rl.thebourneidentity-第17部分

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ease　I'
　Jason　pushed　the　woman　forward；　in　front　of　the　figures　standing　by　the　back　wall；　behind　the　last　row　of　chairs。　He　tried　to　judge　the　size　of　the　lecture　hall；　looking　for　a　red　light　that　could　mean　escape。　He　saw　it！　A　faint　reddish　glow　in　the　distance。　On　the　stage；　behind　the　screen。　There　were　no　other　exits；　no　other　doors　but　the　entrance　to　Suite　Seven。　He　had　to　reach　it；　he　had　to　get　them　to　that　exit。　On　that　stage。
　'Marie！　Id！'　The　whisper　came　from　their　left；　from　a　seat　in　the　back　row。
　'Non；　ma　cherie！　Je　suis　tout　pres。'　The　second　whisper　was　delivered　by　the　shadowed　figure　of　a　man　standing　directly　in　front　of　Marie　St　Jacques。　He　had　stepped　away　from　the　wall；　intercepting　her。
　Bourne　pressed　the　gun　firmly　into　the　woman's　rib　cage；　its　message　unmistakable。　She　whispered　without　breathing；　Jason　grateful　that　her　face　could　not　be　seen　clearly。　'Please；　let　us　by；'　she　said　in　French。　'Please。'
　'What's　this？　Is　he　your　cablegram；　my　dear？！
　'An　old　friend；'　whispered　Bourne。
　A　shout　rose　over　the　increasingly　louder　hum　from　the　audience。　'May　I　please　have　Slide　Twelve！　Per　cortesia！'
　'We　have　to　see　someone　at　the　end　of　the　row；'　continued　Jason；　looking　behind　him。　The　right…hand　door　of　the　entrance　opened；　in　the　middle　of　a　shadowed　face；　a　pair　of　gold…rimmed　glasses　reflected　the　dim　light　of　the　corridor。　Bourne　edged　the　girl　past　her　bewildered　friend；　forcing　him　back　into　the　wall；　whispering　an　apology。
　'Sorry；　but　we're　in　a　hurry！'
　'You're　damned　rude；　too！！
　'Yes；　I　know。'
　'Slide　Twelve！　Che　cosa！　Impossibile！
　The　beam　of　light　shot　out　from　the　projector；　it　vibrated　under　the　nervous　hand　of　the　operator。　Another　graph　appeared　on　the　screen　as　Jason　and　the　woman　reached　the　far　wall；　the　start　of　the　narrow　aisle　that　led　down　the　length　of　the　hall　to　the　stage。　He　pushed　her　into　the　corner；　pressing　his　body　against　hers；　his　face　against　her　face。
　I'll　scream'　she　whispered。
　'I'll　shoot；'　he　said。　He　peered　around　the　figures　leaning　against　the　wall；　the　killers　were　both　inside；　both　squinting；　shifting　their　heads　like　alarmed　rodents；　trying　to　spot　their　target　among　the　rows　of　faces。
　The　voice　of　the　lecturer　rose　like　the　ringing　of　a　cracked　bell；　his　diatribe　brief　but　strident。　'Ecco！　For　the　sceptics　I　address　here　this　evening　…　and　that　is　most　of　you　…　here　is　statistical　proof　I　Identical　in　substance　to　a　hundred　other　analyses　I　have　prepared。　Leave　the　marketplace　to　those　who　live　there。　Minor　excesses　can　always　be　found。　They　are　a　small　price　to　pay　for　the　general　good。'
　There　was　a　scattering　of　applause；　the　approval　of　a　definite　minority。　Bertinelli　resumed　a　normal　tone　and　droned　on；　his　long　pointed　stabbing　at　the　screen　emphasizing　the　obvious　…his　obvious。　Jason　leaned　back　again；　the　gold　spectacles　glistened　in　the　harsh　glare　of　the　projector's　side　light；　the　killer　who　wore　them　touching　his　panion's　arm；　nodding　to　his　left；　ordering　his　subordinate　to　continue　the　search　on　the　left　side　of　the　room；　he　would　take　the　right。　He　began；　the　gold　rims　growing　brighter　as　he　sidestepped　his　way　in　front　of　those　standing；　studying　each　face。　He　would　reach　the　corner；　reach　them；　in　a　matter　of　seconds。　Stopping　the　killer　with　a　gunshot　was　all　that　was　left；　and　if　someone　along　the　row　of　those　standing　moved；　or　if　the　woman　he　had　pressed　against　the　wall　went　into　panic　and　shoved　him。。。　or　if　he　missed　the　killer　for　any　number　of　reasons；　he　was　trapped。　And　even　if　he　hit　the　man；　there　was　another　killer　across　the　room；　certainly　a　marksman。
　'Slide　Thirteen；　if　you　please。'
　That　was　it。　Now！
　The　shaft　of　light　went　out。　In　the　blackout；　Bourne　pulled　the　woman　from　the　wall；　spun　her　in　her　place；　his　face　against　hers。　'If　you　make　a　sound；　I'll　kill　you！'
　'I　believe　you；'　she　whispered；　terrified。　〃You're　a　maniac。'
