‘I appreciate that… With regard to whatever is said at this conference, I accept the condition of non-disclosure: I will speak to no one about any aspect of the discussion unless instructed to do so personally by Ambassador Havilland. I further understand that I may be prosecuted at a closed trial should I violate this agreement. However, should such a trial ever take place, I reserve the right to confront my accusers, not their affidavits or depositions. I add this for I cannot conceive of any circumstances where I would or could violate the oath I’ve just taken. ‘
‘There are circumstances, you know,’ said Reilly, gently.
‘Not in my book. ‘
‘Extreme physical abuse, chemicals, being tricked by men and women far more experienced than you. There are ways, Mr Undersecretary. ‘
‘I repeat. Should a case ever be brought against me – and such things have happened to others – I reserve the right to face any and all accusers. ‘
‘That’s good enough for us.’ Again Reilly looked straight ahead and spoke. Terminate this tape and pull the plugs. Confirm. ‘
‘Confirmed? said a voice eerily from a speaker somewhere overhead.’ You are now… out. ‘
‘Proceed, Mr Ambassador,’ said the red-haired man. ‘I’ll interrupt only when I feel it’s necessary. ‘
‘I’m sure you will, Jack.’ Havilland turned to McAllister. ‘I take back my previous statement; he really is a terror. After forty-odd years of service, I’m told by a redheaded whippersnapper who should go on a diet when to shut up. ‘
The three men smiled; the ageing diplomat knew the moment and the method to reduce tension. Reilly shook his head and genially extended his hands. ‘I would never do that, sir. Certainly, I hope not so obviously. ‘
‘What say, McAllister? Let’s defect to Moscow and say he was the recruiter. The Russkies would probably give us both dachas and he’d be in Leavenworth. ‘
‘ You’d get the dacha, Mr Ambassador. I’d share a flat with twelve Siberians. No thank you, sir. He’s not interrupting me. ‘
‘ Very good. I’m surprised none of those well-intentioned meddlers in the Oval Office ever tapped you for his staff, or at least sent you to the UN. ‘
They didn’t know I existed. ‘
That status will change,’ said Havilland, abruptly serious. He paused, staring at the undersecretary, then lowered his voice. ‘Have you ever heard the name Jason Bourne?’
‘How could anyone posted in Asia not have heard it? answered McAllister, perplexed. Thirty-five to forty murders’ the assassin-for-hire who eluded every trap ever set for him. A pathological killer whose only morality was the price of the kill. They say he was an American – is an American; I don’t know; he faded from sight – and that he was a defrocked priest and an importer who’d stolen millions and a deserter from the French Foreign Legion and God knows how many other stories. The only thing I do know is that he was never caught, and our failure to catch him was a burden on our diplomacy throughout the Far East. ‘
‘Was there any pattern to his victims?’
‘None. They were random, across the board. Two bankers here, three attaches there – meaning CI A; a minister of state from Delhi, an industrialist from Singapore, and numerous -far too numerous – politicians, generally decent men. Their cars were bombed in the streets, their flats blown up. Then there were unfaithful husbands and wives and lovers of various persuasions in various scandals; he offered final solutions for bruised egos. There was no one he wouldn’t kill,
no method too brutal or demeaning for him… No, there wasn’t a pattern, just money. The highest bidder. He was a monster – is a monster, if he’s still alive. ‘
Once more Havilland leaned forward, his eyes steady on the undersecretary of state. ‘You say he faded from sight. Just like that? You never picked up anything, any rumors or backstairs gossip from our Asian embassies or consulates?
‘There was talk, yes, but none of it was ever confirmed. The story I heard most often came from the Macao police, where Bourne was last known to be. They said he wasn’t dead or retired, but instead had gone to Europe looking for wealthier clients. If it’s true, it might be only half the story. The police also claimed informants told them that several contracts had gone sour for Bourne, that in one instance he killed the wrong man, a leading figure in the Malaysian underworld, and in another it was said he raped a client’s wife. Perhaps the circle was closing in on him – and perhaps not. ‘
‘What do you mean?
‘Most of us bought the first half of the story, not the second. Bourne wouldn’t kill the wrong man, especially someone like that; he didn’t make those kinds of mistakes. And if he raped a client’s wife – which is doubtful – he would have done so out of hatred or revenge. He would have forced a bound husband to watch and then killed them both. No, most of us subscribed to the first story. He went to Europe where there were bigger fish to fry – and murder. ‘
‘You were meant to accept that version,’ said Havilland, leaning back in his chair.
‘I beg your pardon?
‘The only man Jason Bourne ever killed in post-Vietnam Asia was an enraged conduit who tried to kill him. ‘
Stunned, McAllister stared at the diplomat. ‘I don’t understand. ‘
‘The Jason Bourne you’ve just described never existed. He was a myth. ‘
‘You can’t be serious. ‘
‘Never more so. Those were turbulent times in the Far East. The drug networks operating out of the Golden Triangle were fighting a disorganized, unpublicized war. Consuls, vice-
consuls, police, politicians, criminal gangs, border patrols -the highest and the lowest social orders – all were affected. Money in unimaginable amounts was the mother’s milk of corruption. Whenever and wherever a well-publicized killing took place – regardless of the circumstances or those accused – Bourne was on the scene and took credit for the kill. ‘
‘He was the killer,’ insisted a confused McAllister. There were the signs, his signs. Everyone knew it!’
‘Everyone assumed it, Mr Undersecretary. A mocking telephone call to the police, a small article of clothing sent in the mail, a black bandanna found in the bushes a day later. They were all part of the strategy. ‘
The strategy? What are you talking about?
‘Jason Bourne – the original Jason Bourne – was a convicted murderer, a fugitive whose life ended with a bullet in his head in a place called Tarn Quan during the last months of the Vietnam war. It was a jungle execution. The man was a traitor. His corpse was left to rot – he simply disappeared. Several years later, the man who executed him took on his identity for one of our projects, a project that nearly succeeded, should have succeeded, but went off the wire. ‘
‘Off the what?
‘Out of control. That man – that very brave man – who went underground for us, using the name “Jason Bourne” for three years, was injured, and the result of those injuries was amnesia. He lost his memory; he neither knew who he was nor who he was meant to be. ‘
‘Good Lord
‘He was between a rock and a hard place. With the help of an alcoholic doctor on a Mediterranean island he tried to trace his life, his identity, and here, I’m afraid, he failed. He failed but the woman who befriended him did not fail; she’s now his wife. Her instincts were accurate; she knew he wasn’t a killer. She purposely forced him to examine his words, his abilities, ultimately to make the contacts that would lead him back to us. But we, with the most sophisticated intelligence apparatus in the world, did not listen to the human quotient. We set a trap to kill him-‘
‘I must interrupt, Mr Ambassador,’ said Reilly.
‘Why? asked Havilland. ‘It’s what we did and we’re not on tape. ‘
‘An individual made the determination, not the United States Government. That should be clear, sir. ‘
‘All right,’ agreed the diplomat, nodding. ‘His name was Conklin, but it’s irrelevant, Jack. Government personnel went along. It happened. ‘
‘Government personnel were also instrumental in saving his life. ‘
‘Somewhat after the fact,’ muttered Havilland.
‘But why?’ asked McAllister. He now leaned forward, mesmerized by the bizarre story. ‘He was one of us. Why would anyone want to kill him?’
‘His loss of memory was taken for something else. It was erroneously believed that he had turned, that he had killed three of his controls and disappeared with a great deal of money – government funds totalling over five million dollars. ‘
‘Five million… ?’ Astonished, the undersecretary slowly sank back into the chair. ‘Funds of that magnitude were available to him personally?