rl.thebourneidentity-第100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！


　'Not　yours。　Mine。'
　Treadstone？
　He　knew！　Philippe　d'Anjou　had　the　answer！　Remain　calm。　Don't　let　your　anxiety　show。
　'Seventy…one；'　pleted　Jason。　'Just　a　simple　question　and　I'll　disappear。　And　when　you　give　me　the　answer　…　the　truth　…　I'll　give　you　something　in　exchange。'
　'What　could　I　possibly　want　from　you？　Except　you？'
　'Information　that　may　let　you　live。　It's　no　guarantee；　but　believe　me　when　I　tell　you；　you　won't　live　without　it。　Pare　Monceau；　d'Anjou。'
　Silence　again。　Bourne　could　picture　the　grey…haired　former　Medusan　staring　at　his　switchboard；　the　name　of　the　wealthy　Paris　district　echoing　louder　and　louder　in　his　mind。　There　was　death　from　Pare　Monceau　and　d'Anjou　knew　it　as　surely　as　he　knew　the　dead　woman　in　Neuilly…sur…Seine　was　Jacqueline　Lavier。
　'What　might　that　information　be？'　asked　d'Anjou。
　'The　identity　of　your　employer。　A　name　and　sufficient　proof　to　have　sealed　in　an　envelope　and　given　to　a　lawyer；　to　be　held　throughout　your　natural　life。　But　if　your　life　were　to　end　unnaturally；　even　accidentally；　he'd　be　instructed　to　open　the　envelope　and　reveal　the　contents。　It's　protection；　d'Anjou。'
　'I　see；'　said　the　Medusan　softly。　'But　you　say　men　watch　me；　follow　me。'
　'Cover　yourself；'　said　Jason。　'Tell　them　the　truth。　You've　got　a　number　to　call；　haven't　you？'
　'Yes；　there's　a　number；　a　man。'　The　older　man's　voice　rose　slightly　in　astonishment
　'Reach　him；　tell　him　exactly　what　I　said。。　except　for　the　exchange；　of　course。　Say　I　contacted　you；　want　a　meeting　with　you。　It's　to　be　outside　the　Louvre　in　an　hour。　The　truth。'
　'You're　insane。'
　'I　know　what　I'm　doing。'
　'You　usually　did。。。　You're　creating　your　own　trap；　mounting　your　own　execution。'
　'In　which　event　you　may　be　amply　rewarded。〃
　'Or　executed　myself；　if　what　you　say　is　so。'
　'Let's　find　out　if　it　is。　I'll　make　contact　with　you　one　way　or　another；　take　my　word　for　it。　They　have　my　photographs；　they'll　know　it　when　I　do。　Better　a　controlled　situation　than　one　in　which　there's　no　control　at　all。'
　'Now　I　hear　Delta；'　said　d'Anjou。　'He　doesn't　create　his　own　trap；　he　doesn't　walk　in　front　of　a　firing　squad　and　ask　for　a　blindfold。'
　'No；　he　doesn't；'　agreed　Bourne。　'You　don't　have　a　choice；　d'Anjou。　One　hour。　Outside　the　Louvre。'
　The　success　of　any　trap　lies　in　its　fundamental　simplicity。　The　reverse　trap　by　the　nature　of　its　single　plication　must　be　swift　and　simpler　still。
　The　words　came　to　him　as　he　waited　in　the　taxi　in　Saint…Honoreee；　down　the　street　from　Les　Classiques。　He　had　asked　the　driver　to　take　him　round　the　block　twice；　an　American　tourist　whose　wife　was　shopping　in　the　strip　of　haute　couture。　Sooner　or　later　she　would　emerge　from　one　of　the　stores　and　he　would　find　her。
　What　he　found　was　Carlos's　surveillance。　The　rubber…capped　antenna　on　the　black　saloon　was　both　the　proof　and　the　danger　signal。　He　would　feel　more　secure　if　that　radio　transmitter　were　shorted　out；　but　there　was　no　way　to　do　it。　The　alternative　was　misinformation。　Some　time　during　the　next　forty…five　minutes　Jason　would　do　his　best　to　make　sure　the　wrong　message　was　sent　over　that　radio。　From　his　concealed　position　in　the　back　seat；　he　studied　the　two　men　in　the　car　across　the　way。　If　there　was　anything　that　set　them　apart　from　a　hundred　other　men　like　them　in　Saint…Honoreee；　it　was　the　fact　that　they　did　not　talk。
　Philippe　d'Anjou　walked　out　onto　the　pavement；　a　grey　Homburg　covering　his　grey　hair。　His　glances　swept　the　street；　telling　Bourne　that　the　former　Medusan　had　covered　himself。　He　had　called　a　number；　he　had　relayed　his　startling　information；　he　knew　there　were　men　in　a　car　prepared　to　follow　him。
　A　taxi；　apparently　ordered　by　phone；　pulled　up　to　the　kerb。　D'Anjou　spoke　to　the　driver　and　climbed　inside。　Across　the　street　an　antenna　rose　ominously　out　of　its　cradle；　the　hunt　was　on。
　The　saloon　pulled　out　after　d'Anjou's　taxi；　it　was　the　confirmation　Jason　needed。　He　leaned　forward　and　spoke　to　the　driver。　'I　forgot；'　he　said　irritably。　'She　said　it　was　the　Louvre　this　morning；　shopping　this　afternoon。　Christ；　I'm　a　half　an　hour　late。　Take　me　to　the　Louvre；　will　you　please？'
