Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Evolution - Brian Freeman Page 0,104
he’ll come. If he is, well, he’ll tell Miss Shirley, and she’ll send others.”
Abbey’s lips pushed into a thin line. “Okay.”
“Can you do this?”
“Of course.”
“After you’ve delivered the message, wait for me near the gates. There’s a cactus garden down there that we passed as we were coming in. Stay out of sight. I’ll be there as soon as I can. We may need to leave quickly.”
He expected her to argue as she had in the past. He half wanted her to say that she wouldn’t let him go alone, that she wanted to be with him. But she didn’t. Not this time. Instead, she brushed back her hair and told him in a calm voice, “Don’t get yourself killed, Jason.”
Abbey disappeared into the crowd. He waited until she was gone, and then he made his way to the nearest glass doors leading into the estate itself. He passed through bizarrely decorated open spaces as he hunted for stairs that led to the next level. On the second floor, he did the same. And then again. When he got to the top floor, he found exterior stairs that took him to the roof.
From up here, he had an unobstructed view of the people, the grounds, the Sensara neighborhood, and the rest of Las Vegas. Near the estate wall and the outer gates, where limousines continued to deliver more guests, he could make out the silhouettes of towering saguaros, chollas, and prickly pears in the cactus garden. Pinpoint snow-white lights shimmered in the breeze. He couldn’t see if Abbey had made it there yet. He wondered for a moment if she would leave without him and he would never see her again. Maybe that would be better for both of them.
Jason checked his watch and waited.
Half an hour passed, and he was still alone. He found himself pacing, letting the mountain breeze wash across his face. When an hour had passed, he began to think that Gabriel Fox had chosen to ignore his message.
Then he heard footsteps approaching on the roof stairs. He reached for the holster in the small of his back, but he heard only one set of footsteps, rather than the boots of Medusa’s army. A few seconds later, the CEO of Prescix joined him. Gabriel took off his pillbox hat and draped his leopard print tuxedo coat over his arm. He approached warily, but he also had a curious expression.
“Jason Bourne. I don’t recall seeing your name on the invitation list. Then again, what’s a wedding without a party crasher?”
“You don’t sound surprised to see me.”
“I’m not. Remember, my business is tech. Do you think anything happens on my estate that isn’t observed and recorded? I knew you were here from the second you stepped foot out of that limousine.”
“And yet you let me in,” Bourne said. “You could have had security turn me away.”
Gabriel assessed Bourne like an exhibit of bones in a museum. “Frankly, I was curious about why you’re here. Are you going to kill me? Is that the plan?”
“No.”
“Well, good,” the man replied with a chuckle. “I don’t mind missing the party, but I’d sure hate to miss the wedding night.”
Bourne frowned. The easy confidence in Gabriel’s attitude bothered him. The CEO knew Jason was at the party, and yet he’d come to the roof alone to confront an assassin, seemingly without concern or fear. Something was wrong.
“Anyway, you dragged me up here,” Gabriel went on in the same casual drawl. He twirled his pillbox hat in his fingers. “I assume Miles Priest didn’t really send you. So what do you want?”
“I came to warn you.”
“About what?”
“Your wife,” Jason said.
Gabriel’s mouth broke into a wide smile. “Ah, you know Miss Shirley, do you? People who meet her rarely forget the experience.”
“I know she’s Medusa.”
The tech billionaire wandered toward the edge of the roof and stared down at the party. “You and Miles. All these fairy tales about Medusa. We’ve become a society addicted to conspiracy theories.”
“Medusa is real, and your new wife is in the middle of it. If she married you, it’s because you’ve got something they want, and we both know what that is. Prescix.”
Gabriel shook his head impatiently. He spoke without turning around. “I’m surprised at you, Bourne. Do you really think I would get involved with a woman—even a woman as talented as Miss Shirley—without knowing everything about her? Believe me, I know exactly who she is and what she’s done.”