rl.thebourneultimatum-第136章

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ect　he　doesn't　want　to　deal　with　the　French　authorities　for　fear　of　a　leak　to　Carlos's　people。　A　single　woman　with　a　mon　name　on　crowded　flights　is　probably　best。〃
　〃I'll　spend　more　time　sitting　in　airports　than　in　the　air。〃
　〃Probably；　so　cover　those　great　legs　of　yours　and　carry　a　Bible。〃
　〃That's　sweet；〃　said　Marie；　touching　his　face。　〃I　suddenly　hear　you；　David。〃
　〃What？〃　Again　Bourne　did　not　respond　to　the　warmth。
　〃Nothing。　。。。　Do　me　a　favor；　will　you？〃
　〃What　is　it？〃　asked　Jason；　in　a　distant　monotone。
　〃Bring　that　David　back　to　me。〃
　〃Let's　get　an　update　on　the　plane；〃　said　Bourne；　his　voice　flat　and　abrupt　as　he　touched　her　elbow　and　led　her　back　inside。　I'm　getting　older…old…and　I　cannot　much　longer　be　what　I　am　not。　The　Chameleon　is　slipping　away；　the　imagination　isn't　there　the　way　it　used　to　be。　But　I　cannot　stop！　Not　now！　Get　away　from　me；　David　Webb！
　No　sooner　had　they　reentered　the　small　terminal　than　the　telephone　on　the　counter　began　to　ring。　The　lone　clerk　picked　it　up。　〃Oui？〃　He　listened　for　no　more　than　five　seconds。　〃Merci；〃　he　said；　hanging　up　and　addressing　the　four　interested　parties　in　French。　〃That　was　the　tower。　The　plane　from　Poitiers　will　be　on　the　ground　in　approximately　four　minutes。　The　pilot　requests　that　you　be　ready；　madame；　as　he　would　like　to　fly　ahead　of　the　weather　front　moving　east。〃
　〃So　would　I；〃　agreed　Marie；　rushing　to　Alex　Conklin　and　Mo　Panov。　The　farewells　were　brief；　the　embraces　strong；　the　words　heartfelt。　Bourne　led　his　wife　back　outside。　〃I　just　remembered…where　are　Krupkin's　guards？〃　she　asked　as　Jason　unlatched　the　gate　and　they　walked　toward　the　lighted　runway。
　〃We　don't　need　them　or　want　them；〃　he　answered。　〃The　Soviet　connection　was　made　in　the　Montaigne；　so　we　have　to　assume　the　embassy's　being　watched。　No　guards　rushing　out　into　cars；　therefore　no　movement　on　our　part　for　Carlos's　people　to　report。〃
　〃I　see。〃　The　sound　of　a　small　decelerating　jet　could　be　heard　as　the　plane　circled　the　airfield　once　and　made　its　descent　onto　the　four…thousand…foot　runway。　〃I　love　you　so　much；　David；〃　said　Marie；　raising　her　voice　to　be　heard　over　the　roar　of　the　aircraft；　rolling　toward　them。
　〃He　loves　you　so　much；〃　said　Bourne；　images　colliding　in　his　mind。　〃I　love　you　so　much。〃
　The　jet　loomed　clearly　into　view　between　the　rows　of　amber　lights；　a　white　bullet…like　machine　with　short　delta　wings　sweeping　back　from　the　fuselage；　giving　it　the　appearance　of　an　angry　flying　insect。　The　pilot　swung　the　plane　around　in　a　circle；　ing　to　a　jarring　stop　as　the　automatic　passenger　door　sprang　out　and　up　while　metal　steps　slapped　down　to　the　ground。　Jason　and　Marie　ran　toward　the　jet's　entrance。
　It　happened　with　the　sudden　impact　of　a　murderous　wind　shear；　at　once　unstoppable；　enveloping；　the　swirling　winds　of　death！　Gunfire。　Automatic　weapons…two　of　them；　one　nearby；　one　farther　away…shattering　windows；　ripping　into　wood；　a　piercing　screech　of　pain　erupting　from　the　terminal；　announcing　a　mortal　hit。
　With　both　hands　Bourne　gripped　Marie　by　the　waist；　heaving　her　up　and　propelling　her　into　the　plane　as　he　shouted　to　the　pilot。　〃Shut　the　door　and　get　out　of　here！〃
　〃Mon　Dieu！〃　cried　the　man　from　the　open　flight　deck。　〃Allez…vous…en！〃　he　roared；　ordering　Jason　away　from　the　spring…hinged　door　and　the　metal　steps；　gunning　the　jet's　engine　as　the　plane　lurched　forward。　Jason　plunged　to　the　ground　and　raised　his　eyes。　Marie's　face　was　pressed　against　the　window；　she　was　screaming　hysterically。　The　plane　thundered　down　the　runway；　it　was　free。
　Bourne　was　not。　He　was　caught　in　the　wash　of　the　amber　lights；　the　glowing　rows　a　cyclorama　of　yellowish　orange。　No　matter　where　he　stood　or　knelt　or　crouched　he　was　in　silhouette。　So　he　pulled　out　the　automatic　from　his　belt…the　weapon；　he　reflected；　given　to　him　by　Bernardine…and　began　slithering；　snaking　his　way　across　the　asphalt　toward　the　bordering　grass　outside　the　fenced…gate　area。
