rl.thebourneultimatum-第15章

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！


we　don't　talk　about；　but　it's　on　my　mind。〃
　〃They're　why　I　need　your　help。〃
　〃Be　clearer；　Jason。〃
　〃The　Jackal's　closing　in。　He　found　us　in　Hong　Kong　and　he's　zeroing　in　on　me　and　my　family；　on　my　wife　and　my　children。　Please；　help　me。〃
　The　old　man's　eyes　grew　wide　under　the　green　shade；　a　moral　fury　in　his　expanded　pupils。　〃Does　the　good　doctor　know　about　this？〃
　〃He's　part　of　it。　He　may　not　approve　of　what　I'm　doing；　but　if　he's　honest　with　himself；　he　knows　that　the　bottom　line　is　the　Jackal　and　me。　Help　me；　Cactus。〃
　The　aged　black　studied　his　pleading　client　in　the　hallway；　in　the　afternoon　shadows。　〃You　in　good　shape；　Br'er　Rabbit？〃　he　asked。　〃You　still　got　juices？〃
　〃I　run　six　miles　every　morning　and　I　press　weights　at　least　twice　a　week　in　the　university　gym…〃
　〃I　didn't　hear　that。　I　don't　want　to　know　anything　about　colleges　or　universities。〃
　〃Then　you　didn't　hear　it。〃
　〃　'Course　I　didn't。　You　look　in　pretty　fair　condition；　I'll　say　that。〃
　〃It's　deliberate；　Cactus；〃　said　Jason　quietly。　〃Sometimes　it's　just　a　telephone　suddenly　ringing；　or　Marie's　late　or　out　with　the　kids　and　I　can't　reach　her　。。。　or　someone　I　don't　know　stops　me　in　the　street　to　ask　directions；　and　it　es　back…he　es　back。　The　Jackal。　As　long　as　there's　a　possibility　that　he's　alive；　I　have　to　be　ready　for　him　because　he　won't　stop　looking　for　me。　The　awful　irony　is　that　his　hunt　is　based　on　a　supposition　that　may　not　be　true。　He　thinks　I　can　identify　him；　but　I'm　not　sure　I　could。　Nothing's　really　in　focus　yet。〃
　〃Have　you　considered　sending　that　message　to　him？〃
　〃With　his　assets　maybe　I'll　take　an　ad　out　in　the　Wall　Street　Journal。　'Dear　Old　Buddy　Carlos：　Boy；　have　I　got　news　for　you。'　〃
　〃Don't　chortle；　Jason；　it's　not　inconceivable。　Your　friend　Alex　could　find　a　way。　His　gimp　doesn't　affect　that　head　of　his。　I　believe　the　fancy　word　is　serpentine。〃
　〃Which　is　why　if　he　hasn't　tried　it　there's　a　reason。〃
　〃I　guess　I　can't　argue　with　that。　。。。　So　let's　go　to　work；　Br'er　Rabbit。　What　did　you　have　in　mind？〃　Cactus　led　the　way　through　a　wide　archway　toward　a　door　at　the　rear　of　a　worn　out　living　room　replete　with　ancient　furniture　and　yellowed　antimacassars。　〃My　studio　isn't　as　elegant　as　it　was　but　all　the　equipment's　there。　You　see；　I'm　sort　of　semi…retired。　My　financial　planners　worked　out　a　hell　of　a　retirement　program　with　great　tax　advantages；　so　the　pressure's　not　so　great。〃
　〃You're　only　incredible；〃　said　Bourne。
　〃I　imagine　some　people　might　say　that；　the　ones　not　doin'　time。　What　did　you　have　in　mind？〃
　〃Pretty　much　myself。　Not　Europe　or　Hong　Kong；　of　course。　Just　papers；　actually。〃
　〃So　the　Chameleon　retreats　to　another　disguise。　Himself。〃
　Jason　stopped　as　they　approached　the　door。　〃That　was　something　else　I　forgot。　They　used　to　call　me　that；　didn't　they？〃
　〃Chameleon？　。。。　They　sure　did　and　not　without　cause；　as　they　say。　Six　people　could　e　face…to…face　with　our　boy　Bourne　and　there'd　be　six　different　descriptions。　Without　a　jar　of　makeup；　incidentally。〃
　〃It's　all　ing　back；　Cactus。〃
　〃I　wish　to　almighty　God　that　it　didn't　have　to；　but　if　it　does；　you　make　damn　sure　it's　all　back。　。。。　e　on　into　the　magic　room。〃
　Three　hours　and　twenty　minutes　later　the　magic　was　pleted。　David　Webb；　Oriental　scholar　and　for　three　years　Jason　Bourne；　assassin；　had　two　additional　aliases　with　passports；　driver's　licenses　and　voter　registration　cards　to　confirm　the　identities。　And　since　no　cabs　would　travel　out　to　Cactus's　〃turf；〃　an　unemployed　neighbor　wearing　several　heavy　gold　chains　around　his　neck　and　wrists　drove　Cactus's　client　into　the　heart　of　Washington　in　his　new　Cadillac　Allante。
　Jason　found　a　pay　phone　in　Garfinkel's　department　store　and　called　Alex　in　Virginia；　giving　him　both　aliases　and　selecting　one　for　the　Mayflower　hotel。　Conklin　would　officially　secure　a　room　through　the　management　in　the　event　that　summer　reservations　were　tight。　Further；　Langley　would　activate　a　Four　Zero　imperative　and　do　its　best　to　furnish　Bourne　with　the　material　he　needed；　delivering　it　to　his　room　as　soon　as　possible。　The　estimate　was　a　minimum　of　an　additional　three　hours；　no　guarantees　as　to　the　time　or　authenticity。　Regardless；　thought　Jason；　as　Alex　reconfirmed　the　information　on　a　second　direct　line　to　the　CIA；　he　needed　at　least　two　of　those　three　hours　before　going　to　the　hotel。　He　had　a　small　wardrobe　to　put　together；　the　Chameleon　was　reverting　to　type。