　'Mais　out；　monsieur；　le　Louvre。'
　Twice　during　the　short　ride　to　the　monumental　facade　that　overlooked　the　Seine；　Jason's　taxi　passed　the　black　saloon；　only　to　be　subsequently　passed　by　it。　The　proximity　gave　Bourne　the　opportunity　to　see　exactly　what　he　needed　to　see。　The　man　beside　the　driver　spoke　repeatedly　into　the　hand…held　radio　microphone。　Carlos　was　making　sure　the　trap　had　no　loose　spikes；　others　were　closing　in　on　the　execution　ground。
　They　came　to　the　enormous　entrance　of　the　Louvre。　'Pull　in　behind　those　other　taxis；'　said　Jason。
　'But　they　wait　for　fares。　Monsieur。　I　have　a　fare；　you　are　my　fare。　I　will　take　you　to　the。。。'
　'Just　do　as　I　say；'　said　Bourne　dropping　fifty　francs　over　the　seat。
　The　driver　swerved　into　the　line。　The　black　saloon　was　twenty　yards　away　on　the　right；　the　man　on　the　radio　had　turned　in　the　seat　and　was　looking　out　of　the　left　rear　window。　Jason　followed　his　gaze　and　saw　what　he　thought　he　might　see。　Several　hundred　feet　to　the　west　in　the　huge　square　was　a　grey　car；　the　car　that　had　followed　Jacqueline　Lavier　and　Villiers's　wife　to　the　Church　of　the　Blessed　Sacrament；　and　sped　the　latter　away　from　Neuilly…sur…Seine　after　she　had　escorted　Lavier　to　her　final　confession。　Its　antenna　could　be　seen　retracting　down　into　its　base。　Over　on　the　right；　Carlos's　soldier　no　longer　held　the　microphone。　The　black　saloon's　antenna　was　also　receding；　contact　had　been　made；　visual　sighting　confirmed　Four　men。　These　were　Carlos's　executioners。
　Bourne　concentrated　on　the　crowds　in　front　of　the　Louvre　entrance；　spotting　the　elegantly　dressed　d'Anjou　instantly。　He　was　pacing　slowly；　cautiously；　back　and　forth　by　the　large　block　of　white　granite　that　flanked　the　marble　steps　on　the　left。　Now。　It　was　time　to　send　the　misinformation。　'Pull　out；'　ordered　Jason。　'What；　Monsieur？〃
　Two　hundred　francs　if　you　do　exactly　what　I　tell　you。　Pull　out　and　go　to　the　front　of　the　line；　then　make　two　left　turns；　heading　back　to　the　next　aisle。'　'I　don't　understand；　Monsieur！'　'You　don't　have　to。　Three　hundred　francs。'　The　driver　swung　right　and　proceeded　to　the　head　of　the　line；　where　he　spun　the　wheel；　sending　the　taxi　to　the　left　towards　the　row　of　parked　cars。　Bourne　pulled　the　automatic　from　his　belt；　keeping　it　between　his　knees；　and　checked　the　silencer；　twisting　the　cylinder　taut。
　'Where　do　you　wish　to　go；　Monsieur？'　asked　the　bewildered　driver　as　they　entered　the　aisle　leading　back　towards　the　entrance　to　the　Louvre。
　'Slow　down！'　said　Jason。　That　large　grey　car　up　ahead；　the　one　pointing　to　the　Seine　exit　Do　you　see　it？'　'But；　of　course。〃
　'Go　around　it　slowly；　to　the　right。'　Bourne　slid　over　to　the　left　side　of　the　seat　and　rolled　down　the　window；　keeping　his　head　and　the　weapon　concealed。　He　would　show　both　in　a　matter　of　seconds。
　The　taxi　approached　the　saloon's　boot；　the　driver　spinning　the　wheel　again。　They　were　parallel。　Jason　thrust　his　head　and　his　gun　into　view。　He　aimed　for　the　grey　car's　right　rear　window　and　fired；　five　spits　ing　one　after　another；　shattering　the　glass；　stunning　the　two　men　who　screamed　at　each　other；　lurching　below　the　window　frames　to　the　floor　of　the　front　seat　But　they　had　seen　him。　That　was　the　misinformation。
　'Get　out　of　here！'　yelled　Bourne　to　the　terrified　driver；　as　he　threw　three　hundred　francs　over　the　seat　and　wedged　his　soft　felt　hat　into　the　well　of　the　rear　window。　The　taxi　shot　ahead　towards　the　stone　gates　of　the　Louvre。　Now。
　Jason　slid　back　across　the　seat；　opened　the　door；　and　rolled　out　on　to　the　cobblestone　pavement；　shouting　his　last　instructions　to　the　driver。　'If　you　want　to　stay　alive；　get　out　of　here！'
　The　taxi　exploded　forward；　engine　gunning；　driver　screaming。　Bourne　dived　between　two　parked　cars；　now　bidden　from　the　grey　saloon；　and　got　up　slowly；　peering　between　the　windows。　Carlos's　men　were　quick；　professional；　losing　no　moment　in　the　pursuit。　They　had　the　taxi　in　view；　the　cab　no　match　for　the　powerful　saloon；　and　in　that　taxi　was　the　target　The　man　behind　the　wheel　pulled　the　car　into　gear　and　raced　ahead　as　his　panion　held　the