rl.thebourneultimatum-第113部分

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。。　I　tried　to　tell　him　that　you'd　just　this　second　arrived；〃　continued　the　KGB　man；　turning　back　to　Jason；　〃but　he　was　having　none　of　it。　Leven　went　so　far　as　to　say　that　one　of　you　was　already　taking　a　shower；　and　his　only　ment　was　'Tell　him　to　get　out　and　get　dressed。'　〃　Conklin　limped　through　the　bedroom　door；　his　shirt　unbuttoned　and　blotting　his　wet　face　with　a　towel。　〃Sorry；　Aleksei；　we　must　go。〃
　〃Go　where？　We　just　got　here。〃
　〃We've　appropriated　a　flat　on　the　Sadovaya…that's　Moscow's　'Grand　Boulevard；'　Mr。　Bourne。　It's　not　the　Champs…Elysées；　but　neither　is　it　inconsequential。　The　czars　knew　how　to　build。〃
　〃What's　over　there？〃　pressed　Conklin。
　〃missar　number　one；〃　replied　Krupkin。　〃We'll　be　using　it　as　our；　shall　we　say；　our　headquarters。　A　smaller　and　rather　delightful　annex　of　Dzerzhinsky　Square…only　nobody　knows　about　it　but　the　five　of　us。　Something's　e　up　and　we're　to　go　there　immediately。〃
　〃That's　good　enough　for　me；〃　said　Jason；　putting　his　drink　down　on　the　copper　dry　bar。
　〃Finish　it；〃　said　Alex；　rushing　awkwardly　back　into　the　bedroom。　〃I've　got　to　get　the　soap　out　of　my　eyes　and　rest　rap　my　lousy　boot。〃
　Bourne　picked　up　the　glass；　his　eyes　straying　to　the　Soviet　field　officer　who　looked　after　Conklin；　his　brow　lined；　his　expression　curiously　sad。　〃You　knew　him　before　he　lost　his　foot；　didn't　you？〃　asked　Jason　quietly。
　〃Oh；　yes；　Mr。　Bourne。　We　go　back　twenty…five；　twenty…six　years。　Istanbul；　Athens；　Rome　。。。　Amsterdam。　He　was　a　remarkable　adversary。　Of　course；　we　were　young　then；　both　slender　and　quick　and　so　taken　with　ourselves；　wanting　so　desperately　to　live　up　to　the　images　we　envisioned　for　ourselves。　It　was　all　so　long　ago。　We　were　both　terribly　good；　you　know。　He　was　actually　better　than　me；　but　don't　you　ever　tell　him　I　said　so。　He　always　saw　the　broader　picture；　the　longer　road　than　I　saw。　It　was　the　Russian　in　him；　of　course。〃
　〃Why　do　you　use　the　word　'adversary'？〃　asked　Jason。　〃It's　so　athletic；　as　if　you'd　been　playing　a　game。　Wasn't　he　your　enemy？〃
　Krupkin's　large　head　snapped　toward　Bourne；　his　eyes　glass；　not　warm　at　all。　〃Of　course　he　was　my　enemy；　Mr。　Bourne；　and　to　clarify　the　picture　for　you；　he　still　is　my　enemy。　Don't；　I　beg　you；　mistake　my　indulgences　for　what　they　are　not。　A　man's　weaknesses　may　intrude　on　his　faith　but　they　do　not　diminish　it。　I　may　not　have　the　convenience　of　the　Roman　confession　to　expiate　my　sins　so　as　to　go　forth　and　sin　again　despite　my　belief；　but　I　do　believe。　。。。　My　grandfathers　and　grandmothers　were　hanged…hanged；　sir…for　stealing　chickens　from　a　Romanov　prince's　estate。　Few；　if　any；　of　my　ancestors　were　ever　given　the　privilege　of　the　most　rudimentary　schooling；　forget　education。　The　Supreme　Soviet　revolution　of　Karl　Marx　and　Vladimir　Lenin　made　possible　the　beginning　of　all　things。　Thousands　upon　thousands　of　mistakes　have　been　made…many　inexcusable；　many　more　brutal…but　a　beginning　was　made。　I；　myself；　am　both　the　proof　and　the　error　of　it。〃
　〃I'm　not　sure　I　understand　that。〃
　〃Because　you　and　your　feeble　intellectuals　have　never　understood　what　we　have　understood　from　the　start。　Das　Kapital；　Mr。　Bourne；　envisages　stages　toward　a　just　society；　economic　and　political；　but　it　does　not　and　never　did　state　what　specific　form　the　nuts…and…bolts　government　will　ultimately　be。　Only　that　it　could　not　be　as　it　was。〃
