you'll have a name you can shock the goddamn world with, probably make a bloody fortune in the bargain what with literary and cinema rights, that sort of thing.'
'Then the general will spend the rest of his life sleeping peacefully.'
'Sleep?' He'll probably blow his brains out! You weren't listening. I said he'd be told quietly, all the traces buried, no name surfacing. But this way nothing's buried. It's all hanging out like Maggie's drawers, the whole sick sordid mess with no apologies on my part, chap. I know what I am, I accept it. Some of us are just plain different. Let's say we're anti-social, to put it one way; hard-core violent is another -rotten, still another. The only difference within my being different is that I'm bright enough to know it.'
'And accept it,' said Bourne, quietly.
'Wallow in it! Positively intoxicated by the highs! And let's look at it this way. If I lose and the story blows, how many practising anti-socials might be fired up by it? How many other different men are out there who'd be only too happy to take my place, as I took yours? This bloody world is crawling with Jason Bournes. Give them direction, give them an idea, and they'll flock to the source and be off and running. That was the Frenchman's essential genius, can't you see?'
'I see garbage, that's all I see.'
'Your eyesight's not too shabby. That's what the general will see - a reflection of himself - and he'll have to live with the exposure, choke with it.'
'If he wouldn't help you, you should have helped yourself, commit yourself. You're bright enough to know that.'
'And cut off all the fun, all the highs? Unthinkable, sport! You go your way and find the most expendable outfit in the service, hoping the accident will happen that will put an end to it before they peg you for what you are. I found the outfit, but the accident never happened. Unfortunately, competition brings out the best in all of us, doesn't it? We survive because somebody else doesn't want us to... And then, of course, there's drink. It gives us confidence, even the courage to do the things we're not sure we can do.'
'Not when you're working.'
'Of course not, but the memories are there. The whisky bravado that tells you you can do it.'
'False,' said Jason Bourne.
'Not entirely,' countered the assassin. 'You draw strength from what you can.'
'There are two people,' said Jason. 'One you know, the other you don't - or you don't want to.' 'False!' repeated the commando. 'He wouldn't be there unless I wanted my kicks, don't kid yourself. And don't delude yourself, either, Mr Original. You'd be better off putting a bullet in my head, because I'll take you, if I can. I'll kill you, if I can.'
'You're asking me to destroy what you can't live with.'
'Cut the crap, Bourne! I don't know about you, but I get my kicks! I want them! I don't want to live without them!'
'You just asked me again.'
'Stow it, you fucker!'
'And again.'
'Stop it!' The assassin lurched out of the chair. Jason took two steps forward, his right foot again lashing out, again pounding the killer's ribs, sending him back into the chair. Allcott-Price screamed in pain.
'I won't kill you, Major,' said Bourne quietly. 'But I'll make you wish you were dead.'
'Grant me a last wish,' coughed the killer through an open mouth, holding his chest with his bound hands. 'Even I've done that for targets ... I can take the unexpected bullet but I can't take the Hong Kong garrison. They'd hang me late at night when no one's around, just to make it official, according to the regs. They'd put a thick rope around my neck and make me stand on a platform. I can't take that?
Delta knew when to switch gears. 'I told you before,' he said calmly. That may not be in store for you. I'm not dealing with the British in Hong Kong.'
'You're not what?'
'You assumed it, but I never said it.'
'You're lying?
Then you're less talented than I thought, which wasn't much to begin with.'
'I know. I can't think geometrically?
'You certainly can't.'
Then you're a premium man - what you Americans call a bounty hunter - but you're working privately.'
'In a sense, yes. And I have an idea that the man who sent me after you may want to hire you, not kill you.'