Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Evolution - Brian Freeman Page 0,108
being here. I think you know I feel something for you. It’s not just attraction, not just sexual. I’m drawn to you, and whatever the feeling is, it’s strong. I tried to push it away. I tried to be cold, because some of the things you have to do—they horrify me. But I can’t pretend. And the thing is, I think you feel something for me, too.”
There was nothing Jason could say to that.
“I know you can’t admit it,” Abbey went on when she saw that he wouldn’t answer her. “That’s okay. But I also know that if I’m in danger, that’s going to change what you do. Just like it did last night. You’re going to put me first, and the result of that is you’re more likely to get killed. I can’t live with that. I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for me.”
Jason knew she was right. That was lesson number one they’d drilled into his head.
Emotion is your enemy. Emotion kills. You have to switch off that part of yourself.
Treadstone.
The next part of the journey belonged to him alone. He’d already decided that. He would have left Abbey behind in the night if he had to, to make sure she didn’t put herself in any more jeopardy. That was how it had to be.
“There they are,” Abbey said, pointing across the street. “They’re on the move.”
Bourne lifted his binoculars. He saw the vehicle they’d followed two nights ago, the armored Volvo SUV, emerging from the winding road that led to Sensara. He couldn’t see through the smoked windows to identify who was inside. This time, there was more than one vehicle leaving the estate. Two other identical SUVs followed the first, like a convoy.
“Let’s see where they go,” he said.
He pulled into traffic two blocks behind them. As early as it was, there were enough cars on the roads to keep the Land Rover anonymous. The three matching Volvos all followed the same route westward across the city. None of the vehicles had any identifying markings, and the windows were all black. The convoy made slow progress through the city traffic, but when they reached the flat, empty desert land in the far south of the valley, they accelerated. It was easy to keep the three vehicles in sight, and Bourne stayed half a mile back, watching them turn toward Henderson’s executive airport.
Before the convoy reached the airport itself, the first of the vehicles turned into the driveway of a large, windowless warehouse. Jason pulled the Land Rover to the curb and watched them. The three SUVs all parked outside a loading dock halfway down the length of the building, and the passengers got out.
He could see them now through his binoculars. Gabriel Fox was there, accompanied by Miss Shirley. The others were security, including faces he recognized from the previous evening. These weren’t ordinary guards; they were clearly trained black ops men. He counted nine of them.
Medusa.
Miss Shirley walked up to the loading dock and unlocked the door with a key. Two of the guards rolled up the white metal door on its rails, and two others opened up the rear panels of the three Volvos. Then Miss Shirley and Gabriel led them all inside, while one of the guards stayed outside as a sentry.
“Can you see inside the warehouse?” Abbey asked.
“No.”
A few minutes later, the guards emerged, pushing hand trucks loaded with wooden crates. One by one, they stored the crates inside the SUVs, and by the time they were done, they’d squeezed two dozen crates into the rear of the Volvos. At that point, they closed the loading dock door, and Miss Shirley relocked it. The vehicles headed back out to the road, and Bourne followed.
“I saw labels stamped on the crates,” Abbey said. “What did they say?”
“They were brand names for French vineyards. Champagne.”
“Another party?”
“Maybe.”
This time, the convoy headed for the airport. Jason stayed behind them until they drove to the fenced area leading to the taxiways, and then he pulled into the airport parking lot and used the binoculars again. The gate slid back, giving the SUVs access, and the Volvos drove in tandem toward a Gulfstream jet parked inside the airport fence. There, Gabriel Fox and Miss Shirley met two uniformed pilots, and the four of them got on board the jet.
Meanwhile, the guards in the SUVs loaded the crates of wine into the baggage compartment of the plane. When they were done, they climbed the steps into the passenger area.