rl.thebourneidentity-第83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！


Now；　I　gather　we've　got　an　agreement；　but　I　don't　remember　what　it　is；　except　for　crazy　phrases　like　〃Get　Carlos！〃　and　〃Trap　Carlos！〃　and　something　about　Delta　being　Cain　and　Cain　is　supposed　to　replace　Charlie　and　Charlie　is　really　Carlos。　Things　like　that；　which　may　lead　you　to　think　I　do　remember。　You　might　even　say　to　yourselves　〃we've　got　one　prime　bastard　here。　Let's　put　him　away　for　a　couple　of　decades　in　a　very　tight　stockade。　He　not　only　took　us；　but　worse；　he　could　prove　to　be　one　hell　of　an　embarrassment。〃'　Bourne　turned　from　the　mirror　and　looked　at　Marie。　'I'm　not　kidding。　What　do　I　say？'
　The　truth；'　she　answered。　They'll　accept　it。　They've　sent　you　a　message；　they're　trying　to　reach　you。　As　far　as　the　six　months　is　concerned；　wire　Washburn　in　Port　Noir。　He　kept　records　…extensive；　detailed　records。'
　'He　may　not　answer。　We　had　our　own　agreement。　For　putting　me　back　together　he　was　to　receive　a　third　of　Zurich；　untraceable　to　him。　I　sent　him　over　a　million　American　dollars。'
　'Do　you　think　that　would　stop　him　from　helping　you？'
　Jason　paused。　'He　may　not　be　able　to　help　himself。　He's　got　a　problem；　he's　a　drunk。　Not　a　drinker。　A　drunk。　The　worst　kind；　he　knows　it　and　likes　it。　How　long　can　he　live　with　a　million　dollars？　More　to　the　point；　how　long　do　you　think　those　waterfront　pirates　will　let　him　live　once　they　find　out？'
　'You　can　still　prove　you　were　there。　For　six　months　you　were　ill；　isolated。　You　weren't　in　contact　with　anyone。'
　'How　can　the　men　at　Treadstone　be　sure？　From　their　view　I'm　a　walking　encyclopaedia　of　official　secrets。　I　had　to　be　to　do　what　I've　done。　How　can　they　be　certain　I　haven't　talked　to　the　wrong　people？'
　Tell　them　to　send　a　team　to　Port　Noir。'
　'It'll　be　greeted　with　blank　stares　and　silence。　I　left　that　island　in　the　middle　of　the　night　with　half　the　waterfront　after　me　with　hooks。　If　anyone　down　there　made　any　money　out　of　Washburn；　he'll　see　the　connection　and　walk　the　other　way。'
　'Jason；　I　don't　know　what　you're　driving　at！　You've　got　your　answer；　the　answer　you've　been　looking　for　since　you　woke　up　that　morning　in　Port　Noir。　What　more　do　you　want？'
　'I　want　to　be　careful；　that's　all！'　said　Bourne　abrasively。　'I　want　to　〃look　before　I　leap〃　and　make　damn　sure　the　〃stable　door　is　shut〃　and　Jack　be　nimble；　Jack　be　quick；　Jack　jump　over　the　candle　stick　…　but　for　Christ's　sake　don't　fall　into　the　fire！〃　How's　that　for　remembering。'　He　was　shouting；　he　stopped。
　Marie　walked　across　the　room　and　stood　in　front　of　him。　'It's　very　good。　But　that's　not　it；　is　it？　Being　careful　I　mean；'
　Jason　shook　his　head。　'No；　it　isn't；'　he　said。　'With　each　step　I've　been　afraid；　afraid　of　the　things　I've　learned。　Now；　at　the　end；　I'm　more　frightened　than　ever。　If　I'm　not　Jason　Bourne；　who　am　I　really？　What　have　I　left　back　there？　Has　that　occurred　to　you？〃
　'In　all　its　ramifications；　my　darling。　In　a　way；　I'm　far　more　afraid　than　you。　But　I　don't　think　that　can　stop　us。　I　wish　to　God　it　could；　but　I　know　it　can't。'
　The　attaché　at　the　American　Embassy　on　the　Avenue　Gabriel　walked　into　the　office　of　the　First　Secretary　and　closed　the　door。　The　man　at　the　desk　looked　up。
　'You're　sure　it's　him？'
　'I'm　only　sure　he　used　the　key　words；'　said　the　attaché　crossing　to　the　desk；　a　red…bordered　index　card　in　his　hand。　'Here's　the　flag；'　he　continued；　handing　the　card　to　the　First　Secretary。　'I've　checked　off　the　words　he　used；　and　if　that　flag's　accurate；　I'd　say　he's　genuine。'
