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Monday, May 31st, 2010

    Time Event
    12:27a
    Everything’s a mess! I’ve got the police...
    Everything’s a mess! I’ve got the police heading
    out there—”
    “Screw the police, Alex!” screamed Marie“Get the army, the marines, the lousy CIA! We’re
    owed!”
    “Jason won’t allow thatI can’t turn on him now
    “Well, try this for sizeThe Jackal will be here tomorrow!”
    “Oh, Jesus! I have to get him a jet somewhere
    “You have to do something!”
    “You don’t understand, MarieThe old Medusa surfaced—”
    “You tell that husband of mine that Medusa’s history! The Jackal isn’t, and he’s flying in here
    tomorrow!”
    “David’ll be there, you know thatBecause he’s Jason Bourne now
    “Br’er Rabbit, this ain’t thirteen years ago, and you just happen to be thirteen years older
    You’re not only gonna be useless, you’re gonna be a positive liability unless you get some rest,
    preferably sleepTurn off the lights and grab some sack time in that big fancy couch in the living
    roomI’ll man the phones, which ain’t gonna ring ’cause nobody’s callin’ 925 tiffany's necklace at four o’clock in the
    morning
    Cactus’s voice had faded as Jason wandered into the dark living room, his legs heavy, his lids
    falling over his eyes like lead weightsHe dropped to the couch, swinging his legs slowly, with
    Robert Ludlum ?? THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM
    133
    effort, one at a time, up on the cushions; he stared at the ceilingRest is a weapon, battles won and
    lost His inner screen went black and sleep came
    A screaming, pulsating siren erupted, deafening, incessant, echoing throughout the cavernous
    house like a sonic tornadoBourne spastically whipped his body around and sprang off the couch,
    at first disoriented, unsure of where he was and for a terrible moment
    “Cactus!” he roared, racing out of the ornate living room into the hallway“Cactus!” he shouted
    again, hearing his voice lost in the rapid, rhythmic crescendos of the siren-alarm“Where are you?”
    NothingHe ran to the door of the study, gripping the gucci men wallet knobIt was locked! He stepped back and
    crashed his shoulder against it, once, twice, a third time with all the speed and strength he could
    summonThe door splintered, then gave way and Jason hammered his foot against the central panel
    until it collapsed; he went inside and what he found caused the killing machine that was the product
    of Medusa and beyond to stare in ice-cold furyCactus was sprawled over the desk, under the light
    of the single lamp, in the same chair that had held the murdered general, his blood forming a pool
    of red on the blotter—a corpseNo, not a corpse! The right hand moved, Cactus was alive!
    Bourne ran to the desk and gently raised the old man’s head, the shrill, deafening, allencompassing
    alarm making communication—if communication were possible—impossible
    Cactus opened his dark eyes, his trembling right hand moving down the blotter, his forefinger
    curved and tapping the top of the desk
    “What is torebki louis vuitton it?” yelled JasonThe hand kept moving back toward the edge of the blotter, the
    tapping more rapid“Below? Underneath?” With minuscule—nearly imperceptible—motions of his
    head, Cactus nodded in the affirmative“Under the desk!” shouted Bourne, beginning to
    understandHe knelt down to the right of Cactus and felt under the thin top drawer, then to the
    side— He found it! A buttonAgain gently, he moved the heavy rolling chair inches to the left and
    centered his eyes on the buttonBeneath it, in tiny white letters on a black plastic strip, was the
    answerAlarm
    Jason pressed the button; instantly the shrieking pandemonium was cut offThe ensuing silence
    was nearly as deafening, the adjustment to it nearly as terrifying
    “How were you hit?” asked BourneIf you can talk, just whisper, no energy
    at all, do you understand?”
    “Oh, Br’er, you’re too much,” whispered Cactus, in pain“I was a black cabdriver in
    Washington, manI’ve louis vuitton mahina been here beforeIt ain’t fatal, boy, I gotta slug in the upper chest
    “I’ll get a doctor right away—our friend Ivan, incidentally—but if you can, tell me what
    happened while I move you to the floor and look at the damage Jason slowly, carefully lowered
    the old man off the chair and onto the throw rug beneath the bay windowHe tore off Cactus’s
    shirt; the bullet had gone through the flesh of the left shoulderWith short, swift movements
    Bourne ripped the shirt into strips and tightly wrapped a primitive bandage around his friend’s
    chest and between the underarm and the shoulder“It’s not much,” said Jason, “but it’ll hold you
    for a while
    “He’s out there, Br’er!” Cactus coughed weakly, lying back on the floor“He’s got a big mother
    ’fifty-seven magnum with a silencer; he pinned me through the window, then smashed it and
    climbed inside
    “Easy! Don’t talk, never mind—”
    “I gottaThe brothers out there, they ain’t got no chanel earrings hardw

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