rl.thebourneultimatum-第119部分

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ve　to　prosecute　myself；　and　I'm　far　too　good　at　my　job。〃
　〃The　money！〃　shrieked　the　Jackal。　〃I've　sent　you　all　thousands！〃
　〃Where　is　it　recorded？〃　asked　the　lawyer　with　an　air　of　innocence。　〃You；　yourself；　made　sure　it　was　untraceable。　Paper　bags　in　our　mail　slots；　or　in　our　office　drawers…notes　attached　instructing　us　to　burn　them。　Who　among　our　citizens　would　admit　to　having　placed　them　there？　That　way　lies　the　Lubyanka。　。。。　Good…bye；　rade　Monseigneur；〃　said　the　attorney　for　the　Ministry　of　Legal　Procedures；　scraping　his　chair　in　place　and　starting　for　the　door。
　One　by　one；　as　they　had　arrived；　the　assembled　group　followed　the　lawyer；　each　looking　back　at　the　strange　man　who　had　so　exotically；　so　briefly；　interrupted　their　tedious　lives；　all　knowing　instinctively　that　in　his　path　were　disgrace　and　execution。　Death。
　Yet　none　was　prepared　for　what　followed。　The　killer　in　priest's　clothing　suddenly　snapped；　visceral　bolts　of　lightning　electrified　his　madness。　His　dark　eyes　burned　with　a　raging　fire　that　could　be　extinguished　only　by　soul…satisfying　violence…relentless；　brutal；　savage　vengeance　for　all　the　wrongs　done　to　his　pure　purpose　to　kill　the　unbelievers！　The　Jackal　swept　away　the　dossiers　from　the　table　and　lurched　down　to　the　pile　of　newspapers；　he　grabbed　the　deadly　automatic　weapon　from　beneath　the　scattered　pages　and　roared；　〃Stop！　All　of　you！〃
　None　did；　and　the　outer　regions　of　psychopathic　energy　became　the　order　of　the　moment。　The　killer　squeezed　the　trigger　repeatedly　and　men　and　women　died。　Amid　screams　from　the　shattered　bodies　nearest　the　door；　the　assassin　raced　outside；　leaping　over　the　corpses；　his　assault　rifle　on　automatic　fire；　cutting　down　the　figures　in　the　street；　screaming　curses；　condemning　the　unbelievers　to　a　hell　only　he　could　imagine。
　〃Traitors！　Filth！　Garbage！〃　screamed　the　crazed　Jackal　as　he　leaped　over　the　dead　bodies；　racing　to　the　car　he　had　mandeered　from　the　Komitet　and　its　inadequate　surveillance　unit。　The　night　had　ended；　the　morning　had　begun。
　The　Metropole's　telephone　did　not　ring；　it　erupted。　Startled；　Alex　Conklin　snapped　open　his　eyes；　instantly　shaking　the　sleep　from　his　head　as　he　clawed　for　the　strident　instrument　on　the　bedside　table。　〃Yes？〃　he　announced；　wondering　briefly　if　he　was　speaking　into　the　conically　shaped　mouthpiece　or　into　the　receiver。
　〃Aleksei；　stay　put！　Admit　no　one　into　your　rooms　and　have　your　weapons　ready！〃
　〃Krupkin？　。。。　What　the　hell　are　you　talking　about。〃
　〃A　crazed　dog　is　loose　in　Moscow。〃
　〃Carlos？〃
　〃He's　gone　pletely　mad。　He　killed　Rodchenko　and　butchered　the　two　agents　who　were　following　him。　A　farmer　found　their　bodies　around　four　o'clock　this　morning…it　seems　the　dogs　woke　him　up　with　their　barking；　downwind　of　the　blood　scents；　I　imagine。〃
　〃Christ；　he's　gone　over　the　edge。　。。。　But　why　do　you　think…〃
　〃One　of　our　agents　was　tortured　before　being　killed；〃　broke　in　the　KGB　officer；　fully　anticipating　Alex's　question。　〃He　was　our　driver　from　the　airport；　a　protégé　of　mine　and　the　son　of　a　classmate　I　roomed　with　at　the　university。　A　fine　young　man　from　a　rational　family　but　not　trained　for　what　he　was　put　through。〃
　〃You're　saying　you　think　he　may　have　told　Carlos　about　us；　aren't　you？〃
