Bourne 4 - The Bourne Legacy by Robert Ludlum, Eric Van Lustbader Read Free Book Online

leaving his scent on dry land, but in the moving water even the dogs would lose his trail.
    Snaking through the thorny snarl of underbrush, he crested a small ridge, stood between two cedars, listening intently. It was vital to catalog all the normal sounds of this specific environment so that he would instantly be alerted to the sound of an intruder. He was keenly aware that an enemy was in all likelihood somewhere close by. The murderer of his friends, of the moorings of his old life. The desire to stalk that enemy was weighed against the necessity of escaping from the police. As much as he wanted to track down the killer, Bourne knew it was crucial for him to be outside the radius of the police cordon before it was fully set up.

    The moment Khan had entered the dense pine and hardwood forest on Alexander Conklin's estate he felt as if he had come home. The deep green vault closed over his head, plunging him into a premature twilight. Overhead, he could see sunlight filtering through the topmost branches, but here all was murk and gloom, the better for him to stalk his prey. He had followed Webb from the university campus to Conklin's house. During the course of his career, he had heard of Alexander Conklin, knew him for the legendary spymaster he had been. What puzzled him was why David Webb should come here? Why would he even know Conklin? And how was it that so many police had shown up at the estate mere minutes after Webb himself?
    In the distance, he could hear baying, and he knew the police must have let loose their tracking dogs. Up ahead, he saw Webb moving through the forest as if he knew it well. Another question without an obvious answer. Khan picked up his pace, wondering where Webb was headed. Then he heard the sound of a stream and he knew precisely what his quarry had on his mind.
    Khan hurried on, reaching the stream before Webb. He knew his prey would head downstream, away from the direction in which the hounds were headed. That was when he saw the huge willow and a grin captured his face. A sturdy tree with a network of spreading branches was just what he needed.

    The ruddy sunlight of early evening threaded itself like needles of fire through the trees, and Bourne's eye was caught by the splotches of crimson that fired the edge of the leaves. On the far side of the ridge, the land fell away rather steeply, and the way became more rocky. He could pick out the soft burbling sound of the nearby stream, and he headed for it as quickly as he could. The winter's snowpack had combined with the early spring rains to leave the stream swollen. Without hesitation, he stepped into the chill water, wading downstream. The longer he stayed in the water the better, as the dogs would lose all scent of him and become confused, and the farther away he emerged, the harder it would be for them to pick up his scent again.
    Safe for the moment, he began thinking of his wife, Marie. He needed to contact her. Going home was out of the question now; doing so would put them in immediate jeopardy. But he had to contact Marie, warn her. The Agency was sure to come looking for him at home, and not finding him there, they were certain to detain Marie, interrogate her, assuming she would know his whereabouts. And there was the even more chilling possibility that whoever had set him up would now try to get to him through his family. In a sudden sweat of anxiety, he pulled out Conklin's cell phone, dialed Marie's cell phone, input a text message. It was one word only: Diamond. This was the code word he and Marie had previously agreed upon, to be used only in dire emergencies. It was a directive for her to take the kids and leave immediately for their safe house. They were to stay there, incommunicado, secure, until Bourne gave Marie the "all clear" signal. Alex's phone rang and Bourne saw Marie's text: Repeat please. This was not the prescribed response. Then he realized why she was confused. He had contacted her on Alex's cell phone,