Untitled

Home - Profile - Archives - Friends

You give me the information I need, I deliver it... - Posted at 7:21 PM on Friday, February 5, 2010 by jiangjuanyan9819
You give me the information I need, I deliver it to London, and whether or not the blackbird accepts my clients? offer, you still receive the balance of the three million ?But you could disappear before then, couldn?t you?? ?Have me watched as you?ve been doing, have me followed to London and backI?ll even call you with the names of the airlines and the flight numbersWhat could be fairer?? ?One thing more could be fairer, Monsieur Simon,? replied Santos, pushing his immense frame out of the chair and baronially striding to a card table against the lacquered brick wall of his flat?If you will, please come over here Jason rose from the couch and walked over to the card table, instantly astonished?You?re thorough, aren?t you?? ?I try to beOh, don?t blame the concierges, they belong to youI?m much further below scaleChambermaids and stewards are more to my likingThey?re not so spoiled and nobody really misses them if they don?t show up one day Spread across the table were hermes birkins Bourne?s three passports, courtesy of Cactus in Washington, as well as the gun and the knife taken from him last night?You?re very convincing, but it doesn?t solve anything, does it?? ?We?ll see,? answered Santos?I?ll accept your money now?for my best efforts?but instead of your flying to London, have London fly to ParisWhen he arrives at the Pont- Royal, you?ll call me?I?ll give you my private number, of course?and we?ll play the Soviets? gameExchange for exchange, like walking across a bridge with our respective prisoners in tow The money for the information ?You?re crazy, SantosMy clients don?t expose themselves that wayYou just lost the rest of the three million ?Why not try them? They could always hire a blind, couldn?t they? An innocent tourist with a false bottom in his or her Louis Vuitton carryon? No alarms are set off with paperTry it! It is the only way you?ll get what you want, monsieur ?I?ll do what I can,? said Bourne ?Here is my telephone Santos picked up a fake gucci prearranged card from the table with numbers scrawled across it?Call me when London arrivesIn the meantime, I assure you, you will be watched ?You?re a real swell guy ?I?ll escort you to the elevator Marie sat up in bed, sipping hot tea in the dark room, listening to the sounds of Paris outside the windowsNot only was sleep impossible, but it was intolerable, a waste of time when every hour Robert Ludlum ?? THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM 255 countedShe had taken the earliest flight from Marseilles to Paris and had gone directly to the Meunce on the rue de Rivoli, the same hotel where she had waited thirteen years ago, waited for a man to listen to reason or lose his life, and in doing so, losing a large part of hersShe had ordered a pot of tea then, and he had come back to her; she ordered tea now from the night floor steward, absently perhaps, as if the repeated ritual might bring about a repetition of his appearance so long ago Oh, God, she had seen him! It was no illusion, no mistake, cartier watch fake it was David! She had left the hotel at midmorning and begun wandering, going down the list she had made on the plane, heading from one location to another without any logical sequence in mind, simply following the succession of places as they had come to her?that was her sequenceIt was a lesson she had learned from Jason Bourne thirteen years ago: When running or hunting, analyze your options but remember your first It?s usually the cleanest and the bestMost of the time you?ll take it So she had followed the list, from the pier of the Bateau Mouche at the base of the avenue George V to the bank on the Madeleine She had wandered aimlessly along the terraces of the last, as if in a trance, looking for a statue she could not remember, jostled by the intermittent groups of tourists led by loud, officious guidesThe huge statues all began to look alike; she had felt light-headedThe late August sun was blindingShe was about to sit down on a marble bench, remembering yet another hermes kelly dictate from Jason Bourne: Rest is a weaponSuddenly, up ahead, she saw a man wearing a cap and a dark V-necked sweater; he had turned and raced toward the palatial stone steps that led to the avenue Gustave VShe knew that run, that stride; she knew it better than anyone! How often had she watched him?frequently from behind bleachers, sight unseen?as he had pounded around the university track, ridding himself of the furies that had gripped himIt was David! She had leaped up from the bench and raced after him ?David! David, it?s me! Jason!? She had collided with a tour guide leading a group of JapaneseThe man was incensed; she was furious, so she furiously pummeled her way through the astonished Orientals, the majority shorter than she was, but her superior sight lines were no helpHer husband had disappearedWhere had he gone? Into the gardens? Into the street with the crowds and the traffic from the Pont d?I?na? For Christ?s sake, where? ?Jason!? she had screamed at the top of her d

Last Page :: Next Page

FreeBlog.org.uk, © 2007 - All rights reserved, part of the NFHiB Network.