What were they doing?
Five patrol cars converged... What were they doing?
Five patrol cars converged on the row of stone houses, each successively screeching to a halt in
front of the structure on the rightThen a large black police van appeared, swinging directly around
to face the two entrances of the building, its searchlight shooting out as a squad of black-uniformed
men with automatic weapons leaped into the street and took up crouching attack positions only
partially concealed by the patrol cars—an assault was in the making!
FoolsGoddamned fools! To give Carlos a warning was to lose the Jackal! Killing was his
profession; escape, his obsessionThirteen years ago Bourne had been told that Carlos’s huge
retreat in the village hills of Vitry-sur-Seine outside Paris had more false walls and concealed
staircases than a nobleman’s Loire chateau in the time of Louis XIVThe fact that no one had ever
determined which estate it was, or whom it was assigned to, did not vitiate the all too acceptable
rumorsAnd with three supposedly separated structures on the boulevard Lefebvre, it was also all
too acceptable to presuppose hidden underground tunnels linking each to the others
For Christ’s sake, who had done this? Had a terrible error been made? Had he and Bernardine
been so obtuse as to think the Deuxième or Peter Holland’s Paris station of the CIA had overlooked
tapping into his Pont-Royal telephone or bribed or enlisted the
chanel shoulder bag various relays of operators on the
hotel’s switchboard? If so, that obtuseness was rooted in an absolute: it was next to impossible to
tap a phone on short notice in a relatively small hotel without being detectedTechnology required
a stranger on the premises, and bribe money spread around was countered with larger bribes by the
subject under surveillanceSantos? Bugs placed in the room by a chambermaid or a bellman? Not
likelyThe huge conduit to the Jackal, especially if he had reneged on their contract, would not
expose the JackalWho? How? The questions burned into Jason’s imagination as he watched in
horror and dismay the scene taking place on the boulevard Lefebvre
“On police authority, all residents will evacuate the building The orders over the loudspeaker
metallically echoed throughout the street“You have one minute before we take aggressive
procedures
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What aggressive procedures? screamed Bourne into the silent void of his mindInsanity! Who? Why?
The door at the top of the brick steps on the left side of the building opened firstA petrified
man, short, obese, in an undershirt, his trousers held up by suspenders, cautiously walked out into
the flood of the searchlight, spreading his hands in front of his face and turning his head away from
the blinding beam“What is it, messieurs?” he cried, his voice tremulous“I am merely
tiffany and co. jewelry a baker—a
good baker—but I know nothing about this street except that the rent is cheap! Is that a crime to the
police?”
“Our concerns are not with you, monsieur,” continued the amplified voice
“Not with me, you say? You arrive here like an army, frightening my wife and children into
thinking it is their last minutes on earth, and yet you say we don’t concern you? What kind of
reasoning is that? We live among fascists?”
Hurry up! thought JasonFor God’s sake, hurry! Every second is a minute in escape time, an
hour for the Jackal!
The door above the flight of brick steps on the right now opened, and a nun in the full flowing
black robe of a religious habit appearedShe stood defiantly in the frame, no fear whatsoever in her
almost operatic voice“How dare you?” she roared“These are the hours of vespers and you
intrudeBetter you should be asking forgiveness for your sins than interrupting those who plead
with God for theirs!”
“Nicely said, Sister,” intoned the unimpressed police officer over the loudspeaker“But we have
other information and we respectfully insist on searching your houseIf you refuse, we shall
disrespectfully carry out our orders
“We are the Magdalen Sisters of Charity!” exclaimed the nun“These are the sacrosanct quarters
of women devoted to Christ!”
“We respect your position, Sister, but we are still coming insideIf what you say is so, I’m sure
the
rolex watches for sale authorities will make a generous contribution to your cause
You’re wasting time! screamed Bourne to himselfHe’s getting away!
“Then may your souls be damned for transgression, but come ahead and invade this holy
ground!”
“Really, Sister?” asked another official over the loudspeaker“I don’t believe there’s anything in
the canons that gives you the right to condemn souls to hell on such a flimsy excuseGo ahead,
Monsieur InspectorUnder the habit, you may find lingerie more suited to the Faubourg
He knew that voice! It was Bernardine! What had happened? Was Bernardine no friend after
all? Was it all an act, the smooth talk of a traitor? If so, there would be another death that night!
The black-uniformed squad of antiterrorists, their automatic weapons bolted into firing mode,
raced to the base of the brick steps as the gendarmes blocked off the boulevard Lefebvre, north and
south, while the red and blue lights of the patrol cars incessantly blinked their bright warnings to all
beyond the area: Stay away
“May I go inside?” screamed the bakerNo one replied, so the obese man ran through his door
clutching his trousers
An official in civilian clothes, the obvious leader of the assault, joined his invading unit on the
pavement below the stepsWith a nod of his head, he and his men raced up the brick staircase
through the door held open by the defiant nun
Jason held his place at the
rolex quartz watch edge of the building, his body pressed against the stone, the sweat
pouring from his hairline and his neck, his eyes on the incomprehensible scene being played out on
the LefebvreHe knew the who now, but why? Was it true? Was the man most trusted by Alex
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Conklin and himself in reality another pair of eyes and ears for the Jackal? Christ, he did not want
to believe it!
Twelve minutes passed, and with the reemergence of Paris’s version of a SWAT team and its
leader, several members bowing and kissing the hand of the real or would-be abbess, Bourne
understood that his and Conklin’s instincts had been on true course
“Bernardine!” screamed the official approaching the first patrol car“You are finished! Out!
Never are you to talk to the lowest recruit in the Deuxième, even the man who cleans the toilets!
You are ostracized! If I had my way, you’d be shot! International murder in the boulevard
Lefebvre! A friend of the Bureau! An agent we must protect! A fucking nunnery, you miserable
son of a bitch! Shit! A nunnery! Get out of my car, you smelly pigGet out before a weapon goes
off by mistake and your stomach’s on the street, where it belongs!”
Bernardine lurched out of the patrol car, his old unsteady legs barely able to maintain balance,
twice falling into the streetJason waited, wanting to rush to his friend, but knowing he had to
d&g