Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Evolution - Brian Freeman Page 0,38
he’s a link in the chain that leads to Medusa.”
“What will you do if you find him?”
“Get him to tell me what he knows,” Bourne said.
“What does that mean? Are you going to torture him? Kill him?”
“It depends. I need him to be scared enough to send an alarm up the chain. He needs to reach out to his contact. And then I follow that person. That’s how it works.”
“You make it sound so normal,” Abbey said. “Not like twisted bullshit, which it is.”
“It’s just my world.”
She gripped the end of the pier with both hands. “If I tell you his name, how do I know you won’t kill me? We’re sitting in the middle of the forest where no one will ever find my body. You said yourself you only saved me because you needed me. What makes you any different from Medusa once I’ve outlived my usefulness?”
“I can’t give you any guarantees, Abbey. You wouldn’t believe them anyway.”
“So what are you saying? I should trust you? You just said I was smart not to trust you.”
“That’s right.”
“You know what, Mr. Mystery Man?” she snapped. “You’re scarier than the guy on the pier. I knew what his deal was. I knew what he was going to do to me. You, I have no idea. You’ve killed how many people in the past couple of days, and now you sit there like you’re not going to hurt me and like you’re some kind of hero.”
“I’m definitely not that,” Bourne said.
Abbey bit her lip. She didn’t trust this man, but she knew he was telling her the truth. She’d been set up. From the beginning, she’d been played. “Okay. His name is Carson Gattor. He’s a lawyer and partner at the firm of Davis, Nelvis and Bear in New York.”
“How did you get involved with him as a source?”
“I met him in Las Vegas,” Abbey replied.
Bourne closed his eyes. Gunfire exploded in his head again. He saw people running, blood on the ground. Sweat gathered on his neck despite the cold night air, and he felt his hands curling into fists. Nova!
“Are you okay?” Abbey asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Bourne said, trying to steady himself. “Why Las Vegas?”
“His firm represented the casino after the mass shooting there. I was doing a profile on the killer, Charles Hackman, and Carson helped me with background. He called me a couple of weeks after the article came out and told me how much he liked it. He said he had a story I might be interested in. In addition to his legal work, Carson is a big shot in New York political circles. That’s when he told me that Sofia Ortiz was planning a big rally to take on the tech companies and expose their cover-up of a huge data hack.”
“Did Gattor tell you how he knew about it?” Bourne asked.
“No, but the congresswoman confirmed it off the record when I interviewed her.”
“I know she did.”
“You know?” Abbey asked. Then her face darkened. “It was you. You broke into the magazine office and searched my desk. You found my voice recorder.”
He nodded. “I also found out that Medusa has been watching you. Your webcam was hacked. They’ve been keeping an eye on you, Abbey. Every keystroke on your computer has probably been monitored. You can also assume that your apartment is bugged.”
“This is crazy!” she replied.
“I know.”
“So what happens now?”
“Now I go after Carson Gattor,” Bourne said.
“I mean, you’ve got what you wanted. Do you kill me?”
Jason slipped a hand inside his pocket. He saw her flinch, expecting a gun. Instead, he pulled out the keys to the Renault and let them dangle from his fingers. “Here. Take the car.”
Abbey stared at him. “What?”
“Take the car. Drive back to Quebec City. When you get there, write the story. Everything. Write it all down and publish it. Make sure there isn’t any secret left that would give them a reason to come after you. Right now, you’re a loose end, but if you go public and put whatever you know online, they might decide you’re not worth the trouble to kill. But be prepared. They’ll come after you in other ways. They’ll discredit you. Smear you. They’ll paint you as a conspiracy nut, and they may even plant evidence to convict you of a crime. Watch your back, Abbey.”
“You’re really letting me go?” she asked.
“I told you I would.”
“And what the hell are you going to do if I take the car? Sit here in the