rl.thebourneultimatum-第139章

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a　strongbox　at　my　flat　on　Old　Road　Bay；　and　include　the　following：　a　total　of　seven　dollars　and　eighteen　cents　for　local　calls　to　Tranquility…I　would　not　use　my　official　phone；　twenty…three　dollars　and　sixty…five　cents　for　the　long…distance　call　to　Paris；　sixty…eight　dollars　and　eighty　cents　。。。　dinner　for　myself　and　my　nephew　at　Vue　Point；　a　business　conference；　naturally…〃
　〃That　will　do；〃　interrupted　Jonathan　Lemuel；　wiping　his　perspiring　black　brow　with　a　handkerchief；　although　the　tropical　fan　was　perfectly　adequate　for　the　room。
　〃I　am　prepared　to　submit　everything　at　the　proper　time…〃
　〃I　said　that　will　do；　Cyril。〃
　〃You　should　know　that　I　refused　a　taxi　driver　when　he　offered　to　inflate　the　price　of　a　receipt　and　soundly　criticized　him　in　my　official　position。〃
　〃Enough！〃　thundered　Sykes；　the　veins　in　his　neck　pronounced。　〃You　both　have　been　damn　fools　of　the　first　magnitude！　To　have　even　considered　John　St。　Jacques　a　criminal　of　any　sort　is　preposterous！〃
　〃Sir　Henry；〃　broke　in　the　younger　Pritchard。　〃I　myself　saw　what　happened　at　Tranquility　Inn！　It　was　so　horrible。　Coffins　on　the　dock；　the　chapel　blown　up；　government　boats　around　our　peaceful　isle…gunshots；　sir！　It　will　be　months　before　we're　back　in　full　operation。〃
　〃Exactly！〃　roared　Sykes。　〃And　do　you　believe　Johnny　St。　Jay　would　willingly　destroy　his　own　property；　his　own　business？〃
　〃Stranger　things　have　happened　in　the　outside　criminal　world；　Sir　Henry；〃　said　Cyril　Sylvester　Pritchard　knowingly。　〃In　my　official　capacity　I've　heard　many；　many　stories。　The　incidents　my　nephew　described　are　called　diversionary　tactics　employed　to　create　the　illusion　that　the　scoundrels　are　victims。　It　was　all　thoroughly　explained　to　me。〃
　〃Oh；　it　was；　was　it？〃　cried　the　former　brigadier　of　the　British　army。　〃Well；　let　me　explain　something　else；　shall　I？　You've　been　duped　by　an　international　terrorist　wanted　the　world　over！　Do　you　know　the　universal　penalty　for　aiding　and　abetting　such　a　killer？　I'll　make　it　plain；　in　case　it's　escaped　your　attention…in　your　official　capacity；　of　course。　。。。　It　is　death　by　firing　squad　or；　less　charitably；　a　public　hanging！　Now；　what's　that　goddamned　number　in　Paris？〃
　〃Under　the　circumstances；〃　said　the　deputy；　summoning　what　dignity　he　could　despite　the　fact　that　his　trembling　nephew　clutched　his　left　arm　and　his　hand　shook　as　he　reached　for　his　notebook。　〃I'll　write　it　out　for　you。　。。。　One　asks　for　a　blackbird。　In　French；　Sir　Henry。　I　speak　a　few　words；　Sir　Henry。　In　French…Sir　Henry。〃
　Summoned　by　an　armed　guard　dressed　casually　as　a　weekend　guest　in　white　slacks　and　a　loose；　bulky　white　linen　jacket；　John　St。　Jacques　walked　into　the　library　of　their　new　safe　house；　an　estate　on　Chesapeake　Bay。　The　guard；　a　muscular；　medium…sized　man　with　clean…cut　Hispanic　features；　stood　inside　the　doorway；　he　pointed　to　the　telephone　on　the　large　cherry…wood　desk。　〃It's　for　you；　Mr。　Jones。　It's　the　director。〃
　〃Thanks；　Hector；〃　said　Johnny；　pausing　briefly。　〃Is　that　Mr。　Jones　stuff　really　necessary？〃
　〃As　necessary　as　'Hector。'　My　real　name's　Roger　。。。　or　Daniel。　Whatever。〃
　〃Gotcha。〃　St。　Jacques　crossed　to　the　desk　and　picked　up　the　phone。　〃Holland？〃
　〃That　number　your　friend　Sykes　got　is　a　blind；　but　useful。〃
　〃As　my　brother…in…law　would　say；　please　speak　English。〃
　〃It's　the　number　of　a　café　on　the　Marais　waterfront　on　the　Seine。　The　routine　is　to　ask　for　a　blackbird…un　oiseau　noir…and　somebody　shouts　out。　If　the　blackbird's　there；　contact　is　made。　If　he　isn't；　you　try　again。〃
　〃Why　is　it　useful？〃
　〃We'll　try　again…and　again　and　again…with　a　man　inside。〃
　〃What's　happening　otherwise？〃
　〃I　can　only　give　you　a　limited　answer。〃
　〃Goddamn　you！〃
　〃Marie　can　fill　you　in…〃
　〃Marie？〃
　〃She's　on　her　way　home。　She's　mad　as　hell；　but　she's　also　one　relieved　wife　and　mother。〃
　〃Why　is　she　mad？〃
　〃I've　booked　her　low…key　on　several　long　flights　back…〃
　〃For　Christ's　sake；　why？〃　broke　in　the　brother　angrily。　〃You　send　a　goddamned　plane　for　her！　She's　been　more　valuable　to　you　than　anyone　in　your　dumb　Congress　or　your　corkscrew　administration；　and　you　send　planes　for　them　all　over　the　place。　I'm　not　joking；　Holland！〃
