Robert Ludlum's (TM) The Bourne Ascendancy by Eric Van Lustbader Read Free Book Online Page B

looked in Bourne’s direction.
    “We have company,” Bourne said, and Zizzy nodded, not even bothering to query the acute left turn in the conversation. “At your four o’clock, corner table.”
    “Alone?” Zizzy asked, without turning to take a look.
    “In here, at least,” Bourne said.
    “El Ghadan making good on his threats.” Zizzy said. “This is positive news; it means he’s predictable, which is more than you can say for most terrorists. If he’s predictable we can stay one step ahead of him.”
    Bourne shook his head. “With the mobile he gave me he has no need to put eyes on me.”
    Zizzy frowned. “Then who’s our friend over there working for?”
    “We’ll find out before we leave,” Bourne said, “but right now I want to know why you want to put yourself in danger in Damascus.”
    “You came to me, Jason, remember?”
    “I’m asking for help, not for you.”
    “Nevertheless…” Zizzy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m missing the old days. Listen, it’s my plane, Jason.”
    “Okay, we’ll go to Damascus together,” Bourne said softly but firmly. “You’ll help me get into the ministry. Then you’re done.”
    “Jason. I’ll miss out on all the fun.”
    “I’m not going to endanger your life.”
    “Am I mistaken in believing that decision is mine to make?”
    Bourne said nothing.
    “Well, as for my own situation, if you’ve been made, then I’ve already been linked to you. Better for both of us if we get out of Doha as quickly as possible.”
    “I’m sorry about that.”
    Zizzy snorted. “What are friends for, except to take a bullet for you?” Then, seeing Bourne’s expression, he laughed. “Come on. I have it on the highest authority I’m going to live to a ripe old age, dandling great-grandchildren on my arthritic knees.”

6
    C amilla, her well-packed weekender in hand, presented herself at the Dairy, where she was photographed and fingerprinted by security personnel. The Dairy was only a mile or so away from the Farm, but its purpose was very different. Whereas the Farm trained new recruits, refreshed the skills of field agents, and periodically updated them on the newest surveillance hardware and weaponry, the Dairy prepared elite agents for specialized assignments.
    Both the Farm and the Dairy were in rural Virginia, a short helicopter ride from Langley. In the Dairy’s case, it was set at an actual dairy, complete with a herd of milk-producing cows and a highly trained staff dedicated to the bovines. Needless to say, the director of the Company handpicked every member of the Dairy’s staff, whether in the service of the facility’s human guests or animal residents.
    The Dairy’s setting, amid bucolic rolling hills, lush stands of hardwood trees, despoiled by few roads and even fewer vehicles, was idyllic, but only the cows had the leisure to appreciate it fully. The Company’s guests were kept far too busy to catch more than a glimpse now and again.
    The Black Queen brief had instructed Camilla to report to someone named Hunter Worth. This resident turned out to be a woman with the face of an angel and the demeanor of a marine drill instructor. In fact, as Camilla quickly discovered, Hunter had been a marine herself, piloting jets just as Camilla’s mother had once done, until a shoulder injury had forced her to find another path.
    “How did you injure your shoulder?” Camilla asked, that first day.
    “I fell out of a tree.”
    “What? You’re kidding.”
    “I wish.”
    “What happened?”
    “I was stupid enough to accept a dare. It had rained overnight, the bark was slippery. Boom, end of story.”
    “Sorry.”
    “Don’t be. I love the Dairy.”
    “Isn’t this kind of a”—she gestured with her arm—“closed-off life?”
    “Not with Hulu Plus, Netflix, and iTunes.”
    “You mean—?”
    “Yeah, Breaking Bad , NCIS , The Big Bang Theory .”
    “Fan, fan, fan,” Camilla said, laughing. “And music?”
    “Lots and lots of