rl.thebourneultimatum-第91章

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t　know　a　quiche　from　a　kluski。〃
　〃Since　I　don't　either；〃　said　Holland；　〃may　I　have　a　word　with　you；　Frank？〃　The　two　older　men　walked　off　to　the　side　speaking　quietly　as　Alex　and　Mo　Panov　held　their　places；　the　latter　frowning　and　sporadically　breathing　deeply。　The　director　returned；　handing　lapel　pins　to　his　colleagues。　〃I　know　where　to　go　now；〃　he　said。　〃Frank　will　call　ahead。〃
　The　three　of　them　walked　up　the　curving　ornate　staircase；　Conklin　limping；　and　down　a　lushly　carpeted　hallway　on　the　left　to　the　rear　of　the　enormous　house。　On　the　right　wall　was　a　door　unlike　any　of　the　doors　they　had　passed；　it　was　made　of　thick　varnished　oak　with　four　small　windows　in　the　upper　recessed　panels　and　two　black　buttons　set　in　an　outlet　casing　beside　the　knob。　Holland　inserted　a　key；　twisted　it　and　pressed　the　lower　button；　instantly　a　red　light　appeared　in　the　small　stationary　camera　mounted　on　the　ceiling。　Twenty　seconds　later　there　was　the　familiar　muffled　metallic　clanking　of　an　elevator　ing　to　a　stop。　〃Inside；　gentlemen；〃　ordered　the　DCI。　The　door　closed　and　the　elevator　began　its　descent。
　〃We　walked　up　to　go　down？〃　asked　Conklin。
　〃Security；〃　answered　the　director。　〃It's　the　only　way　to　get　where　we're　going。　There's　no　elevator　on　the　first　floor。〃
　〃Why　not；　may　the　man　with　one　foot　missing　ask？〃　said　Alex。
　〃I'd　think　you'd　be　able　to　answer　that　better　than　me；〃　retorted　the　DCI。　〃Apparently　all　accesses　to　the　cellars　are　sealed　off　except　for　two　elevators　that　bypass　the　first　floor　and　for　which　you　need　a　key。　This　one　and　another　on　the　other　side；　this　takes　us　to　where　we　want　to　go；　the　other　leads　to　the　furnaces；　air…conditioning　units　and　all　the　rest　of　the　normal　basement　equipment。　Frank　gave　me　the　key；　incidentally。　If　it　doesn't　return　to　its　slot　within　a　given　period　of　time；　another　alarm　goes　off。〃
　〃It　all　strikes　me　as　unnecessarily　plicated；〃　said　Panov　curtly；　nervously。　〃Expensive　games。〃
　〃Not　necessarily；　Mo；〃　interrupted　Conklin　gently。　〃Explosives　can　be　concealed　pretty　easily　in　heating　pipes　and　ducts。　And　did　you　know　that　during　the　last　days　of　Hitler's　bunker　a　few　of　his　saner　aides　tried　to　insert　poison　gas　into　the　air…filtering　machinery？　These　are　just　precautions。〃
　The　elevator　stopped　and　the　door　opened。　〃To　your　left；　Doctor；〃　Holland　said。　The　hallway　was　a　glistening　pristine　white；　antiseptic　in　its　way；　which　was　altogether　proper；　as　this　underground　plex　was　a　highly　sophisticated　medical　center。　It　was　devoted　not　only　to　the　healing　of　men　and　women；　but　also　to　the　process　of　breaking　them　down；　crippling　their　resistance　so　that　information　might　be　revealed；　truths　learned　that　could　prevent　the　penetration　of　high…risk　operations；　frequently　saving　lives　as　a　result。
　They　entered　a　room　that　was　in　stark　contrast　to　the　antiseptic　quality　of　the　fluorescent…lit　hallway。　There　were　heavy　armchairs　and　soft　indirect　lighting；　a　coffee　urn　on　a　table　with　cups　and　saucers；　newspapers　and　magazines　were　folded　neatly　on　other　tables；　all　the　forts　of　a　lounge　designed　for　those　waiting　for　someone　or　something。　From　an　inner　door　a　man　in　a　white　medical　jacket　appeared；　he　was　frowning；　looking　uncertain。
　〃Director　Holland？〃　he　said；　approaching　Peter；　extending　his　hand。　〃I'm　Dr。　Walsh；　second　shift。　Needless　to　say；　we　didn't　expect　you。〃
　〃I'm　afraid　it's　an　emergency　and　hardly　one　of　my　choosing。　May　I　introduce　you　to　Dr。　Morris　Panov…unless　you　know　him？〃
　〃Of　him；　of　course。〃　Walsh　again　extended　his　hand。　〃A　pleasure；　Doctor；　also　a　privilege。〃
　〃You　may　take　both　back　before　we're　finished；　Doctor。　May　we　talk　privately？〃
　〃Certainly。　My　office　is　inside。〃　The　two　men　disappeared　through　the　inner　door。
　〃Shouldn't　you　go　with　them？〃　asked　Conklin；　looking　at　Peter。
　〃Why　not　you？〃
　〃Goddamn　it；　you're　the　director。　You　should　insist！〃
　〃You're　his　closest　friend。　So　should　you。〃
　〃I　don't　have　any　clout　here。〃
　〃Mine　disappeared　when　Mo　dismissed　us。　e　on；　let's　have　some　coffee。　This　place　gives　me　the　proverbial　creeps。〃　Holland　went　to　the　table　with　the　coffee　urn　and　poured　two　cups。　〃How　do　you　like　it？〃
