rl.thebourneultimatum-第112部分

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　〃According　to　Conklin；　there　was　an　ambush　at　a　private　airfield　in　Pontcarré。　It　was　aborted。　Your　brother…in…law　wasn't　hurt　and　neither　was　Alex。　That's　all　I　can　tell　you。〃
　〃It's　all　I　want　to　hear。〃
　〃I　spoke　to　Marie　a　little　while　ago。　She's　in　Marseilles　and　will　be　here　late　tomorrow　morning。　I'll　meet　her　myself　and　we'll　be　driven　out　to　Chesapeake。〃
　〃What　about　David？〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃My　brother…in…law？〃
　〃Oh　。。。　yes；　of　course。　He's　on　his　way　to　Moscow。〃
　〃What？〃
　The　Aeroflot　jetliner　reversed　engines　and　swung　off　the　runway　at　Moscow's　Sheremetyevo　Airport。　The　pilot　taxied　down　the　adjacent　exit　lane；　then　stopped　a　quarter　of　a　mile　from　the　terminal　as　an　announcement　was　made　in　both　Russian　and　French。
　〃There　will　be　a　five…　to　seven…minute　delay　before　disembarkation。　Please　remain　seated。〃
　No　explanation　acpanied　the　information；　and　those　passengers　on　the　flight　from　Paris　who　were　not　Soviet　citizens　returned　to　their　reading　material；　assuming　the　delay　was　caused　by　a　backup　of　departing　aircraft。　However；　those　who　were　citizens；　as　well　as　a　few　others　familiar　with　Soviet　arrival　procedures；　knew　better。　The　curtained…off　front　section　of　the　huge　Ilyushin　jet；　a　small　seating　area　that　was　reserved　for　special　unseen　passengers；　was　in　the　process　of　being　evacuated；　if　not　totally；　at　least　in　part。　The　custom　was　for　an　elevated　platform　with　a　shielded　metal　staircase　to　be　rolled　up　to　the　front　exit　door。　Several　hundred　feet　away　there　was　always　a　government　limousine；　and　while　the　backs　of　those　disembarked　special　passengers　were　briefly　in　view　on　their　way　to　the　vehicles；　flight　attendants　roamed　through　the　aircraft　making　sure　no　cameras　were　in　evidence。　There　never　were。　These　travelers　were　the　property　of　the　KGB；　and　for　reasons　known　only　to　the　Komitet；　they　were　not　to　be　observed　in　Sheremetyevo's　international　terminal。　It　was　the　case　this　late　afternoon　on　the　outskirts　of　Moscow。
　Alex　Conklin　limped　out　of　the　shielded　staircase　followed　by　Bourne；　who　carried　the　two　outsized　flight　bags　that　served　as　their　minimum　luggage。　Dimitri　Krupkin　emerged　from　the　limousine　and　hurried　toward　them　as　the　steps　were　rolled　away　from　the　aircraft　and　the　noise　of　the　huge　jet　engines　began　growing　in　volume。
　〃How　is　your　friend　the　doctor？〃　asked　the　Soviet　intelligence　officer；　shouting　to　be　heard　over　the　roar。
　〃Holding　his　own！〃　yelled　Alex。　〃He　may　not　make　it；　but　he's　fighting　like　hell！〃
　〃It's　your　own　fault；　Aleksei！〃　The　jet　rolled　away　and　Krupkin　lowered　his　voice　accordingly；　still　loud　but　not　shouting。　〃You　should　have　called　Sergei　at　the　embassy。　His　unit　was　prepared　to　escort　you　wherever　you　wished　to　go。〃
　〃Actually；　we　thought　that　if　we　did；　we'd　be　sending　out　an　alert。〃
　〃Better　a　prohibiting　alert　than　inviting　an　assault！〃　countered　the　Russian。　〃Carlos's　men　would　never　have　dared　to　attack　you　under　our　protection。〃
　〃It　wasn't　the　Jackal…the　Jackal；〃　said　Conklin；　abruptly　resuming　a　conversational　tone　as　the　roar　of　the　aircraft　became　a　hum　in　the　distance。
　〃Of　course　it　wasn't　him…he's　here。　It　was　his　goons　following　orders。〃
　〃Not　his　goons；　not　his　orders。〃
　〃What　are　you　talking　about？〃
　〃We'll　go　into　it　later。　Let's　get　out　of　here。〃