　〃I'm　not　a　scholar　in　that　department。〃
　〃One　does　not　have　to　be。　In　a　hundred　years　you　may　be　the　socialists；　and　with　luck；　we'll　be　the　capitalists；　da？〃
　〃Tell　me　something；〃　said　Jason；　hearing；　as　Krupkin　also　did；　the　water　faucets　in　Conklin's　room　being　turned　off。　〃Could　you　kill　Alex…Aleksei？〃
　〃As　surely　as　he　could　kill　me…with　deep　regrets…if　the　value　of　the　information　called　for　it。　We　are　professionals。　We　understand　that；　often　reluctantly。〃
　〃I　can't　understand　either　one　of　you。〃
　〃Don't　even　try；　Mr。　Bourne；　you're　not　there　yet…you're　getting　closer；　but　you're　not　there。〃
　〃Would　you　explain　that；　please？〃
　〃You're　at　the　cusp；　Jason…may　I　call　you　Jason？〃
　〃Please　do。〃
　〃You're　fifty　years　of　age　or　thereabouts；　give　or　take　a　year　or　two；　correct？〃
　〃Correct。　I'll　be　fifty…one　in　a　few　months。　So　what？〃
　〃Aleksei　and　I　are　in　our　sixties…have　you　any　idea　what　a　leap　that　is？〃
　〃How　could　I？〃
　〃Let　me　tell　you。　You　still　visualize　yourself　as　the　younger　man；　the　postadolescent　man　who　sees　himself　doing　the　things　you　did　only　moments　ago　in　your　mind；　and　in　many　ways　you　are　right。　The　motor　controls　are　there；　the　will　is　there；　you　are　still　the　master　of　your　body。　Then　suddenly；　as　strong　as　the　will　is　and　as　strong　as　the　body　remains；　the　mind　slowly；　insidiously　begins　to　reject　the　necessity　to　make　an　immediate　decision…both　intellectually　and　physically。　Simply　put；　we　care　less。　Are　we　to　be　condemned　or　congratulated　on　having　survived？〃
　〃I　think　you　just　said　you　couldn't　kill　Alex。〃
　〃Don't　count　on　it；　Jason　Bourne…or　David　whoever　you　are。〃
　Conklin　came　through　the　door；　his　limp　pronounced；　wincing　in　pain。　〃Let's　go；〃　he　said。
　〃Did　you　strap　it　wrong　again？〃　asked　Jason。　〃Do　you　want　me　to…〃
　〃Forget　it；〃　broke　in　Alex　irritably。　〃You　have　to　be　a　contortionist　to　get　the　goddamned　thing　right　all　the　time。〃
　Bourne　understood；　he　forgot　about　any　attempt　on　his　part　to　adjust　the　prosthesis。　Krupkin　again　looked　at　Alex　with　that　strange　admixture　of　sadness　and　curiosity；　then　spoke　rapidly。　〃The　car　is　parked　up　the　street　in　the　Sverdlov。　It's　less　obvious　over　there；　I'll　have　a　lobby　steward　fetch　it。〃
　〃Thanks；〃　said　Conklin；　gratitude　in　his　glance。
　The　opulent　apartment　on　the　busy　Sadovaya　was　one　among　many　in　an　aged　stone　building　that；　like　the　Metropole；　reflected　the　grand　architectural　excesses　of　the　old　Russian　Empire。　The　flats　were　primarily　used…and　bugged…for　visiting　dignitaries；　and　the　chambermaids；　doormen　and　concierges　were　all　frequently　questioned　by　the　KGB　when　not　directly　employed　by　the　Komitet。　The　walls　were　covered　with　red　velour；　the　sturdy　furniture　was　reminiscent　of　the　ancien　régime。　However；　to　the　right　of　the　gargantuan　ornate　living…room　fireplace　was　an　item　that　stood　out　like　a　decorator's　nightmare：　a　large　jet…black　television　console　plete　with　an　assortment　of　tape　decks　patible　with　the　various　sizes　of　video　cassettes。
　The　second　contradiction　to　the　decor；　and　undoubtedly　an　affront　to　the　memory　of　the　elegant　Romanovs；　was　a　heavyset　man　in　a　rumpled　uniform；　open　at　the　neck　and　stained　with　vestiges　of　recent　meals。　His　blunt　face　was　full；　his　grayish　hair　cut　close　to　his　skull；　and　a　missing　tooth　surrounded　by　discolored　panions　bespoke　an　aversion　to　dentistry。　It　was　the　face　of　a　peasant；　the　narrow；　perpetually　squinting　eyes　conveying　a　peasant's　shrewd　intelligence。　He　was　Krupkin's　missar　Number　One。
