Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Evolution - Brian Freeman Page 0,99

mile, and then Bourne said, “Stop.”

The two of them got out of the vehicle. Jason spotted a rough track up the hillside that the SUV had followed. He began to climb, and Abbey climbed with him. The night was warm and silent except for their footsteps. He swung his flashlight back and forth across the desert land, seeing nothing but the scrub brush. Then, almost a hundred yards from the road, a reflection glinted back at him when he shined his light behind the rocks.

Jason hiked off the trail. He didn’t have to go far. The reflection came from a pair of glasses on a man’s face.

“Oh, shit,” Abbey said when she saw the body in the beam of his flashlight.

The manager of the Three Mountains casino, Andrew Yee, lay in the desert, his body stripped naked. He’d been shot in the throat.

THIRTY-FOUR

“WHAT did you say you do, Mr. Briggs?” the Henderson realtor asked Jason the following morning.

Bourne whipped off his sunglasses and gave her a grin. He dropped a little Texas twang into his voice. “Construction engineering, darling. Mostly in Dubai and Qatar. They love their big glass buildings over there.”

The Indian realtor, whose name was Iniya, smiled back with extremely white teeth. She was well into her forties but wealthy enough to look thirty. She had shoulder-length jet-black hair, overly red lips set against honey-colored skin, and smoldering green eyes. She wore a formfitting emerald designer dress, probably imported from Milan, and her breasts had been surgically enhanced to the size of small watermelons.

“And this would be … Mrs. Briggs?” Iniya asked, nodding at Abbey with pointed curiosity.

Abbey’s expression was severe. She had her hair tied tightly behind her head, and she wore an expensive two-piece navy suit they’d purchased in the Green Valley shops an hour earlier. “I’m Mr. Briggs’s attorney.”

“Oh, I see. Yes, of course.”

“Abigail here is a Harvard Law grad,” Jason went on. “I can’t say as I’m much of a fan of Hahvud types generally, but this gal is as smart as they come. My deal in Doha last fall? She out-negotiated some construction law hotshots from London twice her age on the procurement contracts and cut my sub costs by a third. The fact that she’s also mighty pretty to look at is just a bonus.”

“And you’re interested in building a house in the Sensara neighborhood?” Iniya asked.

“I am. Looks like my kind of homes up there. I like to have elbow room.”

“I understand, and you obviously have good taste, Mr. Briggs.”

“Charlie. Call me Charlie, Iniya. If we’re working together, we should be on a first-name basis.”

The realtor touched Jason’s shoulder with her long fingernails. “Okay. Charlie. Now, I do need to mention that the Sensara neighborhood is the most exclusive community in the Las Vegas valley. Privacy and security are both at a premium. You can expect to spend a minimum of seven to ten million dollars on a property there, and some of the homes have cost much more. Upwards of twenty million or even higher. Is that a price range with which you’re comfortable?”

Jason nodded toward Abbey. “Am I comfortable with that, Abigail?”

“It’s fine.”

“Abigail says it’s fine,” Jason told the realtor. “I leave the dollars and cents to her.”

“There’s also a background check before a prospective buyer can move forward. A rather extensive one.”

“Good to know. Every club has its membership rules, right? But of course, I have nothing to hide.”

“I’m sure,” Iniya said.

“How about we go take a look-see at the home sites? I assume the powers that be wouldn’t object to that?”

“Of course, that’s fine. You’ll need to leave your IDs at the guard gate. And I assume you’re not armed? Guests can’t bring weapons into Sensara.”

Jason smiled. “You’re talking to a man from Texas, darling. We’re always armed. But I left my guns at the hotel suite. Figured they might make my future neighbors nervous.”

“Then let’s go.”

The three of them used Iniya’s red Mercedes sedan to drive into the upper reaches of the Henderson hills, where the Volvo had gone the previous night. At the guard gate, Bourne supplied a driver’s license for himself and a passport for Abbey, and he hoped that her name didn’t trigger any red flags on a watch list. The guards took a close look at their faces but didn’t otherwise react. When they’d passed inspection, Iniya drove them through the gates, and they found themselves in a world of custom multimillion-dollar homes set amid the rocky peaks. Many of the homes

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