The Bourne Supremacy by Robert Ludlum

profusely as he left the unconscious guard on a dark patch of concrete. He held the radio up to his ear; there was nothing on the receiver. It was 9: 40. One head-head man remained.

The small, middle-aged Chinese in the expensive suit and polished shoes all but held his nose as he raced from one point to another trying to spot his men, reluctant to make the slightest physical contact with the hordes gathered around the vendors’ stalls and tables. His lack of height made it hard for him to see. Bourne watched where he was heading, ran ahead of him, then quickly turned around and sent his fist crashing into the executive’s lower abdomen. As the Chinese buckled over, Jason reached around the man’s waist with his left arm, picked him up and carried the limp figure to a section of the kerb where two men sat, weaving, passing a bottle back and forth. He placed a Wushu chop across the banker’s neck and dropped him between his new companions. Through their haze the drunken men would make sure their new associate stayed unconscious for a considerable length of time. There were pockets to ransack, clothes and a pair of shoes to be removed. All would bring a price, whatever cash there was a bonus for their labours. 9: 43.

Bourne no longer stooped, gone was the chameleon. He rushed across the street overflowing with humanity and raced down the steps and into the alley. He had done it! He had removed the Praetorian Guard. A taipan for a wife! He reached the staircase – the third staircase in the right wall -and yanked out the remarkable weapon he had purchased from an arms merchant in the Mongkok. As quietly as he could manage, testing each step with a foot, he climbed to the second level. He braced himself outside the door, balanced his weight, lifted his left leg and smashed it into the thin wood.

The door crashed open. He sprang through and crouched, the weapon extended.

Three men faced him, forming a semicircle, each with a gun aimed at his head. Behind them, dressed in a white silk suit, a huge Chinese sat in a chair. The man nodded to his guards.

He had lost. Bourne had miscalculated and David Webb would die. Far more excruciating, he knew Marie’s death

would soon follow. Let them fire, thought David. Pull the triggers that would mercifully put him out of it! He had killed the only thing that mattered in his life. ‘Shoot, goddamn you! Shoot?

11

‘Welcome, Mr Bourne,’ said the large man in the white silk suit, waving his guards aside. ‘I assume you see the logic of putting your gun on the floor and pushing it away from you. There’s really no alternative, you know. ‘

Webb looked at the three Chinese; the man in the centre cracked the hammer back on his automatic. David lowered the gun and shoved it forward. ‘You expected me, didn’t you? he asked quietly, getting to his feet as the guard on his right picked up the weapon.

‘We didn’t know what to expect – except the unexpected. How did you do it? Are my people dead?5

‘No. They’re bruised and unconscious, not dead. ‘

‘Remarkable. You thought I was alone here?

‘I was told you travelled with your head man and three others, not six. I thought it was logical. Any more it seemed to me would be conspicuous. ‘

‘That’s why these men came early to make arrangements and have not left this hole since they arrived. So you thought you could take me, exchange me for your wife. ‘

‘It’s obvious that she didn’t have a damn thing to do with it. Let her go; she can’t hurt you. Kill me but let her go.

‘Pi ge!’ said the banker, ordering two of the guards out of the flat; they bowed and left quickly. ‘This man will remain,’ he continued, turning back to Webb. ‘Apart from the immense loyalty he has for me he doesn’t speak or understand a word of English. ‘

‘I see you trust your people. ‘

‘I trust no one.’ The financier gestured at a dilapidated wooden chair across the shabby room, revealing as he did so a gold Rolex on his wrist, diamonds encrusted around its dial matching his bejewelled gold cufflinks. ‘Sit down,’ he ordered. ‘I’ve gone to great lengths and spent much money to bring about this conference. ‘

‘Your head man – I assume it was your head man,’ said Bourne aimlessly, studying every detail of the room as he walked over to the chair, ‘told me not to wear an expensive watch down here. I guess you didn’t listen to him. ‘

‘I arrived in a soiled, filthy kaftan with sleeves wide enough to conceal it. As I look at your clothes, I’m certain the Chameleon understands. ‘

‘You’re Yao Ming.’ Webb sat down.

