The Janson Directive - By Robert Ludlum Page 0,194

the photographs. "Trapezium to metacarpal. That's another index. Check it out. The ventral surface of the scapula - you can see it against his shirt. Let's look at that ratio, too."

With the loupe and the ruler, she continued to look for and find tiny physical variances. The length of the forefinger in relation to the middle finger, the precise length of each arm, the exact distance from chin to Adam's apple. Skepticism melted as examples multiplied.

"The question is, Who is this man?" She shook her head bleakly.

"I think you mean the question is, Who are these men?"

She pressed her fingertips to her temples. "OK, try this on. Let's say you wanted to take everything this guy has. You kill him, and you take his place, because you've somehow made yourself look identical to him, almost. Now his life is your life. What's his is yours. It's genius. And to make sure you can get away with it, you go on some public outings pretending to be the guy, kinda like a dress rehearsal."

"But wouldn't the real Peter Novak catch wind of that?"

"Maybe, maybe not. But say you also had the goods on him, somehow, knew about some secret that he had tried to bury ... so you could blackmail him some kinda way. Couldn't that make sense of it?"

"When you've got no good explanations, the bad ones start looking better and better."

"I guess." Jessie sighed.

"Let's try another route. I can't get to Peter Novak, or whoever is calling himself that. Who else do we know who might know?"

"Maybe not the people trying to stop you, but whoever's giving the orders."

"Exactly. And I've a strong suspicion I know who that is."

"You're talking about Derek Collins," she said. "Director of Consular Operations."

"Lambda Team doesn't get dispatched without his direct approval," he said. "Let alone the other teams we've seen deployed. I think it's time I paid the man a visit."

"Listen to me," she said urgently. "You need to keep a good safe distance from that man. If Collins wants you dead, don't count on leaving his company alive."

"I know the guy," Janson said. "I know what I'm doing."

"So do I. You're talking about putting your head in the lion's mouth. Don't you know how crazy that is?"

"I've got no choice," Janson said.

Heavily, she said, "When do we leave?"

"There's no 'we.' I'm going by myself."

"You don't think I'm good enough?"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about," Janson said. "Are you looking for validation? You're good, Jessie. Top-drawer. Is that what you need to hear? Well, it's true. You're smart as a whip, you're fast on your feet, you're adaptable and levelheaded, and you're probably the best marksman I've come across. The point remains: what I've got to do next, I've got to do alone. You can't come along. It's not a risk you need to take."

"It's not a risk you need to take. You're going into the lion's den without so much as a chair and a whip."

"Trust me, it'll be a walk in the park," Janson said with a trace of a smile.

"Tell me you're not still sore about London. Because ... "

"Jessie, I really need you to reconnoiter the Liberty Foundation offices in Amsterdam. I'll rejoin you there shortly. We can't ignore the possibility that something, or somebody, might turn up there. As far as Derek Collins, though, I can take care of myself. It's going to be OK."

"What I'm thinking is, you're scared of putting me at risk," Jessie said. "I'd call that a lapse of professionalism, wouldn't you?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Hell, maybe you're right." She was silent for a moment, averting her gaze. "Maybe I ain't ready." Suddenly, she noticed a small splotch of blood on the back of her right hand. As she examined it more closely, she looked a little sick. "What I did today, in those hills ... "

"Was what you needed to do. It was kill or be killed."

"I know," she said in a hollow voice.

"You're not supposed to like it. There's no shame in what you're feeling. Taking the life of another human being is the ultimate responsibility. A responsibility I spent the past five years running from. But there's another truth you've got to remember. Sometimes lethal force is the only thing that will defeat lethal force, and though zealots and crazies may twist that precept to their own perverted ends, it remains a truth. You did what had to be done, Jessie. You saved the day. Saved me."