Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Evolution - Brian Freeman Page 0,118
on the island.”
“What problem?”
They felt the helicopter slow sharply, and the pilot increased altitude, climbing vertically so that the island pier and beach came into view below them. At first, Priest didn’t understand what he was seeing, but as the picture became clear, he sucked in his breath with a distraught hiss. “Jesus. Are those bodies?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go lower! Let me see!”
“Negative, sir. We can’t take the risk.”
Scott found a pair of binoculars in one of the compartments of the helicopter. He used them to peer out the window. “Holy shit. There’s blood everywhere, Miles. I count six of the cabal, and they appear to be dead. That includes Tyler Wall.”
“Medusa! It’s a massacre!”
“If we hadn’t been late, we’d be dead, too,” Scott murmured.
“Tom, get us out of here!” Priest roared.
“Yes, sir.”
Before the helicopter could move, Priest stared down at the appalling carnage on the beach again. He barked into the microphone. “Wait a minute, wait, hold your position. What’s that?”
Immediately below the helicopter, Priest saw a man dressed in black break from the cover of the trees. The man ran across the sand toward the nearest body, and then his face tilted skyward to stare at them as they hovered over the island. From their altitude, he was little more than a stick figure on the beach.
“Who is that?” Priest asked.
Scott focused the binoculars again. When he spoke, his voice had a dark cast. “It’s Bourne, Miles. It’s Jason Bourne.”
FORTY
BOURNE expected gunfire from the silver helicopter. Instead, seconds later, he watched it veer away from the island and head back across the ocean.
When it was gone, he kept his gun trained on the yacht, anticipating a new assault. But the boat looked dark and quiet against the huge expanse of water. He made his way through the murder scene on the beach and found no survivors. The bodies of the CEOs lay sprawled near the trees, where they’d been cut down as they tried to run. Shadows lengthened over the corpses like funeral shrouds.
The assassins had already moved inland. He saw tire tracks in the sand, leading to a winding road that headed up the slope of the island. He sprinted in pursuit around a series of tight curves, his arms and legs pumping furiously. Half a mile later, he stopped as he spotted two Jeeps parked at an angle, blocking the road ahead of him. He waited, observing the scene, then silently moved closer.
Behind the Jeeps, Miles Priest’s lavish estate rose above the Caribbean jungle. It was five stories high, painted in sea foam green, with airy balconies on every level to take advantage of the ocean breezes. The estate was surrounded by a high-tech security wall constructed of nine-foot steel pillars built side by side to let the light in but keep intruders out. Cameras topped the spiked pillars at regular intervals, providing a complete surveillance picture inside and out. A high two-paneled gate stretched across the entrance road. Bourne wasn’t sure how Medusa planned to invade the estate or how they expected to remain unseen.
He moved off the road into the trees and picked his way toward the gate. When he was close, he focused binoculars on the interior grounds. The entire estate had been possessed by an eerie quiet, as complete as a ghost town. Nothing moved. The walking trails and swimming pools were empty. But as he examined the upper balconies, he saw a red pinpoint light come and go. The guards were armed and waiting, with telescopic sights surveying the area inside the wall.
The tech cabal wouldn’t go down without a fight, but they were training their guns on the main gate, and Medusa wasn’t there. Miss Shirley and her team had vanished.
Where were they?
Bourne followed the estate wall. He navigated the dense jungle, picking apart the branches. Every few steps, he stopped to listen for the noise of the assassins ahead of him, but he didn’t hear a thing. The wall continued without interruption for at least two hundred yards, until he finally reached a corner that marked the edge of the estate grounds. He still saw no way to breach the wall and no sign that Medusa had done so.
Then he realized he had company.
He smelled the man before he saw him or heard him. The breeze across the hilltop brought the musk of body odor. Bourne froze. He sank low to the ground, hidden inside the web of leaves. On his belly, he crept forward an inch at a time, peering