Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Evolution - Brian Freeman Page 0,40
phone and dialed Treadstone in New York.
“It’s me,” he said. “I’m heading home.”
“The tone of your voice suggests you failed again.”
Rollins fumed silently. “Yes. Bourne made it out of the city. He took the journalist with him, and after that, he disappeared. I assume he’ll head back to the U.S.”
“What’s his next target?”
“Unknown.”
“Director Shaw won’t be happy. He’s getting pressure from Congress. One of their own was murdered, and the assassin is one of ours. Cain needs to be eliminated. Soon.”
Rollins didn’t need headquarters telling him what he already knew.
“Activate all of our assets around the U.S.,” he told her, “and tell them to keep a close eye on our safe houses. Cain knows all of them. He could show up anywhere. Issue a kill-on-sight order, and make sure we warn everyone who knows him. Jason Bourne isn’t Treadstone anymore. He’s Medusa.”
*
BOURNE used a penlight to guide him through the trees. Every few steps, he stopped, listening. He had the Medusa assassin’s gun in his hand. Even out here, even at night, there were always threats. He didn’t know what Abbey Laurent would do now that she was free. She might go back to Quebec City, as he’d told her to do. Or she might pull off the road at the next town and call the police.
It was also possible that his contact in Montreal had turned against him. He and Nova had relied on the man many times, but payoffs had a way of trumping loyalty. Jason kept off-the-books contacts in most cities, but he was a marked man now, and even the most reliable sources could smell a lucrative payday. He didn’t know whether to expect a welcoming party when he went for the car.
He turned off the flashlight as he neared the main highway. At the end of the trail, nearly two dozen cars filled a small parking lot used by backpackers hiking into the mountains. He spotted the truck that had been left for him, a beat-up forest-green Land Rover. Instead of heading for the vehicle, he stayed on the fringe of the trees and circled the parking lot, coming up on the Land Rover from behind. He moved silently, leading with the gun.
No one was here.
They hadn’t found him yet.
Jason crossed the pavement to the truck. He checked under the chassis for explosives or tracking devices, but found nothing. Then he located the keys in a metallic case under the front bumper and let himself inside the vehicle. The truck had a stale smell of fake pine from an air freshener dangling under the mirror. He checked under the dashboard and found a thick envelope that contained twenty-five thousand dollars in cash from one of his personal accounts.
Time to go.
He turned the key in the ignition and switched on the headlights. When he did, he grabbed for his gun.
Abbey Laurent stood in front of the car.
Jason threw open the door and leaped out, pointing the gun at her chest. She put up her arms and spread her fingers wide.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.
When Abbey didn’t answer, Bourne walked over to her and pressed the suppressor against her forehead. “I said, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
“What does that mean? You’re working with them, aren’t you? You’re one of them.”
Her voice was steady as she replied. “I’m not. I swear I’m not. I’m exactly who you think I am.”
“Then why did you come back? I let you go.”
“Because I want to go with you,” Abbey said.
“What?”
Jason saw a fierce determination in her eyes. “Look, I may not trust you, but I trust everyone else even less. Plus, I’m a writer, and this story isn’t over. You said you want to expose the conspiracy? So do I. These people killed Michel, and they tried to kill me. I want to find out the truth about who they are.”
“You’re insane.”
“Maybe I am.”
“You’ll slow me down. You’ll wind up dead.”
“I know the risks. That’s my choice. If I slow you down, then fine, leave me behind. But you might find you can use me. A man traveling alone attracts a lot more attention than a man and a woman together. I’m your cover.”
Jason frowned, but he couldn’t argue with her logic.
“See?” Abbey went on. “You know I’m right. Take me to New York with you. That’s where Carson Gattor is. You already said he’s the first link in the chain that leads to Medusa. You know it’s not going to be