rl.thebourneultimatum-第67章

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　〃Someone　found　the　key；　Mr。　Precision；〃　said　the　New　Yorker；　not　smiling。
　〃Oh；　my　God；　that's　terrible！　What　should　I　do？〃
　〃Make　up　a　story　between　you　and　Teagarten；　but　do　it　from　public　phones；〃　continued　the　mafioso。　〃One　of　you　will　e　up　with　something。〃
　〃You　know　about　。。。　Brussels？〃
　〃There's　very　little　I　don't　know。〃
　〃That　son　of　a　bitch　conned　me　into　thinking　he　was　one　of　us　and　he　had　me　by　the　balls！〃　said　Armbruster　angrily；　continuing　to　walk　along　the　edge　of　the　parking　lot；　the　other　two　joining　him；　DeSole　hesitantly；　apprehensively。　〃He　seemed　to　know　everything；　but　when　I　think　back；　he　only　brought　up　bits　and　pieces…damned　big　bits　and　pieces　like　Burton　and　you　and　Brussels…and　I；　like　a　fucking　idiot；　filled　in　a　hell　of　a　lot　more。　Shit！〃
　〃Now；　just　wait　a　minute！〃　cried　the　CIA　analyst；　once　again　forcing　the　others　to　stop。　〃I　don't　understand…I'm　a　strategist；　and　I　don't　understand。　What　was　David　Webb　Jason　Bourne；　if　he　is　Jason　Bourne…doing　at　Swayne's　place　the　other　night？〃
　〃Who　the　hell　is　Jason　Bourne？〃　roared　the　chairman　of　the　Federal　Trade　mission。
　〃He's　the　tie…in　with　Saigon's　Medusa　that　I　just　mentioned。　Thirteen　years　ago　the　Agency　gave　him　the　name　Jason　Bourne；　the　original　Bourne　a　dead　man　by　then；　and　sent　him　out　in　deep　cover　on　a　Four　Zero　assignment…a　termination　with　extreme　prejudice；　if　you　like…〃
　〃A　hit；　if　you　want　to　speak　English；　paisan。〃
　〃Yes；　yes；　that's　what　it　was。　。。。　But　things　went　wrong；　he　had　a　loss　of　memory　and　the　operation　collapsed。　It　collapsed；　but　he　survived。〃
　〃Holy　Christ；　what　a　bunch　of　zucchinis！〃
　〃What　can　you　tell　us　about　this　Webb　。。。　or　Bourne…this　Simon　or　the　'Cobra'？　Jesus；　he's　a　walking　vaudeville　act！〃
　〃Apparently　that's　what　he　did　before。　He　assumed　different　names；　different　appearances；　different　personalities。　He　was　trained　to　do　that　when　he　was　sent　out　to　challenge　the　assassin　called　the　Jackal…to　draw　him　out　and　kill　him。〃
　〃The　Jackal？〃　asked　the　astonished　capo　supremo　of　the　Cosa　Nostra。　〃Like　in　the　movie？〃
　〃No；　not　the　movie　or　the　book；　you　idiot…〃
　〃Hey；　easy；　amico。〃
　〃Oh；　shut　up。　。。。　Ilich　Ramirez　Sanchez；　otherwise　known　as　Carlos　the　Jackal；　is　a　living　person；　a　professional　killer　the　international　authorities　have　been　hunting　for　over　a　quarter　of　a　century。　Outside　of　scores　of　confirmed　hits；　many　think　he　was　the　puff　of　smoke　on　the　grassy　knoll　in　Dallas；　the　true　killer　of　John　Kennedy。〃
　〃You're　shittin'　me。〃
　〃I　can　assure　you；　I　am　not　shitting　you。　The　word　we　got　at　the　Agency　at　the　highest　secure　levels　was　that　after　all　these　years　Carlos　had　tracked　down　the　only　man　alive　who　could　identify　him；　Jason　Bourne…or；　as　I'm　firmly　convinced；　David　Webb。〃
　〃That　word　had　to　e　from　somebody！〃　exploded　Albert　Armbruster。　〃Who　was　it？〃
　〃Oh；　yes。　Everything's　so　sudden；　so　bewildering。　。。。　He's　a　retired　field　agent　with　a　crippled　leg；　a　man　named　Conklin；　Alexander　Conklin。　He　and　a　psychiatrist…Panov；　Morris　Panov…are　close　friends　of　Webb　。。。　or　Jason　Bourne。〃
　〃Where　are　they？〃　asked　the　capo　supremo　grimly。
　〃Oh；　you　couldn't　reach　either　one；　talk　to　either　of　them。　They're　both　under　maximum　security。〃
　〃I　didn't　ask　for　the　rules　of　engagement；　paisan；　I　asked　where　they　were。〃
　〃Well；　Conklin's　at　a　condominium　in　Vienna；　a　proprietary　of　ours　no　one　could　penetrate；　and　Panov's　apartment　and　office　are　both　under　round…the…clock　surveillance。〃
　〃You'll　give　me　the　addresses；　won't　you？〃
　〃Certainly；　but　I　guarantee　they　won't　talk　to　you。〃
　〃Oh；　that　would　be　a　pity。　We're　just　looking　for　a　guy　with　a　dozen　names；　asking　questions；　offering　assistance。〃
　〃They　won't　buy　it。〃
　〃Maybe　I　can　sell　it。〃
　〃Goddamn　it；　why？〃　spouted　Armbruster；　then　immediately　lowered　his　voice。　〃Why　was　this　Webb　or　Bourne　or　whoever　the　hell　he　is　at　Swayne's？〃
　〃It's　a　gap　I　can't　fill；〃　said　DeSole。
　〃A　what？〃
　〃That's　an　Agency　term　for　no　answer。〃
　〃No　wonder　the　country's　up　shit's　creek。〃
　〃That's　not　true…〃