　〃Yes。　。。。　There's　more；　however。　Approximately　an　hour　ago　in　the　Vavilova；　eight　people　were　cut　down　by　automatic　fire。　They　were　slaughtered；　it　was　a　massacre。　One　of　the　dying；　a　woman　with　the　Ministry　of　Information；　a　direktor；　second　class；　and　a　television　journalist；　said　the　killer　was　a　priest　from　Paris　who　called　himself　the　'monseigneur。'　〃
　〃Jesus！〃　exploded　Conklin；　whipping　his　legs　over　the　edge　of　the　bed；　absently　staring　at　the　stump　of　flesh　where　once　there　had　been　a　foot。　〃It　was　his　cadre。〃
　〃So　called　and　past　tense；〃　said　Krupkin。　〃If　you　remember；　I　told　you　such　recruits　would　abandon　him　at　the　first　sign　of　peril。〃
　〃I'll　get　Jason…〃
　〃Aleksei；　listen　to　me！〃
　〃What？〃　Conklin　cupped　the　telephone　under　his　chin　as　he　reached　down　for　the　hollowed…out　prosthetic　boot。
　〃We've　formed　a　tactical　assault　squad；　men　and　women　in　civilian　clothes…they're　being　given　instructions　now　and　will　be　there　shortly。〃
　〃Good　move。〃
　〃But　we　have　purposely　not　alerted　the　hotel　staff　or　the　police。〃
　〃You'd　be　idiots　if　you　did；〃　broke　in　Alex。　〃We'll　settle　for　taking　the　son　of　a　bitch　here！　We'd　never　do　it　with　uniforms　prowling　around　or　clerks　in　hysterics。　The　Jackal　has　eyes　in　his　kneecaps。〃
　〃Do　as　I　say；〃　ordered　the　Soviet。　〃Admit　no　one；　stay　away　from　the　windows　and　take　all　precautions。〃
　〃Naturally。　。。。　What　do　you　mean；　the　windows？　He'll　need　time　to　find　out　where　we　are　。。。　to　question　the　maids；　the　stewards。〃
　〃Forgive　me；　old　friend；〃　interrupted　Krupkin；　〃but　an　angelic　priest　inquiring　at　the　desk　about　two　Americans；　one　with　a　pronounced　limp；　during　the　early　morning　rush　in　the　lobby？〃
　〃Good　point；　even　if　you're　paranoid。〃
　〃You're　on　a　high　floor；　and　directly　across　the　Marx　Prospekt　is　the　roof　of　an　office　building。〃
　〃You　also　think　pretty　fast。〃
　〃Certainly　faster　than　that　fool　in　Dzerzhinsky。　I　would　have　reached　you　long　before　now；　but　my　missar　Kartoshki　over　there　didn't　call　me　until　two　minutes　ago。〃
　〃I'll　wake　up　Bourne。〃
　〃Be　careful。〃
　Conklin　did　not　hear　the　Soviet's　final　admonition。　Instead；　he　swiftly　replaced　the　telephone　and　pulled　on　his　boot；　carelessly　lashing　the　Velcro　straps　around　his　calf。　He　then　opened　the　bedside　table　drawer　and　took　out　the　Graz　Burya　automatic；　a　specially　designed　KGB　weapon　with　three　clips　of　ammunition。　The　Graz；　as　it　was　monly　known；　was　unique　insofar　as　it　was　the　only　automatic　known　that　would　accept　a　silencer。　The　cylindrical　instrument　had　rolled　to　the　front　of　the　drawer；　he　removed　it　and　spun　it　into　the　short　barrel。　Unsteadily；　he　got　into　his　trousers；　shoved　the　weapon　into　his　belt　and　crossed　to　the　door。　He　opened　it　and　limped　out　only　to　find　Jason；　fully　dressed；　standing　in　front　of　a　window　in　the　ornate　Victorian　sitting　room。
　〃That　had　to　be　Krupkin；〃　said　Bourne。
　〃It　was。　Get　away　from　the　window。〃
　〃Carlos？〃　Bourne　instantly　stepped　back　and　turned　to　Alex。　〃He　knows　we're　in　Moscow？〃　he　asked。　Then　added；　〃He　knows　where　we　are？〃
　〃The　odds　are　yes　to　both　questions。〃　In　short　concise　statements；　Conklin　related　Krupkin's　information。　〃Does　all　this　tell　you　something？〃　asked　Alex　when　he　had　finished。
　〃He's　blown　apart；〃　answered　Jason　quietly。　〃It　had　to　happen。　The　time　bomb　in　his　head　finally　went　off。〃
　〃That's　what　I　think。　His　Moscow　cadre　turned　out　to　be　a　myth。　They　probably　told　him　to　pound　sand　and　he　exploded。〃
　〃I　regret　the　loss　of　life　and　I　mean　that；〃　said　Bourne。　〃I　wish　it　could　have　happened　another　way；　but　I　can't　regret　his　state　of　mind。　What's　happened　to　him　is　what　he　wanted　for　me…to　crack　wide　open。〃
