rl.thebourneultimatum-第6节

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Rome；　Madrid　…　especially　Paris。　Someone's　got　to　know　something。　Where　is　Carlos　now？　Who　are　his　points　over　here？　He's　got　eyes　here　in　Washington；　and　whoever　they　are；　they　found　Panov　and　me！〃　The　former　field　officer　again　absently　gripped　his　cane；　staring　at　the　window。　〃Don't　you　see？〃　he　added　quietly；　as　if　talking　to　himself。　〃We　can't　let　it　happen。　Oh；　my　God；　we　can't　let　it　happen！〃
　Once　more　the　emotional　moment　passed　in　silence　as　the　men　of　the　Central　Intelligence　Agency　exchanged　glances。　It　was　as　though　a　consensus　had　been　reached　among　them　without　a　word　being　said；　three　pairs　of　eyes　fell　on　Casset。　He　nodded；　accepting　his　selection　as　the　one　closest　to　Conklin；　and　spoke。
　〃Alex；　I　agree　that　everything　points　to　Carlos；　but　before　we　start　spinning　our　wheels　in　Europe；　we　have　to　be　sure。　We　can't　afford　a　false　alarm　because　we'd　be　handing　the　Jackal　a　grail　he'd　have　to　go　after；　showing　him　how　vulnerable　we　were　where　Jason　Bourne　is　concerned。　From　what　you've　told　us；　Carlos　would　pick　up　on　a　long…dormant　operation　known　as　Treadstone　Seventy…one　if　only　because　none　of　our　agents　or　subagents　has　been　in　his　personal　neighborhood　for　over　a　decade。〃
　The　retired　Conklin　studied　Charles　Casset's　pensive　sharp…featured　face。　〃What　you're　saying　is　that　if　I'm　wrong　and　it　isn't　the　Jackal；　we're　ripping　open　a　thirteen…year…old　wound　and　presenting　him　with　an　irresistible　kill。〃
　〃I　guess　that's　what　I'm　saying。〃
　〃And　I　guess　that's　pretty　good　thinking；　Charlie。　。。。　I'm　operating　on　externals；　aren't　I？　They're　triggering　instincts；　but　they're　still　externals。〃
　〃I'd　trust　those　instincts　of　yours　far　more　than　I　would　any　polygraph…〃
　〃So　would　I；〃　interrupted　Valentino。　〃You　saved　our　personnel　in　five　or　six　sector　crises　when　all　the　indicators　said　you　were　wrong。　However；　Charlie's　got　a　legitimate　query。　Suppose　it　isn't　Carlos？　We　not　only　send　the　wrong　message　to　Europe；　but；　more　important；　we've　wasted　time。〃
　〃So　stay　out　of　Europe；〃　mused　Alex　softly；　again　as　if　to　himself。　〃At　least　for　now。　。。。　Go　after　the　bastards　here。　Draw　them　out。　Pull　them　in　and　break　them。　I'm　the　target；　so　let　them　e　after　me。〃
　〃That　would　entail　far　looser　protection　than　I　envisage　for　you　and　Dr。　Panov；　Mr。　Conklin；〃　said　the　director　firmly。
　〃Then　disenvisage；　sir。〃　Alex　looked　back　and　forth　at　Casset　and　Valentino；　suddenly　raising　his　voice。　〃We　can　do　it　if　you　two　will　listen　to　me　and　let　me　mount　it！〃
　〃We're　in　a　gray　area；〃　stated　Casset。　〃This　thing　may　be　foreign…oriented；　but　it's　domestic　turf。　The　Bureau　should　be　brought　in…〃
　〃No　way；〃　exclaimed　Conklin。　〃Nobody's　brought　in　outside　of　this　room！〃
　〃e　on；　Alex；〃　said　Valentino　kindly；　slowly　shaking　his　head。　〃You're　retired。　You　can't　give　orders　here。〃
　〃Good；　fine！〃　shouted　Conklin；　awkwardly　getting　out　of　the　chair　and　supporting　himself　on　his　cane。　〃Next　stop　the　White　House；　to　a　certain　chairman　of　the　NSA　named　McAllister！〃
　〃Sit　down；〃　said　the　DCI　firmly。
