　and　fire。　Conklin　had　found　his　gun　and　was　raising　it！　But　Bourne　could　not　pull　the　trigger。
　He　dived　to　his　right；　rolling　on　the　ground；　scrambling　towards　the　marble　columns　of　the　mausoleum。　Conklin's　gunshots　were　wild；　the　crippled　man　unable　to　steady　his　leg　or　his　aim。　Then　the　firing　stopped　and　Jason　got　to　his　feet；　his　face　against　the　smooth　wet　stone。　He　looked　out；　his　automatic　raised；　he　had　to　kill　this　man　for　this　man　would　kill　him；　kill　Marie；　link　them　both　to　Carlos。
　Conklin　was　hobbling　pathetically　towards　the　gates；　turning　constantly；　the　gun　extended；　his　destination　a　car　outside　in　the　road。　Bourne　raised　his　automatic；　the　crippled　figure　in　his　gunsight。　A　split　half　second　and　it　would　be　over；　his　enemy　from　Treadstone　dead；　hope　found　with　that　death；　for　there　were　reasonable　men　in　Washington。
　He　could　not　do　it；　he　could　not　pull　the　trigger。　He　lowered　the　gun；　standing　helpless　by　the　marble　column　as　Conklin　climbed　into　his　car。
　The　car。　He　had　to　get　back　to　Paris。　There　was　a　way。　It　had　been　there　all　along。　She　had　been　there！
　He　rapped　on　the　door；　his　mind　racing；　facts　analysed；　absorbed　and　discarded　as　rapidly　as　they　came　to　him；　a　strategy　evolving。　Marie　recognized　the　knock；　she　opened　the　door。
　'Dear　God；　look　at　you！　What　happened？'
　'No　time；'　he　said；　rushing　towards　the　telephone　across　the　room。　'It　was　a　trap。　They're　convinced　I　turned；　sold　out　to　Carlos。'
　'What？'
　'They　say　I　flew　into　New　York　last　week；　last　Friday。　That　I　killed　five　people。。。　among　them　a　brother。'　Jason　closed　his　eyes　briefly。　'There　was　a　brother　…　is　a　brother。　I　don't　know；　I　can't　think　about　it　now。'
　'You　never　left　Paris　I　You　can　prove　it！'
　'How？　Eight；　ten　hours；　that's　all　I'd　need。　And　eight　or　ten　hours　unaccounted　for　is　all　they　need　now。　Who's　going　to　e　forward？'
　'I　will。　You've　been　with　me！〃
　'They　think　you're　part　of　it；'　said　Bourne；　picking　up　the　telephone　and　dialling。　'The　theft；　the　turning；　Port　Noir；　the　whole　damn　thing。　They've　locked　you　into　me。　Carlos　engineered　this　down　to　the　last　fragment　of　a　fingerprint。　Christ！　Did　he　put　it　together！'
　'What　are　you　doing？　Who　are　you　calling？'
　'Our　back…up；　remember？　The　only　one　we've　got。　Villiers。　Villiers's　wife。　She's　the　one。　We're　going　to　take　her；　break　her；　put　her　on　a　hundred　racks　if　we　have　to。　But　we　won't　have　to；　she　won't　fight　because　she　can't　win。。。　Goddamn　it；　why　doesn't　he　answer？'
　'The　private　phone's　in　his　office。　It's　three　in　the　morning。　He's　probably。。。'
　'He's　on！　General？　Is　that　you？'　Jason　had　to　ask；　the　voice　on　the　line　was　oddly　quiet；　but　not　the　quiet　of　interrupted　sleep。
　'Yes；　it　is　I；　my　young　friend。　I　apologize　for　the　delay。　I've　been　upstairs　with　my　wife。'
　'That's　who　I'm　calling　about。　We've　got　to　move。　Now。　Alert　French　Intelligence；　Interpol　and　the　American　Embassy；　but　tell　them　not　to　interfere　until　I've　seen　her；　talked　to　her。　We　have　to　talk。'
　'I　don't　think　so；　Mr。。　Bourne。。。　Yes；　I　know　your　name；　my　friend。　As　for　your　talking　to　my　wife；　however；　I'm　afraid　that's　not　possible。　You　see；　I've　killed　her。'
