rl.thebourneultimatum-第47章

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a　tan　gabardine　suit　approached　him　and　threw　his　arms　around　the　aged　hero　of　France。　Fontaine　pushed　the　man　away　in　panic　and　bewilderment。　The　words　erupted　out　of　the　radio　in　Bourne's　pocket。　〃Claude！　Quelle　secousse！　Vous　etes　ici！〃
　The　ancient　friend　replied　in　a　tremulous　voice；　speaking　French。　〃It　is　a　privilege　our　monseigneur　permitted　me。　To　see　for　a　final　time　my　sister；　and　to　give　fort　to　my　friend；　her　husband。　I　am　here　and　I　am　with　you！〃
　〃With　me？　He　brought　you　here？　But；　of　course；　he　did！〃
　〃I　am　to　take　you　to　him。　The　great　man　wishes　to　speak　with　you。〃
　〃Do　you　know　what　you're　doing…what　you've　done？〃
　〃I　am　with　you；　with　her。　What　else　matters？〃
　〃She's　dead！　She　took　her　own　life　last　night！　He　intended　to　kill　us　both。〃
　Shut　off　your　radio！　screamed　Bourne　in　the　silence　of　his　thoughts。　Kill　the　radio！　It　was　too　late。　The　left　door　of　the　chapel　opened　and　the　silhouetted　figure　of　a　man　walked　out　into　the　floodlit　corridor　of　colored　lights。　He　was　young；　muscular　and　blond；　with　blunt　features　and　rigid　posture。　Was　the　Jackal　training　someone　else　to　take　his　place？
　〃e　with　me；　please；〃　said　the　blond　man；　his　French　gentle　but　icily　manding。　〃You；〃　he　added；　addressing　the　old　man　in　the　tan　gabardine　suit。　〃Stay　where　you　are。　At　the　slightest　sound；　fire　your　gun。　。。。　Take　it　out。　Hold　it　in　your　hand。〃
　〃Oui；　monsieur。〃
　Jason　watched　helplessly　as　Fontaine　was　escorted　through　the　door　of　the　chapel。　From　the　pocket　of　his　jacket　there　was　an　eruption　of　static　followed　by　a　snap；　the　Frenchman's　radio　had　been　found　and　destroyed。　Yet　something　was　wrong；　off　center；　out　of　balance…or　perhaps　too　symmetrical。　It　made　no　sense　for　Carlos　to　use　the　location　of　a　failed　trap　a　second　time；　no　sense　at　all！　The　appearance　of　the　brother　of　Fontaine's　wife　was　an　exceptional　move；　worthy　of　the　Jackal；　a　truly　unexpected　move　within　the　swirling　winds　of　confusion；　but　not　this；　not　again　Tranquility　Inn's　superfluous　chapel。　It　was　too　orderly；　too　repetitive；　too　obvious。　Wrong。
　And　therefore　right？　considered　Bourne。　Was　it　the　illogical　logic　of　the　assassin　who　had　eluded　a　hundred　special　branches　of　the　international　intelligence　munity　for　nearly　thirty　years？　〃He　wouldn't　do　that…it's　crazy！〃　〃。。。　Oh；　yes；　he　might　because　he　knows　we　think　it's　crazy。〃　Was　the　Jackal　in　the　chapel　or　wasn't　he？　If　not；　where　was　he？　Where　had　he　set　his　trap？
　The　lethal　chess　game　was　not　only　supremely　intricate；　it　was　sublimely　intimate。　Others　might　die；　but　only　one　of　them　would　live。　It　was　the　only　way　it　could　end。　Death　to　the　seller　of　death　or　death　to　the　challenger；　one　seeking　the　preservation　of　a　legend；　the　other　seeking　the　preservation　of　his　family　and　himself。　Carlos　had　the　advantage；　ultimately　he　would　risk　everything；　for；　as　Fontaine　revealed；　he　was　a　dying　man　and　he　did　not　care。　Bourne　had　everything　to　live　for；　a　middle…aged　hunter　whose　life　was　indelibly　marked；　split　in　two　by　the　death　of　a　vaguely　remembered　wife　and　children　long　ago　in　far…off　Cambodia。　It　could　not；　would　not；　happen　again！
　Jason　slid　down　off　the　coastal　wall　to　the　slanting　precipice　at　its　base。　He　crawled　forward　to　the　two　former　mandos　and　whispered；　〃They've　taken　Fontaine　inside。〃
　〃Where　is　the　guard？〃　asked　the　man　nearest　Bourne；　confusion　and　anger　in　his　whisper。　〃I　myself　placed　him　here　with　specific　instructions。　No　one　was　permitted　inside。　He　was　to　be　on　the　radio　the　instant　he　saw　anyone！〃
　〃Then　I'm　afraid　he　didn't　see　him。〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃A　blond　man　who　speaks　French。〃
