transpire here, Bourne was on his way to Odessa.
Returning to his desk, he opened the intercom and told his secretary to set up an immediate phone conference with all of Typhon's overseas agents. When that had been accomplished, he activated the speakerphone in the conference room where he had assembled an emergency meeting of all D.C. Typhon personnel. There he gave them what details he had of the threat, then outlined his plan. Dividing his people into four-man teams, he meted out assignments that, he told them, were to begin immediately.
"As of this moment, all other missions are frozen," he told them. "Finding and stopping Dujja is our first and only priority. Until that's accomplished, all leaves are hearby canceled. Get used to these walls, folks. We're going on a day-and-night emergency schedule."
Once he saw that his orders were being carried out to his satisfaction, he left to go to Soraya's apartment to straighten out whatever it was Matthew Lerner had fucked up with her. In the car, he opened his quad-band GSM cell phone and dialed a number in Odessa.
When the familiar male voice answered, Lindros said, "It's done. Bourne will be arriving at 4:40 local time tomorrow afternoon, from Munich." He ran a red light, made a right turn. Soraya's apartment building was three blocks ahead. "You will keep him on a short leash, as we discussed... No, I simply want to make sure you haven't decided to make changes to the plan on the fly. All right, then. He'll find his way to the kiosk because that's where he'll think Lemontov is headquartered. Before he can find out the truth, you'll kill him."
Chapter Twelve
Book Two
Chapter Twelve
IN ODESSA, there is a kiosk, one among many on the beach fronting the Black Sea. It is weathered, gray as the water that rolls into the tide line. Bourne picks the lock of a side door in the kiosk, steals his way inside. Where is the person he was carrying? He doesn't remember, but he sees that his hands are covered with blood. He smells violent death on himself. What happened? he wonders. No time, no time! Somewhere a clock is ticking; he has to move on.
The kiosk, which should be filled with life, is as still as a boneyard. At the back, a windowed kitchen, garishly lit by fluorescent tubes. He sees movement through the glass and, crouching, makes his way between the crates of beer and soda piled up like columns in a cathedral. He sees the silhouette of the man he was sent here to kill, who has done his best to confuse and elude him.
To no avail.
He's about to make the final approach to his target when movement to his left causes him to spin around. A woman comes toward him out of the shadows-Marie! What is she doing in Odessa? How did she know where he was?
"Darling," she says. "Come with me, come away from here."
"Marie." He feels panic constrict his chest. "You can't be here. It's too dangerous."
"Marrying you was dangerous, darling. That didn't stop me."
A high keening begins, reverberating through the empty space inside him. "But now you're dead."
"Dead? Yes, I suppose I am." A frown momentarily fractures the beauty of her face. "Why weren't you there, darling? Why weren't you protecting me and the children? I would be alive now if you hadn't been halfway across the globe, if you hadn't been with her."
"Her?" Bourne's heart is beating like a trip-hammer, and his panic grows exponentially.
"You're an expert at lying to everyone, except me, darling."
"What do you mean?"
"Look at your hands."
He stares down at the blood drying into the crevasses of his palms. "Whose blood is this?"
Wanting-needing-an answer, he looks up. But Marie is gone. There is nothing but the lurid light spilling out onto the floor like blood from a wound.
"Marie," he calls softly. "Marie, don't leave me!" Martin Lindros and his retinue of captors had been traveling for quite some time. He had flown in a helicopter and, after a short wait, on a small jet, which had stopped at least once for refueling. He wasn't sure because either he had slept or they had given him something to make him sleep. Not that it mattered. He knew he was off Ras Dejen, out of northwest Ethiopia, out of the continent of Africa altogether.
Jason. What had happened to Jason? Was he dead or alive? Clearly Jason had failed to find him in time. He didn't want to think about Jason