rl.thebourneidentity-第28部分

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　his　subordinate。　'Put　him　inside。　Strip　him。　I　want　photographs　taken　of　him　naked　…　before　and　after　he　leaves　us。　You'll　find　a　great　deal　of　money　on　him；　I　want　him　holding　it。　I'll　drive。'　He　looked　again　at　Bourne。　'Carlos　will　get　the　first　print。　And　I　have　no　doubt　that　I'll　be　able　to　sell　the　others　quite　profitably　on　the　open　market。　Magazines　pay　outrageous　prices。'
　'Why　should　〃Carlos〃　believe　you？　Why　should　anyone　believe　you？　You　said　it：　no　one　knows　what　I　look　like。'
　I'll　be　covered。！　said　the　Swiss。　'Sufficient　unto　the　day。　Two　Zurich　bankers　will　step　forward　identifying　you　as　one　Jason　Bourne。　The　same　Jason　Bourne　who　met　the　excessively　rigid　standards　set　by　Swiss　law　for　the　release　of　a　numbered　account。　It　will　be　enough。〃　He　spoke　to　the　gunman。　'Hurry！　I　have　cables　to　send。　Debts　to　collect。'
　A　powerful　arm　shot　over　Bourne's　shoulder；　vicing　his　throat　in　a　hammer…lock。　The　barrel　of　a　gun　was　jolted　into　his　spine；　pain　spreading　throughout　his　chest　as　he　was　dragged　inside　the　car。　The　man　holding　him　was　a　professional；　even　without　his　wounds　it　would　have　been　impossible　to　break　the　grip。　The　gunman's　expertise；　however；　did　not　satisfy　the　bespectacled　leader　of　the　hunt。　He　climbed　behind　the　wheel　and　issued　another　mand。
　'Break　his　fingers；'　he　said。
　The　arm　lock　briefly　choked　off〃　Jason's　air　as　the　barrel　of　the　gun　crashed　down　repeatedly　on　his　hand　…　hands。　Instinctively；　Bourne　had　swung　his　left　hand　over　his　right；　protecting　it　As　the　blood　burst　from　the　back　of　his　left；　he
　twisted　his　fingers；　letting　it　flow　between　them　until　both　hands　were　covered。　He　choked　his　screams；　the　grip　lessened；　he　I　shouted。
　'My　hands！　They're　broken！'
　'Gut。'
　But　they　were　not　broken；　the　left　was　damaged　to　the　point　where　it　was　useless；　not　the　right。　He　moved　his　fingers　in　the　shadows；　his　hand　was　intact。
　The　car　sped　down　the　Steppdeckstrasse　and　swung　into　a　side　street；　heading　south。　Jason　collapsed　back　in　the　seat；　gasping。　The　gunman　tore　at　his　clothes；　ripping　his　shirt；　yanking　at　his　belt。　In　seconds　his　upper　body　would　be　naked；　passport；　papers；　cards；　money　no　longer　his；　all　the　items　intrinsic　to　his　escape　from　Zurich　taken　from　him。。　It　was　now　or　it　was　not　to　be。　He　screamed。
　'My　leg'。　My　goddamned　leg！'　He　lurched　forward；　his　right　hand　working　furiously　in　the　dark；　fumbling　under　the　cloth　of　his　trouser　leg。　He　felt　it。　The　handle　of　the　automatic。
　'Nein！　roared　the　professional　in　the　front。　〃Watch　him！'　He　knew；　it　was　instinctive　knowledge。
　It　was　also　too　late。　Bourne　held　the　gun　in　the　darkness　of　the　floor；　the　powerful　soldier　pushed　him　back。　He　fell　with　the　blow；　the　automatic　now　at　his　waist；　pointed　directly　at　his　attacker's　chest。
　He　fired　twice；　the　man　arched　backwards。　Jason　fired　again；　his　aim　sure；　the　heart　punctured；　the　man　fell　over　into　the　recessed　jump　seat。
　'Put　it　down'〃　yelled　Bourne；　swinging　the　automatic　over　the　rounded　edge　of　the　front　seat；　pressing　the　barrel　into　the　base　of　the　driver's　skull。　'Drop　it！'
　His　breathing　erratic；　the　killer　let　the　gun　fall。　'We　will　talk；'　he　said；　gripping　the　wheel。　'We　are　professionals。　We　will　talk'　The　large　automobile　lurched　forward；　gathering　speed；　the　driver　increasing　pressure　on　the　accelerator。
　'Slow　down！
　'What　is　your　answer？'　The　car　went　faster。　Ahead　were　the　headlights　of　traffic；　they　were　leaving　the　Steppdeckstrasse　district；　entering　the　busier　city　streets。　'You　want　to　get　out　of　Zurich；　I　can　get　you　out。　Without　me。　you　can't。　All　I　have　to　do　is　spin　the　wheel；　crash　into　the　pavement。　I　have　nothing　whatsoever　to　lose；　Herr　Bourne。　There　are　police　everywhere　up　ahead。　I　don't　think　you　want　the　police。'
　'We'll　talk；'　lied　Jason。　Everything　was　timing；　split…second　timing。　There　were　now　two　killers　in　a　speeding　enclosure　that　was　in　itself　a　trap。　Neither　killer　was　to　be　trusted；　both　knew　it。　One　had　to　make　use　of　that　extra　half…second　the　other　would　not　take。　Professionals。　'Put　on　the　brakes；'　said　Bourne。
