The Bourne Supremacy by Robert Ludlum

Carrying his purchases back to the hotel, he went to a desk in the lobby and began his preparations. First, he wrote a note in Chinese relieving the driver of the rented car of all responsibility in turning the automobile over to the foreigner. It was signed by a general and amounted to an order. Second, he spread out the map and circled a small green area on the outskirts of northwest Beijing.

The Jing Shan Bird Sanctuary.

Secrecy was worth ten thousand tigers, if not a kingdom.

25

Marie leaped out of the chair at the shrill, jangling bell of the telephone. She ran, limping and wincing, across the room and picked it up. ‘Yes!’

‘Mrs Austin, I presume.’

‘Mo? … Mo Panov! Thank God.’ Marie closed her eyes in gratitude and relief. It had been nearly thirty hours since she had spoken to Alexander Conklin and the waiting and the tension, above all the helplessness, had driven her to the edge of panic.’ Alex said he was going to ask you to come with him. He thought you would.’

Thought? Was there a doubt? How are you feeling, Marie? And I don’t expect an answer from Pollyanna.’

‘Going mad, Mo. I’m trying not to, but I’m going mad!

‘As long as you haven’t completed the journey I’d say you were remarkable, and the fact that you’re fighting every step of the way even more so. But then you don’t need any chicken soup psychology from me. I just wanted an excuse to hear your voice again.’

To find out whether I was a babbling wreck,’ said Marie gently, making a statement.

‘We’ve been through too much together for such a third-rate subterfuge – I’d never get away with it with you. Which I just didn’t.’

‘Where’s Alex?’

Talking into the pay phone next to me; he asked me to call you. Apparently he wants to speak with you while whoever it is he’s talking to is still on the line … Wait a second. He’s nodding. The next voice you hear, et cetera, et cetera.’

‘Marie?’

‘Alex! Thank you. Thank you for coming-‘

‘As your husband would say: “No time for that.” What were you wearing when they last saw you.

‘Wearing?’

‘When you got away from them.’

‘I got away twice. The second time was in Tuen Mun.’

‘Not then,’ interrupted Conklin. The contingent was small and there was too much confusion – if I remember what you told me. A couple of marines actually saw you but nobody else did. Here. Here in Hong Kong. That’d be the description they’d start with, the one that would stick in their minds. What were you wearing then?’

‘Let me think. At the hospital-‘

‘Later,’ broke in Alex. ‘You said something to me about swapping clothes and buying a few things. The Canadian consulate, Staples’s apartment. Can you remember?’

‘Good Lord, how can you remember?’

‘No mystery, I make notes. It’s one of the by-products of alcohol. Hurry, Marie. Just generally, what were you wearing?’

‘A pleated skirt – yes, a grey pleated skirt, that was it. And a kind of bluish-grey blouse with a high collar-‘

‘You’d probably change that.’

‘What?

‘Never mind. What else?’

‘Oh, a hat, a fairly wide-brimmed hat to cover my face.’

‘Good!’

‘And a fake Gucci purse I bought in the street. Oh, and sandals to make me shorter.’

‘I want the height. We’ll stick to heels. That’s fine, that’s all 1 need.’

‘For what, Alex? What are you doing?’

‘Playing Simon Says. 1 know perfectly well the State Department passport computers picked me up, and with my smooth, athletic walk even State’s wart-hogs could spot me in customs. They won’t know a damn thing, but someone’s giving them orders and I want to know who else shows up.’

‘I’m not sure I understand.’

‘I’ll explain later. Stay where you are. We’ll get there as soon as we can make a clean break. But it has to be very clean, sterile in fact, so it may take an hour or so.’

‘What about Mo?’

‘He has to stay with me. If we separate now, at the least they’ll follow him, at worst they’ll take him in.’

‘What about you?

‘They won’t touch me beyond a tight surveillance.’

‘You’re confident.’

‘I’m angry. They can’t know what I’ve left behind or with whom or what my instructions are if there’s a break in any pre-arranged phone calls. For them, right now I’m a walking – limping – mega-bomb that could blow apart their entire operation, whatever the hell it is.’