　〃I'm　retired！　You　can't　give　orders　to　me。〃
　〃I　wouldn't　dream　of　it；　I'm　simply　concerned　for　your　life。　As　I　read　the　scenario；　what　you're　suggesting　is　based　on　the　questionable　supposition　that　whoever　fired　at　you　last　night　in　tended　to　miss；　not　caring　whom　he　hit；　only　determined　to　take　you　alive　during　the　subsequent　chaos。〃
　〃That's　a　couple　of　leaps…〃
　〃Based　on　a　couple　of　dozen　operations　I've　been　involved　with　both　here　and　at　the　Department　of　the　Navy　and　in　places　you　couldn't　pronounce　or　know　anything　about。〃　The　director's　elbows　were　planted　on　the　arms　of　his　chair；　his　voice　suddenly　harsh；　manding。　〃For　your　information；　Conklin；　I　didn't　suddenly　bloom　as　a　gold…braided　admiral　running　naval　intelligence。　I　was　in　the　SEALs　for　a　few　years　and　made　runs　off　submarines　into　Kaesong　and　later　into　Haiphong　harbor。　I　knew　a　number　of　those　Medusa　pricks；　and　I　can't　think　of　one　that　I　didn't　want　to　put　a　bullet　in　his　head！　Now　you　tell　me　there　was　one；　and　he　became　your　Jason　Bourne'　and　you'll　break　your　balls　or　bust　open　your　heart　to　see　that　he　stays　alive　and　well　and　out　of　the　Jackal's　gun　sights。　。。。　So　let's　cut　the　crap；　Alex。　Do　you　want　to　work　with　me　or　not？〃
　Conklin　slowly　sank　back　in　his　chair；　a　smile　gradually　emerging　on　his　lips。　〃I　told　you　I　had　no　sweat　with　your　appointment；　sir。　It　was　just　intuition；　but　now　I　know　why。　You　were　a　field　man。　。。。　I'll　work　with　you。〃
　〃Good；　fine；〃　said　the　director。　〃We'll　work　up　a　controlled　surveillance　and　hope　to　Christ　your　theory　that　they　want　you　alive　is　correct　because　there's　no　way　we　can　cover　every　window　or　every　rooftop。　You'd　better　understand　the　risk。〃
　〃I　do。　And　since　two　chunks　of　bait　are　better　than　one　in　a　tank　of　piranhas；　I　want　to　talk　to　Mo　Panov。〃
　〃You　can't　ask　him　to　be　a　part　of　this；〃　countered　Casset。　〃He's　not　one　of　us；　Alex。　Why　should　he？〃
　〃Because　he　is　one　of　us　and　I'd　better　ask　him。　If　I　didn't；　he'd　give　me　a　flu　shot　filled　with　strychnine。　You　see；　he　was　in　Hong　Kong；　too…for　reasons　not　much　different　from　mine。　Years　ago　I　tried　to　kill　my　closest　friend　in　Paris　because　I'd　made　a　terrible　mistake　believing　my　friend　had　turned　when　the　truth　was　that　he　had　lost　his　memory。　Only　days　later；　Morris　Panov；　one　of　the　leading　psychiatrists　in　the　country；　a　doctor　who　can't　stand　the　chicken…shit　psychobabble　so　popular　these　days；　was　presented　with　a　'hypothetical'　psychiatric　profile　that　required　his　immediate　reaction。　It　described　a　rogue　deep…cover　agent；　a　walking　time　bomb　with　a　thousand　secrets　in　his　head；　who　had　gone　over　the　edge。　。。。　On　the　basis　of　Mo's　on…the…spot　evaluation　of　that　hypothetical　profile…which　he　hours　later　suspected　was　no　more　hypothetical　than　Campbell's　soup…an　innocent　amnesiac　was　nearly　blown　away　in　a　government　ambush　on　New　York's　Seventy…first　Street。　When　what　was　left　of　that　man　survived；　Panov　demanded　to　be　assigned　as　his　only　head　doctor。　He's　never　forgiven　himself。　If　any　of　you　were　he；　what　would　you　do　if　I　didn't　talk　to　you　about　what　we're　talking　about　right　now？〃
