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oomed with at the university。 A fine young man from a rational family but not trained for what he was put through。〃
〃You're saying you think he may have told Carlos about us； aren't you？〃
〃Yes。 。。。 There's more； however。 Approximately an hour ago in the Vavilova； eight people were cut down by automatic fire。 They were slaughtered； it was a massacre。 One of the dying； a woman with the Ministry of Information； a direktor； second class； and a television journalist； said the killer was a priest from Paris who called himself the 'monseigneur。' 〃
〃Jesus！〃 exploded Conklin； whipping his legs over the edge of the bed； absently staring at the stump of flesh where once there had been a foot。 〃It was his cadre。〃
〃So called and past tense；〃 said Krupkin。 〃If you remember； I told you such recruits would abandon him at the first sign of peril。〃
〃I'll get Jason…〃
〃Aleksei； listen to me！〃
〃What？〃 Conklin cupped the telephone under his chin as he reached down for the hollowed…out prosthetic boot。
〃We've formed a tactical assault squad； men and women in civilian clothes…they're being given instructions now and will be there shortly。〃
〃Good move。〃
〃But we have purposely not alerted the hotel staff or the police。〃
〃You'd be idiots if you did；〃 broke in Alex。 〃We'll settle for taking the son of a bitch here！ We'd never do it with uniforms prowling around or clerks in hysterics。 The Jackal has eyes in his kneecaps。〃
〃Do as I say；〃 ordered the Soviet。 〃Admit no one； stay away from the windows and take all precautions。〃
〃Naturally。 。。。 What do you mean； the windows？ He'll need time to find out where we are 。。。 to question the maids； the stewards。〃
〃Forgive me； old friend；〃 interrupted Krupkin； 〃but an angelic priest inquiring at the desk about two Americans； one with a pronounced limp； during the early morning rush in the lobby？〃
〃Good point； even if you're paranoid。〃
〃You're on a high floor； and directly across the Marx Prospekt is the roof of an office building。〃
〃You also think pretty fast。〃
〃Certainly faster than that fool in Dzerzhinsky。 I would have reached you long before now； but my missar Kartoshki over there didn't call me until two minutes ago。〃
〃I'll wake up Bourne。〃
〃Be careful。〃
Conklin did not hear the Soviet's final admonition。 Instead； he swiftly replaced the telephone and pulled on his boot； carelessly lashing the Velcro straps around his calf。 He then opened the bedside table drawer and took out the Graz Burya automatic； a specially designed KGB weapon with three clips of ammunition。 The Graz； as it was monly known； was unique insofar as it was the only automatic known that would accept a silencer。 The cylindrical instrument had rolled to the front of the drawer； he removed it and spun it into the short barrel。 Unsteadily； he got into his trousers； shoved the weapon into his belt and crossed to the door。 He opened it and limped out only to find Jason； fully dressed； standing in front of a window in the ornate Victorian sitting room。
〃That had to be Krupkin；〃 said Bourne。
〃It was。 Get away from the window。〃
〃Carlos？〃 Bourne instantly stepped back and turned to Alex。 〃He knows we're in Moscow？〃 he asked。 Then added； 〃He knows where we are？〃
〃The odds are yes to both questions。〃 In short concise statements； Conklin related Krupkin's information。 〃Does all this tell you something？〃 asked Alex when he had finished。
〃He's blown apart；〃 answered Jason quietly。 〃It had to happen。 The time bomb in his head finally went off。〃
〃That's what I think。 His Moscow cadre turned out to be a myth。 They probably told him to pound sand and he exploded。〃
〃I regret the loss of life and I mean that；〃 said Bourne。 〃I wish it could have happened another way； but I can't regret his state of mind。 What's happened to him is what he wanted for me…to crack wide open。〃
〃Kruppie said it；〃 added Conklin。 〃He's got a psychopathic death wish to return to the people who first found out he was a maniac。 Now； if he knows you're here； and we have to assume that he does； the obsession's pounded； your death replacing his…giving him some kind of symbolic triumph maybe。〃
〃You've been talking to Panov too much。 。。。 I wonder how Mo is。〃
〃Don't。 I called the hospital at three o'clock this morning…five o'clock； Paris time。 He may lose the use of his left arm and suffer partial paralysis of his right leg； but they think he'll make it now。〃
〃I don't give a goddamn about his arms or his legs。 What about his head？〃
〃Apparently it's intact。 The chief nurse on the floor said that for a doctor he's a terrible patient。〃
〃Thank Christ！〃
〃I thought you were an agnostic。〃
〃It's a symbolic phrase； check with Mo。〃 Bourne noticed the gun in Alex's belt； he gestured at the weapon。 〃That's a little obvious； isn't it？〃
〃For whom？〃
〃Room service；〃 replied Jason。 〃I phoned for whatever gruel they've got and a large pot of coffee。〃
〃No way。 Krupkin said we don't let anyone in here and I gave him my word。〃
〃That's a crock of paranoia…〃
〃Almost my words； but this is his turf； not ours。 Just like the windows。〃
〃Wait a minute！〃 exclaimed Bourne。 〃Suppose he is right？〃
〃Unlikely； but possible； except that…〃 Conklin could not finish his statement。 Jason reached under the right rear flap of his jacket； yanked out his own Graz Burya and started for the hallway door of the suite。 〃What are you doing？〃 cried Alex。
〃Probably giving your friend 'Kruppie' more credit than he deserves； but it's worth a try。 。。。 Get over there；〃 ordered Bourne； pointing to the far left corner of the room。 〃I'll leave the door unlocked； and when the steward gets here； tell him to e in…in Russian。〃
〃What about you？〃
〃There's an ice machine down the hall； it doesn't work； but it's in a cubicle along with a Pepsi machine。 That doesn't work either； but I'll slip inside。〃
〃Thank God for capitalists； no matter how misguided。 Go on！〃
The Medusan once known as Delta unlatched the door； opened it； glanced up and down the Metropole's corridor and rushed outside。 He raced down the hallway to the cut…out alcove that housed the two convenience machines and crouched by the right interior wall。 He waited； his knees and legs aching…pains he never felt only years ago…and then he heard the sounds of rolling wheels。 They grew louder and louder as the cart draped with a tablecloth passed and proceeded to the door of the suite。 He studied the floor steward； he was a young man in his twenties； blond； short of stature； and with the posture of an obsequious servant； cautiously he knocked on the door。 No Carlos he； thought Bourne； getting painfully to his feet。 He could hear Conklin's muffled voice telling the steward to enter； and as the young man opened the door； shoving the table inside； Jason calmly inserted his weapon into its concealed place。 He bent over and massaged his right calf； he could feel the swelling cluster of a muscle cramp。
It happened with the impact of a single furious wave against a shoal of rock。 A figure in black lurched out of an unseen recess in the corridor； racing past the machines。 Bourne spun back into the wall。 It was the Jackal！
38
Madness！ At full force Carlos slammed his