‘I know you say there’s no time, Alex, but I’ve got to tell you something. I’m not sure why, but I have to. I think one of the things about you that so hurt and enraged David was the fact that he thought you were the best at what you did. Every once in a while, when he’d had a few drinks or his mind wandered – opening a door or two for him – he’d shake his head sadly or pound his fist furiously and ask himself why! “Why?” he’d say. “He was better than that … he was the best”.’

‘I was no match for Delta. No one was. Ever.’

‘You sound awfully good to me.’

‘Because I’m not coming in from the cold, I’m going out. With a better reason than I’ve ever had in my life before.’

‘Be careful, Alex.’

‘Tell them to be careful.’ Conklin hung up the phone, and Marie felt the tears rolling slowly down her cheeks.

Morris Panov and Alex left the gift shop in the Kowloon railway station and headed for the escalator that led to the lower level, Tracks 5 and 6. Mo, the friend, was perfectly willing to follow his former patient’s instructions. But Panov the psychiatrist could not resist offering his professional opinion.

‘No wonder you people are all fucked up,’ he said, carrying a stuffed panda under his arm and a brightly-coloured magazine in his hand. ‘Let me get this straight. When we go downstairs, I walk to the right, which is Track Six, and then proceed to my left towards the rear of the train, which we assume will arrive within minutes. Correct so far?

‘Correct,’ answered Conklin, beads of sweat on his forehead as he limped beside the doctor.

‘I then wait by the last pillar, holding this foul-smelling stuffed animal under my arm while glancing through the pages of this extremely pornographic magazine, until a woman approaches me.’

‘Correct again,’ said Alex, as they stepped down into the escalator. The panda’s a perfectly normal gift; it’s a favourite with Westerners. Think of it as a present to her kid. The porno magazine simply completes the recognition signal. Pandas and dirty pictures with naked women don’t usually go together.’ ‘On the contrary, the combination could be positively

Freudian.’

‘Score one for the funny farm. Just do as I say.’ ‘Say? You never told me what I was to say to the woman.’ Try “Nice to meet you”, or “How’s the kid?” It doesn’t matter. Give her the panda and get back to this escalator as fast as you can without running.’ They reached the lower platform and Conklin touched Panov’s elbow, angling the doctor to the right. ‘You’ll do fine, coach. Just do as I say and come back here. Everything’s going to be all right.’ That’s easier said from where I usually sit.’ Panov walked down to the end of the platform as the train from Lo Wu thundered into the station. He stood by the last pillar and as passengers by the hundreds poured out of the doors the doctor awkwardly held the black and white panda under his arm and raised the magazine in front of his face. And when it happened, he nearly collapsed. ‘You must be Harold!’ exclaimed the loud falsetto voice as

a tall figure, heavily made up under a soft, wide-brimmed hat and dressed in a grey pleated skirt slapped his shoulder. ‘I’d know you anywhere, darling!’

‘Nice to meet you. How’s the kid?’ Morris could barely speak.

‘How’s Alex?’ countered the suddenly bass male voice quietly. ‘I owe him and I pay my debts, but this is crazy! Has he still got both his oars in the water?”

‘I’m not sure any of you have,’ said the astonished psychiatrist.

‘Quickly? said the strange figure. They’re closing in. Give me the panda, and when I start running fade into the crowd and get out of here! Give it to me!’

Panov did as he was told, aware that several men were breaking through the straggling groups of passengers and converging on them. Suddenly the heavily rouged man in women’s clothes ran behind the thick pillar and emerged on the other side. He kicked off his high heels, circled the pillar again and like a footballer back raced into the crowd nearest the train, passing a Chinese who tried to grab him, dodging through pummelled bodies and startled faces. Behind him other men took up the chase, thwarted by the increasingly hostile passengers who began using suitcases and knapsacks to ward off the bewildering assaults. Somehow, in the near riot, the panda was put in the hands of a tall Occidental female who was also holding an unfolded train timetable. The woman was grabbed by two well-dressed Chinese; she screamed; they looked at her, yelled at each other, and plunged ahead.