‘It is a name I’ve used, you surely understand that. The Chameleon goes by many shapes and colours. ‘

‘I didn’t kill your wife – or the man who happened to be with her. ‘

‘I know that, Mr Webb… ‘

‘You what?’ David shot up from the chair, as the guard took a rapid step forward, his gun levelled.

‘Sit down,’ repeated the banker. ‘Don’t alarm my devoted friend or we both may regret it, you far more than me. ‘

‘You knew it wasn’t me and still you’ve done this to us!’

‘Sit quickly, please. ‘

‘I want an answer? said Webb, sitting down.

‘Because you are the true Jason Bourne. That is why you are here, why your wife remains in my custody, and will remain so until you accomplish what I ask of you. ‘

‘I talked to her. ‘

‘I know you did. I permitted it. ‘

‘She didn’t sound like herself – even considering the circumstances. She’s strong, stronger than I was during those lousy weeks in Switzerland and Paris. Something’s wrong with her! Is she drugged?’

‘Certainly not. ‘

‘Is she hurt?

‘In spirit, perhaps, but not in any other way. However, she

will be hurt and she will die, if you refuse me. Can I be clearer?

‘You’re dead, taipan. ‘

‘The true Bourne speaks. That’s very good. It’s what I need. ‘

‘Spell it out. ‘

‘I am being hounded by someone in your name,’ began the taipan, his voice hard, his intensity mounting. ‘Far more severely – may the spirits forgive me – than the loss of a young wife. From all sides in all areas, the terrorist, this new Jason Bourne, attacks! He kills my people, blows up shipments of valuable merchandise, threatens other taipans with death if they do business with me! His exorbitant fees come from my enemies here in Hong Kong and Macao, and up the Deep Bay water routes north into the provinces themselves!’

‘You have a lot of enemies. ‘

‘My interests are extensive. ‘

‘So, I was told, were those of the man I didn’t kill in Macao. ‘

‘Oddly enough,’ said the banker, breathing hard and gripping the arm of his chair in an effort to control himself, ‘he and I were not enemies. In certain areas our interests converged. It’s how he met my wife. ‘

‘How convenient. Shared assets, as it were. ‘

‘You are offensive. ‘

They’re not my rules,’ replied Bourne, his eyes cold, levelled at the Oriental. ‘Get to the point. My wife’s alive and I want her back without a mark on her or a voice raised against her. If she’s harmed in any way whatsoever, you and your Zhongguo ren won’t be any match for what I’ll mount against you. ‘

‘You are not in a position to make threats, Mr Webb. ‘

‘Webb isn’t,’ agreed the once most hunted man in Asia and Europe. ‘Bourne is. ‘

The Oriental looked hard at Jason, nodding twice as his eyes dropped below Webb’s gaze. ‘Your audacity matches your arrogance. To the point. It’s very simple, very clear cut.’ The taipan suddenly clenched his right hand into a fist, then raised it and crashed it down on the fragile arm of the decrepit

chair. ‘I want proof against my enemies!’ he shouted, his angry eyes peering out behind two partially closed walls of swollen flesh. The only way I’ll get it is for you to bring me this all too credible impostor who takes your place! I want him facing me, watching me as he feels his life leaving him in agony until he tells me everything I must know. Bring him to me, Jason Bourne!’ The banker breathed deeply, then added quietly. ‘Then, and only then, will you be reunited with your wife. ‘

Webb stared at the taipan in silence. ‘What makes you think I can do it? he said finally.

‘Who better to trap a pretender than the original. ‘

‘Words,’ said Webb. ‘Meaningless. ‘

‘He’s studied you! He’s analysed your methods, your techniques. He could not pass himself off as you if he had not. Find him! Trap him with the tactics you yourself created. ‘

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *