rl.thebourneultimatum-第134部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　have　to　find　him；　isolate　him；　above　all；　cut　him　off　from　everyone　else　trying　to　get　out。〃
　〃You're　a　goddamned　maniac；〃　broke　in　Benjamin；　the　veins　pronounced　in　his　forehead。　〃I　could　kill　'a　few'…more　than　a　few！　You're　crazy！〃
　〃At　this　moment　I'm　the　most　rational　man　you've　ever　met；〃　interrupted　Jason　harshly；　rapidly；　as　the　panicked　residents　of　Novgorod　kept　rushing　by。　〃There's　not　a　sane　general　in　the　Soviet　army…the　same　army　that　retook　Stalingrad…who　wouldn't　agree　with　me。　。。。　It's　called　the　'calculated　estimate　of　losses；'　and　there's　a　very　good　reason　for　that　lousy　verbiage。　It　simply　means　you're　paying　a　lot　less　for　what　you're　getting　now　than　you'd　pay　later。〃
　〃You're　asking　too　much！　These　people　are　my　rades；　my　friends；　they're　Russians。　Would　you　fire　into　a　crowd　of　Americans？　One　recoil　of　my　hands…an　inch；　two　inches　with　a　'forty…seven'…and　I　could　maim　or　kill　half　a　dozen　people！　The　risk's　too　great！〃
　〃You　don't　have　a　choice。　If　the　Jackal　gets　by　me…and　I'll　know　it　if　he　does…I'll　throw　in　a　grenade　and　kill　twenty。〃
　〃You　son　of　a　bitch！〃
　〃Believe　it；　Ben。　Where　Carlos　is　concerned　I'm　a　son　of　a　bitch。　I　can't　afford　him　any　longer；　the　world　can't　afford　him。　Move！〃
　The　trainer　named　Benjamin　spat　in　Bourne's　face；　then　turned　and　began　fighting　his　way　to　the　guardhouse　and　the　unseen　corpse　of　the　colonel　beyond。　Almost　unconsciously　Jason　wiped　his　face　with　the　back　of　his　hand；　his　concentration　solely　on　the　fenced　parking　area；　his　eyes　darting　from　one　pocket　of　shadows　to　another；　trying　to　center　in　on　the　origins　of　the　automatic　gunfire；　yet　knowing　it　was　pointless；　the　Jackal　had　changed　position　by　then。　He　counted　the　other　vehicles　in　addition　to　the　fuel　truck；　there　were　nine　parked　by　the　fence…two　station　wagons；　four　sedans　and　three　suburban　vans；　all　American…made　or　simulated　as　such。　Carlos　was　concealed　beyond　one　of　them　or　possibly　the　fuel　truck；　the　last　unlikely　as　it　was　the　farthest　away　from　the　open　gate　in　the　fence　that　permitted　access　to　the　guardhouse　and　thus　to　the　tunnel。
　Jason　crouched　and　crawled　forward；　he　reached　the　waist…high　fence；　the　pandemonium　behind　him　continuous；　deafening。　Every　muscle　and　joint　in　his　legs　and　arms　pounded　with　pain；　cramps　were　developing　everywhere；　everywhere！　Don't　think　about　them；　don't　acknowledge　them。　You're　too　close；　David！　Keep　going。　Jason　Bourne　knows　what　to　do。　Trust　him！
　Aaughh！　He　spun　his　body　over　the　fence；　the　handle　of　his　sheathed　bayonet　embedded　itself　in　his　kidney。　There　is　no　pain！　You're　too　close；　David…Jason。　Listen　to　Jason！
　The　searchlights…someone　had　pressed　something　and　they　went　crazy；　spinning　around　in　circles；　abrupt；　blinding；　out　of　control！　Where　would　Carlos　go？　Where　could　he　hide？　The　beams　were　erratically　piercing　everywhere！　Then；　from　an　opening　that　he　could　not　see　from　across　the　fenced…in　area；　two　police　cars　raced　inside；　their　sirens　blaring。　Uniformed　men　leaped　out　from　every　door；　and　contrary　to　anything　he　expected　to　see；　each　scrambled　to　the　borders　of　the　fence；　behind　the　cars　and　the　vans；　one　after　another　dashing　from　one　vehicle　to　another　to　the　open　gate　that　led　to　the　guardhouse　and　the　tunnel。