　〃Wait。〃　Krupkin　arched　his　brows。　〃We'll　talk　first…and　first；　wele　to　Mother　Russia。　Second；　it　would　be　most　appreciated　if　you　would　refrain　from　discussing　certain　aspects　of　my　life…style　while　in　the　service　of　my　government　in　the　hostile；　war…mongering　West　with　anyone　you　might　meet。〃
　〃You　know；　Kruppie；　one　of　these　days　they'll　catch　up　with　you。〃
　〃Never。　They　adore　me；　for　I　feed　the　Komitet　more　useful　gossip　about　the　upper　ranks　of　the　debauched；　so…called　free　world　than　any　other　officer　in　a　foreign　post。　I　also　entertain　my　superiors　in　that　same　debauched　world　far　better　than　any　other　officer　anywhere。　Now；　if　we　corner　the　Jackal　here　in　Moscow；　I'll　no　doubt　be　made　a　member　of　the　Politburo；　hero　status。〃
　〃Then　you　can　really　steal。〃
　〃Why　not？　They　all　do。〃
　〃If　you　don't　mind；〃　interrupted　Bourne　curtly；　lowering　the　two　flight　bags　to　the　ground。　〃What's　happened？　Have　you　made　any　progress　in　Dzerzhinsky　Square？〃
　〃It's　not　inconsiderable　for　less　than　thirty　hours。　We've　narrowed　down　Carlos's　mole　to　thirteen　possibles；　all　of　whom　speak　French　fluently。　They're　under　total　surveillance；　human　and　electronic；　we　know　exactly　where　they　are　every　minute；　also　who　they　meet　and　who　they　talk　to　over　the　telephone。　。。。　I'm　working　with　two　ranking　missars；　neither　of　whom　can　remotely　speak　French…they　can't　even　speak　literate　Russian；　but　that's　the　way　it　is　sometimes。　The　point　is　they're　both　failsafe　and　dedicated；　they'd　rather　be　instrumental　in　capturing　the　Jackal　than　re…fight　the　Nazi。　They've　been　very　cooperative　in　mounting　surveillance。〃
　〃Your　surveillance　is　rotten　and　you　know　it；〃　said　Alex。　〃They　fall　over　toilet　seats　in　the　women's　room　when　they're　chasing　a　guy。〃
　〃Not　this　time；　for　I　chose　them　myself；〃　insisted　Krupkin。　〃Outside　of　four　of　our　own　people；　each　trained　in　Novgorod；　they're　defectors　from　the　UK；　America；　France　and　South　Africa…all　with　intelligence　backgrounds　who　could　lose　their　dachas　if　they　screw　up；　as　you　Westerners　say。　I　really　would　like　to　be　appointed　to　the　Presidium；　perhaps　even　the　Central　mittee。　I　might　be　posted　to　Washington　or　New　York。〃
　〃Where　you　could　really　steal；〃　said　Conklin。
　〃You're　wicked；　Aleksei；　very；　very　wicked。　Still；　after　a　vodka　or　six；　remind　me　to　tell　you　about　some　real　estate　our　chargé　d'affaires　picked　up　in　Virginia　two　years　ago。　For　a　song；　and　financed　by　his　lover's　bank　in　Richmond。　Now　a　developer　wants　the　property　at　ten　times　the　price！　。。。　e；　the　car。〃
　〃I　don't　believe　this　conversation；〃　said　Bourne；　picking　up　the　flight　bags。
　〃Wele　to　the　real　world　of　high…tech　intelligence；〃　explained　Conklin；　laughing　quietly。　〃At　least　from　one　point　of　view。〃
　〃From　all　points　of　view；〃　continued　Krupkin　as　they　started　toward　the　limousine。　〃However；　we　will　dispense　with　this　conversation　while　riding　in　an　official　vehicle；　won't　we；　gentlemen？　Incidentally；　you　have　a　two…bedroom　suite　at　the　Metropole　on　the　Marx　Prospekt。　It's　convenient　and　I've　personally　shut　down　all　listening　devices。〃
　〃I　can　understand　why；　but　how　did　you　manage　it？〃
　〃Embarrassment；　as　you　well　know；　is　the　Komitet's　greatest　enemy。　I　explained　to　internal　security　that　what　might　be　recorded　could　prove　most　embarrassing　to　the　wrong　people；　who　would　undoubtedly　transfer　any　who　overheard　the　tapes　to　Kamchatka。〃　They　reached　the　car；　the　left　rear　door　opened　by　a　driver　in　a　dark　brown　business　suit　identical　with　the　one　worn　by　Sergei　in　Paris。　〃The　fabric's　the　same；〃　said　Krupkin　in　French；　noting　his　panions'　reaction　to　the　similar　apparel。　〃Unfortunately　the　tailoring　is　not。　I　insisted　Sergei　have　his　refitted　in　the　Faubourg。〃