　Both　mandos　whipped　their　heads　toward　each　other；　exchanging　glances　as　the　second　guard　instantly　looked　at　Jason　and　spoke　quietly。　〃Describe　him；　please；〃　he　said。
　〃Medium　height；　large　chest　and　shoulders…〃
　〃Enough；〃　interrupted　the　first　guard。　〃Our　man　saw　him；　sir。　He　is　third　provost　of　the　government　police；　an　officer　who　speaks　several　languages　and　is　chief　of　drug　investigations。〃
　〃But　why　is　he　here；　mon？〃　the　second　mando　asked　his　colleague。　〃Mr。　Saint　Jay　said　the　Crown　police　are　not　told　everything；　they　are　not　part　of　us。〃
　〃Sir　Henry；　mon。　He　has　Crown　boats；　six　or　seven；　running　back　and　forth　with　orders　to　stop　anyone　leaving　Tranquility。　They　are　drug　boats；　mon。　Sir　Henry　calls　it　a　patrol　exercise；　so　naturally　the　chief　of　investigations　must　be…〃　The　lilting　whisper　of　the　West　Indian　trailed　off　in　midsentence　as　he　looked　at　his　panion。　〃。。。　Then　why　isn't　he　out　on　the　water；　mon？　On　the　lead　boat；　mon？〃
　〃Do　you　like　him？〃　asked　Bourne　instinctively；　surprising　himself　by　his　own　question。　〃I　mean；　do　you　respect　him？　I　could　be　wrong　but　I　seem　to　sense　something…〃
　〃You　are　not　wrong；　sir；〃　answered　the　first　guard；　interrupting。　〃The　provost　is　a　cruel　man　and　he　doesn't　like　the　'Punjabis；'　as　he　calls　us。　He's　very　quick　to　accuse　us；　and　many　have　lost　work　because　of　his　rash　accusations。〃
　〃Why　don't　you　plain；　get　rid　of　him？　The　British　will　listen　to　you。〃
　〃The　Crown　governor　will　not；　sir；〃　explained　the　second　guard。　〃He's　very　partial　to　his　strict　chief　of　narcotics。　They　are　good　friends　and　often　go　out　after　the　big　fish　together。〃
　〃I　see。〃　Jason　did　see　and　was　suddenly　alarmed；　very　alarmed。　〃Saint　Jay　told　me　there　used　to　be　a　path　behind　the　chapel。　He　said　it　might　be　overgrown；　but　he　thought　it　was　still　there。〃
　〃It　is；〃　confirmed　the　first　mando。　〃The　help　still　use　it　to　go　down　to　the　water　on　their　off　times。〃
　〃How　long　is　it？〃
　〃Thirty…five；　forty　meters。　It　leads　to　an　incline　where　steps　have　been　cut　out　of　the　rocks　that　take　one　down　to　the　beach。〃
　〃Which　of　you　is　faster？〃　asked　Bourne；　reaching　into　his　pocket　and　taking　out　the　reel　of　fishing　line。
　〃I　am。〃
　〃I　am！〃
　〃I　choose　you；〃　said　Jason；　nodding　his　head　at　the　shorter　first　guard；　handing　him　the　reel。　〃Go　down　on　the　border　of　that　path　and　wherever　you　can；　string　this　line　across　it；　tying　it　to　limbs　or　trunks　or　the　strongest　branches　you　can　find。　You　mustn't　be　seen；　so　be　alert；　see　in　the　dark。〃
　〃Is　no　problem；　mon！〃
　〃Have　you　got　a　knife？〃
　〃Do　I　have　eyes？〃
　〃Good。　Give　me　your　Uzi。　Hurry！〃
　The　guard　scrambled　away　along　the　vine…tangled　precipice　and　disappeared　into　the　dense　foliage　beyond。　The　second　Royal　mando　spoke。　〃In　truth；　sir；　I　am　much　faster；　for　my　legs　are　much　longer。〃
　〃Which　is　why　I　chose　him　and　I　suspect　you　know　it。　Long　legs　are　no　advantage　here；　only　an　impediment；　which　I　happen　to　know。　Also；　he's　much　shorter　and　less　likely　to　be　spotted。〃
　〃The　smaller　ones　always　get　the　better　assignments。　They　parade　us　up　front　and　put　us　in　boxing　rings　with　rules　we　don't　understand；　but　the　small　soldiers　get　the　plumbies。〃
　〃　'Plumbies'？　The　better　jobs？〃
　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　〃The　most　dangerous　jobs？〃
　〃Yes；　mon！〃
　〃Live　with　it；　big　fella。〃
　〃What　do　we　do　now；　sir？〃
　Bourne　looked　above　at　the　wall　and　the　soft　wash　of　colored　lights。　〃It's　called　the　waiting　game…no　love　songs　implied；　only　the　hatred　that　es　from　wanting　to　live　when　others　want　to　kill　you。　There's　nothing　quite　like　it　because　you　can't　do　anything。　All　you　can　do　is　think　about　what　the　enemy　may　or　may　not　be　doing；　and　whether　he's　thought　of　something　you　haven't　considered。　As　somebody　once　said；　I'd　rather　be　in　Philadelphia。〃
　〃Where；　mon？〃
　〃Nothing。　It　isn't　true。〃
