rl.thebourneultimatum-第134节

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！


　Bourne　once　more　walked　silently；　now　retracing　his　steps　up　the　hallway。　He　reached　a　point　roughly　thirty　paces　away　from　the　eighth　door　on　the　left　and　turned　around；　suddenly　aware　of　a　muted　chorus　of　sporadic　sobs　and　cries　that　came　from　closed　doorways　along　the　hotel　corridor。　Orders　had　been　given　couched　in　language　far　removed　from　Krupkin's　instructions：　Stay　inside　your　rooms；　please。　Admit　no　one。　Our　people　are　investigating。　It　was　always　〃our　people；〃　never　〃the　police；〃　never　〃the　authorities〃；　with　those　names　came　panic。　And　panic　was　precisely　what　Medusa's　Delta　One　had　in　mind。　Panic　and　diversion；　eternal　ponents　for　the　human　snare；　lifelong　allies　in　the　springing　trap。
　He　raised　the　Graz　Burya　automatic；　aiming　at　one　of　the　ornate　hallway　chandeliers；　and　fired　twice；　simultaneously　shouting　furiously　as　the　earsplitting　explosions　acpanied　the　shattered　glass　that　plummeted　from　the　ceiling。　〃There　he　goes！　A　black　suit！〃　His　feet　pounding；　Bourne　ran　with　loud　emphatic　strides　down　the　corridor　to　the　eighth　door　on　the　left；　then　past　the　door；　shouting　once　again。　〃The　exit　。。。　the　exit！〃　He　abruptly　stopped；　firing　a　third　shot　into　another　chandelier；　the　jarring　cacophony　covering　the　absent　noise　of　his　pounding　feet　as　he　spun　around；　throwing　his　back　against　the　opposing　wall　of　the　eighth　door；　then　pushing　himself　away；　hurling　his　body　at　the　door　and　crashing　into　it；　smashing　it　off　its　hinges　as　he。　lurched　inside；　plunging　to　the　floor；　his　weapon　raised；　prepared　for　rapid　fire。
　He　was　wrong！　He　knew　it　instantly…a　final　reverse　trap　was　in　the　making！　He　heard　another　door　opening　somewhere　outside…he　either　heard　it　or　he　instinctively　knew　it！　He　rolled　furiously　to　his　right；　over　and　over　again；　his　legs　crashing　into　a　floor　lamp；　sending　it　toward　the　door；　his　panicked　darting　eyes　catching　a　glimpse　of　an　elderly　couple　clutching　each　other；　crouching　in　a　far　corner。
　The　white…gowned　figure　burst　into　the　room；　his　automatic　pistol　spitting　indiscriminately；　the　staccato　reports　deafening。　Bourne　fired　repeatedly　into　the　mass　of　white　as　he　sprang　into　the　left　wall；　knowing　that　if　for　only　a　split　second　he　was　positioned　on　the　killer's　blind　right　flank。　It　was　enough！
　The　Jackal　was　caught　in　his　shoulder…his　right　shoulder！　The　weapon　literally　snapped　out　of　his　grip　as　he　jerked　up　his　forearm；　his　fingers　spastically　uncurled　under　the　impact　of　the　Graz　Burya's　penetration。　With　no　cessation　of　movement；　the　Jackal　swung　around；　the　bloody　long　white　robe　separating；　billowing　like　a　sail　as　he　grabbed　the　massive　flesh　wound　with　his　left　hand　and　violently　kicked　the　floor　lamp　into　Jason's　face。