　〃I　don't　send　those　planes；〃　replied　the　director　firmly。　〃Others　do。　The　ones　I　send　involve　too　many　questions　and　too　much　curiosity　on　foreign　soil　and　that's　all　I'll　say　about　it。　Her　safety　is　more　important　than　her　fort。〃
　〃We　agree　on　that；　honcho。〃
　The　director　paused；　his　irritation　apparent。　〃You　know　something？　You're　not　really　a　very　pleasant　fellow；　are　you？〃
　〃My　sister　puts　up　with　me；　which　more　than　offsets　your　opinion。　Why　is　she　relieved…as　a　wife　and　mother；　I　think　you　said？〃
　Again　Holland　paused；　not　in　irritation　now；　but　searching　for　the　words。　〃A　disagreeable　incident　took　place；　one　none　of　us　could　predict　or　even　contemplate。〃
　〃Oh；　I　hear　those　famous　fucking　words　from　the　American　establishment！〃　roared　St。　Jacques。　〃What　did　you　miss　this　time？　A　truckload　of　U。S。　missiles　to　the　Ayatollah's　agents　in　Paris？　What　happened？〃
　For　a　third　time；　Peter　Holland　employed　a　moment　of　silence；　although　his　heavy　breathing　was　audible。　〃You　know；　young　man；　I　could　easily　hang　up　the　phone　and　dismiss　your　existence；　which　would　be　quite　beneficial　for　my　blood　pressure。〃
　〃Look；　honcho；　that's　my　sister　out　there；　and　a　guy　she's　married　to　who　I　think　is　pretty　terrific。　Five　years　ago；　you　bastards…I　repeat；　you　bastards…damn　near　killed　them　both　over　in　Hong　Kong　and　points　east。　I　don't　know　all　the　facts　because　they're　too　decent　or　too　dumb　to　talk　about　them；　but　I　know　enough　to　know　I　wouldn't　trust　you　with　a　waiter's　payroll　in　the　islands！〃
　〃Fair　enough；〃　said　Holland；　subdued。　〃Not　that　it　matters；　but　I　wasn't　here　then。〃
　〃It　doesn't　matter。　It's　your　subterranean　system。　You　would　have　done　the　same　thing。〃
　〃Knowing　the　circumstances；　I　might　have。　So　might　you；　if　you　knew　them。　But　that　doesn't　matter；　either。　It's　history。〃
　〃And　now　is　now；〃　broke　in　St。　Jacques。　〃What　happened　in　Paris；　this　'disagreeable　incident'？〃
　〃According　to　Conklin；　there　was　an　ambush　at　a　private　airfield　in　Pontcarré。　It　was　aborted。　Your　brother…in…law　wasn't　hurt　and　neither　was　Alex。　That's　all　I　can　tell　you。〃
　〃It's　all　I　want　to　hear。〃
　〃I　spoke　to　Marie　a　little　while　ago。　She's　in　Marseilles　and　will　be　here　late　tomorrow　morning。　I'll　meet　her　myself　and　we'll　be　driven　out　to　Chesapeake。〃
　〃What　about　David？〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃My　brother…in…law？〃
　〃Oh　。。。　yes；　of　course。　He's　on　his　way　to　Moscow。〃
　〃What？〃
　The　Aeroflot　jetliner　reversed　engines　and　swung　off　the　runway　at　Moscow's　Sheremetyevo　Airport。　The　pilot　taxied　down　the　adjacent　exit　lane；　then　stopped　a　quarter　of　a　mile　from　the　terminal　as　an　announcement　was　made　in　both　Russian　and　French。
　〃There　will　be　a　five…　to　seven…minute　delay　before　disembarkation。　Please　remain　seated。〃
　No　explanation　acpanied　the　information；　and　those　passengers　on　the　flight　from　Paris　who　were　not　Soviet　citizens　returned　to　their　reading　material；　assuming　the　delay　was　caused　by　a　backup　of　departing　aircraft。　However；　those　who　were　citizens；　as　well　as　a　few　others　familiar　with　Soviet　arrival　procedures；　knew　better。　The　curtained…off　front　section　of　the　huge　Ilyushin　jet；　a　small　seating　area　that　was　reserved　for　special　unseen　passengers；　was　in　the　process　of　being　evacuated；　if　not　totally；　at　least　in　part。　The　custom　was　for　an　elevated　platform　with　a　shielded　metal　staircase　to　be　rolled　up　to　the　front　exit　door。　Several　hundred　feet　away　there　was　always　a　government　limousine；　and　while　the　backs　of　those　disembarked　special　passengers　were　briefly　in　view　on　their　way　to　the　vehicles；　flight　attendants　roamed　through　the　aircraft　making　sure　no　cameras　were　in　evidence。　There　never　were。　These　travelers　were　the　property　of　the　KGB；　and　for　reasons　known　only　to　the　Komitet；　they　were　not　to　be　observed　in　Sheremetyevo's　international　terminal。　It　was　the　case　this　late　afternoon　on　the　outskirts　of　Moscow。
　Alex　Conklin　limped　out　of　the　shielded　staircase　followed　by　Bourne；　who　carried　the　two　outsized　flight　bags　that　served　as　their　minimum　luggage。　Dimi