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ad fortunes stolen from us by the Viet Minh； the only path to restitution was if the Americans won the war。 France had abandoned us at Dien Bien Phu。 But there were dozens who saw that fortunes could be made from Medusa。 Pouches often contained fifty to seventy…five thousand American dollars。 A courier siphoning off half during ten； fifteen runs could retire in Singapore or Kuala Lumpur； or set up his own narcotics network in the Triangle。 Apart from the exorbitant pay … and frequently the pardoning of past crimes … the opportunities were unlimited。 It was in this group that I placed that very strange man。 He was a modern…day pirate in the purest sense。
Bergeron unlocked his hands。 'Wait a minute。 You used the phrase； 〃a mission he manded〃。 There were military men in Medusa； are you sure he wasn't art American officer？〃
'American； to be sure； but certainly not an army man。'
'Why？'
'He hated everything military。 His scorn for mand Saigon was in every decision he made； he considered the army fools and inpetents。 At one point orders were radioed to us in Tam Quan。 He broke off the transmission and told a regimental general to have sex with himself … he would not obey。 An army officer would hardly do that。'
〃Unless he was about to abandon his profession；' said the designer。 'As Paris abandoned you and you did the best you could； stealing from Medusa； setting up your own hardly patriotic activities … wherever you could。'
'My country betrayed me before I betrayed her； Rene〃。
'Back to Cain。 You say Bourne was not the name he used。 What was it？'
'I don't recall。 As I said； for many； surnames were not relevant。 He was simply 〃Delta〃 to me。'
'Mekong？'
'No； the alphabet； I think。'
'〃Alpha； Bravo； Charlie。。。 Delta〃；' said Bergeron pensively in English。 'But in many operations the code word 〃Charlie〃 was replaced by。。。 〃Cain〃； because 〃Charlie〃 had bee synonymous with the Cong。 〃Charlie〃 became 〃Cain〃！〃
'Quite true。 So Bourne dropped back a letter and assumed Cain。 He could have chosen 〃Echo〃 or 〃Foxtrot〃 or 〃Zulu〃。 Twenty…odd others。 What's the difference？ What's your point？〃
'He chose Cain deliberately！ It was symbolic！ He wanted it clear from the beginning。〃
'Wanted what clear？'
That Cain would replace Carlos。 Think。 〃Carlos〃 is Spanish for Charles … Charlie。 The code word 〃Cain〃 was substituted for 〃Charlie〃 … Carlos。 It was his intention from the start。 Cain would replace Carlos； And he wanted Carlos to know it。'
'Does Carlos？'
'Of course！ Word goes out in Amsterdam and Berlin； Geneva and Lisbon； London and right here in Paris。 Cain is
available； contracts can be made； his price lower than Carlos's fee。 He erodes！ He constantly erodes Carlos's stature。'
'Two matadors in the same ring。 There can only be one。'
'It will be Carlos。 We've trapped the puffed…up sparrow。 He's somewhere within two hours of Saint…Honoree。'
'But where？'
'No matter。 We'll find him。 After all； he found us。 He'll e back； his ego will demand it。 And then the eagle will sweep down and catch the sparrow。 Carlos will kill him。'
The old man adjusted his single crutch under his left arm； parted the black curtain； and stepped into the confessional。 He was not well； the pallor of death was on his face； and he was glad the figure in the priest's habit beyond the transparent curtain could not see him clearly。 The assassin might not give him further work if he looked too worn to carry it out； he needed work now。 There were only weeks remaining and he had responsibilities。 He spoke。
'Angelus Domini。〃
'Angelus Domini； child of God；' came the whisper。 'Are your days fortable？'
'They draw to an end； but they are made fortable。〃
'Yes。。。 I think this will be your last job for me。 It is of such importance； however； that your fee will be five times the usual。 I hope it will be of help to you。'
'Thank you； Carlos。 You know； then。'
'I know。 This is what you must do for it； and the information must leave this world with you； There can be no room for error。〃
'I have always been accurate。 I will go to my death being accurate now。'
'Die in peace； old friend。 It's easier。。。 You will go to the Vietnamese Embassy and ask for an attaché named Phan Loc。 When you are alone； say the following words to him： 〃Late March； 1968 Medusa； the Tam Quan sector。 Cain was there。 Another also。〃 Have you got that？〃
'〃Late March； 1968 Medusa； the Tam Quan sector。 Cain was there。 Another also。〃'
'He'll tell you when to return。 It will be in a matter of hours。〃
'I think it's time we talked about une fiche plus confidentielle out of Zurich。〃
'My God。。。！'
'I'm not the man you're looking for。〃
Bourne gripped the woman's hand； holding her in place； preventing her from running into the aisles of the crowded； elegant restaurant in Argenteuil； twenty miles outside Paris。 The pavane was over； the gavotte finished。 They were alone； the velvet booth a cage。
'Who are you？〃 The Lavier woman grimaced； trying to pull her hand away； the veins in the cosmeticized neck pronounced。
'A rich American who lives in the Bahamas。 Don't you believe that？〃
'I should have known；〃 she said； 'no charges； no cheque。。。 only cash。 You didn't even look at the bill。'
'Or the prices before that。 It's what brought you over to me。〃
'I was a fool。 The rich always look at prices； if only for the pleasure of dismissing them。〃 Lavier spoke while glancing round； looking for a space in the aisles； a waiter she might summon。 Escape。
'Don't；' said Jason； watching her eyes。 'It'd be foolish。 We'd both be better off if we talked。'
The woman stared at him； the bridge of hostile silence accentuated by the hum of the large； dimly…lit； candelabra'd room and the intermittent eruptions of quiet laughter from the nearby tables。 'I ask you again；' she said。 'Who are you？'
'My name isn't important。 Settle for the one I gave you。'
'Briggs？ It's false。'
'So's Larousse and that's on the lease of a hired car that picked up three killers at the Valois bank。 They missed there。 They also missed this afternoon at the Pont Neuf。 He got away。'
'Oh； Corf！' she cried； trying to break away。
'I said don't'。' Bourne held her firmly； pulling her back。
'If I scream。 Monsieur？' The powdered mask was cracked with lines of venom now； the bright red lipstick defining the snarl of an ageing； cornered rodent。
'I'll scream louder；' replied Jason。 'We'd both be thrown out； and once outside I don't think you'll be unmanageable。 Why not talk？ We might learn something from each other。 After all； we're employees； not employers。'
'I have nothing to say to you。'
'Then I'll start。 Maybe you'll change your mind。' He lessened his grip cautiously。 The tension remained on her white； powdered face； but it； too； was lessened as the pressure of his fingers was reduced。 She was ready to listen。 'You paid a price in Zurich。 We paid； too。 Obviously more than you did。 We're after the same man； we know why we want him。' He released her。 'Why do you？'
She did not speak for nearly half a minute； instead； studying him in silence； her eyes angry yet frightened。 Bourne knew he had phrased the question accurately； for Jacqueline Lavier not to talk to him woul