The Matarese Circle - By Robert Ludlum Page 0,56

better than those who sent you to the camps." "I have to. He'll kill me. Now you say you will." "Thirty seconds ago, I would have. You didn't give me a choice; you can now. I'll take care of you. You stay in contact with this man. How?" "He calls. In the suite across the hall." "How often." "Every ten or fifteen minutes. He'll call again soon." "Let's go," said Bray cautiously. "Move to your right and drop the knife on the bed." "Then you'll shoot," whispered the old woman.

"If I was going to, I'd do it now," said Scofield. He needed her, needed her confidence. "There'd be no reason to wait, would there? Let's get over to that phone. Whatever he was paying, I'll double." "I don't think I can walk. I think you broke my foot." "I'll help you." Bray lowered the towel and took a step toward her. He held out his hand. "Take my arm." The old woman placed her left foot in front of her painfully. Then suddenly, like an enraged lioness, she lunged forward, her face again contorted, her eyes wild.

The blade came rushing toward Scofield's stomach.

Taleniekov followed the man from Amsterdam into the elevator. There was one other couple in the car. Young, rich, pampered Americans; fashionably dressed lovers or newlyweds, aware only of themselves and their hungers.

They had been drinking.

The Hollander in the black overcoat removed his gray homburg, as Vasili, his face briefly turned away, stood next to him against the paneled wall of the small enclosure. The doors closed. The girl laughed softly; her com- panion pressed the button for the fifth floor. The man from Amsterdam stepped forward and touched number .

As he moved back, he glanced to his left, his eyes making contact with Taleniekov's. The man froze, the shock total, the recognition absolute. And in that shock, that recognition, Vasili saw another truth: the execution trap was meant for him as well. The team had a priority, and it was Beowulf Agate, but if a KGB agent known as Taleniekov appeared on the scene he was to be taken out as ruthlessly as Scofield.

The man from Amsterdam swung his hat in front of his chest, plunging his right hand into his pocket. Vasili rushed him, pinning him against the wall, his left hand gripping the wrist in the pocket, slipping down, separating hand from weapon, groping for the thumb, twisting it back until the bone cracked and the man bleated. He sank to his knees.

The girl screamed. Taleniekov spoke in a loud voice. He addressed the couple.

"You will not be harmed. I repeat, you will not be harmed if you do as I say. Make no noise, and take us to your room." The Hollander lurched to the right; Vasili slammed his knee into the man's face, vicing the head against the wall. He took his gun from his pocket and held it up, pointing at the ceiling.

"I will not use this. I will not use this unless you disobey. You're no part of our dispute and I don't want you harmed. But you must do as I say." "Jesus. Jesus Christ! The young man's Ups trem bled.

"Take out your key," ordered Taleniekov almost amiably. "When the doors open walk casually in front of us to your room. You will be perfectly safe if you do as I say. If you don't, if you cry out, or try to raise an alarm, I shall have to shoot. I won't kill you; instead, I'll fire into your spines. You'll be paralyzed for life." "Oh, Christ, pleasel..." The young man's trembling spread throughout his head, neck, and shoulders.

"Please, misterl We'll do whatever you say!" The girl at least was lucid; she took the key from her lover's vest.

"Get up!" said Vasili to the man from Amsterdam. He reached into the killer's overcoat pocket and removed the Hollander's weapon.

The elevator doors opened. The couple walked out stiffly, passing an elderly man reading a newspaper, and turned right down the corridor. Taleniekov, his GrazBurya concealed at his side, gripped the cloth of Amsterdam's overcoat, propelling him forward.

"One sound, Dutchman," he whispered, ",and you'll not make another. I'll blow your back away; you won't have time to scream." Inside the double room, Vasili shoved the Hollander into a chair, held his gun on him, and issued orders once again to the frightened couple. "Get inside that clothes closet. Quickly!" Tears were streaming down the young man's pampered face; the girl pushed him

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