　〃Steve　DeSole　tells　me　he'll　start　spinning　the　disks；　crosschecking　ours　with　the　army　data　banks　and　naval　intelligence；〃　said　Conklin；　returning　to　the　line。　〃Peter　Holland　can　make　it　happen；　he's　the　president's　crony。〃
　〃Crony？　That's　an　odd　word　ing　from　you。〃
　〃Like　in　crony　appointment。〃
　〃Oh？　。。。　Thanks；　Alex。　How　about　you？　Any　progress？〃
　Conklin　paused；　and　when　he　answered　his　quiet　voice　conveyed　his　fear；　it　was　controlled　but　the　fear　was　there。　〃Let's　put　it　this　way。　。。。　I'm　not　equipped　for　what　I've　learned。　I've　been　away　too　long。　I'm　afraid；　Jason…sorry　。。。　David。〃
　〃You're　right　the　first　time。　Have　you　discussed…〃
　〃Nothing　by　name；〃　broke　in　the　retired　intelligence　officer　quickly；　firmly。
　〃I　see。〃
　〃You　couldn't；〃　contradicted　Alex。　〃I　couldn't。　I'll　be　in　touch。〃　With　these　cryptic　words　Conklin　abruptly　hung　up。
　Slowly　Bourne　did　the　same；　frowning　in　concern。　Alex　was　the　one　now　sounding　melodramatic；　and　it　was　not　like　him　to　think　that　way　or　act　that　way。　Control　was　his　byword；　understatement　his　persona。　Whatever　he　had　learned　profoundly　disturbed　him　。。。　so　much　so　as　to　make　it　seem　to　Bourne　that　he　no　longer　trusted　the　procedures　he　himself　had　set　up；　or　even　the　people　he　was　working　with。　Otherwise　he　would　have　been　clearer；　more　forthing；　instead；　for　reasons　Jason　could　not　fathom；　Alexander　Conklin　did　not　want　to　talk　about　Medusa　or　whatever　he　had　learned　in　peeling　away　twenty　years　of　deceit。　。。。　Was　it　possible？
　No　time！　No　use；　not　now；　considered　Bourne；　looking　around　the　huge　department　store。　Alex　was　not　only　as　good　as　his　word；　he　lived　by　it；　as　long　as　one　was　not　an　enemy。　Ruefully；　suppressing　a　short　throated　laugh；　Jason　remembered　Paris　thirteen　years　ago。　He　knew　that　side　of　Alex；　too。　But　for　the　cover　of　gravestones　in　a　cemetery　on　the　outskirts　of　Rambouillet；　his　closest　friend　would　have　killed　him。　That　was　then；　not　now。　Conklin　said　he'd　〃be　in　touch。〃　He　would。　Until　then　the　Chameleon　had　to　build　several　covers。　From　the　inside　to　the　outside；　from　underwear　to　outerwear　and　everything　in　between。　No　chance　of　a　laundry　or　a　cleaning　mark　ing　to　light；　no　microscopic　chemical　evidence　of　a　regionally　distributed　detergent　or　fluid…nothing。　He　had　given　too　much。　If　he　had　to　kill　for　David's　family　。。。　oh；　my　God！　For　my　family！　。。。　he　refused　to　live　with　the　consequences　of　that　killing　or　those　killings。　Where　he　was　going　there　were　no　rules；　the　innocent　might　well　die　in　the　cross　fire。　So　be　it。　David　Webb　would　violently　object；　but　Jason　Bourne　didn't　give　a　goddamn。　He'd　been　there　before；　he　knew　the　statistics；　Webb　knew　nothing。
　Marie；　I'll　stop　him！　I　promise　you　I'll　rip　him　out　of　your　lives。　I'll　take　the　Jackal　and　leave　a　dead　man。　He'll　never　be　able　to　touch　you　again…you'll　be　free。
　Oh；　Christ；　who　am　I？　Mo；　help　me！　。。。　No；　Mo；　don't！　I　am　what　I　have　to　be。　I　am　cold　and　I'm　getting　colder。　Soon　I'll　be　ice　。。。　clear；　transparent　ice；　ice　so　cold　and　pure　it　can　move　anywhere　without　being　seen。　Can't　you　understand；　Mo…you；　too；　Marie…I　have　to！　David　has　to　go。　I　can't　have　him　around　any　longer。
　Forgive　me；　Marie；　and　you　forgive　me；　Doctor；　but　I'm　thinking　the　truth。　A　truth　that　has　to　be　faced　right　now。　I'm　not　a　fool；　nor　do　I　fool　myself。　You　both　want　me　to　let　Jason　Bourne　get　out　of　my　life；　release　him　to　some　infinity；　but　the　reverse　is　what　I　have　to　do　now。　David　has　to　leave；　at　least　for　a　while。
　Don't　bother　me　with　such　considerations！　I　have　work　to　do。
　Where　the　hell　is　the　men's　department？　When　he　was　finished　making　his　purchases；　all　paid　for　in　cash　with　as　many　different　clerks　as　possible；　he　would　find　a　men's　room　where　he　would　replace　every　stitch　of　clothing　on　his　body。　After