Robert Ludlum - The Bourne Supremacy

Jason's Bourne's eyes had not lied. It was Liang, but the first question remained unanswered, even compounded by what Webb saw. Of the thousands upon thousands of public telephones in Kowloon – tucked away in crowded arcades and in recessed corners of darkened lobbies – Liang had chosen to use a pay phone on the inner wall of the walkway. It was exposed, in the open, in the centre of a wide thoroughfare that was in itself a dead end. It made no sense; even the rankest amateur had basic protective instincts. When in panic he sought cover.

Liang reached into his pocket for change, and suddenly, as if commanded by an inner voice, David knew that he could not permit that call to be made. When it was made, he had to make it. It was part of his strategy, a part that would bring him closer to Marie! The control had to be in his hands, not others!

He began running, heading straight towards the white plastic shell of the pay phone, wanting to shout but knowing he had to get closer to be heard over the sounds of the windblown waterfront. The assistant manager was dialling; his hand dropped to his side – he had finished. Somewhere a telephone was ringing.

'Liang!' roared Webb . 'Get off that phone! If you want to live, hang up and get out of there!'

The Chinese spun around, his face a rigid mask of terror. ' You!' he shouted hysterically, pressing his body back into the shell of white plastic . 'No... no! Not now! Not here!'

Gunfire suddenly filled the winds off the water, staccato bursts that joined the myriad sounds of the harbour. Pandemonium swept over the walkway as people screamed and shrieked, dropping to the ground or racing in all directions away from the terror of instant death.

'Aiya!' roared Liang, diving to the side of the telephone shell as bullets ripped into the wall of the walkway and cracked in the air overhead. Webb lunged towards the Chinese, crawling beside the hotel man, his hunting knife out of its scabbard. 'Do not! What are you doing? Liang screamed as David, lying sideways, gripped him by the front of his shirt and shoved the blade up into the manager's chin, breaking the skin, drawing blood. 'Ahhee!' The hysterical cry was lost in the pandemonium of the walkway.

'Give me the number! Now?

'Don't do this to me! I swear to you I did not know it was a trap!'

'It's not a trap for me, Liang,' said Webb breathlessly, the sweat rolling down his face. 'It's for you!'

'Me? You're mad! Why me?

'Because they know I'm here now, and you've seen me, you've talked to me. You made your phone call and they can't afford you any longer. '

'But why?

'You were given a telephone number. You did your job and they can't allow any traces. '

That explains nothing!'

'Maybe my name will. It's Jason Bourne. '

'Oh, my God... !' whispered Liang, his face pale as he stared at David, his eyes opaque glass, his lips parted.

'You're a trace,' said Webb. 'You're dead. '

'No, no!' The Chinese shook his head. 'It can't be! I don't know anyone, only the number! It is a deserted office in the New World Centre, a temporary telephone installed. Please! The number is three-four, four, zero, one! Do not kill me, Mr Bourne! For the love of our Christian God, do not do it!'

'If I thought the trap was for me, there'd be blood all over your throat, not your chin... Three-four, four, zero, one?'

'Yes, exactly!'

The gunfire stopped as suddenly and as startlingly as it had begun.

The New World Centre's right above us, isn't it? One of those windows up there. '

'Exactly!' Liang shuddered, unable to take his eyes off David's face. Then he shut them tight, tears dripping beneath his lids as he shook his head violently. 'I have never seen you! I swear on the cross of holy Jesus!'

'Sometimes I wonder if I'm in Hong Kong or the Vatican. ' Webb raised his head and looked around. All along the walkway terrified people were hesitantly beginning to rise. Mothers clutched children; men held women, and men, women and children got to their knees, then their feet and suddenly formed a mass stampede towards the Salisbury arch. 'You were told to make your call from here, weren't you?" said David rapidly, turning to the frightened hotel man.

'Yes, sir. '

' Why? Did they give you a reason?"

'Yes, sir. '

'For Christ's sake, open your eyes?

'Yes, sir. ' Liang did so, looking away as he spoke. They said they did not trust the guest who asked for Suite Six-nine-zero. He was a man who might force another to convey lies. Therefore they wanted to observe me when I spoke to them... Mr Bourne – no, I did not say that! Mr Cruett – I tried all day to reach you, Mr Cruett! I wanted you to know I was being pressed repeatedly, Mr Cruett. They kept phoning me, wanting to know when I would place my call to them -from here. I kept saying you had not arrived! What else could

I do? By trying to reach you so constantly, you can see I was trying to warn you, sir! It is obvious, is it not?

'What's obvious is that you're a damn fool. '

'I am not equipped for this work. '

'Why did you do it?

'Money, sir! I was with Chiang, with the Kuomintang. I have a wife and five children – two sons and three daughters. I have to get out! They search backgrounds; they give us incontestable labels with no appeals. I am a learned man, sir! Fudan University, second in my class – I owned my own hotel in Shanghai. But all that is meaningless now. When Beijing takes over, I am dead, my family is dead. And now you say I am dead as of this moment. What am I to do?'

'Peking – Beijing – won't touch the colony; they won't change anything,' said David, remembering the words Marie had said to him that terrible evening after McAllister had left their house. 'Unless the crazies take over. '

They are all crazy, sir. Believe nothing else. You don't know them!'

'Maybe not. But I know a few of you. And, frankly, I'd rather not . '

'"Let who is without sin among you cast the first stone, " sir. '

'Stones, but not bags of silver from Chiang's corruption, right?'

'Sir?

'What are your three daughters' names? Quickly?

They are... they are... Wang... Wang Sho-'

'Forget it!' yelled David, glancing down at the Salisbury arch. 'Ni bushi ren! You're not a man, you're a pig! Stay well, Liang-of-the-Kuomintang. Stay well as long as they let you. Frankly, I couldn't care less. '

Webb got to his feet, prepared to throw himself down again at the first irregular flash of light from a window above on his left. The eyes of Jason Bourne were accurate: there was nothing. David joined the stampede at the arch and slithered his way through the crowds to Salisbury Road.

He placed the call from a phone in a congested, noisy arcade off Nathan Road. He put his index finger in his right ear to hear more clearly.

' Wet?' said a male voice.

'It's Bourne, and I'll speak English. Where is my wife?'

'Wade tian ah! It is said you speak our language in numerous dialects. '

'It's been a long time and I want everything clearly understood. I asked you about my wife!'

'Liang gave you this number?'

'He didn't have a choice. '

'He is also dead. '

'I don't care what you do, but if I were you, I'd have second thoughts about killing him. '

'Why? He is lower than a worm. '

'Because you picked a damn fool, worse, an hysterical one. He talked to too many people. A switchboard operator told me he was calling me every few minutes-'

'Calling you?'

'I flew in this morning. Where is my wife-'

'Liang the liar!'

'You didn't expect me to stay in that suite, did you? I had him switch me to another room. We were seen talking together – arguing – with half a dozen clerks watching us. You kill him, there'll be more rumours than any of us want. The police will be looking for a rich American who disappeared. '