　Bourne　fired　again；　half　blinded　by　the　flying　shade　of　the　heavy　lamp；　his　weapon　deflected　by　the　thick　stem。　The　shot　went　wild；　steadying　his　hand；　he　squeezed　the　trigger　again；　only　to　hear　the　sickening　finality　of　a　sharp　metallic　click…the　gun's　magazine　was　empty！　Struggling　to　a　crouch；　he　lunged　for　the　blunt；　ugly　automatic　weapon　as　the　white…robed　Carlos　raced　through　the　shattered　doorway　into　the　corridor。　Jason　got　to　his　feet；　but　his　knee　collapsed！　It　had　buckled　under　his　own　weight。　Oh；　Christ！　He　crawled　to　the　edge　of　the　bed　and　dived　over　the　pulled…down　sheets　toward　the　bedside　telephone…it　had　been　demolished；　the　Jackal　had　shot　it　apart！　Carlos's　demented　mind　was　summoning　up　every　tactic；　every　counteraction　he　had　ever　used。
　Another　sound！　This　loud　and　abrupt。　The　crash　bar　on　the　hallway's　stairway　exit　had　been　slammed　into　the　opening　position；　the　heavy　metal　door　smashed　back　into　the　concrete　wall　of　the　landing。　The　Jackal　was　heading　down　the　flights　of　steps　to　the　lobby。　If　the　front　desk　had　listened　to　Conklin；　he　was　trapped！
　Bourne　looked　at　the　elderly　couple　in　the　corner；　affected　by　the　fact　that　the　old　man　was　covering　the　woman　with　his　own　body。　〃It's　all　right；〃　he。　said；　trying　to　calm　them　by　lowering　his　voice。　〃I　know　you　probably　don't　understand　me…I　don't　speak　Russian…but　you're　safe　now。〃
　〃We　don't　speak　Russian　either；〃　admitted　the　man；　an　Englishman；　in　clipped；　guarded　tones；　straining　his　neck　as　he　looked　at　Jason　while　trying　to　rise。　〃Thirty　years　ago　I　would　have　been　standing　at　that　door！　Eighth　Army　with　Monty；　y'know。　Rather　grand　at　El　Alamein…all　of　us；　of　course。　To　paraphrase；　age　doth　wither；　as　they　say。〃
　〃I'd　rather　not　hear　it；　General…〃
　〃No；　no；　merely　a　brigadier…〃
　〃Fine！〃　Bourne　crept　over　the　bed；　testing　his　knee；　whatever　it　was　had　snapped　back。　〃I　have　to　get　to　a　phone！〃
　〃Actually；　what　outraged　me　was　the　goddamned　robe！〃　went　on　the　veteran　of　El　Alamein。　〃Fucking　disgraceful；　I　say…forgive　me；　darling。〃
　〃What　are　you　talking　about？〃
　〃The　white　robe；　lad！　It　had　to　be　Binky's…the　couple　across　the　hall　we're　traveling　with…he　must　have　copped　it　from　that　lovely　Beau…Rivage　in　Lausanne。　The　rotten　theft　is　bad　enough；　but　to　have　given　it　to　that　swine　is　unforgivable！〃
　In　seconds；　Jason　had　grabbed　the　Jackal's　weapon　and　crashed　his　way　into　the　room　across　the　hall；　immediately　knowing　that　〃Binky〃　deserved　more　admiration　than　the　brigadier　afforded　him。　He　lay　on　the　floor　bleeding　from　knife　wounds　across　his　stomach　and　throat。
　〃I　can't　reach　anyone！〃　screamed　the　woman　with　thinning　gray　hair；　she　was　on　her　knees　above　the　victim；　weeping　hysterically。　〃He　fought　like　a　madman…somehow　he　knew　that　priest　wouldn't　fire　his　gun！〃
　〃Hold　the　skin　together　wherever　you　can；〃　yelled　Bourne；　looking　over　at　the　telephone。　It　was　intact！　He　ran　to　it；　and　instead　of　calling　the　front　desk　or　the　operator；　he　dialed　the　numbers　for　the　suite。
　〃Krupkin？〃　cried　Alex。
　〃No；　me！　First：　Carlos　is　on　the　staircase…the　hallway　I　went　into！　Second：　a　man's　cut　up；　same　hallway；　seventh　door　on　the　right！　Hurry。〃
　〃As　fast　as　I　can。　I've　got　a　clear　line　to　the　office。〃
　〃Where　the　hell　is　the　KGB　team？〃
　〃They　just　got　here。　Krupkin　called　only　seconds　ago　from　the　lobby…it's　why　I　thought　you　were…〃
　〃I'm　going　to　the　staircase！〃
