rl.thebourneultimatum-第35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！


ard。　R。G。　R。G。　R。G。　R。G。　What　the　hell　was　R。G。？
　He　cross…checked　the　data　with　the　entries　from　the　three　different　leather…bound　notebooks。　A　mon　numeral　sprang　out　in　green　letters　on　the　screen。　617…202…0011。　A　telephone　number。　Conklin　picked　up　the　Langley　phone；　dialed　the　night　watch；　and　told　the　CIA　operator　to　trace　it。
　〃It's　unlisted；　sir。　It's　one　of　three　numbers　for　the　same　residence　in　Boston；　Massachusetts。〃
　〃The　name；　please。〃
　〃Gates；　Randolph。　The　residence　is…〃
　〃Never　mind；　Operator；〃　interrupted　Alex；　knowing　that　he　had　been　given　the　essential　information。　Randolph　Gates；　scholar；　attorney　for　the　privileged；　advocate　of　the　bigger　the　better；　the　biggest　the　best。　How　right　that　Gates　should　be　involved　with　amassing　hundreds　of　millions　in　Europe　controlled　by　American　interests。　。。。　No；　wait　a　moment。　It　wasn't　right　at　all；　it　was　wrong！　It　was　pletely　illogical　for　the　scholarly　attorney　to　have　any　connection　whatsoever　to　a　highly　questionable；　indeed　illegal；　operation　like　Medusa。　It　did　not　make　sense！　One　did　not　have　to　admire　the　celebrated　legal　giant　to　grant　him　just　about　the　cleanest　record　for　propriety　in　the　Bar　Association。　He　was　a　notorious　stickler　for　the　most　minute　points　of　law；　often　using　those　minutiae　of　his　craft　to　obtain　favorable　decisions；　but　no　one　ever　dared　question　his　integrity。　So　unpopular　were　his　legal　and　philosophical　opinions　to　the　brightest　lawyers　in　the　liberal　establishment　that　he　would　have　been　gleefully　discredited　years　ago　at　the　slightest　hint　of　impropriety。
　Yet　here　was　his　name　appearing　six　times　in　the　appointments　calendar　of　a　Medusan　responsible　for　untold　millions　in　the　nation's　defense　expenditures。　An　unstable　Medusan　whose　apparent　suicide　was　in　fact　murder。
　Conklin　looked　at　the　screen；　at　the　date　of　Swayne's　last　entry　referring　to　R。G。　It　was　on　August　second；　barely　a　week　ago。　He　picked　up　the　leather…bound　diary　and　turned　to　the　day。　He　had　been　concentrating　on　names；　not　ments；　unless　the　information　struck　him　as　relevant…to　what　he　was　not　sure；　but　he　was　trusting　to　instinct。　If　he　had　known　up　front　who　R。G。　was；　the　abbreviated　handwritten　notation　beside　the　last　entry　would　have　caught　his　eye。
　RG　will　nt　cnsider　app't　fr　Maj。　Crft。　Need　Crft　on　hs　stff。　Unlock。　Paris…7　yrs　ago。　Two　file　out　and　bur'd。
　The　Paris　should　have　alerted　him；　thought　Alex；　but　Swayne's　notes　throughout　were　filled　with　foreign　or　exotic　names　and　places　as　if　the　general　had　been　trying　to　impress　whoever　might　read　his　personal　observations。　Also；　Conklin　regretfully　considered；　he　was　terribly　tired；　were　it　not　for　his　puter　he　probably　would　not　have　centered　in　on　Dr。　Randolph　Gates；　legal　Olympian。
　Paris…7　yrs　ago。　Two　file　out　and　bur'd。
　The　first　part　was　obvious；　the　second　obscure　but　hardly　concealed。　The　〃Two〃　referred　to　the　army's　intelligence　arm；　G…2；　and　the　〃file〃　was　just　that；　an　event　or　a　revelation　uncovered　by　intelligence　personnel　in　Paris…7　yrs　ago　and　removed　from　the　data　banks。　It　was　an　amateur's　attempt　to　use　intelligence　gibberish　by　misusing　it。　〃Unlock〃　meant　〃key〃…Jesus；　Swayne　was　an　idiot！　Using　his　notepad；　Alex　wrote　out　the　notation　as　he　knew　it　to　be：