　'Let's　go！'　He　pushed　her　down　the　narrow　aisle　that　led　to　the　stage　fifty　feet　away。　The　projector's　light　went　on　again；　he　grabbed　the　girl's　neck；　forcing　her　down　into　a　kneeling　position　as　he；　too；　knelt　down　behind　her。　They　were　concealed　from　the　killers　by　the　rows　of　bodies　sitting　in　the　chairs。　He　pressed　her　flesh　with　his　fingers；　it　was　his　signal　to　keep　moving；　crawling。。。　slowly；　keeping　down；　but　moving。　She　understood；　she　started　forward　on　her　knees；　trembling。
　The　conclusions　of　this　phase　are　irrefutable；'　cried　the　lecturer。　The　profit　motive　is　inseparable　from　productivity　incentive；　but　the　adversary　roles　can　never　be　equal。　As　Socrates　understood；　the　inequality　of　values　is　constant。　Gold　simply　is　not　brass　or　iron；　who　among　you　can　deny　it？　Slide　Fourteen；　if　you　please！'
　The　darkness　again。　Now。
　He　yanked　the　woman　up；　pushing　her　forward；　towards　the　stage。　They　were　within　three　feet　of　the　edge。
　'Che　cosa？　What　is　the　matter；　please？　Slide　Fourteen？
　It　had　happened！　The　projector　was　jammed　again；　the　darkness　was　extended　again。　And　there　on　the　stage　in　front　of　them；　above　them；　was　the　red　glow　of　the　exit　sign。　Jason　gripped　the　girl's　arm　viciously。　'Get　up　on　that　stage　and　run　to　the　exit！　I'm　right　behind　you；　you　stop　or　cry　out；　I'll　shoot。'
　'For　God's　sake；　let　me　go！'
　'Not　yet。〃　He　meant　it；　there　was　another　exit　somewhere；　men　waiting　outside　for　the　target　from　Marseilles。　'Go　on！　Now。'
　The　St　Jacques　woman　got　to　her　feet　and　ran　to　the　stage。　Bourne　lifted　her　off　the　floor；　over　the　edge；　leaping　up　as　he　did　so；　pulling　her　to　her　feet　again。
　The　blinding　light　of　the　projector　shot　out；　flooding　the　screen；　washing　the　stage。　Cries　of　surprise　and　derision　came　from　the　audience　at　the　sight　of　the　two　figures；　the　shouts　of　the　indignant　Bertinelli　heard　over　the　din。
　Affronte！　Insultante！　Ecco；　unisti！'
　And　there　were　other　sounds　…　three　…　lethal；　sharp；　sudden。　Cracks　of　a　muted　weapon　…　weapons；　wood　splintered　on　the　moulding　of　the　proscenium　arch。　Jason　hammered　the　girl　down　and　lunged　towards　the　shadows　of　the　narrow　wing　space；　pulling　her　behind　him。
　'Da　ist　err
　'Der　Projektionsapparat！'
　A　scream　came　from　the　centre　aisle　of　the　hall　as　the　light　of　the　projector　swung　to　the　right；　spilling　into　the　wings　…　but　not　pletely。　Its　beam　was　intercepted　by　receding　upright　flats　that　masked　the　offstage　area；　light；　shadow；　light；　shadow。　And　at　the　end　of　the　flats；　at　the　rear　of　the　stage；　was　the　exit。　A　high；　wide　metal　door　with　a　crush　bar　against　it。
　Glass　shattered；　the　red　light　exploded；　a　marksman's　bullet　blew　out　the　sign　above　the　door。　It　did　not　matter；　he　could　see　the　gleaming　brass　of　the　crush　bar　clearly。
　The　lecture　hall　had　broken　out　in　pandemonium。　Bourne　grabbed　the　woman　by　the　cloth　of　her　blouse；　yanking　her　beyond　the　flats　towards　the　door。　For　an　instant；　she　resisted；　he　slapped　her　across　the　face　and　dragged　her　beside　him　until　the　crush　bar　was　above　their　heads。
　Bullets　spat　into　the　wall　to　their　right；　the　killers　were　racing　down　the　aisles　for　accurate　sightlines　They　would　reach　them　in　seconds；　and　in　seconds　other　bullets；　or　a　single　bullet；　would　find　its　mark。　There　were　enough　shells　left；　he　knew　that。　He　had　no　idea　how　or　why　he　knew；　but　he　knew。　By　sound　he　could　visualize　the　weapons；　extract　the　clips；　count　the　shells。
　He　smashed　his　forearm　into　the　crush　bar　of　the　exit　door。　It　flew　open　and　he　lunged　through　the　opening；　dragging　the　kicking　St　Jacques　woman　with　him。
　'Stop　it！'　she　screamed。　'I　won't　go　any　farther！　You're　insane！　Those　were　gunshots！'
　Jason　slammed　the　large　metal　door　shut　with　his　foot。　'Get　up！'
　No！'
　He　lashed　the　back　of　his　hand　across　her　face；　'Sorry；　but　you're　ing　with　me。　Get　up　I　Once　we're　outside；　you　have　my　word。　I'll　let　you　go。'　But　where　was　he　going　now？　They　were　in　another　tunnel；　but　there　was　no　carpet；　no　polished　doors　with　lighted　signs　above　them。　They　were。。。　in　some　kind　of　deserted　loading　area；　the　floor　was　concrete；　and　there　were　two；　pipe…framed　freight　dollies　next　to　him　against　the　wall。　He　had　been　right：　exhibits　used　on　the　stage　of　Suite　Seven　had　to　be　brought　in　by　lorry；　the　exit　door　high