　The　man　behind　the　desk　studied　the　card。　'When　did　he　use　the　name　Treadstone？'
　'Only　after　I　convinced　him　that　he　wasn't　going　to　talk　with　anyone　in　U。　S。　Intelligence　unless　or　until　he　gave　me　a　damn　good　reason。　I　think　he　thought　it'd　blow　my　mind　when　he　said　he　was　Jason　Bourne。　When　I　simply　asked　him　what　I　could　do　for　him；　he　seemed　stuck；　almost　as　if　he　might　hang　up　on　me。'
　'Didn't　he　say　there　was　a　flag　out　for　him？'　'I　was　waiting　for　it　but　he　never　said　it　According　to　that　eight…word　sketch　…　〃Experienced　field　officer。　Possible　defection　or　enemy　detention〃　…　he　could　have　just　said　the　word　〃flag〃　and　he　would　have　been　in　sync。　He　didn't；〃　Then　maybe　he's　not　genuine。'
　The　rest　fits；　though。　He　did　say　D。　C。's　been　looking　for　him　for　more　than　six　months。　That　was　when　he　used　the　name　Treadstone。　He　was　from　Treadstone；　that's　supposed　to　be　the　explosive。　He　also　told　me　to　relay　the　code　words　〃Delta〃；　〃Cain〃；　and　〃Medusa〃。　The　first　two　are　on　the　flag；　I　checked　them　off。。。　I　don't　know　what　〃Medusa〃　means。'
　'I　don't　know　what　any　of　this　means；'　said　the　First　Secretary。　'Except　that　my　orders　are　to　high…tail　it　down　to　munications；　clear　all　scrambler　traffic　to　Langley；　and　get　a　sterile　patch　to　a　spook　named　Conklin。　Him　I've　heard　of：　a　mean　son　of　a　bitch　who　got　his　foot　blown　off　ten　or　twelve　years　ago　in　'Nam。　He　pushes　very　strange　buttons　over　at　the　pany。　Also　he　survived　the　purges；　which　leads　me　to　think　he's　one　man　they　don't　want　roaming　the　streets　looking　for　a　job。　Or　a　publisher。'
　'Who　do　you　think　this　Bourne　is？'　asked　the　attaché。　'I've　never　seen　such　a　concentrated　but　formless　hunt　for　a　person　in　my　whole　eight　years　away　from　the　States。'
　'Someone　they　want　very　badly。'　The　First　Secretary　got　up　from　the　desk。　'Thanks　for　this。　I'll　tell　D。　C。　how　well　you　handled　it。　What's　the　schedule？　I　don't　suppose　he　gave　you　a　telephone　number。'
　'No　way。　He　wanted　to　call　back　in　fifteen　minutes；　but　I　played　the　harried　bureaucrat。　I　told　him　to　call　me　in　an　hour　or　so。　That'd　make　it　past　five　o'clock；　so　we　could　gain　another　or　two　by　my　being　out　to　dinner。'
　'I　don't　know。　We　can't　risk　losing　him。　I'll　let　Conklin　set　up　the　game　plan。　He's　the　control　on　this。　No　one　makes　a　move　on　Bourne　unless　it's　authorized　by　him。'
　Alexander　Conklin　sat　behind　the　desk　in　his　white…walled　office　in　Langley；　Virginia；　and　listened　to　the　embassy　man　in　Paris。　He　was　convinced；　it　was　Delta。　The　reference　to　Medusa　was　the　proof；　for　it　was　a　name　no　one　would　know　but　Delta。　The　bastard　I　He　was　playing　the　stranded　agent；　his　controls　at　the　Treadstone　telephone　not　responding　to　the　proper　code　words　…　whatever　they　were　…　because　the　dead　could　not　talk。　He　was　using　the　omission　to　get　himself　off　the　meathook！　The　sheer　nerve　of　the　bastard　was　awesome。　Bastard；　bastard！
　Kill　the　controls　and　use　the　kills　to　call　off　the　hunt。　Any　kind　of　hunt。　How　many　men　had　done　it　before；　thought　Alexander　Conklin。　He　had。　There　had　been　a　source…control　in　the　hills　of　Huong　Khe；　a　maniac　issuing　maniacal　orders；　certain　death　for　a　dozen　teams　of　Medusans　on　a　maniacal　hunt。　A　young　intelligence　officer　named　Conklin　bad　crept　back　into　Base　Camp　Kilo　with　a　North　Vietnamese　rifle；　Russian　calibre；　and　had　fired　two　bullets　into　the　head　of　a　maniac。　There　had　been　grieving　and　harsher　security　measures　put　in　force。。。　but　the　hunt　was　called　off。