　〃Randolph　Gates　will　not　consider　the　appointment　for　a　Major　Craft　or　Croft　or　even　Christopher；　for　the　f　could　be　an　s。　（But）　we　need　Crft　on　his　staff。　The　key　is　to　use　the　information　in　our　G…2　file　about　Gates　in　Paris　seven　years　ago；　said　file　removed　and　in　our　possession。〃
　If　that　was　not　the　exact　translation　of　Swayne's　insertion；　it　was　certainly　close　enough　in　substance　to　act　upon；　mused　Conklin；　turning　his　wrist　and　glancing　at　his　watch。　It　was　twenty　past　three　in　the　morning；　a　time　when　even　the　most　disciplined　person　would　be　shaken　by　the　shrill　bell　of　a　telephone。　Why　not？　David…Jason…was　right。　Every　hour　counted　now。　Alex　picked　up　the　phone　and　touched　the　numbers　for　Boston；　Massachusetts。
　The　telephone　kept　ringing　and　the　bitch　would　not　pick　it　up　in　her　room！　Then　Gates　looked　at　the　lighted　square　and　the　blood　drained　from　his　head。　It　was　his　unlisted　number；　a　number　that　was　restricted　to　a　very　few。　He　thrashed　wildly　in　the　bed；　his　eyes　wide；　the　strange　call　from　Paris　unnerved　him　the　more　he　thought　about　it。　It　concerned　Montserrat；　he　knew　it！　The　information　he　had　relayed　was　wrong。　。。。　Prefontaine　had　lied　to　him　and　now　Paris　wanted　an　accounting！　My　God；　they'd　e　after　him；　expose　him！　。。。　No；　there　was　a　way；　a　perfectly　acceptable　explanation；　the　truth。　He　would　deliver　the　liars　to　Paris；　to　Paris's　man　here　in　Boston。　He　would　trap　the　drunken　Prefontaine　and　the　sleazeball　detective　and　force　them　to　tell　their　lies　to　the　one　person　who　could　absolve　him。　。。。　The　phone！　He　had　to　answer　it。　He　could　not　appear　as　if　he　had　anything　to　hide！　He　reached　out　and　grabbed　the　incessantly　ringing　instrument；　pulling　it　to　his　ear。　〃Yes？〃
　〃Seven　years　ago；　Counselor；〃　began　the　quiet　voice　on　the　line。　〃Do　I　have　to　remind　you　that　we've　got　the　entire　file。　The　Deuxième　Bureau　was　extremely　cooperative；　far　more　than　you　have　been。〃
　〃For　God's　sake；　I　was　lied　to！〃　cried　Gates；　swinging　his　legs　onto　the　floor　in　panic；　his　voice　hoarse。　〃You　can't　believe　I'd　forward　erroneous　information。　I'd　have　to　be　insane！〃
　〃We　know　you　can　be　obstinate。　We　made　a　simple　request…〃
　〃I　plied；　I　swear　I　did！　Good　Christ；　I　paid　fifteen　thousand　dollars　to　make　certain　everything　was　silent；　absolutely　untraceable…not　that　the　money　matters；　of　course…〃
　〃You　paid　。。。　？〃　interrupted　the　quiet　voice。
　〃I　can　show　you　the　bank　withdrawals！〃
　〃For　what？〃
　〃The　information；　naturally。　I　hired　a　former　judge　who　has　contacts…〃
　〃For　information　about　Craft？〃
　〃What？〃
　〃Croft。　。。。　Christopher。〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃Our　major；　Counselor。　The　major。〃
　〃If　that's　her　code　name；　then　yes；　yes　I　did！〃
　〃A　code　name？〃
　〃The　woman。　The　two　children。　They　flew　to　the　island　of　Montserrat。　I　swear　that's　what　I　was　told！〃
　There　was　a　sudden　click　and　the　line　went　dead。
　
　13
　His　hand　still　on　the　telephone；　Conklin　broke　out　in　a　sweat。　He　released　the　phone　and　got　up　from　his　chair；　limping　away　from　the　puter；　looking　back　at　it；　down　at　it；　as　if　it　were　some　monstrous　thing　that　had　taken　him　into　a　forbidden　land　where　nothing　was　as　it　appeared　to　be　or　should　be。　What　had　happened？　How　did　Randolph　Gates　know　anything　about　Montserrat；　about　Marie　and　the　children？　Why？
　Alex　lowered　himself　into　the　armchair；　his　pulse　racing；　his　thoughts　clashing；　no　judgments　emerging；　only　chaos。　He　gripped　his　right　wrist　with　his　left　hand；　his　nails　digging　into　his　flesh。　He　had　to　get　hold　of　himself；　he　had　to　think…he　had　to　act！　For　David's　wife　and　children。
