rl.thebourneidentity-第68部分

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ut　Lex　and　Seventy…second？'　'Is　that　two　blocks？'　'No　more　than　three。'　'If　it's　three　you're　a　private。'
　Then　I　couldn't　pick　you　up　later；　Major。　Privates　aren't　cleared　for　this　duty。'
　'Whatever　you　say；　Captain。'　Webb　closed　his　eyes。　After　two　years；　he　was　about　to　see　Treadstone　Seventy…one　for　himself。　He　knew　he　should　feel　a　sense　of　anticipation；　he　did　not。　He　felt　only　a　sense　of　weariness；　of　futility。　What　had　happened？
　The　incessant　hum　of　the　tyres　on　the　tarmac　below　was　hypnotic；　but　the　rhythm　was　broken　by　sharp　intrusions　where　concrete　and　wheels　were　not　patible。　The　sounds　evoked　memories　of　long　ago；　of　screeching　jungle　noises　woven　into　a　single　tone。　And　then　the　night　…　that　night　…　when　blinding　lights　and　staccato　explosions　were　all　around　him；　telling　him　he　was　about　to　die。　But　he　did　not　die；　a　miracle　wrought　by　a　man　had　given　his　life　back　to　him。。。　and　the　years　went　on；　that　night；　those　days　never　to　be　forgotten。　What　the　hell　had　happened？
　'Here　we　are；　Major。'
　Webb　opened　his　eyes；　his　hand　wiping　the　sweat　that　had　formed　on　his　forehead。　He　looked　at　his　watch；　gripped　his　briefcase　and　reached　for　the　handle　of　the　door。
　I'll　be　here　between　twenty…three…hundred　and　twenty…three…thirty　hours。　Sergeant。　If　you　can't　park；　just　cruise　around　and　I'll　find　you。〃
　'Yes；　sir。'　The　driver　turned　in　his　seat。　'Could　the　major　tell　me　if　we're　going　to　be　driving　any　distance　later？'
　'Why？　Have　you　got　another　fare？'
　'e　on；　sir。　I'm　assigned　to　you　until　you　say　otherwise；　you　know　that。　But　these　heavy…plated　trucks　use　gas　like　the　old…time　Shermans。　If　we're　going　far　I'd　better　fill　it。〃
　'Sorry。'　The　major　paused。　'Okay。　You'll　have　to　find　out　where　it　is；　anyway；　because　I　don't　know。　We're　going　to　a　private　airfield　in　Madison；　New　Jersey。　I　have　to　be　there　no　later　than　one…hundred　hours。'
　'I've　got　a　vague　idea；'　said　the　driver。　'At　twenty…three…thirty；　you're　cutting　it　pretty　close；　sir。'
　'Twenty…three…hundred；　then。　And　thanks。'　Webb　got　out　of　the　car；　closed　the　door；　and　waited　until　the　brown　vehicle　entered　the　flow　of　traffic　on　Seventy…second　Street　He　stepped　off　the　kerb　and　headed　south　to　Seventy…first。
　Four　minutes　later　he　stood　in　front　of　a　well…kept　brownstone　house；　its　muted；　rich　design　in　concert　with　those　around　it　in　the　tree…lined　street。　It　was　a　quiet　street；　a　monied　street　…old　money。　It　was　the　last　place　in　Manhattan　a　person　would　suspect　of　housing　one　of　the　most　sensitive　intelligence　operations　in　the　country。　And　as　of　twenty　minutes　ago；　Major　Gordon　Webb　was　one　of　only　eight　or　ten　people　in　the　country　who　knew　of　its　existence。
　Treadstone　Seventy…one。
　He　climbed　the　steps；　aware　that　the　pressure　of　his　weight　on　the　iron　grids　embedded　in　the　stone　beneath　him　triggered　electronic　devices　that　in　turn　activated　cameras；　producing　his　image　on　screens　inside。　Beyond　this；　he　knew　little；　except　that　Treadstone　Seventy…one　never　closed；　it　was　operated　and　monitored　twenty…four　hours　a　day　by　a　select　few；　identities　unknown。
　He　reached　the　top　step　and　rang　the　bell；　an　ordinary　bell；　but　not　for　an　ordinary　door；　the　major　could　see　that。　The　heavy　wood　was　riveted　to　a　steel　plate　behind　it；　the　decorative　iron　designs　in　actuality　the　rivets；　the　large　brass　knob　disguising　a　hot…plate　that　caused　a　series　of　steel　bolts　to　shoot　across　into　steel　receptacles　at　the　touch　of　a　human　hand　when　the　alarms　were　on。　Webb　glanced　up　at　the　windows。　Each　pane　of　glass；　he　knew；　was　an　inch　thick；　capable　of　withstanding　the　impact　of。30　calibre　shells。　Treadstone　Seventy…one　was　a　fortress。
　The　door　opened　and　the　major　involuntarily　smiled　at　the　figure　standing　there；　so　totally　out　of　place　did　she　seem。　She　was　a　petite；　elegant…looking；　grey…haired　woman　with　soft　aristocratic　features　and　a　bearing　that　bespoke　monied　gentility。　Her　voice　confirmed　the　appraisal；　it　was　mid…Atlantic；　refined　in　the　better　finishing　schools　and　at　innumerable　polo　matches。
