wan0208wan's Journal

@@@@@The impossible! The Jackal’s van blew up,
@@@@@The impossible!
The Jackal’s van blew up, the explosion firing the dark Paris sky, and the moment it happened a
brown limousine screeched around the nearest corner, the windows open, men in the black spaces,
weapons in their grips, spraying the entire area with thunderous, indiscriminate fireJason lunged
into the nearest recess, curling up into a fetal position in the shadows, accepting the fact—not in
fear but in fury—that it might well be his last moments of lifeFailed Marie and his
children! He spun off the concrete, the weapon in his handHe would kill, kill!
That was the way of Jason Bourne
Then the incredible happenedA siren? The police? The brown limousine shot
forward, skirting the flaming wreck of the Jackal’s van and disappeared into the dark streets as a
patrol car raced out of the opposing darkness, its siren screaming, the tires screeching as it skidded
to a stop only yards from the flames of the demolished vehicleNothing made sense! thought Jason
Where before there had been five patrol cars, only one had returnedWhy? And even that question
was superfluousCarlos had mounted a strategy employing not one but seven, conceivably eight,
decoys, all expendable, all led to their terrible death by the consummate self-protectorThe Jackal
had sprung himself from the trap that had been reversed by his hated quarry, Delta, the product of
Medusa, a creation of American intelligenceOnce again, the assassin had outthought him, but he
had not killed himThere would be another day, another night
“Bernardine!” screamed the Deuxième official who less than thirty minutes ago had officially
disowned his colleagueLeaping out of the patrol car, the man shouted again“Bernardine! Where
are you? My God, where are you? I came back, old friend, for I could not leave you! My God,
you were right, I see that now for myself! Oh, Christ, tell me you’re alive! Answer me!”
“Another is dead,” came the reply from Bernardine as his gaunt figure walked slowly, with
difficulty, out of the storefront two hundred feet north of Bourne“I tried to tell you but you would
not listen—”
“I was perhaps too hasty!” roared the official, running to the old man and embracing him as the
others in the patrol car, their arms crossed in front of their faces, surrounded the burning van but at
a considerable distance“I’ve radioed for our people to return!” added the official“You must
believe me, old friend, I came back because I couldn’t leave you in anger, not my old comradeI
had no idea that pig from the newspaper actually assaulted you, struck youHe told me and I threw
him out! I came back for you, you see that, don’t you? But, my God, I never expected anything
like this!”
“It’s horrible,” said the Deuxième veteran, while cautiously, his eyes straying rapidly up and
down the boulevard, he surveyed the areaHe specifically noted the many frightened, intense faces
in the windows of the three stone buildin