Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Evolution - Brian Freeman Page 0,127
“Are you satisfied? Jason is on his way to Scotland.”
“Miles Priest?”
“Yes.”
Rollins took a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. “It’s me. Get the jet ready. I need to leave immediately. Destination is Glasgow, but keep this off the books. I don’t want any notice of the trip circulating on our computer systems. We don’t know who’s going to be watching for activity inside Treadstone.”
He hung up the phone and began gathering up his things in the Denver safe house where they’d spent the last day. Abbey found that she could barely look at him.
“That was well done, Ms. Laurent,” Rollins said. “Bourne wouldn’t tell many people what he told you. Obviously, he trusts you.”
Abbey said nothing. She wondered whether Jason trusting her would cost him his life. She’d hoped that he would lie when he realized she wasn’t alone, that he would give her the wrong information and send Nash Rollins off on a fruitless chase to the other side of the world. But she could hear in his voice that Jason had told her the truth. He really was going to Scotland, and for some reason, he wanted Treadstone to know it.
“You did the right thing by helping me,” Rollins added.
“Spare me your bullshit,” Abbey snapped back. “Am I free to go now? Can I finally get the hell out of here and go home?”
Rollins shrugged. “Of course. One of my agents will accompany you and make sure you get back home to Quebec City. Obviously, she’ll also be there in case you and Bourne make any further contact and you try to warn him away.”
Abbey shook her head. “He won’t contact me again.”
“Well, I’m taking no chances.”
Abbey got off the sofa, and her lip curled with disgust as she stared at the Treadstone agent. “I hate you people. All of you. You threaten, manipulate, plot, and kill, and somehow you convince yourself that none of this is wrong.”
Rollins paused in the safe house with his briefcase in his hand. Slowly, he put his hat on his head and then leaned on his cane. “I’m well aware that we have to cross terrible lines, Ms. Laurent.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“Theoretically? For a greater good.”
Abbey shook her head. “You want the greater good, Mr. Rollins? Look at Jason. He seems to be the only one who hasn’t forgotten what that is. Which is pretty ironic, isn’t it, given his past. What does it take to convince you of the truth? He’s not Medusa, and he never was. He’s been trying to take them down from the beginning. He still is.”
The Treadstone agent frowned. “Assuming you’re right—assuming Bourne isn’t simply lying to you, playing you—then what would you suggest I do?”
“You keep trying to kill him,” Abbey replied. “Maybe, instead, you should try to help him.”
FORTY-THREE
RAIN made the Highlands of Scotland green, and rain poured down in waves over Bourne’s head. He stood at the fringe of a thick stand of fir trees a quarter mile from Miles Priest’s castle outside the village of Glenfyrr. Manicured lawns and gardens surrounded the estate. Stony hills loomed in the distance, gray and ominous, swept by fog. The castle itself stood on a promontory high over the angry sea, built of old brown stone, with a single rounded tower facing the ocean. Turrets like the rooks of a chessboard lined the square wings that overlooked the gardens. Beyond the castle, he could see a cemetery and the decaying ruins of a chapel rising out of the green grass. The crumbling ramparts of the castle’s stone wall clung to the sheer cliff face.
It was what he didn’t see that worried him.
He didn’t see Medusa. And yet he knew they had to be here. Somewhere in the trees around him and on the beaches below the cliffs, a team of assassins waited for darkness. Then they would strike. Medusa would have no trouble penetrating the defenses here. No more than half a dozen guards, widely spread out, patrolled the grounds. He was surprised that Scott hadn’t boosted security, but maybe Medusa had outthought him this time with their plan.
Bourne waited until the next patrol passed out of sight. Then he broke from the trees and ran at full speed across the wet grass. The rain and twilight made him mostly invisible, just a dark blur against the forest. He reached the next stand of trees that hugged the high cliffs, and he heard the thunder of waves breaking against the jagged rocks a