Bourne said nothing; he didn't feel inclined to lie to her.
Outside a car passed, then another. A dog barked in the silence. The city seemed stilled, as if frozen in ice, not even its heart beating.
The ghost of a smile played across her wide lips. "Just like Trace."
After a time, her eyelids grew heavy. She curled up like a cat with her head on her arms. Now she did sigh and, within moments, was fast asleep. A short time later, so was he.
You must be insane," Soraya Moore said. "I'm not going to seduce Arkadin for you, Willard, or anyone else."
"I understand your concern," Marks said. "But - "
"No, Peter, I don't think you do. I really and truly don't. Otherwise there would be no but."
She got up and walked to the railing. They had been sitting on a bench down by the canal in Georgetown. Lights glittered and boats lay still and sleeping in their berths. Behind them, young people strolled by, drinking and nuzzling. Occasional bursts of laughter erupted from a scrum of teenagers some distance away who appeared to be texting one another. The night was blessedly mild with just a hint of clouds scudding across the filthy-looking sky.
Marks rose and followed her. He sighed, as if he were the aggrieved party, which further antagonized her.
"Why is it," she said hotly, "that women are so devalued, men only use them for their bodies."
It wasn't a question and Marks knew it. He suspected that a good deal of her anger stemmed from the fact that it was him - a good and trusted friend - asking this of her. And of course that had been Willard's scheme. He knew this assignment would be offensive to Soraya, more so than, perhaps, to other women who had a less positive self-image; he knew that Marks was the only person who would be able to sell it to her. Indeed, Marks was quite certain that if Willard had given her this assignment directly she would have told him to go fuck himself and left without a backward glance. And yet, as Willard must have foreseen, here she was. Though visibly fuming, she hadn't told him to fuck off.
"For centuries, as women were systematically held down by men, they devised their own unique ways to get what they wanted: money, power, a decision-making position in a male-dominated society."
"I don't need a lecture on women's role in history," she snapped.
Marks decided to ignore her comment. "Whatever else you might think, the indisputable fact is that women possess a unique ability."
"Would you please stop saying unique?"
"An ability to attract men, to seduce them, to find the chinks in their armor, and to use that weakness against them. You know better than I what a potent weapon sex can be when applied judiciously. This is especially true in the clandestine services." He turned to her. "In our world."
"Jesus Christ, you are the little fucker, aren't you?" She leaned on the railing, fingers enlaced, as a man might, with a man's confidence that was typical of her.
Marks pulled out his cell, brought up a head shot of Arkadin, handed it to her. "Handsome sonovabitch, isn't he? Magnetic, too, so I'm told."
"You disgust me."
"That sort of outrage doesn't become you."
"But screwing Arkadin does?" She thrust the cell back at him, but he didn't reach for it.
"Fight against it all you want, the fact remains that espionage work is what you do, this is what you are. More to the point, this is the life you chose. No one ever twisted your arm."
"No? What are you doing now?"
He took a calculated risk. "I haven't given you an ultimatum. You can get up and walk away anytime."
"And then what? I'll have nothing, I'll be nothing."
"You can return to Cairo, marry Amun Chalthoum, have babies."
He said this not unkindly, but the concept itself was unkind, or rather despicable. In any event, this was how it struck her. And all at once the full realization of how thoroughly M. Errol Danziger had fucked her dealt her its last, worst body blow. She was done at CI, which was bad enough, but he had made sure that she couldn't get a position at a competing government agency. One of the private risk management firms was also out of the question; she wasn't about to get involved with an organization of mercenaries like Black River. She turned away and bit her lip in order to hold back