rl.thebourneultimatum-第131部分

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t　of　yours？〃
　〃Quite　simply；〃　replied　the　Jackal；　turning；　a　gun　in　his　hand；　the　silencer　intact。　〃We　have　to　change　places。〃
　〃What？〃
　〃I'm　going　to　burn　Novgorod。〃　Carlos　fired　a　single　shot　into　the　upper　throat　of　Enrique。　He　wanted　as　little　blood　as　possible　on　the　tunic。
　Dressed　in　bat　fatigues　with　the　insignias　of　an　army　major　on　the　shoulders　of　his　field　jacket；　Bourne　blended　in　with　the　sporadic　appearances　of　military　personnel　as　they　crisscrossed　the　American　pound　from　one　sector　to　another　on　their　night　patrols。　There　were　not　many；　perhaps　thirty　men；　covering　the　entire　acreage　of　the　eight　square　miles；　according　to　Benjamin。　In　the　〃metropolitan〃　areas　they　were　generally　on　foot；　in　pairs；　in　the　〃rural〃　districts　they　drove　military　vehicles。　The　young　trainer　had　requisitioned　a　jeep。
　From　the　missars　Suite　at　U。S。　headquarters　they　had　been　taken　to　a　military　warehouse　west　of　the　river　where　Benjamin's　papers　gained　them　entrance　and　the　jeep。　Inside；　the　astonished　interior　guards　watched　as　the　silent　Bourne　was　outfitted　with　a　field　uniform　plete　with　a　carbine　bayonet；　a　standard　。45　automatic　and　five　clips　of　live　ammunition；　this　last　obtained　only　after　an　authorization　call　was　placed　to　Krupkin's　unknowing　subordinates　at　Capital　HQ。　Once　again　outside；　Jason　plained：　〃What　about　the　flares　I　wanted　and　at　least　three　or　four　grenades？　You　agreed　to　get　me　everything　I　needed；　not　half　of　it！〃
　〃They're　ing；〃　answered　Benjamin；　speeding　out　of　the　warehouse　parking　lot。　〃The　flares　are　over　at　Motor　Vehicles　and　grenades　aren't　part　of　normal　ordnance。　They're　in　steel　vaults　down　at　the　tunnel…all　the　tunnels…under　Emergency　Weapons。〃　The　young　trainer　glanced　at　Bourne；　a　glimmering　of　humor　seen　on　his　face　in　the　glow　of　the　headlights　washing　over　the　roofless　jeep。　〃In　anticipation　of　a　NATO　assault；　most　likely。〃
　〃That's　stupid。　We'd　e　in　from　the　sky。〃
　〃Not　with　the　air　base　ninety　seconds'　flying　time　away。〃
　〃Hurry　up；　I　want　those　grenades。　Will　we　have　any　trouble　getting　them？〃
　〃Not　if　Krupkin　keeps　up　the　good　work。〃　Krupkin　had；　with　the　flares　in　hand；　the　tunnel　was　their　last　supply　stop。　Four　Russian　army　grenades　were　counted　out　and　counter　signed　by　Benjamin。　〃Where　to？〃　he　asked　as　the　soldier　in　an　American　uniform　returned　to　the　concrete　guardhouse。
　〃These　aren't　exactly　U。S。　general　issue；〃　said　Jason；　putting　the　grenades　carefully；　one　by　one；　into　the　pockets　of　his　field　jacket。
　〃They're　not　for　training；　either。　The　pounds　aren't　military…oriented　but　basically　civilian。　If　those　are　ever　used；　it's　not　for　indoctrination　purposes。　。。。　Where　do　we　go　now？〃
　〃Check　with　headquarters　first。　See　if　anything's　happened　at　any　of　the　border　checkpoints。〃
　〃My　beeper　would　have　gone　off…〃
　〃I　don't　trust　beepers；　I　like　words；〃　interrupted　Jason。　〃Get　on　the　radio。〃
　Benjamin　did　so；　switching　to　the　Russian　language　and　using　the　codes　that　only　senior　staff　were　assigned。　The　terse　Soviet　reply　came　over　the　speaker；　the　young　trainer　replaced　the　microphone　and　turned　to　Bourne。　〃No　activity　at　all；〃　he　said。　〃Just　some　interpound　fuel　deliveries。〃
　〃What　are　they？〃
　〃Petrol　distribution　mainly。　Some　pounds　have　larger　tanks　than　others；　so　logistics　call　for　routine　apportionments　until　the　main　supplies　are　shipped　downriver。〃