　'How　good　of　you　to　drop　by；　Major。　Jeremy　wrote　us　that　you　might　Do　e　in。　It's　such　a　pleasure　to　see　you　again。'
　'It's　good　to　see　you　again；　too；'　replied　Webb；　stepping　into　the　tasteful　foyer；　finishing　his　statement　when　the　door　was　closed；　'but　I'm　not　sure　where　it　was　we　met　before。'
　The　woman　laughed。　'Oh；　we've　had　dinner　ever　so　many　times。'
　'With　Jeremy？'
　'Of　course。'
　'Who's　Jeremy？'
　'A　devoted　nephew　who's　also　your　devoted　friend。　Such　a　nice　young　man；　it's　a　pity　he　doesn't　exist。'　She　took　his　elbow　as　they　walked　down　a　long　hallway。　'It's　all　for　the　benefit　of　neighbours　who　might　be　strolling　by。。。　e　along　now；　they're　waiting。'
　They　passed　an　archway　that　led　to　a　large　living…room；　the　major　looked　inside。　There　was　a　grand　piano　by　the　front　windows；　harp　beside　it；　and　everywhere　…　on　the　piano　and　on　polished　tables　glistening　under　the　spill　of　subdued　lamps　were　silver…framed　photographs；　mementos　of　a　past　filled　with　wealth　and　grace。　Sailing　boats；　men　and　women　on　the　decks　of　ocean　liners；　several　military　portraits。。。　and　yes；　two　candid　shots　of　someone　mounted　for　a　polo　match。　It　was　a　room　that　belonged　in　a　brownstone　on　this　street。
　They　reached　the　end　of　the　hallway；　there　was　a　large　mahogany　door；　bas…relief　and　iron　ornamentation　part　of　its　design；　part　of　its　security。　If　there　was　an　infra…red　camera；　Webb　could　not　detect　the　whereabouts　of　the　lens。　The　grey…haired　woman　pressed　an　unseen　bell；　the　major　could　hear　a　slight　hum。
　'Your　friend　is　here；　gentlemen。　Stop　playing　poker　and　go　to　work。　Snap　to；　Jesuit。'
　'Jesuit？'　asked　Webb；　bewildered。
　'An　old　joke；'　replied　the　woman。　'It　goes　back　to　when　you　were　probably　playing　marbles　and　snarling　at　little　girls。'
　The　door　opened　and　the　aged　but　still　erect　figure　of　David　Abbott　was　revealed。　'Glad　to　see　you；　Major；'　said　the　one…time　Silent　Monk　of　Clandestine　Services；　extending　his　hand。
　'Good　to　be　here；　sir。'　Webb　shook　hands。　Another　elderly；　imposing…looking　man　came　up　beside　Abbott。
　'A　friend　of　Jeremy's；　no　doubt；'　said　the　man；　his　deep　voice　edged　with　humour。　'Dreadfully　sorry　time　precludes　proper　introductions；　young　fellow。　e　along；　Margaret。　There's　a　lovely　fire　upstairs。'　He　turned　to　Abbott　'You'll　let　me　know　when　you're　leaving；　David？'
　'Usual　time　for　me；　I　expect；'　replied　the　Monk。　I'll　show　these　two　how　to　ring　you。'
　It　was　then　that　Webb　realized　there　was　a　third　man　in　the　room；　he　was　standing　in　the　shadows　at　the　far　end；　and　the　major　recognized　him　…instantly。　He　was　Elliot　Stevens；　senior　aide　to　the　President　of　the　United　States　…　some　said　his　alter　ego。　He　was　in　his　early　forties；　slender；　wore　glasses　and　had　the　bearing　of　unpretentious　authority　about　him。
　'。。。　it'll　be　fine。'　The　imposing　older　man　who　had　not　found　time　to　introduce　himself　had　been　speaking；　Webb　had　not　heard　him；　his　attention　on　the　White　House　aide。　I'll　be　waiting。〃
　Till　next　time；'　continued　Abbott；　shifting　his　eyes　kindly　to　the　grey…haired　woman。　Thanks；　Sister　Meg。　Keep　your　habit　pressed　down。'　'You're　still　wicked；　Jesuit。'
　The　couple　left；　closing　the　door　behind　them。　Webb　stood　for　a　moment；　shaking　his　head　and　smiling。　The　man　and　woman　of　One…four…zero；　Seven…one　East　belonged　to　the　room　down　the　hall　just　as　that　room　belonged　in　the　brownstone；　all　a　part　of　the　quiet；　monied；　tree…lined　street。　'You've　known　them　a　long　time；　haven't　you？'
　'A　lifetime；　you　might　say；'　replied　Abbott。　'He　was　a　yachtsman　we　put　to　good　use　in　the　Adriatic　runs　for　Donovan's　operations　in　Yugoslavia。　Mikhailovich　once　said　he　sailed　on　sheer　nerve；　bending　the　worst　weather　to　his　will。。。　and　don't　let　Sister　Meg's　graciousness　fool　you。　She　was　one　of　Intrepid's　girls；　a　piranha　with　very　sharp　teeth。〃　'They're　quite　a　story。'
　〃It'll　never　be　told；'　said　Abbott；　closing　the　subject。　'I　want　you　to　meet　Elliot　Stevens。　I　don't　think　I　have　to　tell　you　who　he　is。　Webb；　Stevens。　Stevens；　Webb。'　…
　'That　sounds　like　a　law　firm；〃　said　Stevens　amiably　walking　across　the　room；　hand　extended。　'Nice　to　know　you；　Webb；　Have　a　good　trip？'
　'I　would　have　pr