The Bourne Supremacy

The major spun around, his eyes wide in shock. Marie raced into the Botanical Gardens; it was the key Cain is for Delta and Carlos will be killed by Cain... or whatever the codes were that had been spread through Paris! They were using David again! It wasn't a probability any more, it was the reality! They – it – the United States government – was sending her husband out to play the role that had nearly killed him, killed by his own people! What kind of bastards were they?... Or, conversely, what kind of ends justified the means supposedly sane men would use to reach them?

Now more than ever she had to find David, find him before he took risks others should be taking! He had given so much and now they asked for more, demanded more in the cruellest way possible. But to find him she had to reach Catherine, who was no more than a hundred yards away. She had to draw out the enemy and get back across the street without the enemy seeing her. Jason, what can I do!

She hid behind a cluster of bushes, inching farther inside as the major ran through the Garden's gates. The immense Oriental stopped and looked around with his squinting, penetrating gaze, then turned and shouted for a subordinate, who had apparently emerged from an alley on Arbuthnot Road. The second man had difficulty getting across the street; the traffic was heavier and slower due to the stationary ambulance and two additional vehicles blocking the normal flow near the entrance to the gardens. The major suddenly grew furious as he saw and understood the reasons for the growing traffic.

'Get those fools to move the cars!' he roared. 'And send them over here... No! Send one to the gates on Albany Road. The rest of you come back here! Hurry

The early evening strollers became more numerous. Men loosened the ties they had worn all day at their offices, while women carried high-heeled shoes in casual bags, supplanting them with sandals. Wives wheeling baby carriages were joined by husbands; lovers embraced and walked arm in arm among the rows of exploding flowers. The laughter of racing children peeled across the gardens, and the major held his place by the entrance gate. Marie swallowed, the panic in her growing. The ambulance and the two cars were being moved; the traffic began to flow normally.

A crash! Near the ambulance an impatient driver had rammed the car in front of him. The major could not help himself; the proximity of the accident so close to his official vehicle forced him to move forward, obviously to ascertain whether or not his men were involved. Opportunities will present themselves... use them. Now!

Marie raced around the far end of the bushes, then dashed across the grass to join a foursome on the gravel path that led out of the Gardens. She glanced to her right, afraid of what she might see but knowing she had to know. Her worst thoughts were borne out; the huge major had sensed – or seen – the figure of a woman running behind him. He paused for a moment, uncertain, unsure, then broke into a rapid stride towards the gate.

A horn blew – four short, quick blasts. It was Catherine, waving at her through the open window of a small Japanese car as Marie raced into the street.

'Get in!' shouted Staples.

'He saw me!'

'Hurry?

Marie jumped into the front seat, as Catherine gunned the small car and swerved out of line, half on the pavement, then swung back with a break in the accelerating traffic. She turned into a side street and drove swiftly down it to an intersection where there was a sign with a red arrow pointing right. Central. Business District. Staples turned right.

'Catherine!' shouted Marie. 'He saw me!'

'Worse,' said Staples. 'He saw the car. '

'A two door green Mitsubishi!' shouted Wenzu into his handheld radio. 'The licence number is AOR-five, three, five, zero – the zero could be a six, but I don't think so. It doesn't matter, the first three letters will be enough. I want it flashed on all points, emergency status using the police telephone banks! The driver and the passenger are to be taken into custody and there are to be no conversations with either party. It is a Government House matter and no explanations will be given. Get on this! Now!'

Staples turned into a parking garage on Ice House Street. The newly-lighted bright red sign of the Mandarin could be seen barely a block away. 'We'll rent a car,' said Catherine as she accepted her ticket from the man in the booth. 'I know several head-boys at the hotel. '

''We park? You park?' The grinning attendant obviously hoped for the former.

'You park,' replied Staples, withdrawing several Hong Kong dollars from her purse. 'Let's go,' she said, turning to Marie. 'And stay on my right, in the shadows, close to the buildings. How are your feet?'

'I'd rather not say. '

'Then don't. There's no time to do anything about them now. Bear up, old girl. '

'Catherine, stop sounding like C. Aubrey Smith in drag. '

'Who's that?'

'Forget it. I like old movies. Let's go. '

Marie hobbling, the two women walked down the street to a side entrance of the Mandarin. They climbed the hotel steps and went inside. 'There's a ladies room to the right, past the line of shops,' said Catherine.

'I see the sign. '

'Wait there. I'll be with you as soon as I can make arrangements. '

'Is there a drug store here?'

'I don't want you walking around. There'll be descriptions out everywhere. '

'I understand that, but can you walk around? Just a bit. '

'Bad time of the month?'

Wo, my feet! Vaseline, skin lotion, sandals – no, not sandals. Rubber thongs, perhaps, and peroxide. '

'I'll do what I can, but time is everything. '

'It's been that way for the past year. A terrible treadmill. Will it stop, Catherine?'

'I'm doing my damnedest to see to it. You're a friend and a countryman, my dear. And I'm a very angry woman – and speaking of such – how many women did you encounter in the hallowed halls of the CIA or its bumbling counterpart at the State Department, Consular Operations?'

Marie blinked, trying to remember. 'None, actually. '

There was a woman in Paris-'

'There's always is, dear. Go to the ladies' room. '

'An automobile is a hindrance in Hong Kong,' said Wenzu, looking at the clock on the wall of his office in the headquarters of MI6, Special Branch. It read 6:34. Therefore we must assume she intends driving Webb's wife some distance, hiding her, and will not risk taxi records. Our eight o'clock deadline has been rescinded, the chase now takes its place. We must intercept her. Is there anything we haven't considered?'

'Putting the Australian in jail,' suggested the short, well-dressed subordinate firmly. 'We suffered casualties in the Walled City, but his were a public embarrassment. We know where he's staying. We can pick him up. '

'On what charge?'

'Obstruction. '

'To what end?'

The subordinate shrugged – angrily. 'Satisfaction, that's all. '

'You've just answered your own question. Your pride is inconsequential. Stick to the woman – the women. '

'You're right, of course. '

'Every garage, the car hire agencies here on the island and in Kowloon, they've all been contacted by the police, correct?'

'Yes, sir. But I must point out that the Staples woman could easily call upon one of her friends – her Canadian friends – and she would have a car we could not track. '

'We operate on what we can control, not what we can't. Besides, from what I knew before and what I have subsequently learned about Foreign Service Officer Staples, I would say she's acting alone, certainly not with official sanction. She won't involve anyone else for the time being. '

'How can you be sure?'

Wenzu looked at his subordinate; he had to choose his words carefully. 'Just a guess. '

'Your guesses have a reputation for accuracy. '

'An inflated judgement. Common sense is my ally. ' The telephone rang. The major's hand shot out . 'Yes?'