rl.thebourneultimatum-第72章

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　〃Yes；　why　not　try　it。〃
　〃I　must　tell　you；　though；〃　said　Bernardine；　laughing。　〃He　once　chose　a　name；　admittedly　from　a　tombstone；　that　drove　the　Sыreté　fou…crazy！　It　was　the　alias　of　an　ax　murderer　the　authorities　had　been　hunting　for　months！〃
　〃That　is　funny；〃　agreed　Bourne；　chuckling。
　〃Yes；　very。　He　told　me　later　that　he　found　it　in　Rambouillet…in　a　cemetery　on　the　outskirts　of　Rambouillet。〃
　Rambouillet！　The　cemetery　where　Alex　had　tried　to　kill　him　thirteen　years　ago。　All　traces　of　a　smile　left　Jason's　lips　as　he　stared　at　Alex's　friend　from　the　Deuxième　Bureau。　〃You　know　who　I　am；　don't　you？〃　he　asked　softly。
　〃Yes；〃　answered　Bernardine。　〃It　was　not　so　difficult　to　piece　together；　not　with　the　rumors　and　the　gossip　out　of　the　Far　East。　After　all；　it　was　here　in　Paris　where　you　made　your　mark　on　Europe；　Mr。　Bourne。〃
　〃Does　anyone　else　know？〃
　〃Mon　Dieu；　non！　Nor　will　they。　I　must　explain；　I　owe　my　life　to　Alexander　Conklin；　our　modest　saint　of　les　opérations　noires…the　black　assignments　in　your　language。〃
　〃That's　not　necessary；　I　speak　French　fluently　。。。　or　didn't　Alex　tell　you　that？〃
　〃Oh；　my　God；　you　doubt　me；〃　said　the　Deuxième　man；　his　gray　eyebrows　arched。　〃Take　into　account；　young　man…younger　man…that　I　am　in　my　seventieth　year；　and　if　I　have　lapses　of　language　and　try　to　correct　them；　it　is　because　I　mean　to　be　kind；　not　subreptice。〃
　〃D'accord。　Je　regrette。　I　mean　that。〃
　〃Bien。　Alex　is　several　years　younger　than　I　am；　but　I　wonder　how　he's　handling　it。　The　age；　that　is。〃
　〃Same　as　you。　Badly。〃
　〃There　was　an　English　poet…a　Welsh　poet；　to　be　exact…who　wrote；　'Do　not　go　gently　into　that　good　night。'　Do　you　remember　it？〃
　〃Yes。　His　name　was　Dylan　Thomas　and　he　died　in　his　mid…thirties。　He　was　saying　fight　like　a　son　of　a　bitch。　Don't　give　in。〃
　〃I　mean　to　do　that。〃　Bernardine　again　reached　into　a　pocket　and　pulled　out　a　card。　〃Here　is　my　office…merely　consultant　status；　you　understand…and　on　the　back　I've　written　down　my　home　phone；　it　is　a　special　telephone；　actually　unique。　Call　me；　whatever　you　need　will　be　provided。　Remember；　I　am　the　only　friend　you　have　in　Paris。　No　one　else　knows　you　are　here。〃
　〃May　I　ask　you　a　question？〃
　〃Mais　certainement。〃
　〃How　can　you　do　the　things　you're　doing　for　me　when　for　all　intents　and　purposes　you've　been　put　out　to　pasture？〃
　〃Ah；〃　exclaimed　the　consultant　to　the　Deuxième　Bureau。　〃The　younger　man　grows　older！　Like　Alex；　I　carry　my　credentials　in　my　head。　I　know　the　secrets。　How　is　it　otherwise？〃
　〃You　could　be　taken　out；　neutralized…have　an　accident。〃
　〃Stupide；　young　man！　What　is　in　both　our　heads　we　say　is　written　down；　locked　away；　to　be　revealed　should　such　unnatural　acts　occur。　。。。　Of　course；　it's　all　nonsense；　for　what　do　we　really　know　that　could　not　be　denied；　labeled　as　the　ramblings　of　old　men；　but　they　do　not　know　that。　Fear；　monsieur。　It　is　the　most　potent　weapon　in　our　profession。　Second；　of　course；　is　embarrassment；　but　that　is　usually　reserved　for　the　Soviet　KGB　and　your　Federal　Bureau　of　Investigation；　both　of　which　fear　embarrassment　more　than　their　nations'　enemies。〃
　〃You　and　Conklin　e　from　the　same　street；　don't　you？〃
　〃But　of　course。　To　the　best　of　my　knowledge；　neither　of　us　has　a　wife　or　a　family；　only　sporadic　lovers　to　fill　our　beds；　and　loud；　annoying　nephews　and　nieces　to　fill　our　flats　on　certain　holidays；　no　really　close　friends　except　now　and　then　an　enemy　we　respect；　who；　for　all　we　know　and　in　spite　of　our　truce；　might　shoot　us　or　poison　us　with　a　drink。　We　must　live　alone；　you　see；　for　we　are　the　professionals…we　have　nothing　to　do　with　the　normal　world；　we　merely　use　it　as　a　couverture…as　we　slink　around　in　dark　alleys；　paying　or　promising　people　for　secrets　that　mean　nothing　where　summit　conferences　are　concerned。〃
　〃Then　why　do　you　do　it？　Why　not　walk　away　if　it's　so　useless？〃
　〃It's　in　the　blood　rushing　through　our　veins。　We've　been　trained。　Beat　the　enemy　in　the　deadly　game…he　takes　you　or　you　take　him；　and　it　is　better　that　you　take　him。〃
　〃That's　dumb。〃