　〃They　distribute　at　night？〃
　〃It's　far　better　than　those　trucks　clogging　up　the　streets　during　the　day。　Remember；　everything's　scaled　down　here。　Also；　we've　been　driving　through　the　back　roads；　but　there's　a　maintenance　army　in　the　central　locations　cleaning　up　stores　and　offices　and　restaurants；　getting　ready　for　tomorrow's　assignments。　Large　trucks　wouldn't　help。〃
　〃Christ；　it　is　Disneyland。　。。。　All　right；　head　for　the　'Spanish'　border；　Pedro。〃
　〃To　get　there　we　have　to　pass　through　'England'　and　'France。'　I　don't　suppose　it　matters　much；　but　I　don't　speak　French。　Or　Spanish。　Do　you？〃
　〃French　fluently；　Spanish　acceptably。　Anything　else？〃
　〃Maybe　you'd　better　drive。〃
　The　Jackal　braked　the　huge　fuel　truck　at　the　〃West　German〃　border；　it　was　as　far　as　he　intended　to　go。　The　remaining　northernmost　areas　of　〃Scandinavia〃　and　〃The　Netherlands〃　were　the　lesser　satellites；　the　impact　of　their　destruction　was　not　parable　to　that　of　the　lower　pounds　and　the　time　element　spared　them。　Everything　was　timing　now；　and　〃West　Germany〃　would　initiate　the　wholesale　conflagrations。　He　adjusted　the　coarse　Portuguese　shirt　that　covered　a　Spanish　general's　tunic　beneath；　and　as　the　guard　came　out　of　the　gatehouse　Carlos　spoke　in　Russian；　using　the　same　words　he　had　used　at　every　other　crossing。
　〃Don't　ask　me　to　speak　the　stupid　language　you　talk　here。　I　deliver　petrol；　I　don't　spend　time　in　classrooms！　Here's　my　key。〃
　〃I　barely　speak　it　myself；　rade；〃　said　the　guard；　laughing　as　he　accepted　the　small；　flat；　card…like　object　and　inserted　it　into　the　puterized　machine。　The　heavy　iron　barrier　arced　up　into　the　vertical　position；　the　guard　returned　the　key　and　the　Jackal　sped　through　into　a　miniaturized　〃West　Berlin。〃
　He　raced　through　the　narrow　replica　of　the　Kurfürstendamm　to　the　Budapesterstrasse；　where　he　slowed　down　and　pulled　out　the　petcock　release。　The　fuel　flowed　into　the　street。　He　then　reached　into　the　open　duffel　bag　on　the　seat　beside　him；　ripped　out　the　small　pretimed　plastique　explosives　and；　as　he　had　done　throughout　the　southern　pounds　to　the　border　of　〃France；〃　hurled　them　through　the　lowered　windows　on　both　sides　of　the　truck　into　the　foundations　of　the　wooden　buildings　he　thought　most　flammable。　He　sped　into　the　〃Munich〃　sector；　then　to　the　port　of　〃Bremerhaven〃　on　the　river；　and　finally　into　〃Bonn〃　and　the　scaled…down　versions　of　the　embassies　in　〃Bad　Godesberg；〃　flooding　the　streets；　distributing　the　explosives。　He　looked　at　his　watch；　it　was　time　to　head　back。　He　had　barely　fifteen　minutes　before　the　first　detonations　took　place　in　all　of　〃West　Germany；〃　followed　by　the　explosions　in　the　bined　pounds　of　〃Italy…Greece；〃　〃Israel…Egypt〃　and　〃Spain…Portugal；〃　each　spaced　eight　minutes　apart；　timed　to　create　maximum　chaos。
　There　was　no　way　the　individual　fire　brigades　could　contain　the　flaming　streets　and　buildings　in　the　disparate　sectors　of　their　pounds　north　of　〃France。〃　Others　would　be　ordered　in　from　adjacent　pounds　only　to　be　recalled　when　the　fires　erupted　on　their　own　grounds。　It　was　a　simple　formula　for　cosmic　confusion；　the　cosmos　being　the　false　universe　of　Novgorod。　The　border　gates；　would　be　flagged　open；　frantic　traffic　unimpeded；　and　to　plete　the　devastation；　the　genius　that　was　Ilich　Ramirez　Sanchez…brought　into　the　world　of　terror　as　Carlos　the　Jackal　by　the　errors　of　that　same　Novgorod…had　to　be　in　〃Paris。〃　Not　his　Paris；　but　the　hated　Novgorod's　〃Paris；〃　and　he　would　burn　it　to　the　ground　in　ways　the　maniacs　of　the　Third　Reich　never　dreamed　of。　Then　would　e　〃England；〃　and　finally；　ultimately；　the　largest　pound　in　the　despised；　isolated；　illusionist　Novgorod；　where　he　would　leave　his　triumphant　message…the　〃United　States　of　America；〃　breeder　of　the　apostate　assassin　Jason　Bourne。　The　statement　would　be　as　pure　and　as　clear　as　Alpine　water　washing　over　the　blood　of　a　destroyed　false　universe。