　Suddenly；　filling　the　air　above　in　chilling　horror；　came　a　prolonged　excruciating　scream；　followed　by　words　shrieked　in　pain。　〃Non；　non！　Vous　etes　monstrueux！　。。。　Arêtes；　arêtes；　je　vous　supplie！〃
　〃Now！〃　cried　Jason；　slinging　the　strap　of　his　Uzi　over　his　shoulder　as　he　leaped　onto　the　wall；　gripping　the　edge；　pulling　himself　up　as　the　blood　poured　out　of　his　neck。　He　could　not　get　up！　He　could　not　get　over！　Then　strong　hands　pulled　him　and　he　fell　over　the　top　of　the　wall。　〃The　lights！〃　he　shouted。　〃Shoot　them　out！〃
　The　tall　mando's　Uzi　blazing；　the　lines　of　floodlights　exploded　in　the　ground　on　both　sides　of　the　chapel's　path。　Again；　strong　black　hands　pulled　him　to　his　feet　in　the　new　darkness。　And　then　a　single　shaft　of　yellow　appeared；　roving　swiftly　in　all　directions；　it　was　a　powerful　halogen　flashlight　in　the　mando's　left　hand。　The　figure　of　a　blood…drenched　old　man　in　a　tan　gabardine　suit　lay　curled　up　in　the　path；　his　throat　slit。
　〃Stop！　In　the　name　of　almighty　God；　stop　where　you　are！〃　came　Fontaine's　voice　from　inside　the　chapel；　the　open　half　door　revealing　the　flickering　light　of　the　electric　candles。　They　approached　the　entrance；　automatic　weapons　leveled；　prepared　for　continuous　fire　。。。　but　not　prepared　for　what　they　saw。　Bourne　closed　his　eyes；　the　sight　was　too　painful。　Old　Fontaine；　like　young　Ishmael；　was　sprawled　over　the　lectern　on　the　raised　platform　beneath　the　blown…out；　stained…glass　windows　of　the　left　wall；　his　face　running　with　blood　where　he　had　been　slashed；　and　attached　to　his　body　were　thin　cables　that　led　to　various　black　boxes　on　both　sides　of　the　chapel。
　〃Go　back！〃　screamed　Fontaine。　〃Run；　you　fools！　I'm　wired…〃
　〃Oh；　Christ！〃
　〃Mourn　not　for　me；　Monsieur　le　Chameleon。　I　gladly　join　my　woman！　This　world　is　too　ugly　even　for　me。　It　is　no　longer　amusing。　Run！　The　charge　will　go　off…they　are　watching！〃
　〃You；　mon！　Now！〃　roared　the　second　mando；　grabbing　Jason's　jacket　and　racing　him　to　the　wall；　holding　Bourne　in　his　arms　as　they　plummeted　over　the　stone　surface　into　the　thick　foliage。
　The　explosion　was　massive；　blinding　and　deafening。　It　was　as　if　this　small　corner　of　the　small　island　had　been　taken　out　by　a　heat…seeking　nuclear　missile。　Flames　erupted　into　the　night　sky；　but　the　burning　mass　was　quickly　diffused　in　the　still　wind　to　fiery　rubble。
　〃The　path！〃　shouted　Jason；　in　a　hoarse　whisper；　as　he　crawled　to　his　feet　in　the　sloping　brush。　〃Get　to　the　path！〃
　〃You're　in　bad　condition；　mon…〃
　〃I'll　take　care　of　me；　you　take　care　of　you！〃
　〃I　believe　I've　taken　care　of　both　of　us。〃
　〃So　you've　got　a　fucking　medal　and　I'll　add　a　lot　of　money　to　it。　Now；　get　us　up　to　the　path！〃
　Pulling；　pushing；　and　finally　with　Bourne's　feet　grinding　like　a　machine　out　of　control；　the　two　men　reached　the　border　of　the　path　thirty　feet　behind　the　smoldering　ruins　of　the　chapel。　They　crept　into　the　weeds　and　within　seconds　the　first　mando　found　them。　〃They're　in　the　south　palms；〃　he　said　breathlessly。　〃They　wait　until　the　smoke　has　cleared　to　see　if　anyone　is　alive；　but　they　cannot　stay　long。〃
　〃You　were　there？〃　asked　Jason。　〃With　them？〃
　〃No　problem；　mon；　I　told　you；　sir。〃
　〃What's　happening？　How　many　are　there？〃
　〃There　were　four；　sir。　I　killed　the　man　whose　place　I　assumed。　He　was　black；　so　it　made　no　matter　in　appearance　with　the　darkness。　It　was　quick　and　silent。　The　throat。〃
　〃Who's　left？〃
　〃　'Serrat's　chief　of　narcotics；　of　course；　and　two　others…〃
　〃Describe　them！〃
　〃I　could　not　see　clearly；　but　one　I　think　was　another　black　man；　tall　and　without　much　hair。　The　third　I　could　not　see　at　all；　for　he…or　she…was　wearing　strange　clothes；　with　cloth　over　the　head　like　a　woman's　sun　hat　or　insect　veil。〃
　〃A　woman？〃
　〃It　is　possible；　sir。〃
　〃A　woman　。。。　？　They've　got　to　get　out　of　there…he's　got　to　get　out　of　there！〃
　〃Very　s