Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Evolution - Brian Freeman Page 0,19

few blocks away from here. I can get the things to fix you up.”

“Are you saying I should let you go inside by yourself?” Bourne asked.

“Well, you could, but I’ll be honest. If you do that, I won’t come back.”

“That is honest. Except if I come inside with you, then I have to worry about Wallace driving off and calling the police.”

She smirked again. “You don’t need to worry about him. Wallace will be a good boy.”

“Because he wants to keep you alive?”

“Oh, no, he’d run out on me in a heartbeat to save his own neck. But you have his phone, and he likes to take pictures of me while I’m sucking his dick. I imagine his wife would find those pretty interesting.”

Wallace swore at her over and over in a loud voice.

Bourne smiled. “Have you ever done stitches?”

“Lots of times.”

He nodded. “Okay. Wallace, pull into the pharmacy lot when you see it. Don’t even think about trying to flag down a cop.”

“Wallace, give the man your wallet, too,” Amie added.

“What the hell for?” the businessman bellowed.

“That’s our deal, baby. You always pay.”

They reached the parking lot of the pharmacy, where the signs were in French. Bourne directed the businessman to park near the door so that he could watch the car through the windows. It was early evening, and the store was crowded when they went inside, but the number of people helped him keep a low profile. No one gave them a second glance. He took Amie by the hand in a tight grip, and she played her part, leaning her head against his shoulder as if they were lovers. He noticed an ATM near the wall and remembered he was low on cash.

“Do you know his bank code?” Bourne asked her.

“Sure.”

“Take out five hundred dollars.”

Amie shrugged. “Make it a thousand. He can afford it.”

“You’re something else,” Jason told her.

He avoided the bank camera as the girl made the transaction. When she handed him the cash, he gave two hundred dollars back to her. She smiled and stuffed the wad of bills in her pocket.

“So what’s the deal with you two?” Jason asked her. “You can do a lot better than him.”

“I know, but I have champagne tastes. Wallace helps with that. What about you? You want to tell me who you are and what you’re running from?”

“It’s better that you not know,” Jason replied.

“Yeah, I figured.”

They didn’t take long to buy the supplies they needed. When they were back in the Audi, Bourne directed Wallace to the highway, and they headed west out of town. Not long after, the houses thinned, and they found themselves in a densely wooded area. When they reached a cross street that led deeper into the forest, he directed the businessman to turn away from the coastal road. They drove for several miles, until they were on a deserted stretch hugged by trees on both sides. Wallace parked the sedan on the shoulder, and Bourne could feel the man’s panic rise.

“Let me take a look at your shoulder,” Amie said.

She got out of the passenger seat, came around to the rear of the car, and straddled Bourne’s lap in the back seat. She undid the buttons of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulder, where the bullet wound was bleeding. Using the gauze and antiseptic from the pharmacy, she cleaned the wound, removed the torn stitches, then dipped a needle in rubbing alcohol and poured some over the bullet hole, making him wince with pain. She set about closing him up again, and he was impressed. Her stitches were neater and tighter than the doctor had given him the previous night.

“You’re good at that,” he said.

“I know.” She winked at him.

Then she was done, and it was time to go. She got out of the car, and Bourne pointed the gun at Wallace’s head in the front seat. “Get out. Leave the keys.”

“Jesus, you’re going to shoot me! Shit! Shit!”

“I’m not going to shoot you, but I’m taking your car. You can walk back to town and report it missing. By then, I won’t need it. And remember, I still have your phone. Be nice to Amie, or I start texting your wife.”

“Shit!” Wallace said again, backing up toward the trees and yanking the belt of his pants over his stomach. Tears rolled down his round face.

Bourne climbed out of the rear seat. He opened the driver’s door and gestured at the young blonde. “You don’t need him. If you