　There　was　a　break　in　space；　in　time。　In　men！　The　last　four　escapees　from　the　second　car　were　suddenly　three…and　only　moments　later　did　the　fourth　appear…but　he　was　not　the　same…the　uniform　was　not　the　same！　There　were　specks　of　orange　and　red；　and　the　visored　officer's　cap　was　laced　with　gold　ribbing；　the　visor　itself　too　prominent　for　the　American　army；　the　crown　of　the　cap　too　pointed。　What　was　it？　。。。　And；　suddenly；　Bourne　understood。　Fragments　of　his　memories　spiraled　back　years　to　Madrid　or　Casavieja；　when　he　was　tracing　the　Jackal's　contracts　with　the　Falangists。　It　was　a　Spanish　uniform！　That　was　it！　Carlos　had　infiltrated　through　the　Spanish　pound；　and　as　his　Russian　was　fluent；　he　was　using　the　high…ranking　uniform　to　make　his　escape　from　Novgorod。
　Jason　lurched　to　his　feet；　his　automatic　drawn；　and　ran　across　the　graveled　lot；　his　left　hand　reaching　into　his　field　jacket　pocket　for　his　second…to…last　flare。　He　pulled　the　release　and　hurled　the　fired　stalk　above　the　cars；　beyond　the　fence。　Benjamin　would　not　see　it　from　the　guardhouse　and　mistake　it　for　the　signal　to　close　the　gates　of　the　tunnel；　that　signal　would　e　shortly…in　seconds；　perhaps…but　at　the　moment　it　was　premature；　again　perhaps　by　seconds。
　〃Eto　srochno！〃　roared　one　of　the　escaping　men；　spinning　around　and　panicked　at　the　sight　of　the　hissing；　blinding　flare。
　〃Skoryeye！〃　shouted　another；　passing　three　panions　and　racing　toward　the　open　section　of　the　fence。　As　the　whirling　searchlights　continued　their　maniacal　spinning；　Bourne　counted　the　seven　figures　as　one　by　one　they　dashed　away　from　the　last　car　and　passed　through　the　opening；　joining　the　excited　crowds　at　the　mouth　of　the　tunnel。　The　eighth　man　did　not　appear；　the　high…ranking　Spanish　uniform　was　nowhere　in　sight。　The　Jackal　was　trapped！
　Now！　Jason　whipped　out　his　last　flare；　yanked　the　release；　and　threw　it　with　all　his　strength　over　the　stream　of　rushing　men　and　women　at　the　guardhouse。　Do　it；　Ben！　he　screamed　in　silence　as　he　removed　the　next…to…last　grenade　from　the　pocket　of　his　field　jacket。　Do　it　now！
　As　if　in　answer　to　his　fevered　plea；　a　thunderous　roar　came　from　the　tunnel；　round　after　round　of　hysterical　protestations　punctuated　by　screams　and　shrieks　and　wailing　chaos。　Two　rapid；　deafening　bursts　of　automatic　gunfire　preceded　unintelligible　mands　over　the　speakers；　shouted　in　Russian。　。。。　Another　burst　and　the　same　voice　continued；　louder；　even　more　authoritative；　as　the　crowd　momentarily　but　perceptibly　quieted　down；　only　to　suddenly　resume　screaming　at　full　volume。　Bourne　glanced　over；　astonished　to　see　through　the　beams　of　the　spinning　searchlights　the　figure　of　Benjamin　now　standing　on　the　roof　of　the　concrete　guardhouse。　The　young　trainer　was　shouting　into　the　microphone；　exhorting　the　crowd　to　follow　his　instructions；　whatever　they　were。　。。。　And　whatever　they　were；　they　were　being　obeyed！　The　multitude　gradually；　then　gathering　momentum；　began　reversing　direction…then；　as　a　single　unit；　started　racing　back　into　the　street！　Benjamin　ignited　his　flare　and　waved　it；　pointing　to　the　north。　He　was　sending　Jason　his　own　signal。　Not　only　was　the　tunnel　shut　down　but　the　crowds　were　being　dispersed　without　anyone　being　shot　with　the　AK…47。　There　had　been　a　better　way。
