The Jackal was trapped!
Now! Jason whipped out... The Jackal was trapped!
Now! Jason whipped out his last flare, yanked the release, and threw it with all his strength over
the stream of rushing men and women at the guardhouseDo it, Ben! he screamed in silence as he
removed the next-to-last grenade from the pocket of his field jacketDo it now!
As if in answer to his fevered plea, a thunderous roar came from the tunnel, round after round of
hysterical protestations punctuated by screams and shrieks and wailing chaosTwo rapid, deafening
bursts of automatic gunfire preceded unintelligible commands over the speakers, shouted in
RussianAnother burst and the same voice continued, louder, even more authoritative, as the
crowd momentarily but perceptibly quieted down, only to suddenly resume screaming at full
volumeBourne glanced over, astonished to see through the beams of the spinning searchlights the
figure of Benjamin now standing on the roof of the concrete guardhouseThe young trainer was
Robert Ludlum ?? THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM
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shouting into the microphone, exhorting the crowd to follow his instructions, whatever they wereAnd whatever they were, they were being obeyed! The multitude gradually, then gathering
momentum, began reversing direction—then, as a single unit, started racing back into the street!
Benjamin ignited his flare and waved it, pointing to the northHe was
twiggy balenciaga sending Jason his own
signalNot only was the tunnel shut down but the crowds were being dispersed without anyone
being shot with the AK-47There had been a better way
Bourne dropped to the ground, his eyes scanning the under sides of the stationary vehicles, the
spewing flame beyond lighting up the open spacesA pair of legs—in boots! Behind the third
automobile on the left, no more than twenty yards from the break in the fence that led to the tunnel
Carlos was his! The end was at last in sight! No time! Do what you have to do and do it quickly! He
dropped his weapon on the gravel, gripped the grenade in his right hand, pulled the pin, grabbed the
5 with his left hand and lurched off the ground, racing forwardRoughly thirty feet from the car
he dived back down into the gravel, turned sideways and heaved the grenade under the
automobile—only at the last instant, the small bomb having left his hand, realizing that he had
made a terrible error! The legs behind the car did not move—the boots remained in place, for they
were just that, boots! He lunged to his right, rolling furiously over the sharp stones, shielding his
face, curling his body into the smallest mass he could manage
The explosion was deafening, the lethal debris joining the whirling beams of the searchlights in
the night sky, fragments of metal and glass stinging Jason’s
montre cartier tank back and legsMove, move! screamed
the voice in his mind’s ears as he lurched to his knees, then to his feet in the smoke and fire of the
burning automobileAs he did so the gravel erupted all around him; he zigzagged wildly toward the
protection of the nearest vehicle, a square-shaped vanHe was hit twice, in his shoulder and thigh!
He spun around the wall of the van at the precise moment when the large windshield was blown
away
“You’re no match for me, Jason Bourne!” screamed Carlos the Jackal, his automatic weapon on
rapid fire“You never were! You are a pretender, a fraud!”
“So be it,” roared Bourne“Then come and get me!” Jason raced to the driver’s door, yanked it
open, then ran to the back of the vehicle where he crouched, his face to the edge, his Colt 5
angled straight up next to his cheekWith a final hissing expulsion, the flare beyond the fence
burned itself out as the Jackal stopped his continuous fireCarlos faced the
open door, unsure, indecisive Metal against metal; a gun barrel was rammed
against the door, slamming it shutNow!
Jason spun around the edge of the van, his weapon exploding, firing into the Spanish uniform,
blowing the gun out of the Jackal’s handsOne, two, three; the shells flew in the air—and then they
stopped! They stopped, the explosions replaced by a sickening, jamming click as the round in
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chamber failed to ejectCarlos lurched to the ground for his weapon, his left arm limp and bleeding
but his right hand still strong, clutching the gun like the claw of a crazed animal
Bourne whipped his bayonet out of its scabbard- and sprang forward, slicing the blade down
toward the Jackal’s forearmHe was too late! Carlos held the weapon! Jason lunged up, his left
hand clasping the hot barrel—hold on, hold on! You can’t let it go! Twist it! Clockwise! Use the
bayonet—no, don’t! Drop it! Use both hands! The conflicting commands clashed in his head,
madnessHe had no breath, no strength; his eyes could not focus—the shoulderLike Bourne
himself, the Jackal was wounded in his right shoulder!
Hold on! Reach the shoulder but hold on! With a last, gasping final surge, Bourne shot up and
crashed Carlos back into the side of the van, pummeling the wounded areaThe Jackal screamed,
dropping the weapon, then kicked it under the vehicle
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Where the blow came from, Jason at first did not know; he only knew that the left side of his
skull seemed suddenly split in twoThen he realized that he had done it to himself! He had slipped
on the blood-covered gravel, and had crashed into the metal grille of the vanIt did not matter—
nothing mattered!
Carlos the Jackal was racing away! With the rampant confusion
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hundred ways he could get out of NovgorodIt had all been for nothing!
Still, there was his last grenadeWhy not? Bourne removed it, pulled the pin, and threw it over
the van into the center of the parking areaThe explosion followed and Jason got to his feet;
perhaps the grenade would tell Benjamin something, warn him to keep his eyes on the area
Staggering and barely able to walk, Jason started for the break in the fence that led to the
guardhouse and the tunnel Oh, God, Marie, I failed! I’m so sorryNothing! It was for nothing!
And then, as if all Novgorod were having a final laugh at his expense, he saw that someone had
opened the iron gates to the tunnel, giving the Jackal his invitation to freedom?” Benjamin’s astonished voice floated over the sounds of the river, followed by the
sight of the young Soviet running out of the guardhouse toward Bourne“Christ almighty, I thought
you were dead!”
“So you opened the gates and let my executioner walk away,” yelled Jason weakly“Why didn’t
you send a limousine for him?”
“I suggest you look again, Professor,” replied a breathless Benjamin as he stopped in front of
Bourne, studying Jason’s battered face and bloodstained clothing“Old age has withered your
eyesight
“What?”
“You want gates, you’ll have gates The trainer shouted an order toward the guardhouse
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