She doesn’t believe a word I told her and I’m...
She doesn’t believe a word I told her and I’m going to erase the tape
I haven’t heard that kind of language since the Mekong Delta
“She’s upset—”
“So am I,” broke in Alex, not bothering to make light of Bourne’s understatement
“What?”
“You heard mePanov’s gone, vanished
“My God, how? He was guarded every minute!”
“We’re trying to piece it together; that’s where I was, over at the hospital
“Hospital?”
“Walter ReedHe was in a psych session with a military this morning, and when it was over he
never came out to his detailThey waited twenty minutes or so, then went in to find him and his
escort because he was on a tight scheduleThey were told he left
“That’s crazy!”
“It gets crazier and scarierThe head floor nurse said an army doctor, a surgeon, came to the
desk, showed his ID, and instructed her to tell DrPanov that there was a fake chanel bag change of routing for him,
that he was to use the east-wing exit because of an expected protest march at the main entrance
The east wing has a different hallway to the psych area than the one to the main lobby, yet the army
surgeon used the main doors
“Come again?”
“He walked right past our escort in the hallway
“And obviously out the same way and around to the east-wing hallNothing on-scene unusual
A doctor with clearance in a restricted area, in and out, and while he’s in, he delivers false
instructionsBut, Christ, Alex, who? Carlos was on his way back here, to Paris! Whatever he
wanted in Washington he gotHe found me, he found usHe didn’t need any more!”
“DeSole,” said Conklin quietly“DeSole knew about me and Mo PanovI threatened the
Agency with both of us, and DeSole was there in the conference roomWhat are you telling tiffany co earrings me?”
“DeSole, Brussels
“All right, I’m slow
“It’s not he, David, it’s theyDeSole was taken out, our connection removed
“To hell with them! They’re on my back burner!”
Robert Ludlum ?? THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM
192
“You’re not on theirsYou cracked their shell
“I couldn’t care lessI told you yesterday, I’ve only got one priority and he’s in Paris, square
one in Argenteuil
“Then I haven’t been clear,” said Alex, his voice faint, the tone defeated“Last night I had
dinner with MoI told him everythingTranquility, your flying to Paris, Bernardine everything!”
A former judge of the first circuit court, residing in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of
America, stood among the small gathering of mourners on the flat surface of the highest hill on
Tranquility IsleThe cemetery was the final resting place—in voce verbatim via amicus curiae, as
he legally chanel quilted bags explained to the authorities on MontserratBrendan Patrick Pierre Prefontaine watched
as the two splendid coffins provided by the generous owner of Tranquility Inn were lowered into
the ground along with the absolutely incomprehensible blessings of the native priest, who no doubt
usually had the neck of a dead chicken in his mouth while intoning his benediction in voodoo
language“Jean Pierre Fontaine” and his wife were at peace
Nevertheless, barbarism notwithstanding, Brendan, the quasi-alcoholic street lawyer of Harvard
Square, had found a causeA cause beyond his own survival, and that in itself was remarkable
Randolph Gates, Lord Randolph of Gates, Dandy Randy of the Courts of the Elite, was in reality a
scumball, a conduit of death in the CaribbeanAnd the outlines of a scheme were forming in
Prefontaine’s progressively clearer mind, tiffany toggle necklace clearer because, among other inhumane deprivations, he
had suddenly decided to do without his four shots of vodka upon waking up in the morningGates
had provided the essential information that led the would-be killers of the Webb family to
Tranquility IsleThat was basically, even legally, irrelevant; the fact that he had supplied
their whereabouts to known killers, with prior knowledge that they were killers, was notThat was
accomplice to murder, multiple murderDandy Randy’s testicles were in a vise, and as the plates
closed, he would—he had to—reveal information that would assist the Webbs, especially the
glorious auburn-headed woman he wished to almighty God he had met fifty years ago
Prefontaine was flying back to Boston in the morning, but he had asked John StJacques if he
might return one dayPerhaps not with a prepaid chanel classic bags reservation