Robert Ludlum - The Parcifal Mosaic.txt

by The Parcifal Mosaic [lit]

  hand. "Thanks again. You know the help yoifve been. I woet belabor it."

  "You can forget about the envelope, if you like," said Gravet, shaking

  hands, studying Michaels face in the shadows. 'You may need the money, and

  my expenses were minimal. I can always collect on your next trip to Paris."

  "Doet change the rules, we've lived too long by them. But I appreciate the

  vote of confidence."

  "You were always civilized, and I don~t understand any of this business.

  Why her? Why you?"

  "I wish to God I knew."

  'Ilat's the key, isn't it? Something you do know."

  "If it is, I haveet the vaguest idea what it could be. Good-bye, Gravet."

  "Non, au revoir. I really don't want the envelope, Mikhail. Come back to

  Paris. You owe me." The distinguished critic turned and disappeared up the

  alley.

  There was no point in being evasive with 116gine Broussac; she would sense

  the evasion instantly, the coincidence of timing being too unbelievable. On

  the other hand, to give her the advantage of naming the rendezvous was

  equally foolish; she would stake out the area with personnel the Quai

  d'Orsay bad no idea were on its payroll. Broussac was tough, knowing when

  and when not to involve her government, and depending upon what jenna bad

  told her, she might consider any dealings with an unbalanced retired

  American field officer more suited to treatment by unofficial methods. There

  were no checks and balances in those methods; they were dangerous because

  there was no fine of responsibility, only diverted monies that no one cared

  to acknowledge. Drones by any other names or payments were first cousins to

  the practitioners of violence-wb6tber employed by Rome in Col des Moulinets

  or by a VKR officer in a cheap hotel on the Rue Etienne. All were

  essentially lethal, it was merely a question of degree, and all should be

  avoided unless one was the employer. Havelock understood; be bad to get

  Broussac alone, and to do that, be had to convince her that he was not

  Trm PARSrFAL MOSAIC255

  dangerous-to, ber-and might have information that could be extraordinarily

  valuable.

  An odd thought struck him as be descended the endless steps of Montmartre.

  He was talking to himself about the truth. He would tell her part of it,

  but not all of it. Liars twisted the truth and she might listen to their

  version of the truth, not his.

  She was in the Paris telephone book. Rue Losserand.

  ". . . I've never given you wrong information and Im not going to start

  tonight. But it's out of sanction. Way out. So that you can judge just how

  far, use someone else's name at the Qua! &Orsay and call the embassy. Ask

  about my status, directing the miquiry to the senior attacb6 of Consular

  Operatfons. Say I called you from somewhere in the South and wanted to set

  up a meeting. As an official of a friendly government, request

  instructions. III call you back in ten minutes, not on this phone, of

  course."

  "Of course. Ten minutes." R6gine?-

  'Yes?'

  "Remember Bom"

  "Ten minutes."

  Havelock walked south to Berlioz Square, checking his watch frequently,

  knowing he would add an additional five to seven minutes beyond the stated

  ten. Stretching a callback under tension often exposed more than the

  recipient intended to reveal. There was a cabine on the corner, a young

  woman Inside screaming into the phone, gesturing frantically. In a fit of

  temper she slammed down the receiver and stalked out of the booth.

  "Vachel" exclaimed the angry girl as she passed Havelock, furiously

  adjusting the shoulder strap of her large purse.

  He opened the door and walked in; the extended stretch time bad reached

  nine minutes. He made the call and listened.

  "Yes?" Broussaes voice broke off the first ring. She was anxious; she had

  reached the embassy.

  "Did you speak to the attacbO"

  ~You!re late. You said ten minutm"

  "Did you speak to him?'

  "Yes. 11 meet with you. Come to my flat as soon as you can..

  "Sorry. nicall you back in a little while."

  256 RoBERT LuDLum

  "Havelockl"

  He bung up and walked out of the booth, his eyes scanning the street for a

  vacant taxi.

  Twenty-five minutes later he was in another booth, the numbers

  indistinguishable in the shadows. He struck a match and dialed.

  Yesr

  'Take the M6tro to the Bercy station, and walk up into the street. Several

  blocks down on the right is a row of warehouses. III be in the area. Come

  alone, becauseril know if you don't. And if you don't, I won't show."