　〃Kruppie　said　it；〃　added　Conklin。　〃He's　got　a　psychopathic　death　wish　to　return　to　the　people　who　first　found　out　he　was　a　maniac。　Now；　if　he　knows　you're　here；　and　we　have　to　assume　that　he　does；　the　obsession's　pounded；　your　death　replacing　his…giving　him　some　kind　of　symbolic　triumph　maybe。〃
　〃You've　been　talking　to　Panov　too　much。　。。。　I　wonder　how　Mo　is。〃
　〃Don't。　I　called　the　hospital　at　three　o'clock　this　morning…five　o'clock；　Paris　time。　He　may　lose　the　use　of　his　left　arm　and　suffer　partial　paralysis　of　his　right　leg；　but　they　think　he'll　make　it　now。〃
　〃I　don't　give　a　goddamn　about　his　arms　or　his　legs。　What　about　his　head？〃
　〃Apparently　it's　intact。　The　chief　nurse　on　the　floor　said　that　for　a　doctor　he's　a　terrible　patient。〃
　〃Thank　Christ！〃
　〃I　thought　you　were　an　agnostic。〃
　〃It's　a　symbolic　phrase；　check　with　Mo。〃　Bourne　noticed　the　gun　in　Alex's　belt；　he　gestured　at　the　weapon。　〃That's　a　little　obvious；　isn't　it？〃
　〃For　whom？〃
　〃Room　service；〃　replied　Jason。　〃I　phoned　for　whatever　gruel　they've　got　and　a　large　pot　of　coffee。〃
　〃No　way。　Krupkin　said　we　don't　let　anyone　in　here　and　I　gave　him　my　word。〃
　〃That's　a　crock　of　paranoia…〃
　〃Almost　my　words；　but　this　is　his　turf；　not　ours。　Just　like　the　windows。〃
　〃Wait　a　minute！〃　exclaimed　Bourne。　〃Suppose　he　is　right？〃
　〃Unlikely；　but　possible；　except　that…〃　Conklin　could　not　finish　his　statement。　Jason　reached　under　the　right　rear　flap　of　his　jacket；　yanked　out　his　own　Graz　Burya　and　started　for　the　hallway　door　of　the　suite。　〃What　are　you　doing？〃　cried　Alex。
　〃Probably　giving　your　friend　'Kruppie'　more　credit　than　he　deserves；　but　it's　worth　a　try。　。。。　Get　over　there；〃　ordered　Bourne；　pointing　to　the　far　left　corner　of　the　room。　〃I'll　leave　the　door　unlocked；　and　when　the　steward　gets　here；　tell　him　to　e　in…in　Russian。〃
　〃What　about　you？〃
　〃There's　an　ice　machine　down　the　hall；　it　doesn't　work；　but　it's　in　a　cubicle　along　with　a　Pepsi　machine。　That　doesn't　work　either；　but　I'll　slip　inside。〃
　〃Thank　God　for　capitalists；　no　matter　how　misguided。　Go　on！〃
　The　Medusan　once　known　as　Delta　unlatched　the　door；　opened　it；　glanced　up　and　down　the　Metropole's　corridor　and　rushed　outside。　He　raced　down　the　hallway　to　the　cut…out　alcove　that　housed　the　two　convenience　machines　and　crouched　by　the　right　interior　wall。　He　waited；　his　knees　and　legs　aching…pains　he　never　felt　only　years　ago…and　then　he　heard　the　sounds　of　rolling　wheels。　They　grew　louder　and　louder　as　the　cart　draped　with　a　tablecloth　passed　and　proceeded　to　the　door　of　the　suite。　He　studied　the　floor　steward；　he　was　a　young　man　in　his　twenties；　blond；　short　of　stature；　and　with　the　posture　of　an　obsequious　servant；　cautiously　he　knocked　on　the　door。　No　Carlos　he；　thought　Bourne；　getting　painfully　to　his　feet。　He　could　hear　Conklin's　muffled　voice　telling　the　steward　to　enter；　and　as　the　young　man　opened　the　door；　shoving　the　table　inside；　Jason　calmly　inserted　his　weapon　into　its　concealed　place。　He　bent　over　and　massaged　his　right　calf；　he　could　feel　the　swelling　cluster　of　a　muscle　cramp。
　It　happened　with　the　impact　of　a　single　furious　wave　against　a　shoal　of　rock。　A　figure　in　black　lurched　out　of　an　unseen　recess　in　the　corridor；　racing　past　the　machines。　Bourne　spun　back　into　the　wall。　It　was　the　Jackal！
　
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　Madness！　At　full　force　Carlos　slammed　his