　There　had　been　prints　on　fragments　of　glass　found　in　the　jungle　paths　of　Base　Camp　Kilo；　however。　Fragments　with　fingerprints　that　irrefutably　identified　the　sniper　as　an　occidental　recruit　from　Medusa　itself。　There　were　such　fragments　found　on　Seventy…first　Street；　but　the　killer　did　not　know　it　…Delta　did　not　know　it。
　'At　one　point；　we　seriously　questioned　whether　he　was　genuine；'　said　the　embassy's　First　Secretary；　rambling　on　as　if　to　fill　the　abrupt　silence　from　Washington。　'An　experienced　field　officer　would　have　told　the　attaché　to　check　for　a　flag；　but　the　subject　didn't。'
　'An　oversight；'　replied　Conklin；　pulling　his　mind　back　to　the　brutal　enigma　that　was　Delta…Cain。　'What　are　the　arrangements？'
　'Initially　Bourne　insisted　on　calling　back　in　fifteen　minutes；　but　I　instructed　lower…level　to　stall。　For　instance；　we　could　use　the　dinner　hour。。。'　The　embassy　man　was　making　sure　a　pany　executive　in　Washington　realized　the　perspicacity　of　his　contributions。　It　would　go　on　for　the　better　part　of　a　minute；　Conklin　had　heard　too　many　variations　before。
　Delta。　Why　had　he　turned？　The　madness　must　have　eaten　his　head　away；　leaving　only　the　instincts　for　survival。　He　had　been　around　too　long；　he　knew　that　sooner　or　later　they　would　find　him；　kill　him。　There　was　never　any　alternative；　he　understood　that　from　the　moment　he　turned　…　or　broke　…　or　whatever　it　was。　There　was　nowhere　to　hide　any　longer；　he　was　a　target　all　over　the　globe。　He　could　never　know　who　might　step　out　of　the　shadows　and　bring　his　life　to　an　end。　It　was　something　they　all　lived　with；　the　single　most　persuasive　argument　against　turning。　So　another　solution　had　to　be　found；　survival。　The　biblical　Cain　was　the　first　to　mit　fratricide。　Had　the　mythical　name　triggered　the　obscene　decision；　the　strategy　itself？　Was　it　as　simple　as　that？　God　knew　it　was　the　perfect　solution。　Kill　them　all；　kill　your　brother。
　Webb　gone；　the　Monk　gone；　the　Yachtsman　and　his　wife。。。　who　could　deny　the　instructions　Delta　received；　since　these　four　alone　relayed　instructions　to　him？　He　had　removed　the　millions　and　distributed　them　as　ordered。　Blind　recipients　he　had　assumed　were　intrinsic　to　the　Monk's　strategy。　Who　was　Delta　to　question　the　Monk？　The　creator　of　Medusa；　the　genius　who　had　recruited　and　created　him。　Cain。
　The　perfect　solution。　To　be　utterly　convincing；　all　that　was　required　was　the　death　of　a　brother；　the　proper　grief　to　follow。　The　official　judgment　would　be　rendered。　Carlos　had　infiltrated　and　broken　Treadstone。　The　assassin　had　won；　Treadstone　abandoned。　The　bastard！
　〃。。。　so　basically　I　felt　the　game　plan　should　e　from　you。〃　The　First　Secretary　in　Paris　had　finished。　He　was　an　ass　but　Conklin　needed　him；　one　tune　had　to　be　heard　while　another　was　being　played。
　'You　did　the　right　thing；'　said　a　respectful　executive　in　Langley。　'I'll　let　our　people　over　here　know　how　well　you　handled　it。　You　were　absolutely　right；　we　need　time；　but　Bourne　doesn't　realize　it。　We　can't　tell　him；　either；　which　makes　it　tough。。。　We're　on　sterile　so　may　I　speak　accordingly？'
　'Of　course。'
　'Bourne's　under　pressure。　He's　been。。。　detained。。。　for　a　long　period　of　time。　Am　I　clear？〃
　'The　Soviets？'
　'Right　up　to　the　Lubyanka。　His　run　was　made　by　means　of　a　double　entry。　Are　you　familiar　with　the　term？〃
　'Yes；　I　am。　Moscow　thin