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Get away from me, David! screamed Jason Bourne in the silence of his mindLet me be the killer
you cannot be!
With each scissoring cut into the thick, high wire fence, he understood the inevitable, confirmed
by his heavy breathing and the sweat that fell from his hairlineNo matter how hard he tried to keep
his body in reasonable shape, he was fifty years of age; he could not do with ease what he did
thirteen years ago in Paris when, under orders, he had stalked the JackalIt was something to think
about, not dwell uponThere were Marie and his children now—David’s wife, David’s children—
and there was nothing he could not do as long as he willed it! David Webb was disappearing omega geneve from
his psyche, only the predator Jason Bourne would remain
He was through! He crawled inside and stood up, instinctively, rapidly checking his equipment
with the fingers of both handsWeapons: an automatic, as well as a CO2 dart pistol; Zeiss Ikon
binoculars; a scabbarded hunting knifeThey were all the predator needed, for he was now behind
the lines in enemy territory, the enemy that would lead him to CarlosThe bastard battalion from Vietnam, the unlogged, unsanctioned, unacknowledged
collection of killers and misfits who roamed the jungles of Southeast Asia directed by Command
Saigon, the original death squads who brought Saigon more intelligence input than all the vintage hermes searchand-
destroys put togetherJason Bourne had come out of Medusa with David Webb only a
memory—a scholar who had another wife, other children, all slaughtered
General Norman Swayne had been an elite member of Command Saigon, the sole supplier of the
old MedusaAnd now there was a new Medusa: different, massive, evil incarnate cloaked in
contemporary respectability, searching out and destroying whole segments of global economies, all
for the benefit of the few, all financed by the profits from a long-ago bastard battalion, unlogged,
unacknowledged—non-historyThis modern Medusa was the bridge to Carlos the JackalThe
assassin would find the principals irresistible as clients, and both camps would hermes bag demand the death of
Jason BourneThat had to happen! And for it to happen, Bourne had to learn the secrets concealed
within the grounds belonging to General Swayne, head of all procurements for the Pentagon, a
panicked man with a small tattoo on his inner forearm
Without sound or warning, a black Doberman crashed through the dense foliage, its frenzy in
full forceJason whipped the CO2 pistol from its nylon holster as the salivating attack dog lunged
for his stomach, its teeth baredHe fired into its head; the dart took effect in secondsHe cradled
the animal’s unconscious body to the ground
Cut its throat! roared Jason Bourne in silence
No, countered his other self, David WebbBlame the birkin hermes trainer, not the animal
Get away from me, David!
Robert Ludlum ?? THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM
9
1
The cacophony spun out of control as the crowds swelled through the amusement park in the
countryside on the outskirts of BaltimoreThe summer night was hot, and nearly everywhere faces
and necks were drenched with sweat, except for those screaming as they plunged over the crests of
a roller coaster, or shrieking as they plummeted down the narrow, twisting gullies of racing water
in torpedo sledsThe garishly colored, manically blinking lights along the midway were joined by
the grating sounds of emphatic music metallically erupting out of an excess of loudspeakers—
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