　Jason　stared　at　the　hotel　room　wall；　at　the　flock　paper　with　the　faded　designs　that　spiralled　into　one　another　in　meaningless　contortions　of　worn　fabric。　'Why？'　he　said　quietly　into　the　phone。　'I　thought　you　understood。'
　'I　tried；　my　friend；'　said　Villiers；　his　voice　beyond　anger　or　sorrow。　The　saints　know　I　tried；　but　I　could　not　help　myself。　I　kept　looking　at　her。。。　seeing　the　son　she　did　not　bear　behind　her；　killed　by　the　pig　animal　that　was　her　mentor。　My　whore　was　someone　else's　whore。。。　the　animal's　whore。　It　could　not　be　otherwise　and；　as　I　learned；　it　was　not。　I　think　she　saw　the　outrage　in　my　eyes；　heaven　knows　it　was　there。'　The　general　paused；　the　memory　painful　now。　'She　not　only　saw　the　outrage；　but　the　truth。　She　saw　that　I　knew。　What　she　was；　what　she　had　been　during　the　years　we'd　spent　together。　At　the　end；　I　gave　her　the　chance　I　told　you　I　would　give　her。'
　'To　kill　you？'
　'Yes。　It　wasn't　difficult。　Between　our　beds　is　a　night　stand　with　a　weapon　in　the　drawer。　She　lay　on　her　bed；　Goya's　Maja；　splendid　in　her　arrogance；　dismissing　me　with　her　private　thoughts　as　I　was　consumed　by　my　own。　I　opened　the　drawer　for　a　book　of　matches　and　walked　back　to　my　chair　and　my　pipe；　leaving　the　drawer　open；　the　handle　of　the　gun　very　much　in　evidence。
　'It　was　my　silence；　I　imagine；　and　the　fact　that　I　could　not　take　my　eyes　off　her　that　forced　her　to　acknowledge　me；　then　concentrate　on　me。　The　tension　between　us　had　grown　to　the　point　where　very　little　had　to　be　said　to　burst　the　floodgates；　and　…　God　help　me　…　I　said　it。　I　heard　myself　asking；　〃Why　did　you　do　it？〃　Then　the　accusation　became　plete。　I　called　her　my　whore；　the　whore　that　killed　my　son。
　'She　stared　at　me　for　several　moments；　her　eyes　breaking　away　once　to　glance　at　the　open　drawer　and　the　gun。。。　and　the　telephone。　I　stood　up；　the　embers　in　my　pipe　glowing；　loose。。。　chauffe　au　rouge。　She　spun　her　legs　off　the　bed。　put　both　hands　into　that　open　drawer；　and　took　out　the　gun。　I　did　not　stop　her；　instead　I　had　to　hear　the　words　from　her　own　lips；　hear　my　own　indictment　of　myself　as　well　as　hers。。。　What　I　heard　will　go　to　my　grave　with　me；　for　there　will　be　honour　left　my　person　and　the　person　of　my　son。　We　will　not　be　scorned　by　those　who've　given　less　than　we。　Never。'
　'General。。。'　Bourne　shook　his　head；　unable　to　think　clearly；　knowing　he　had　to　find　the　seconds　in　order　to　find　his　thoughts。　'General；　what　happened？　She　gave　you　my　name。　How？　You've　got　to　tell　me　that　Please。'
　'Willingly。　She　said　you　were　an　insignificant　gunman　who　wished　to　step　into　the　shoes　of　a　giant。　That　you　were　a　thief　from　Zurich；　a　man　your　own　people　disowned。'
　'Did　she　say　who　those　people　were？'
　'If　she　did　I　didn't　hear。　I　was　blind；　deaf；　my　rage　uncontrolled。　But　you　have　nothing　to　fear　from　me。　The　chapter　is　closed；　my　life　over　with　a　telephone　call。'
　'No！'　Jason　shouted。　'Don't　do　that　I　Not　now。'
　'I　must。'
　'Please！　Don't　settle　for　Carlos's　whore。　Get　Carlos！　Trap　Carlos！'
　'Reaping　scorn　on　my　name　from　lying　with　that　whore？　Manipulated　by　the　animal's　slut？'
　'Goddamn　you；　what　about　your　son！　Five　sticks　of　dynamite　on　rue　du　Bac！'
　'Leave　him　in　peace。　Leave　me　in　peace。　It's　over。〃
　'It's　not　over！　Listen　to　me！　Give　a　moment；　that's　all　I　ask。'　The　images　in　Jason's　mind　raced　furiously　across　his　eyes；　clashing；　supplanting　one　another