　Associations。　What　were　the　conceivable　associations？　It　was　difficult　enough　to　consider　Gates　as　even　unwittingly　a　part　of　Medusa；　but　impossible　to　think　he　was　also　connected　to　Carlos　the　Jackal。　Impossible！　。。。　Yet　both　appeared　to　be；　the　connections　existed。　Was　Carlos　himself　part　of　Swayne's　Medusa？　Everything　they　knew　about　the　Jackal　would　deny　it　emphatically。　The　assassin's　strength　was　in　his　total　disassociation　with　any　structured　entity；　Jason　Bourne　had　proved　that　thirteen　years　ago　in　Paris。　No　group　of　people　could　ever　reach　him；　they　could　only　send　out　a　message　and　he　would　reach　them。　The　single　organization　the　international　killer　for　hire　permitted　was　his　army　of　old　men；　from　the　Mediterranean　to　the　Baltic；　lost　misfits；　criminals　whose　impoverished　last　days　were　made　better　by　the　assassin's　largess；　fealty　unto　death　demanded　and　received。　Where　did…could…a　man　like　Randolph　Gates　fit　in？
　He　didn't；　concluded　Alex　as　the　outer　limits　of　his　imagination　explored　an　old　territory…Be　skeptical　of　the　apparent。　The　celebrated　attorney　was　no　more　part　of　Carlos　than　he　was　of　Medusa。　He　was　the　aberration；　the　flaw　in　the　lens；　an　otherwise　honorable　man　with　a　single　weakness　that　had　been　uncovered　by　two　disparate　parties　both　with　extraordinary　resources。　It　was　mon　knowledge　that　the　Jackal　could　reach　into　the　Sыreté　and　Interpol；　and　it　took　no　clairvoyance　to　assume　that　Medusa　could　penetrate　the　army's　G…2。　It　was　the　only　possible　explanation；　for　Gates　had　been　too　controversial；　too　powerful　for　too　long　to　function　as　spectacularly　as　he　did　in　the　courts　if　his　vulnerability　was　easily　uncovered。　No；　it　would　take　predators　like　the　Jackal　and　the　men　of　Medusa　to　bore　deep　enough　to　dredge　up　a　secret　so　devastating　as　to　turn　Randolph　Gates　into　a　valuable　pawn。　Clearly；　Carlos　had　gotten　to　him　first。
　Conklin　reflected　on　a　truth　that　was　forever　reconfirmed：　the　world　of　global　corrupters　was　in　reality　a　small　multilayered　neighborhood；　geometric　in　design；　the　irregular　avenues　of　corruption　leading　into　one　another。　How　could　it　be　otherwise？　The　residents　of　those　lethal　streets　had　services　to　offer；　their　clients　were　a　specific　breed…the　desperate　dregs　of　humanity。　Extort；　promise；　kill。　The　Jackal　and　the　men　of　Medusa　belonged　to　the　same　fraternal　order。　The　Brotherhood　of　I　Must　Have　Mine。
　Breakthrough。　But　it　was　a　breakthrough　Jason　Bourne　could　handle…not　David　Webb…and　Webb　was　still　too　much　a　part　of　Bourne。　Especially　since　both　parts　of　the　same　man　were　over　a　thousand　miles　away　from　Montserrat；　the　coordinates　of　death　determined　by　Carlos。　Montserrat？　。。。　Johnny　St。　Jacques！　The　〃little　brother〃　who　had　proved　himself　in　a　backwater　town　in　the　northern　regions　of　Canada；　proved　himself　beyond　the　knowledge　and　the　understanding　of　his　family；　especially　his　beloved　sister。　A　man　who　could　kill　in　anger…who　had　killed　in　fury…and　who　would　kill　again　if　the　sister　he　adored　and　her　children　were　under　the　Jackal's　gun。　David　believed　in　him…Jason　Bourne　believed　in　him；　which　was　far　more　to　the　point。
　Alex　looked　over　at　the　telephone　console；　then　quickly　got　out　of　the　chair。　He　rushed　to　the　desk；　sat　down；　and　touched　the　buttons　that　rewound　the　current　tape；　adjusting　it　to　the　spot　where　he　wanted　to　pick　it　up。　He　went　forward　and　back　until　he　heard　Gates's　panicked　voice。
　〃。。。　Good　Chris