maybe not," replied the former intelligence officer breathlessly as sirens and whistles were heard in the distance.
"You said it was a trap!"
"Because we both got a crazy telegram from David using a name he hasn't used in five years--Jason Bourne! And if I'm not mistaken, your message also said that under no condition should we call his house."
"That's right."
"It's a trap. ... You move better than I do, Mo, so move those legs of yours. Get out of here--run like a son of a bitch and find a telephone. A pay phone, nothing traceable!"
"What?"
"Call his house! Tell David to pack up Marie and the kids and get out of there!"
"What?"
"Someone found us, Doctor! Someone looking for Jason Bourne--who's been looking for him for years and won't stop until he's got him in his gun sight. ... You were in charge of David's messed-up head, and I pulled every rotten string in Washington to get him and Marie out of Hong Kong alive. ... The rules were broken and we were found, Mo. You and me! The only officially recorded connections to Jason Bourne, address and occupation unknown."
"Do you know what you're saying, Alex?"
"You're goddamned right I do. ... It's Carlos. Carlos the Jackal. Get out of here, Doctor. Reach your former patient and tell him to disappear!"
"Then what's he to do?" "I don't have many friends, certainly no one I trust, but you do. Give him the name of somebody--say, one of your medical buddies who gets urgent calls from his patients the way I used to call you. Tell David to reach him or her when he's secure. Give him a code."
"A code?"
"Jesus, Mo, use your head! An alias, a Jones or a Smith--"
"They're rather common names--"
"Then Schicklgruber or Moskowitz, whatever you like! Just tell him to let us know where he is."
"I understand."
"Now get out of here, and don't go home! ... Take a room at the Brookshire in Baltimore under the name of--Morris, Phillip Morris. I'll meet you there later."
"What are you going to do?"
"Something I hate. ... Without my cane I'm buying a ticket for this fucking roller coaster. Nobody'll look for a cripple on one of these things. It scares the hell out of me, but it's a logical exit even if I have to stay on the damn thing all night. ... Now get out of here! Hurry!"
The station wagon raced south down a backcountry road through the hills of New Hampshire toward the Massachusetts border, the driver a long-framed man, his sharp- featured face intense, the muscles of his jaw pulsating, his clear light-blue eyes furious. Beside him sat his strikingly attractive wife, the reddish glow of her auburn hair heightened by the dashboard lights. In her arms was an infant, a baby girl of eight months; in the first backseat was another child, a blond-haired boy of five, asleep under a blanket, a portable guardrail protecting him from sudden stops. The father was David Webb, professor of Oriental studies, but once part of the notorious, unspoken-of Medusa, twice the legend that was Jason Bourne--assassin.
"We knew it had to happen," said Marie St. Jacques Webb, Canadian by birth, economist by profession, savior of David Webb by accident. "It was merely a question of time."
"It's crazy!" David whispered so as not to wake the children, his intensity in no way diminished by his whisper. "Everything's buried, maximum archive security and all the rest of that crap! How did anyone find Alex and Mo?"
"We don't know, but Alex will start looking. There's no one better than Alex, you said that yourself--"
"He's marked now--he's a dead man," interrupted Webb grimly.
"That's premature, David. `He's the best there ever was,' those were your words."
"The only time he wasn't was thirteen years ago in Paris."
"Because you were better--"
"No! Because I didn't know who I was, and he was operating on prior data that I didn't know a damn thing about. He assumed it was me out there, but I didn't know me, so I couldn't act according to his script. ... He's still the best. He saved both our lives in Hong Kong."
"Then you're saying what I'm saying, aren't you? We're in good hands."
"Alex's, yes. Not Mo's. That poor beautiful man is dead. They'll take him and break him!"
"He'd go to his grave before giving anyone information about us."
"He won't have a choice. They'll shoot him up to the moon with Amytals and his whole life will be on tape. Then they'll kill him and come after me ...