The Bourne Deception - By Robert Ludlum & Eric van Lustbader Page 0,49
around the corner, slammed it into his chest. Shed been aiming for his throat but missed, and though he rocked back against the wall, he immediately came at her, threw a punch that she blocked.
But it was only a feint and he grabbed her left arm from the under-side and applied pressure in an attempt to break it at the elbow. Moira, pinioned, trod hard on his instep, but his grip didnt loosen. He applied more pressure until a yelp of pain escaped her throat. Then he came in with the heel of his hand, a blow aimed at the point of her nose.
She let him commit himself completely to the blow, then dodged her head to one side. At the same time, gathering all her strength into her lower belly, she jammed her flexed right knee into his groin. His arms opened wide, his grip on her began to slip, and he went down.
Moira snatched her arm away, but he managed to grasp her wrist, bringing her down to him as he fell to his knees. His eyes were watering and he was clearly struggling not to pant, to deepen his breathing, work through the excruciating pain. But Moira wasnt about to let him. She drove her knuckles into his throat and, as he gagged, she freed herself. Then she struck the left side of his head, slamming it against the buildings stonework. His eyes rolled up and he slid to the pavement. Quickly she took his weapon and his ID and took off through the growing crowd of gawking people, drawn to the scuffle like dogs scenting blood, saying, That man mugged me. Someone call the police!
On the corner of Fort Myer Drive and 17th Street North she brought herself up short. She was breathing heavily, her pulse rate accelerated. Adrenaline was burning through her like a river of fire, but she managed to slow to a walk, moving against the tide of people who were following the sound of the sirens on the police cruisers, quickening from more than one direction. One was coming directly at her, but, no, it was an EMS ambulance.
Dave had arrived, not a moment too soon. The ambulance slowed and she saw Earl behind the wheel. As the vehicle came abreast of her the back doors banged open and Dave leaned out. As he grabbed her left hand to swing her aboard she gasped. When shed navigated the metal step Dave, lunging past her, swung the doors shut and said, Go!
Earl stepped on the gas. Moira swung around as the ambulance hit a corner at speed. Dave put his arms around her to steady her, led her to one of the benches.
You okay? he asked.
She nodded, but winced as she bent her left arm.
Let me see that, Dave said, pushed back the sleeve of her blouse. Nice, he said and started to work on the bruised and puffy joint.
At that point, Moira knew she was nearing the end of her rope. One of her operatives had stumbled on a secret so important that either Black River, the NSA, or both working in concert had killed him. Now they were after her. Her fledgling company had just over a hundred operatives, more than half of them recruited from Black River. Any one of them could be a traitor, because of one thing she was absolutely certain: Someone inside Heartland had tracked her ISP address to the Wi-Fi network at the Shade Grown Café and had given it to the NSA. That was the only explanation for them showing up so quickly.
Now she was out of options. She had no one to trust. Except, she thought bleakly, one person. The person shed vowed never to see or speak to again, not after what had happened between them, which was unforgivable.
Moira closed her eyes, swaying slightly with the motion of the speeding ambulance. While now was not the time for forgiveness, maybe it was time for a truce. Who else could she call? Who else could she trust? She gave a little gasp of despair. If it werent so sad it would be funny, really, turning for help to the last person shed ever accept anything from. But that was then, she told herself grimly, and this is now.
With a silent curse, she used her burner to dial a local number. When the male voice answered, she took a deep breath and said, Veronica Hart, please.