　〃With　more　milk　and　sugar　than　I'm　supposed　to　have。　I'll　do　it。〃
　〃I　still　take　it　black；〃　said　the　director；　moving　away　from　the　table　and　removing　a　pack　of　cigarettes　from　his　shirt　pocket。　〃My　wife　says　the　acid　will　kill　me　one　day。〃
　〃Other　people　say　tobacco　will。〃
　〃What？〃
　〃Look。〃　Alex　pointed　at　the　sign　on　the　opposite　wall。　It　read：　THANK　YOU　FOR　NOT　SMOKING。
　〃That　I've　got　enough　clout　for；〃　announced　Holland　quietly　as　he　snapped　his　lighter　and　lit　a　cigarette。
　Nearly　twenty　minutes　passed。　Every　now　and　then　one　or　the　other　of　them　picked　up　a　magazine　or　a　newspaper　only　to　put　it　down　moments　later　and　look　up　at　the　inner　door。　Finally；　twenty…eight　minutes　after　he　had　disappeared　with　Panov；　the　doctor　named　Walsh　reappeared。
　〃He　tells　me　you　know　what　he's　requesting　and　that　you　have　no　objections；　Director　Holland。〃
　〃I've　got　plenty　of　objections；　but　it　seems　he's　overruled　them。　。。。　Oh；　excuse　me；　Doctor；　this　is　Alex　Conklin。　He's　one　of　us　and　a　close　friend　of　Panov。〃
　〃How　do　you　feel；　Mr。　Conklin？〃　asked　Walsh；　nodding　at　Alex　as　he　returned　the　greeting。
　〃I　hate　what　he's　doing…what　he　wants　to　do…but　he　says　it　makes　sense。　If　it　does；　it's　right　for　him　and　I　understand　why　he　insists　on　doing　it。　If　it　doesn't　make　sense；　I'll　pull　him　out　of　there　myself；　one　foot　and　all。　Does　it　make　sense；　Doctor？　And　what's　the　risk　of　damage？〃
　〃There's　always　a　risk　where　drugs　are　concerned；　especially　in　terms　of　chemical　balance；　and　he　knows　that。　It's　why　he's　designed　an　intravenous　flow　that　prolongs　his　own　psychological　pain　but　somewhat　reduces　the　potential　damage。〃
　〃Somewhat？〃　cried　Alex。
　〃I'm　being　honest。　So　is　he。〃
　〃Bottom　line；　Doctor；〃　said　Holland。
　〃If　things　go　wrong；　two　or　three　months　of　therapy；　not　permanent。〃
　〃And　the　sense？〃　insisted　Conklin。　〃Does　it　make　sense？〃
　〃Yes；〃　replied　Walsh。　〃What　happened　to　him　is　not　only　recent；　it's　consumed　him。　It's　obsessed　his　conscious；　which　can　only　mean　that　it's　inflamed　his　subconscious。　He's　right。　His　unreachable　recall　is　on　the　cutting　edge。　。。。　I　came　in　here　as　a　courtesy。　He's　insisted　we　proceed；　and　from　what　he's　told　me；　I'd　do　the　same　thing。　Each　of　us　would。〃
　〃What's　the　security？〃　asked　Alex。
　〃The　nurse　will　be　dismissed　and　stay　outside　the　door。　There'll　be　only　a　single　battery…operated　tape　recorder　and　me　。。。　and　one　or　both　of　you。〃　The　doctor　turned　to　the　door；　then　glanced　back。　〃I'll　send　for　you　at　the　proper　time；〃　he　added；　again　disappearing　inside。
　Conklin　and　Peter　Holland　looked　at　each　other。　The　second　period　of　waiting　began。
　To　their　astonishment；　it　ended　barely　ten　minutes　later。　A　nurse　came　out　into　the　lounge　and　asked　them　to　follow　her。　They　walked　through　what　appeared　to　be　a　maze　of　antiseptic　white　walls　broken　up　only　by　recessed　white　panels　with　glass　knobs　that　denoted　doors。　Only　once　on　their　brief　journey　did　they　see　another　human　being；　it　was　a　man　in　a　white　smock；　wearing　a　white　surgical　mask；　who　walked　out　of　yet　another　white　door；　his　sharp；　intense　eyes　above　the　white　cloth　somehow　accusing；　determining　them　to　be　aliens　from　some　different　world　that　had　not　been　cleared　for　Sterile　House　Five。
　The　nurse　opened　a　door；　there　was　a　blinking　red　light　above　its　top　frame。　She　put　her　index　finger　to　her　lips；　indicating　silence。　Holland　and　Conklin　walked　quietly　inside　a　dark　room　and　confronted　a　drawn　white　curtain　concealing　a　bed　or　an　examining　table　beyond；　a　small　circle　of　intense　light　shining　through　the　cloth。　They　heard　the　softly　spoken　words　of　Dr。　Walsh。
　〃You　are　going　back；　Doctor；　not　far　back；　just　a　day　or　so；　just　when　you　began　to　feel　the　dull；　constant　pain　in　your　arm　。。。　your　arm；　Doctor。　Why　are　they　inflicting　pain　on　your　arm？　You　were　in　a　farmhouse；　a　small　farmhouse　with　fields　outside　your　window；　and　then　they　put　a　blindfold　on　you　and　began　hurting　your　arm。　Your　arm；　Doctor。〃
　Suddenly；　there　was　a　muted　flashing　of　green　light　reflected　on　the　ceiling。