@@@@@Orders had been given couched in language
@@@@@Orders had been given couched in language far removed from Krupkin’s
instructions: Stay inside your rooms, pleaseOur people are investigatingIt was
always “our people,” never “the police,” never “the authorities”; with those names came panicAnd
panic was precisely what Medusa’s Delta One had in mindPanic and diversion, eternal
components for the human snare, lifelong allies in the springing trap
Robert Ludlum ?? THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM
391
He raised the Graz Burya automatic, aiming at one of the ornate hallway chandeliers, and fired
twice, simultaneously shouting furiously as the earsplitting explosions accompanied the shattered
glass that plummeted from the ceiling“There he goes! A black suit!” His feet pounding, Bourne
ran with loud emphatic strides down the corridor to the eighth door on the left, then past the door,
shouting once againthe exit!” He abruptly stopped, firing a third shot into another
chandelier, the jarring cacophony covering the absent noise of his pounding feet as he spun around,
throwing his back against the opposing wall of the eighth door, then pushing himself away, hurling
his body at the door and crashing into it, smashing it off its hinges as helurched inside, plunging to
the floor, his weapon raised, prepared for rapid fire
He was wrong! He knew it instantly—a final reverse trap was in the making! He heard another
door opening somewhere outside—he either heard it or he instinctively knew it! He rolled furiously
to his right, over and over again, his legs crashing into a floor lamp, sending it toward the door, his
panicked darting eyes catching a glimpse of an elderly couple clutching each other, crouching in a
far corner
The white-gowned figure burst into the room, his automatic pistol spitting indiscriminately, the
staccato reports deafeningBourne fired repeatedly into the mass of white as he sprang into the left
wall, knowing that if for only a split second he was positioned on the killer’s blind right flankIt
was enough!
The Jackal was caught in his shoulder—his right shoulder! The weapon literally snapped out of
his grip as he jerked up his forearm, his fingers spastically uncurled under the impact of the Graz
Burya’s penetrationWith no cessation of movement, the Jackal swung around, the bloody long
white robe separating, billowing like a sail as he grabbed the massive flesh wound with his left
hand and violently kicked the floor lamp into Jason’s face
Bourne fired again, half blinded by the flying shade of the heavy lamp, his weapon deflected by
the thick stemThe shot went wild; steadying his hand, he squeezed the trigger again, only to hear
the sickening finality of a sharp metallic click—the gun’s magazine was empty! Struggling to a
crouch, he lunged for the blunt, ugly automatic weapon as the white-robed Carlos raced through the
shattered doorway into the corridorJason got to his feet, but his knee collapsed! It had buckled
under his own weightOh, Christ! He crawled to the edge of the bed and dived over the pulleddown
sheets toward the bedside telephone—it had been demolished, the Jackal had shot it apart!
Carlos’s demented mind was summoning up every tactic, every counteraction he had ever used
Another sound! This loud and abruptThe crash bar on the hallway’s stairway exit had been
slammed into the opening position, the heavy metal door smashed back into the concrete wall of
the landingThe Jackal was heading down the flights of steps to the lobbyIf the front desk had
listened to Conklin, he was trapped!
Bourne looked at the elderly couple in the corner, affected by the fact that the old man was
covering the woman with his own bodysaid, trying to calm them by lowering
his voice“I know you probably don’t understand me—I don’t speak Russian—but you’re safe
now
“We don’t speak Russian either,” admitted the man, an Englishman, in clipped, guarded tones,
straining his neck as he looked at Jason while trying to ris