  'This is ridiculow! A lone woman at night in Bercyl"

  "If theries anyone around at this hour, III warn him about

  YOU.

  "Preposterousl What are you thinking of?"

  A year ago in another street," said Michael. "Of Bonn." He lowered the

  phone into the cradle.

  The area was deserted, the row of warehouses dark, the streetligbts dim,

  the wattage low by municipal decree. It was a favorable hour and location

  for a drop that entailed more than a pickup or an exchange of merchandise.

  A conversation could be held without the din of crowded streets or the jos-

  tling of impatient pedestrians, and unlike a caf6 or a city park, there

  were few places where an unknown observer could conceal himself. The few

  residents who emerged from the lighted cavern of the M6tro up the street

  could be watched-hesitation or sudden disappearance could be noted; a stray

  automobile could be seen blocks away. The complete advantage was found, of

  course, in being there at the rendezvous before it was established. He was;

  he left the booth and started across the Boulevard de Bercy.

  Two trucks were parked, one behind the other, at the curb in front of a

  loading platform. Their open-planked carriages were empty, stationary

  symbols of an early-morning call for the drivers. He would wait between the

  two vehicles, the sight lines in either direction clear. R6gine Broussac

  would come; the agitated huntress, prodded and provoked, would be unable to

  resist the unexplained.

  Eleven separate times be heard the muted rumble of the underground trains

  and felt the vibrations in the concrete and earth beneath him. Starting

  with the sixth, he concentrated on the M6tro's entrance; she could not have

  arrived

  THE PAmxFAL Mosmc 257

  before it did. However, radio dispatch was commonplace and rapid; only

  minutes after the second call he had begun to study the street, the

  infrequent automobiles, the less frequent bicycles. He saw nothing that

  alarmed him, and the most insignificant intrusion would have done so.

  The twelfth rumble stopped, the faint vibrations still echoing underfoot,

  and by the time the below-ground thunder commenced again he could see her

  climbing up the steps; her short, broad figure emerging from the brighter

  light into the dimly fit street. A couple preceded her; Michael watched

  them carefully. They were elderly, older than Broussac, their pace slow and

  deliberate; they -would be of no value to her. They turned left, around the

&
nbsp; squared iron latticework of the entrance, and away from the trucks and the

  warehouses; they were no part of a night unit. R6gine continued forward

  with the hesitant stride of an apprehensive older woman aware of her

  vulnerability, her bead turning slowly, reluctantly at each odd noise, real

  and imagined. She passed under a streetlight and Havelock remembered; her

  skin was as gray as her short-cropped hair, testimony to years of

  unacknowledged torments, yet her face was softened by wide blue eyes as of-

  ten expressive as they were clouded. As she passed through the light into

  the shadows, Gravet's words came back to Havelock: "Violence, pain, loss."

  116gine Broussac bad lived through it all and survived-quiet, wary,

  silently tough, and in no way beaten. She reveled in the secret, unseen

  powers her government had given her; it helped her get even. Michael

  understood; after all, she was one of them. A survivor.

  She came alongside him on the pavement. He called out softly from between

  the trucks, Wgine."

  She stopped, standing motionless, her eyes straight ahead, not looking at

  him. She said, -Is it necessary to hold a weapon on me?"

  "I have no gun aimed at you. I have a gun, but it's not in my hand."

  "Biele Broussac spun around, her purse raised. An explosion blew a hole

  through the fabric, and the concrete and stone shattered beneath Havelock's

  feet, fragments of rock and cement piercing his trousers, scraping his

  flesh. "For what you did to Jenna Karasl" shouted the woman, her face

  258 ROBERT LUDLUM

  contorted. "Do not movel One step, one gesture, and I will put a bole in

  your tbroatf"

  "What are you doing?"

  "What have you done? Whom do you work for now?"

  "Myself, goddamn you! Myself and Jenna!" Havelock raised his hand, an

  instinctive move but no less a plea. It was not accepted.

  A second explosion came from the shattered purse, the bullet grazing his

  outer palm, ricocheting off the truck's metal, whining out into the night.

  "Arrgtez! I'd as soon deliver a corpse as a breathing body. Perhaps more so

  in your case, cochon."

  'Deliver to whom?"