　〃My　English　not　good；〃　announced　the　uniformed　man；　nodding　at　his　visitors；　〃but　is　understanding。　Also；　for　you　I　have　no　name；　no　official　position。　Call　me　colonel；　yes？　It　is　below　my　rank；　but　all　Americans　think　all　Soviets　in　Komitet　are　'colonel；'　da？　Okay？〃
　〃I　speak　Russian；〃　replied　Alex。　〃If　it's　easier　for　you；　use　it；　and　I'll　translate　for　my　colleague。〃
　〃Hah！〃　roared　the　colonel；　laughing。　〃So　Krupkin　cannot　fool　you；　yes？〃
　〃Yes；　he　can't　fool　me；　no。〃
　〃Is　good。　He　talks　too　fast；　da？　Even　in　Russian　his　words　e　like　stray　bullets。〃
　〃In　French；　also；　Colonel。〃
　〃Speaking　of　which；〃　intruded　Dimitri；　〃may　we　get　to　the　issue　at　hand；　rade？　Our　associate　in　the　Dzerzhinsky　said　we　were　to　e　over　immediately。〃
　〃Da！　Immediate。〃　The　KGB　officer　walked　to　the　huge　ebony　console；　picked　up　a　remote　control；　and　turned　to　the　others。　〃I　will　speak　English…is　good　practice。　。。。　e。　Watch。　Everything　is　on　one　cartridge。　All　material　taken　by　men　and　women　Krupkin　select　to　follow　our　people　who　speak　the　French。〃
　〃People　who　could　not　be　promised　by　the　Jackal；〃　clarified　Krupkin。
　〃Watch！〃　insisted　the　peasant…colonel；　pressing　a　button　on　the　remote　control。
　The　screen　came　alive　on　the　console；　the　opening　shots　crude　and　choppy。　Most　had　been　taken　with　hand…held　video　cameras　from　car　windows。　One　scene　after　another　showed　specific　men　walking　in　the　Moscow　streets　or　getting　into　official　vehicles；　driving　or　being　driven　throughout　the　city　and；　in　several　cases；　outside　the　city　over　country　roads。　In　every　case　the　subjects　under　surveillance　met　with　other　men　and　women；　whereupon　the　zoom　lenses　enlarged　the　faces。　A　number　of　shots　took　place　inside　buildings；　the　scenes　murky　and　dark；　the　result　of　insufficient　light　and　awkwardly　held　concealed　cameras。
　〃That　one　is　expensive　whore！〃　laughed　the　colonel　as　a　man　in　his　late　sixties　escorted　a　much　younger　woman　into　an　elevator。　〃It　is　the　Solnechy　Hotel　on　the　Varshavkoye。　I　will　personally　check　the　general's　vouchers　and　find　a　loyal　ally；　da？〃
　The　choppy；　cross…cutting　tape　continued　as　Krupkin　and　the　two　Americans　grew　weary　of　the　seemingly　endless　and　pointless　visual　record。　Then；　suddenly；　there　was　an　exterior　shot　of　a　huge　cathedral；　crowds　on　the　pavement；　the　light　indicating　early　evening。
　〃St。　Basil's　Cathedral　in　Red　Square；〃　said　Krupkin。　〃It's　a　museum　now　and　a　very　fine　one；　but　every　now　and　then　a　zealot…usually　foreign…holds　a　small　service。　No　one　interferes；　which；　of　course；　the　zealots　want　us　to　do。〃
　The　screen　became　murky　again；　the　vibrating　focus　briefly　and　wildly　swaying；　the　camcorder　had　moved　inside　the　cathedral　as　the　agent　operating　it　was　jostled　by　the　crowds。　Then　it　became　steady；　held　perhaps　against　a　pillar。　The　focus　now　was　on　an　elderly　man；　his　hair　white　in　contrast　to　the　lightweight　black　raincoat　he　was　wearing。　He　was　walking　down　a　side　aisle　pensively　glancing　at　the　succession　of　icons　and　the　higher　majestic　stained…glass　windows。
　〃Rodchenko；〃　said　the　peasant…colonel；　his　voice　guttural。　〃The　great　Rodchenko。〃
　The　man　on　the　screen　proceeded　into　what　appeared　to　be　a　large　stone　corner　of　the　cathedral　where　two　thick　pedestaled　candles　threw　moving　shadows　against　the　walls。　The　video　camera　jerkily　moved　upward；　the　agent；　again　perhaps；　standing　on　a　portable　stool　or　a　hastily　obtai