　〃For　God's　sake；　why？〃
　〃Because　he's　mine！〃
　Jason　raced　to　the　door；　offering　no　words　of　fort　for　the　hysterical　wife；　he　could　not　summon　them。　He　crashed　his　way　through　the　exit　door；　the　Jackal's　weapon　in　his　hand。　He　started　down　the　staircase；　suddenly　hearing　the　sound　of　his　own　shoes；　he　stopped　on　the　seventh　step　and　removed　both；　and　then　his　ankle…length　socks。　The　cool　surface　of　the　stone　on　his　feet　somehow　reminded　him　of　the　jungles；　flesh　against　the　cold　morning　underbrush；　for　some　abstract；　foolish　memory　he　felt　more　in　mand　of　his　fears…the　jungles　were　always　the　friend　of　Delta　One。
　Floor　by　floor　he　descended；　following　the　inevitable　rivulets　of　blood；　larger　now；　no　longer　to　be　stemmed；　for　the　last　wound　was　too　severe　to　stop　by　exerting　pressure。　Twice　the　Jackal　had　applied　such　pressure；　once　at　the　fifth…floor　and　again　at　the　third…floor　hallway　doors；　only　to　be　followed　by　streaks　of　dark　red；　as　he　could　not　manipulate　the　exterior　locks　without　the　security　keys。
　The　second　floor；　then　the　first；　there　were　no　more！　Carlos　was　trapped！　Somewhere　in　the　shadows　below　was　the　death　of　the　killer　who　would　set　him　free！　Silently；　Bourne　removed　a　book　of　Metropole　matches　from　his　pocket；　he　huddled　against　the　concrete　wall；　tore　out　a　single　match　and；　cupping　his　hands；　fired　the　packet。　He　threw　it　over　the　railing；　the　weapon　in　his　hand　ready　to　explode　with　continuous　rounds　of　bullets　at　anything　that　moved　below！
　There　was　nothing…nothing！　The　cement　floor　was　empty…there　was　no　one　there！　Impossible！　Jason　raced　down　the　last　flight　of　steps　and　pounded　on　the　door　to　the　lobby。
　〃Shto？〃　yelled　a　Russian　inside。　〃Kto　tam？〃
　〃I'm　an　American！　I'm　working　with　the　KGB！　Let　me　in！〃
　〃Shto　。。。　？〃
　〃I　understand；〃　shouted　another　voice。　〃And；　please；　you　understand　that　many　guns　are　directed　at　you　when　I　open　the　door。　It　is　understand？〃
　〃Understand！〃　shouted　Bourne；　at　the　last　second　remembering　to　drop　Carlos's　weapon　on　the　concrete　floor。　The　door　opened。
　〃Da！〃　said　the　Soviet　police　officer；　instantly　correcting　himself　as　he　spotted　the　machine　pistol　at　Jason's　feet。　〃Nyet！〃　he　yelled。
　〃Nye　za　shto？〃　said　a　breathless　Krupkin；　urging　his　heavyset　body　forward。
　〃Pochemu？〃
　〃Komitet！〃
　〃Prekrasno。〃　The　policeman　nodded　obsequiously；　but　stayed　in　place。
　〃What　are　you　doing？〃　demanded　Krupkin。　〃The　lobby　is　cleared　and　our　assault　squad　is　in　place！〃
　〃He　was　here！〃　whispered　Bourne；　as　if　his　intense　quiet　voice　further　obscured　his　inprehensible　words。
　〃The　Jackal？〃　asked　Krupkin；　astonished。
　〃He　came　down　this　staircase！　He　couldn't　have　gone　out　on　any　other　floor。　Every　fire　door　is　dead…bolted　from　the　inside…only　the　crash　bars　release　them。〃
　〃Skazhi；〃　said　the　KGB　official　to　the　hotel　guard；　speaking　in　Russian。　〃Has　anyone　e　through　this　door　within　the　past　ten　minutes　since　the　orders　were　given　to　seal　them　off？〃
　〃No；　sir！〃　replied　the　mititsiya。　〃Only　a　hysterical　woman　in　a　soiled　bathrobe。　In　her　panic；　she　fell　in　the　bathroom　and　cut　herself。　We　thought　she　might　have