　〃But　of　course。　It's　all　dumb。　So　why　does　Jason　Bourne　go　after　the　Jackal　here　in　Paris？　Why　doesn't　he　walk　away　and　say　Enough。　plete　protection　is　yours　for　the　asking。〃
　〃So's　prison。　Can　you　get　me　out　of　here　and　into　the　city？　I'll　find　a　hotel　and　be　in　touch　with　you。〃
　〃Before　you　are　in　touch　with　me；　reach　Alex。〃
　〃What？〃
　〃Alex　wants　you　to　call　him。　Something　happened。〃
　〃Where's　a　phone？〃
　〃Not　now。　Two　o'clock；　Washington　time；　you　have　well　over　an　hour。　He　won't　be　back　before　then。〃
　〃Did　he　say　what　it　was？〃
　〃I　think　he's　trying　to　find　out。　He　was　very　upset。〃
　The　room　at　the　Pont…Royal　on　the　rue　Montalembert　was　small　and　in　a　secluded　corner　of　the　hotel；　reached　by　taking　the　slow；　noisy　brass　elevator　to　the　top　floor　and　walking　down　two　narrow　intersecting　hallways；　all　of　which　was　satisfactory　to　Bourne。　It　reminded　him　of　a　mountain　cave；　remote　and　secure。
　To　chew　up　the　minutes　before　calling　Alex；　he　walked　along　the　nearby　boulevard　Saint…Germain；　making　necessary　purchases。　Various　toiletries　joined　several　articles　of　clothing；　casual　denims　called　for　summer　shirts　and　a　lightweight　safari　jacket；　dark　socks　required　tennis　shoes；　to　be　scuffed　and　soiled。　Whatever　he　could　supply　himself　now　would　save　time　later。　Fortunately；　there　was　no　need　to　press　old　Bernardine　for　a　weapon。　During　the　drive　into　Paris　from　Orly；　the　Frenchman　had　opened　the　glove　partment　of　his　car　in　silence；　withdrawn　a　taped　brown　box　and　handed　it　to　Jason。　Inside　was　an　automatic　with　two　boxes　of　shells。　Underneath；　neatly　layered；　were　thirty　thousand　francs；　in　varying　denominations；　roughly　five　thousand　dollars；　American。
　〃Tomorrow　I　will　arrange　a　method　for　you　to　obtain　funds　whenever　necessary。　Within　limits；　of　course。〃
　〃No　limits；〃　Bourne　had　contradicted。　〃I'll　have　Conklin　wire　you　a　hundred　thousand；　and　then　another　hundred　after　that；　if　it's　necessary。　You　just　tell　him　where。〃
　〃Of　contingency　funds？〃
　〃No。　Mine。　Thanks　for　the　gun。〃
　With　both　his　hands　holding　the　looped　strings　of　shopping　bags；　he　headed　back　to　Montalembert　and　the　hotel。　In　a　few　minutes　it　would　be　two　in　the　afternoon　in　Washington；　eight　at　night　in　Paris。　As　he　walked　rapidly　down　the　street　he　tried　not　to　think　about　Alex's　news…an　impossible　demand　on　himself。　If　anything　had　happened　to　Marie　and　the　children；　he'd　go　out　of　his　mind！　Yet　what　could　have　happened？　They　were　back　on　Tranquility　by　now；　and　there　was　no　safer　place　for　them。　There　was　not！　He　was　sure　of　that。　As　he　entered　the　old　elevator　and　lowered　the　bags　in　his　right　hand　so　as　to　push　the　number　of　his　floor　and　remove　the　hotel　key　from　his　pocket；　there　was　a　stinging　sensation　in　his　neck；　he　gasped…he　had　moved　too　fast；　stretched　the　gut　of　a　suture　perhaps。　He　felt　no　warm　trickle　of　blood；　it　was　merely　a　warning　this　time。　He　rushed　down　the　two　narrow　corridors　to　his　room；　unlocked　the　door；　threw　the　shopping　bags　on　the　bed；　and　rapidly　took　the　three　necessary　steps　to　the　desk　and　the　telephone。　Conklin　was　true　to　his　word；　the　phone　in　Vienna；　Virginia；　was　picked　up　on　the　first　ring。
　〃Alex；　it's　me。　What　happened？　Marie　。。。　？〃
　〃No；〃　interrupted　Conklin　curtly。　〃I　spoke　to　her　around　noon。　She　and　the　kids　are　back　at　the　inn　and　she's　ready　to　kill　me。　She　doesn't　believe　a　word　I　told　her　and　I'm　going　to　erase　the　tape。　I　haven't　heard　that　kind　of　language　since　the　Mekong　Delta。〃
　〃She's　upset…〃
　〃So　am　I；〃　broke　in　Alex；　not　bothering　to　make　light　of　Bourne's　understatement。　〃Mo's　disappeared。〃
　〃What？〃
　〃You　heard　me。　Panov's　gone；　vanished。〃
　〃My　God；　how？　He　was　guarded　every　minute！〃
　〃We're　trying　to　piece　it　together；　that's　where　I　was；　over　at　the　hospital。〃
　〃Hospital？〃
　〃Walter　Reed。　He　was　in　a　psych　session　with　a　military　this　morning；　and　when　it　was　over　he　never　came　out　to　his　detail。　They　waited　twenty　minutes　or　so；　then　went　in　to　find　him　and　his　escort　because　he　was　on　a　tight　schedule。　They　were　told　he　left。〃
　〃That's　crazy！〃
　〃It　gets　crazier　and　scarier。　The　head　floor　nurse　said　an　army　doctor；　a　surgeon；　came　to　the　desk；　showed