　The　gunfire　erupted　again；　but　now　they　were　three　scattered　single　shots　from　within　the　terminal；　where　the　lights　had　been　extinguished。　They　had　to　have　e　from　Conklin's　gun；　or　possibly　the　clerk's　if　he　had　a　weapon；　Panov　did　not。　Then　who　had　been　hit？　。。。　No　time！　A　shattering　fusillade　burst　out　of　the　nearest　automatic　rifle；　it　was　steady；　prolonged　and　deadly；　spraying　the　side　of　the　small　building　and　the　gate　area。
　Then　the　second　automatic　weapon　menced　firing；　from　the　sound　it　was　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　terminal's　waiting　room。　Moments　later　there　were　two　single　shots；　the　last　one　acpanied　by　a　scream　。。。　again　on　the　other　side　of　the　building。
　〃I've　been　hit！〃　The　voice　was　the　cry　of　a　man　in　pain　。。。　on　the　other　side　of　the　building。　The　automatic　rifle！　Jason　slowly　rose　to　a　low　crouch　in　the　grass　and　peered　into　the　darkness。　A　fragment　of　blacker　darkness　moved。　He　raised　his　automatic　and　fired　into　the　moving　mass；　getting　to　his　feet　and　racing　across　the　gate　area；　turning　and　squeezing　the　trigger　until　he　was　both　out　of　bullets　and　out　of　sight　on　the　east　side　of　the　building；　where　the　runway　ended　and　the　amber　lights　stopped。　He　crawled　cautiously　to　the　section　of　the　waist…high　fence　that　paralleled　the　corner　of　the　small　terminal。　The　grayish…white　gravel　of　the　parking　area　was　a　gratifying　sight；　he　was　able　to　make　out　the　figure　of　a　man　writhing　on　the　stones。　The　figure　gripped　a　weapon　in　his　hands；　then　pushing　it　into　the　gravel；　raised　himself　to　a　half…sitting　position。
　〃Cugino！〃　he　screamed。　〃Help　me！〃　His　answer　was　another　burst　of　gunfire　from　the　west　side　of　the　building；　diagonally　to　the　right　of　the　wounded　man。　〃Holy　Christ！〃　he　shrieked。　〃I'm　hit　bad！〃　Again　the　reply　was　yet　another　fusillade　from　the　automatic　rifle；　these　rounds　simultaneous　with　crashing　glass。　The　killer　on　the　west　side　of　the　building　had　smashed　the　windows　and　was　blowing　apart　everything　inside。
　Bourne　dropped　the　useless　automatic　and　grabbed　the　top　of　the　fence；　vaulting　over　it；　his　left　leg　landing　in　agony　on　the　ground。　What's　happened　to　me？　Why　do　I　hurt？　Goddamn　it！　He　limped　to　the　wood…framed　corner　of　the　building　and　edged　his　face　to　the　open　space　beyond。　The　figure　on　the　gravel　fell　back；　unable　to　support　himself　on　the　automatic　rifle。　Jason　felt　the　ground；　found　a　large　rock；　and　threw　it　with　all　his　strength　beyond　the　wounded　man。　It　crashed；　bouncing　into　the　gravel；　for　an　instant　like　the　sound　of　approaching　footsteps。　The　killer　spastically　rose　and　spun　his　body　to　the　rear；　gripping　his　weapon；　which　twice　fell　out　of　his　grasp。
　Now！　Bourne　raced　across　the　stones　of　the　parking　lot　and　lunged　off　his　feet　down　into　the　man　with　the　gun。　He　tore　the　weapon　from　the　killer's　grip　and　crashed　the　metal　stock　into　his　skull。　The　short；　slender　man　went　limp。　And；　again；　suddenly；　there　was　another　crescendo　of　gunfire　from　the　west　exterior　of　the　terminal　building；　again　acpanied　by　the　shattering　of　glass。　The　first　and　nearer　killer　was　narrowing　down　his　targets。　He　had　to　be　stopped！　thought　Jason；　his　breath　gone；　every　muscle　in　his　body　in　pain。　Where　was　the　man　from　yesterday？　Where　was　Delta　from　Medusa？　The　Chameleon　from　Treadstone　Seventy…one？　Where　was　that　man？
　Bourne　grabbed　the　MAC…10　submachine　gun　from　the　unconscious　figure　on　the　gravel　and　raced　toward　the　side　door　of　the　terminal。
　〃Alex！〃　he　roared。　〃Let　me　in！　I've　got　the　weapon！〃
　The　door　crashed　open。　〃My　God；　you're　alive！〃　shouted　Conklin　in　the　darkness　of　the　shadows　as　Jason　ran　inside。　〃Mo's　in　bad　shape…he　was　shot　in　the　chest。　The　clerk's　dead　and　we　can't　raise　the　tower　out　on　the　field。　They　must　have　reached　it　first。〃　Alex　slammed　the　door　shut。　〃Get　down　on　the　floor！〃　A　fusillade　raked　the　walls。　Bourne　got　to　his　knees　and　fired　back；　then　threw　himself　down　beside　Conklin。
　〃What　happened？〃　cried　Jason；　breathless；　his　voice　strained；　the　sweat　dripping　down　his　face　and　stinging　his　eyes。
　〃The　Jackal　happened。〃
　〃How　did　he　do　it？〃
　〃He　fooled　us　all。　You；　me；　Krupkin　and　Lavier…worst　of　all；　me。　He　sent　the　word　out　that　he'd　be　away；　no　explanation　even　with　you　here　in　Paris；　just　that　he'd　be　gone　for　a　while。　We　thought　the　tra