　The　Hotel　Metropole　is　a　renovated；　prerevolutionary　structure　built　in　the　ornate　style　of　architecture　favored　by　the　czar　who　had　visited　fin…de…siècle　Vienna　and　Paris。　The　ceilings　are　high；　the　marble　profuse；　and　the　occasional　tapestries　priceless。　Intrinsic　to　the　elaborate　lobby　is　a　defiance　aimed　at　a　government　that　would　permit　so　many　shabby　citizens　to　invade　the　premises。　The　majestic　walls　and　the　glittering；　filigreed　chandeliers　seem　to　stare　at　the　unworthy　trespassers　with　disdain。　These　impressions；　however；　did　not　apply　to　Dimitri　Krupkin；　whose　baronial　figure　was　very　much　at　ease　and　at　home　in　the　surroundings。
　〃rade！〃　cried　the　manager　sotto　voce　as　the　KGB　officer　acpanied　his　guests　to　the　elevators。　〃There　is　an　urgent　message　for　you；〃　he　continued；　walking　rapidly　up　to　Dimitri　and　thrusting　a　folded　note　into　Krupkin's　hand。　〃I　was　told　to　deliver　it　to　you　personally。〃
　〃You　have　done　so　and　I　thank　you。〃　Dimitri　watched　the　man　walk　away；　then　opened　the　paper　as　Bourne　and　Conklin　stood　behind　him。　〃I　must　reach　Dzerzhinsky　immediately；〃　he　said；　turning。　〃It's　the　extension　of　my　second　missar。　e；　let　us　hurry。〃
　The　suite；　like　the　lobby；　belonged　to　another　time；　another　era；　indeed　another　country；　marred　only　by　the　faded　fabrics　and　the　less　than　perfect　restoration　of　the　original　moldings。　These　imperfections　served　to　accentuate　the　distance　between　the　past　and　the　present。　The　doors　of　the　two　bedrooms　were　opposite　each　other；　the　space　between　a　large　sitting　room　plete　with　a　copper　dry　bar　and　several　bottles　of　spirits　rarely　seen　on　Moscow　shelves。
　〃Help　yourselves；〃　said　Krupkin；　heading　for　a　telephone　on　an　ersatz　antique　desk　that　appeared　to　be　a　cross　between　Queen　Anne　and　a　later　Louis。　〃Oh；　I　forgot；　Aleksei；　I'll　order　some　tea　or　spring　water…〃
　〃Forget　it；〃　said　Conklin；　taking　his　flight　bag　from　Jason　and　heading　into　the　left　bedroom。　〃I'm　going　to　wash　up；　that　plane　was　filthy。〃
　〃I　trust　you　found　the　fare　agreeable；〃　responded　Krupkin；　raising　his　voice　and　dialing。　〃Incidentally；　you　ingrate；　you'll　find　your　weapons　in　your　bedside　table　drawers。　Each　is　a　。38　caliber　Graz　Burya　automatic。　。。。　e；　Mr。　Bourne；〃　he　added。　〃You're　not　abstemious　and　it　was　a　long　trip…this　may　be　a　long　conversation。　My　missar　number　two　is　a　windy　fellow。〃
　〃I　think　I　will；〃　said　Jason；　dropping　his　bag　by　the　door　to　the　other　bedroom。　He　crossed　to　the　bar　and　chose　a　familiar　bottle；　pouring　himself　a　drink　as　Krupkin　began　talking　in　Russian。　It　was　not　a　language　he　understood；　so　Bourne　walked　to　a　pair　of　tall　cathedral　windows　overlooking　the　wide　avenue　known　as　the　Marx　Prospekt。
　〃Dobryi　dyen。　Da；　da　pochemu？　。。。　Sadovaya　togda。　Dvadtsat　minus。〃　Krupkin　shook　his　head　in　weary　irritation　as　he　hung　up　the　telephone。　The　movement　caused　Jason　to　turn　toward　the　Soviet。　〃My　second　missar　was　not　talkative　on　this　occasion；　Mr。　Bourne。　Haste　and　orders　took　precedent。〃
　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　〃We　must　leave　immediately。〃　Krupkin　glanced　at　the　bedroom　to　the　left　and　raised　his　voice。　〃Aleksei；　e　out　here！　Quickly！　。。。　I　tried　to　tell　him　that　you'd　just　this　second　arrived；〃　continued　the　KGB　man；　turning　back