　Bourne　dropped　to　the　ground；　his　eyes　scanning　the　under　sides　of　the　stationary　vehicles；　the　spewing　flame　beyond　lighting　up　the　open　spaces。　。。。　A　pair　of　legs…in　boots！　Behind　the　third　automobile　on　the　left；　no　more　than　twenty　yards　from　the　break　in　the　fence　that　led　to　the　tunnel。　Carlos　was　his！　The　end　was　at　last　in　sight！　No　time！　Do　what　you　have　to　do　and　do　it　quickly！　He　dropped　his　weapon　on　the　gravel；　gripped　the　grenade　in　his　right　hand；　pulled　the　pin；　grabbed　the　。45　with　his　left　hand　and　lurched　off　the　ground；　racing　forward。　Roughly　thirty　feet　from　the　car　he　dived　back　down　into　the　gravel；　turned　sideways　and　heaved　the　grenade　under　the　automobile…only　at　the　last　instant；　the　small　bomb　having　left　his　hand；　realizing　that　he　had　made　a　terrible　error！　The　legs　behind　the　car　did　not　move…the　boots　remained　in　place；　for　they　were　just　that；　boots！　He　lunged　to　his　right；　rolling　furiously　over　the　sharp　stones；　shielding　his　face；　curling　his　body　into　the　smallest　mass　he　could　manage。
　The　explosion　was　deafening；　the　lethal　debris　joining　the　whirling　beams　of　the　searchlights　in　the　night　sky；　fragments　of　metal　and　glass　stinging　Jason's　back　and　legs。　Move；　move！　screamed　the　voice　in　his　mind's　ears　as　he　lurched　to　his　knees；　then　to　his　feet　in　the　smoke　and　fire　of　the　burning　automobile。　As　he　did　so　the　gravel　erupted　all　around　him；　he　zigzagged　wildly　toward　the　protection　of　the　nearest　vehicle；　a　square…shaped　van。　He　was　hit　twice；　in　his　shoulder　and　thigh！　He　spun　around　the　wall　of　the　van　at　the　precise　moment　when　the　large　windshield　was　blown　away。
　〃You're　no　match　for　me；　Jason　Bourne！〃　screamed　Carlos　the　Jackal；　his　automatic　weapon　on　rapid　fire。　〃You　never　were！　You　are　a　pretender；　a　fraud！〃
　〃So　be　it；〃　roared　Bourne。　〃Then　e　and　get　me！〃　Jason　raced　to　the　driver's　door；　yanked　it　open；　then　ran　to　the　back　of　the　vehicle　where　he　crouched；　his　face　to　the　edge；　his　Colt　。45　angled　straight　up　next　to　his　cheek。　With　a　final　hissing　expulsion；　the　flare　beyond　the　fence　burned　itself　out　as　the　Jackal　stopped　his　continuous　fire。　Bourne　understood。　Carlos　faced　the　open　door；　unsure；　indecisive　。。。　only　seconds　to　go。　Metal　against　metal；　a　gun　barrel　was　rammed　against　the　door；　slamming　it　shut。　Now！
　Jason　spun　around　the　edge　of　the　van；　his　weapon　exploding；　firing　into　the　Spanish　uniform；　blowing　the　gun　out　of　the　Jackal's　hands。　One；　two；　three；　the　shells　flew　in　the　air…and　then　they　stopped！　They　stopped；　the　explosions　replaced　by　a　sickening；　jamming　click　as　the　round　in　the　chamber　failed　to　eject。　Carlos　lurched　to　the　ground　for　his　weapon；　his　left　arm　limp　and　bleeding　but　his　right　hand　still　strong；　clutching　the　gun　like　the　claw　of　a　crazed　animal。
　Bourne　whipped　his　bayonet　out　of　its　scabbard…　and　sprang　forward；　slicing　the　blade　down　toward　the　Jackal's　forearm。　He　was　too　late！　Carlos　held　the　weapon！　Jason　lunged　up；　his　left　hand　clasping　the　hot　barrel…hold　on；　hold　on！　You　can't　let　it　go！　Twist　it！　Clockwise！　Use　the　bayonet…no；　don't！　Drop　it！　Use　both　hands！　The　conflicting　mands　clashed　in　his　head；　madness。　He　had　no　breath；　no　strength；　his　eyes　could　not　focus…the　shoulder。　Like　Bourne　himself；　the　Jackal　was　wounded　in　his　right　shoulder！
　Hold　on！　Reach　the　shoulder　but　hold　on！　With　a　last；　gasping　final　surge；　Bourne　shot　up　and　crashed　Carlos　back　into　the　side　of　the　van；　pummeling　the　wounded　area。　The　Jackal　screamed；　dropping　the　weapon；　then　kicked　it　under　the　vehicle。
　Where　the　blow　came　from；　Jason　at　first　did　not　know；　he　only　knew　that　the　left　side　of　his　skull　seemed　suddenly　split　in　two。　Then　he　realized　that　he　had　done　it　to　himself！　He　had　slipped　on　the　bl