The well-dressed man and wife from the Italian...
The well-dressed man and
wife from the Italian embassy were nowhere in sight
Sergei suddenly rushed forward, his weapon on auto fire; in a rear corner of the room he had
spotted a figure whom Bourne had not seenThe stocking-faced killer sprang out of the shadows,
his machine swinging into position, but before he could exercise his advantage, the Soviet cut him
downAnother! A body lurching behind the short counter that served as a barWas it the Jackal?
Jason pivoted into the diagonal wall, crouching, his eyes darting into every recess in the vicinity of
the wine racksHe lunged to the base of the bar as the second Russian backup, assessing the
situation, ran to the hysterical women, spinning around, his gun swinging back and forth protecting
themThe stocking-faced head shot up from behind the counter, his weapon surging out over the
woodBourne sprang to his feet, gripping the hot barrel with his left hand, his right commanding
the AK-47; he fired point-blank into the terrorist’s contorted face beyond the silk
Where was the Jackal?
“In there!” shouted Sergei as if he had heard Jason’s cheap imitation chanel bags furious question
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“Where?”
“Those doors!”
It was the country restaurant’s kitchenBoth men converged on the swinging doorsAgain
Bourne nodded, the signal for them to crash inside, but before they could move, both were partially
blown back by an explosion from within; a grenade had been set off, with fragments of metal and
glass embedded in the doorsThe smoke billowed, wafting out into the dining room; the smell was
acrid, sickening
Jason and Sergei once more approached the kitchen’s entrance, and once again they were
stopped by a second sudden explosion followed by staccato gunfire, the bullets piercing the thin,
louvered panels of the swinging doors
It was too much for the furious, impassioned ChameleonHe cracked the bolt of his AK-47,
pulled the selective lever and then the trigger for auto fire, and crashed the doors open, lunging for
the floor
Another scene from another hellA section of the outside wall had been blown away, the obese
owner and his chef, still wearing his toque, were dead, corpses pinned against the lower shelves of
the cheap chanel bags online kitchen, blood streaming across and down the wood
Bourne slowly rose to his feet, his legs in agony, every nerve in his body frayed, the edge of
hysteria not far awayAs if in a trance, he looked around through the smoke and the debris, his eyes
finally settling on a large, ominous fragment of brown butcher’s paper nailed to the wall with a
heavy cleaverHe approached it and, yanking out the cleaver, read the words printed in a black
butcher’s pencil:
The trees of Tannenbaum will burn and children will be the kindlingSleep well, Jason Bourne
The mirrors of his life were shattered into a thousand pieces of glassThere was nothing else to
do but scream
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“Stop it, David!”
“My God, he’s insane, AlekseiSergei, grab him, hold himYou, help Sergei! Put him on the
ground so I can talk to himWe must leave here quickly!”
It was all the two Russian aides could do to wrestle the screaming Bourne to the grassHe had
raced out through the exploded hole in the wall, running into the high grass in a futile attempt to
find the Jackal, firing his AK-47 into the field gucci online beyond until his magazine was emptySergei and the
surviving backup had rushed in after him, the former ripping the weapon out of Jason’s hands,
together leading the hysterical man back to the rear of the mutilated country inn, where Alex and
Krupkin were waiting for themForcibly, their charge in a sweating, erratically breathing trance,
the five men walked rapidly to the front of the restaurant; there the uncontrollable hysteria again
seized the Chameleon
The Jackal’s van was goneCarlos had reversed his line of flight and escaped and Jason Bourne
had gone mad
“Hold him!” roared Krupkin, kneeling beside Jason as the two aides pinned Bourne to the
groundThe KGB officer reached down and spread his hand across the American’s face, gouging
his cheeks with thumb and forefinger, forcing Treadstone Seventy-one to look at him“I’ll say this
once, MrBourne, and if it doesn’t sink in, you may stay here by yourself and take the
consequences! But we must leaveIf you get hold of yourself, we’ll be in touch with the proper
officials of your government within the hour from ParisI’ve read the warning new louis vuitton bags to you and I can
assure you your own people are capable of protecting your family—as your family was explained
to me by AlekseiBut you, yourself, must be part of that communicationYou can become rational,
MrBourne, or you can go to hellWhich will it be?”
The Chameleon, straining against the knees pinning him to the ground, exhaled as if it were his
final breathHis eyes came into focus and he said, “Get these bastards off me
“One of those bastards saved your life,” said Conklin
“And I saved one of theirs
The armor-plated Citro?n sped down the country road toward the Paris highwayOn the
scrambled cellular telephone, Krupkin ordered a team to Epernon for the immediate removal of
what was left of the Russian backup vehicleThe body of the slain man had been placed carefully
in the Citro?n’s trunk, and the official Soviet comment, if asked for, was one of noninvolvement:
Two lower-level diplomatic staff had gone out for a country lunch when the massacre occurred
Several killers were in stocking masks, the others barely seen as the staff members escaped through
a back door, running for their cartier watch fake l