　〃Now　you　shut　up！〃　ordered　the　man　from　New　York；　reaching　into　his　pocket　and　pulling　out　a　small　notepad　and　a　ballpoint　pen。　〃Write　out　the　addresses　of　this　retired　spook　and　the　yid　shrink。　Now！〃
　〃It's　difficult　to　see；〃　said　DeSole；　writing；　angling　the　small　pad　of　paper　toward　the　neon　lights　of　the　closed　gas　station。　〃There。　The　apartment　number　may　be　wrong　but　it's　close；　and　Panov's　name　will　be　on　the　mailbox。　But　I　tell　you　again；　he　won't　talk　to　you。〃
　〃Then　we'll　just　have　to　apologize　for　interrupting　him。〃
　〃Yes；　you　probably　will。　I　gather　he's　very　dedicated　where　his　patients　are　concerned。〃
　〃Oh？　Like　that　telephone　line　into　your　fax　machine。〃
　〃No；　no；　that's　a　technical　term。　Number　Three　wire；　to　be　precise。〃
　〃And　you're　always　precise；　aren't　you；　paisan？〃
　〃And　you're　very　irritating…〃
　〃We've　got　to　go；〃　broke　in　Armbruster；　watching　the　New　Yorker　take　back　the　pad　and　the　ballpoint　pen。　〃Stay　calm；　Steven；〃　he　added；　obviously　suppressing　his　anger　and　heading　back　to　the　limousine。　〃Remember；　there's　nothing　we　can't　handle。　When　you　talk　to　Jimmy　T　in　Brussels；　see　if　you　two　can　e　up　with　a　reasonable　explanation；　okay？　If　not；　don't　worry；　we'll　figure　it　out　upstairs。〃
　〃Of　course；　Mr。　Armbruster。　But　if　I　may　ask？　Is　my　account　in　Bern　ready　for　immediate　release…in　case　。。。　well；　you　understand　。。。　in　case…〃
　〃Of　course　it　is；　Steven。　All　you　have　to　do　is　fly　over　and　write　out　the　numbers　of　your　account　in　your　own　handwriting。　That's　your　signature；　the　one　on　file；　remember？〃
　〃Yes；　yes；　I　do。〃
　〃It　must　be　over　two　million　by　now。〃
　〃Thank　you。　Thank　you　。。。　sir。〃
　〃You've　earned　it；　Steven。　Good　night。〃
　The　two　men　settled　back　in　the　rear　seat　of　the　limousine；　but　there　was　no　lack　of　tension。　Armbruster　glanced　at　the　mafioso　as　the　chauffeur；　beyond　the　glass　partition；　turned　on　the　ignition。　〃Where's　the　other　car？〃
　The　Italian　switched　on　the　reading　light　and　looked　at　his　watch。　〃By　now　he's　parked　less　than　a　mile　down　the　road　from　the　gas　station。　He'll　pick　up　DeSole　on　his　way　back　and　stay　with　him　until　the　circumstances　are　right。〃
　〃Your　man　knows　exactly　what　to　do？〃
　〃e　on；　a　virgin　he's　not。　He's　got　a　searchlight　mounted　on　that　car　so　powerful　it　can　be　seen　in　Miami。　He　es　alongside；　switches　it　on　high；　and　wiggles　the　handle。　Your　two　million…dollar　flunky　is　blinded　and　out　of　business；　and　we're　only　charging　a　quarter　of　that　amount　for　the　job。　It's　your　day；　Alby。〃
　The　chairman　of　the　Federal　Trade　mission　sat　back　in　the　shadows　of　the　left　rear　seat　and　stared　out　the　window　at　the　dark；　rushing　images　beyond　the　smoked　glass。　〃You　know；〃　he　said　quietly；　〃if　anyone　had　ever　told　me　twenty　years　ago　that　I'd　be　sitting　in　this　car　with　someone　like　you；　saying　what　I'm　saying；　I　would've　told　him　it　was　impossible。〃
　〃Oh；　that's　what　we　like　about　you　class…act　characters。　You　look　down　your　noses　and　drip　your　snot　on　us　until　you　need　us。　Then　all　of　a　sudden　we're　'associates。'　Live　and　be　well；　Alby；　we're　eliminating　another　problem　for　you。　Go　back　to　your　big　federal　mission　and　decide　which　panies　are　clean　and　which　aren't…decisions　not　necessarily　based　on　soap；　right？〃
　〃Shut　up！〃　roared　Armbruster；　pounding　his　hand　on　the　armrest。　〃This　Simon…this　Webb！　Where's　he　ing　from？　What's　he　on　our　case　for？　What's　he　want？〃
　〃Something　to　do　with　that　Jackal　character　maybe。〃
　〃That　doesn't　make　sense。　We　don't　have　anything　to　do　with　the　Jackal。〃
　〃Why　should　you？〃　asked　the　mafioso；　grinning。　〃You　got　us；　right？〃
　〃It's　a　very　loose　association　and　don't　you　forget　it。　。。。　Webb…Simon；　goddamn　it；　whoever　he　is；　we've　got　to　find　him！　With　what　he　already　knew；　plus　what　I　told　him；　he's　a　fucking　menace！〃
　〃He's　a　real　major　item；　isn't　he？〃
　〃A　major　item；〃　agreed　the　chairman；　again　staring　out　the　window；　his　right　fist　clenched；　the　fingers　of　his　left　hand　drumming　furiously　on　the　armrest。
　〃You　want　to　negotiate？〃
　〃What？〃　snapped　Armbruster；　turning　and　looking　at　the　calm　Sicilian　face　of　his　panion。
　〃You　heard　me；　only　I　used　the　wrong　word　and　I　apo