　〃Tell　you　it's　a　flu　shot　and　pump　you　full　of　strychnine；　old　boy；〃　concluded　DeSole；　nodding。
　〃Where　is　Panov　now？〃　asked　Casset。
　〃At　the　Brookshire　Hotel　in　Baltimore　under　the　name　of　Morris；　Phillip　Morris。　He　called　off　his　appointments　today…he　has　the　flu。〃
　〃Then　let's　go　to　work；〃　said　the　DCI；　pulling　a　yellow　legal　pad　in　front　of　him。　〃Incidentally；　Alex；　a　petent　field　man　doesn't　concern　himself　with　rank　and　won't　trust　a　man　who　can't　convincingly　call　him　by　his　first　name。　As　you　well　know；　my　name　is　Holland　and　my　first　name　is　Peter。　From　here　on　we're　Alex　and　Peter；　got　it？〃
　〃I've　got　it…Peter。　You　must　have　been　one　son　of　a　bitch　in　the　SEALs。〃
　〃Insofar　as　I'm　here…geographically；　not　in　this　chair…it　can　be　assumed　I　was　petent。〃
　〃A　field　man；〃　mumbled　Conklin　in　approval。
　〃Also；　since　we've　dropped　the　diplomatic　drivel　expected　of　someone　in　this　job；　you　should　understand　that　I　was　a　hardnosed　son　of　a　bitch。　I　want　pro　input　here；　Alex；　not　emotional　output。　Is　that　clear？〃
　〃I　don't　operate　any　other　way；　Peter。　A　mitment　may　be　based　on　emotions　and　there's　nothing　wrong　with　that；　but　the　execution　of　a　strategy　is　ice…cold。　。。。　I　was　never　in　the　SEALs；　you　hard…nosed　son　of　a　bitch；　but　I'm　also　geographically　here；　limp　and　all；　and　that　presumes　I'm　also　petent。〃
　Holland　grinned；　it　was　a　smile　of　youth　belied　by　streaked　gray　hair；　the　grin　of　a　professional　momentarily　freed　of　executive　concerns　so　as　to　return　to　the　world　he　knew　best。　〃We　may　even　get　along；〃　said　the　DCI。　And　then；　as　if　to　drop　the　last　vestige　of　his　directorial　image；　he　placed　his　pipe　on　the　table；　reached　into　his　pocket　for　a　pack　of　cigarettes；　popped　one　up　to　his　mouth　and　snapped　his　lighter　as　he　began　to　write　on　the　legal　pad。　〃To　hell　with　the　Bureau；〃　he　continued。　〃We'll　use　only　our　men　and　we'll　check　every　one　out　under　a　fast　microscope。〃
　Charles　Casset；　the　lean；　bright　heir　apparent　of　the　CIA's　directorship；　sat　back　in　his　chair　and　sighed。　〃Why　do　I　have　the　idea　that　I'm　going　to　have　to　ride　herd　on　both　you　gentlemen？〃
　〃Because　you're　an　analyst　at　heart；　Charlie；〃　answered　Holland。
　The　object　of　controlled　surveillance　is　to　expose　those　who　shadow　others　so　as　to　establish　their　identities　or　take　them　into　custody；　whichever　suits　the　strategy。　The　aim　in　the　present　case　was　to　trap　the　agents　of　the　Jackal　who　had　lured　Conklin　and　Panov　to　the　amusement　park　in　Baltimore。　Working　through　the　night　and　most　of　the　following　day；　the　men　of　the　Central　Intelligence　Agency　formed　a　detail　of　eight　experienced　field　personnel；　defined　and　redefined　the　specific　routes　that　Conklin　and　Panov　were　to　take　both　individually　and　together　for　the　next　twenty…four　hours…these　routes　covered　by　the　armed　professionals　in　swift　progressive　relays…and　finally　to　design　an　irresistible　rendezvous；　unique　in　terms　of　time　and　location。　The　early　morning　hours　at　the　Smithsonian　Institution。　It　was　the　Dionaea　muscipula；　the　Venus　flytrap。
　Conklin　stood　in　the　narrow；　dimly　lit　lobb