　I　alone　have　done　this。　My　enemies　are　dead　and　I　live。
　Carlos　checked　his　duffel　bag；　what　remained　were　the　most　lethal　instruments　of　death　found　in　the　arsenal　of　Kubinka。　Four　layered　rows　of　short…packaged；　heat…seeking　missiles；　twenty　in　all；　each　capable　of　blowing　up　the　entire　base　of　the　Washington　Monument；　and　once　fused　and　unshielded；　each　would　seek　the　sources　of　fire　and　do　its　work。　Satisfied；　the　Jackal　shut　off　the　fuel　release；　turned　around　and　sped　back　to　the　border　gate。
　The　sleepy　technician　at　Capital　Headquarters　blinked　his　eyes　and　stared　at　the　green　letters　on　the　screen　in　front　of　him。　What　he　read　did　not　really　make　sense；　but　the　clearances　went　unchallenged。　For　the　fifth　time　the　〃mandant〃　of　the　〃Spanish〃　pound　had　crossed　and　recrossed　the　north　borders　up　into　〃Germany〃　and　was　now　heading　back　into　〃France。〃　Twice　before；　when　the　codes　were　transmitted　and　in　accord　with　the　maximum　alert　that　was　in　force；　the　technician　had　phoned　the　gates　of　〃Israel〃　and　〃Italy〃　and　was　told　that　only　a　fuel　truck　had　passed　through。　That　was　the　information　he　had　given　to　a　code…cleared　trainer　named　Benjamin；　but　now　he　wondered。　Why　would　such　a　high…ranking　official　be　driving　a　fuel　truck？　。。。　On　the　other　hand；　why　not？　Novgorod　was　rife　with　corruption；　everyone　suspected　that；　so　perhaps　the　〃mandant〃　was　either　seeking　out　the　corrupters　or　collecting　his　fees　at　night。　Regardless；　since　there　was　no　report　of　a　lost　or　stolen　card；　and　the　puters　raised　no　objections；　it　was　better　to　leave　well　enough　alone。　One　never　knew　who　his　next　superior　might　be。
　〃Voici　ma　carte；〃　said　Bourne　to　the　guard　at　the　border　crossing　as　he　handed　the　man　his　puterized　card。　〃Vite；　s'il　vous　plaоt！〃
　〃Da　。。。　oui；〃　replied　the　guard；　walking　rapidly　to　the　clearance　machine　as　an　enormous　fuel　truck；　heading　the　other　way；　passed　through　into　〃England。〃
　〃Don't　press　the　French　too　much；〃　said　Benjamin；　in　the　front　seat　beside　Jason。　〃These　cats　do　their　best；　but　they're　not　linguists。〃
　〃Cal…if…fornia　。。。　here　I　e；〃　sang　Bourne　softly。　〃You　sure　you　and　your　father　don't　want　to　join　your　mother　in　LA？〃
　〃Shut　up！〃
　The　guard　returned；　saluted；　and　the　iron　barrier　was　raised。　Jason　accelerated；　and　saw　in　a　matter　of　moments；　bathed　in　floodlights；　a　three…story　replica　of　the　Eiffel　Tower。　In　the　distance；　to　the　right；　was　a　miniature　Champs…Elysées　with　a　wooden　reproduction　of　the　Arc　de　Triomphe；　high　enough　to　be　unmistakable。　Absently；　Bourne's　mind　wandered　back　to　those　fitful；　terrible　hours　when　he　and　Marie　had　raced　all　over　Paris　trying　desperately　to　find　each　other。　。。。　Marie；　oh　God；　Marie！　I　want　to　e　back　I　want　to　be　David　again。　He　and　I…we're　so　much　older　now。　He　doesn't　frighten　me　any　longer　and　I　don't　anger　him。　。。。　Who？　Which　of　us？　Oh；　Christ！
　〃Hold　it；〃　said　Benjamin；　touching　Jason's　arm。　〃Slow　down。〃
　〃What　is　it？〃
　〃Stop；　〃cried　the　young　trainer。　〃Pull　over　and　shut　off　the　engine。〃