on a burst of speed. The hallway in front of him was clear, he dug in his pocket for his lighter, flicked on the flame. Then he pumped disinfectant out of the dispenser's nozzle. He could hear the pounding of Oserov's shoes, almost imagine the quickening of his breath.
All at once he turned and, in one motion, lit the highly flammable sanitizer, thrust out the dispenser, and threw it at his oncoming pursuer. He turned and ran, but the explosion caught him anyway, hurling him halfway down the corridor.
A fire alarm sounded, blasting through the cacophony of shouts, screams, running feet, flailing bodies, and flickering flames. He took off, but slowed to a walk as he rounded a corner. Two security guards and a pack of older doctors pushed by him, nearly knocking him off his feet. Blood started to trickle down his leg, hot and vital. Everything he saw was crystal clear, hard-edged, iridescent, pulsing with life. He held the door open for a woman in a wheelchair who held her baby in her arms. She thanked him and he laughed with such intensity that she laughed, too. At that moment a squad of grim-faced police came off the street through the door he was holding open, rushing right by him.
Chapter One
Book One
Chapter One
YES," SUPARWITA SAID, "that is the ring Holly Marie Moreau's father gave her."
"This ring." Jason Bourne held up the object in question, a simple gold band with engraving around the inside. "I have no memory of it."
"You have no memory of many things in your past," Suparwita said, "including Holly Marie Moreau."
Bourne and Suparwita were sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Balinese shaman's house deep in the jungle of Karangasem, in southeast Bali. Bourne had returned to the island to trap Noah Perlis, the spy who had murdered Holly years ago. He had pried the ring out of Perlis's grasp after he had killed him not five miles from this spot.
"Holly Marie's mother and father arrived here from Morocco when she was five," Suparwita said. "They had the look of refugees."
"What were they fleeing from?"
"Difficult to say for certain. If the stories about them are true, they chose an excellent place to hide from religious persecution." Suparwita was known formally as a Mangku, both a high priest and a shaman, but also something more, impossible to express in Western terms. "They wanted protection."
"Protection?" Bourne frowned. "From what?"
Suparwita was a handsome man of indeterminate age. His skin was a deep nut brown, his smile wide and devastating, revealing two rows of white, even teeth. He was large for a Balinese, and exuded a kind of otherworldly power that fascinated Bourne. His house, an inner sanctum surrounded by a lush, sun-dappled garden and high stucco walls, lay in deepest shadow so that the interior was cool even at noontime. The floor was packed dirt covered by a sisal rug. Here and there odd items of indeterminate nature - pots of herbs, clusters of roots, bouquets of dried flowers pressed into the shape of a fan - sprouted from floor or walls as if alive. The shadows, which filled the corners to overflowing, seemed constantly in motion as if formed from liquid rather than air.
"From Holly's uncle," Suparwita said. "It was from him they took the ring in the first place."
"He knew they stole it?"
"He thought it was lost." Suparwita cocked his head. "There are men outside."
Bourne nodded. "We'll deal with them in a minute."
"Aren't you concerned they'll burst in here, guns drawn?"
"They won't show themselves until I've left here; they want me, not you." Bourne touched the ring with his forefinger. "Go on."
Suparwita inclined his head. "They were hiding from Holly's uncle. He had vowed to bring her back to the family compound in the High Atlas Mountains."
"They're Berbers. Of course, Moreau means 'Moor,' " Bourne mused. "Why did Holly's uncle want to bring her back to Morocco?"
Suparwita looked at Bourne for a long time. "I imagine you knew, once."
"Noah Perlis had the ring last, so he must have murdered Holly to get it." Bourne took the ring in his hand. "Why did he want it? What's so important about a wedding ring?"
"That," Suparwita said, "is a part of the story you were trying to discover."
"That was some time ago. Now I wouldn't know where to start."
"Perlis had flats in many cities," Suparwita said, "but he was based in London, which was where Holly went when she traveled abroad during the eighteen months before she returned