　'Drop　your　gun　on　the　seat　next　to　mine。〃
　Jason　released　the　weapon。　It　fell　on　top　of　the　killer's；　the　ring　of　heavy　metal　proof　of　contact。　'Done。'
　The　killer　took　his　foot　off　the　accelerator；　transferring　it　to　the　brake。　He　applied　the　pressure　slowly；　then　in　short　stabs　so　that　the　large　automobile　pitched　back　and　forth。　The　jabs　on　the　pedal　would　bee　more　pronounced。　Bourne　understood　this。　It　was　part　of　the　driver's　strategy；　balance　a　factor　of　life　and　death。
　The　arrow　on　the　speedometer　swung　left：　30　kilometres；　18　kilometres；　9　kilometres。　They　had　nearly　stopped；　it　was　the　moment　for　the　extra　half…second　of　effort　…　balance　a　factor；　life　in　balance。
　Jason　grabbed　the　man　by　the　neck；　clawing　at　his　throat；　yanking　him　up　off　the　seat。　Then　he　raised　his　bloody　left　hand　and　thrust　it　forward；　smearing　the　area　of　the　killer's　eyes。　He　released　the　throat；　surging　his　right　hand　down　towards　the　guns　on　the　seat。　Bourne　gripped　a　handle；　shoving　the　killer's　hand　away；　the　man　screamed；　his　vision　blurred；　the　gun　out　of　reach。　Jason　lunged　across　the　man's　chest；　pushing　him　down　against　the　door；　elbowing　the　killer's　throat　with　his　left　arm；　grabbing　the　wheel　with　his　bloody　palm。　He　looked　up　through　the　windscreen　and　turned　the　wheel　to　the　right；　heading　the　car　towards　a　pyramid　of　rubbish　on　the　pavement。
　The　car　ploughed　into　the　mound　of　debris　…　a　huge；　somnambulant　insect　crawling　into　garbage；　its　appearance　belying　the　violence　taking　place　inside　its　shell。
　The　man　beneath　him　lunged　up；　rolling　on　the　seat。　Bourne　held　the　automatic　in　his　hand；　his　fingers　jabbing　for　the　open　space　of　the　trigger；　he　found　it　He　bent　his　wrist　and　fired。
　His　would…be　executioner　went　limp；　a　dark　red　hole　in　his。　forehead。
　In　the　street；　men　came　running　towards　what　must　have　looked　like　a　dangerously　careless　accident。　Jason　shoved　the　dead　body　across　the　seat；　and　climbed　over　behind　the　wheel。
　He　pushed　the　gearshift　into　reverse；　backed　awkwardly　out　of　the　debris；　over　the　kerb　and　into　the　street。　He　rolled　down　his　window；　calling　out　to　the　would…be　rescuers　as　they　approached。
　'Sorry！　Everything's　fine！　Just　a　little　too　much　to　drink！'
　The　small　band　of　concerned　citizens　broke　up　quickly；　a　few　making　gestures　of　admonition；　others　running　back　W　their　escorts　and　panions。　Bourne　breathed　deeply；　trying　to　control　the　involuntary　trembling　that　seized　his　entire　body。　He　pulled　the　gear　into　drive；　the　car　started　forward。　He　tried　to　picture　the　streets　of　Zurich　from　a　memory　that　would　not　serve　him。
　He　knew　vaguely　where　he　was　…　where　he　had　been　…　and　more　important；　he　knew　more　clearly　where　the　Guisan　Quai　was　in　relationship　to　the　Limmat。
　Mac　hen　Sie　mal　los！　Der　Guisan　Quai！
　Marie　St　Jacques　was　to　be　killed　on　the　Guisan　Quai；　her　body　thrown　into　the　river。　There　was　only　one　stretch　where　the　Guisan　and　the　Limmat　met：　it　was　at　the　mouth　of　Lake　Zurich；　at　the　base　of　the　western　shore。　Somewhere　in　an　empty　car　park　or　a　deserted　garden　overlooking　the　water；　a　short；　stocky　man　was　about　to　carry　out　an　execution　ordered　by　a　dead　man。　Perhaps　by　now　the　gun　had　been　fired；　or　a　knife　plunged　into　its　mark；　there　was　no　way　to　know；　but　Jason　knew　he　had　to　find　out。　Whoever　and　whatever　he　was；　he　could　not　walk　away　blindly。
　The　professional　in　him；　however；　demanded　that　he　swerve　into　the　dark　wide　alley　ahead。　There　were　two　dead　men　in　the　car；　they　were　a　risk　and　a　burden　he　could　not　tolerate。　The　precious　seconds　it　would　take　to　remove　them　could　avoid　the　danger　of　a　traffic　policeman　looking　through　the　windows　and　seeing　death。
　Thirty…two　seconds　was　his　guess；　it　had　taken　less　than　a　minute　to　pull　his　would…be　executioners　from　the　car。　He　looked　at　them　as　he　limped　around　the　bonnet　to　the　door。　They　were　curled　up　obscenely　next　to　each　other　against　a　filthy　brick　wall。　In　darkness。
　He　climbed　behind　the　wheel　and　backed　out　of　the　alley。
　Der　Guisan　Quai！
　He　reached　an　intersection；　the　traffic　light　red。　Lights。　On　the　left；　several　blocks　east；　be　could　se