  "You said you would call me 'in a little while'-were they not your words?

  Well, in a little ~vbile several colleagues of mine will be here, a time

  span I was willing to risk. in less than thirty minutes you would have felt

  secure; you would have shown yourself. When they arrive we'll drive to a

  house out in the countryside where we sball have a session with you. Then

  well give you to the Gabriel. They want you very badly. They called you

  dangerous, that's all I had to know

  . with what I already knew."

  "Not to youl I'm dangerous to them, not youl"

  "What do you t ' ake me for? Take us for?"

  "You saw jenna. You helped her-"

  'I saw her. I listened to her. I heard the truth."

  "As she believes it, not as it isl Hear mel Listen to mel"

  'You'll talk under the proper conditions. You know what they are as well as

  I do."

  "I don't need chemicals, you bitchl You won't bear anything differentf"

  "We'll follow procedures,- said Broussac, removing her hand and the gun

  from the ruptured purse. "Move out of there," she continued, gesturing with

  the weapon. "Youre standing in the shadows. I don't like it."

  Of course she didn't like it, thought Havelock, watching the old woman

  blink her eyes. As with many aging people, it was clear that night was no

  friend to her vision. It accounted for her constantly moving head as she

  walked away from the lighted entrance of the M6tro; she bad been as

  concerned with the unexpected shadows as with sounds. He had to keep her

  talking, divert some part of her concentration.

  TIM PARSIFAL MOSAIC259

  "You think the American embassy will tolerate what you're doing?" said

  Michael, stepping out of the patterned shadow created by the slats of the

  open truck and the spiR of the streetlamps.

  "There'll be no international incident; we bad no alternative but to sedate

  you. In their words, you're dangerous."

  "They won't accept that and you know it."

  "They'll. have little choice. The Gabriel has been alerted that a situation

  of extreme abnormality exists in which a former American intelligence

  officer-a specialist in clandestine activities-may be attempting to

  compromise an official of the Quai d'Orsay. The anticipated confrontation

  will take place twenty miles from Paris, near Argenteuil, and the Americans

  are requested to have a vehicle with armed personnel in the vicinity. A

  radio frequency has been established. We will turn over an American problem

  to the Americans once we learn the nature of the extortion. We protect the

  interests of our government. Perfectly acceptable, even generous."

  "Christ, you're thorough."

  "Very. I've known men like you. And women; we used to sbave their beads. I

  despise you."

  "Because of what she told you?'

  "Like you, I know when I've beard the truth. She did not Ife."

  "I agree. Because she believes it all-just as I did. And I was wrong-God,

  was I wrong-just as she's wrong now. We were used, both of us used."

  "By your own people? For what purpose?"

  "I don~t knowl"

  She was listening, her concentration beginning to split. She could not help

  herself, the unexplored was too compelling.

  "Why do you think I reached you?" be asked. "For Christ's sake, if I bad

  the leverage to find you, I could have bypassed youl I don't need you,

  116gine. I could have learned what I wanted to learn without you. I called

  you because I trusted youl"

  Broussac blinked, the gray flesh around her eyes wrinkling in thought.

  "You'll. have your chance to talk-under the proper conditions."

  "Don't do thisl" cried Michael, taking a short step forward. She did not

  fire; she did not move her gun. "You~ve set it in

  260 ROBERT LuDLum

  motion; you'll have to turn me overl They know its me and you'll be forced

  to. Your friends'll insist. They're not going to go down with you, no matter

  what you bear from me-under proper conditionsl"

  "Why should we go down?"

  "Because the embassy is being lied to. By people way the hen UPI"

  The old woman's eyes now blinked rapidly as she flinched. She had not fired

  when he moved only seconds ago.

  Nowl

  Havelock lunged forward, his right arm extended, rigid, as straight as an

  iron bar, his left band under his wrist. He made contact with the gun,

  sweeping it aside as a third explosion broke the silence of the deserted

  street. With his left hand he grabbed the barrel and ripped it out of her

  grip, then slammed her against the wall of the warehouse.

  'Cochonf Traftrer screamed Broussac, her face twisted. 'KiU mel Youll learn

  nothing from mel"

  He held his forearm across her throat-in agony from the

  wound in his shoulder-as he pressed her head back into the

  brick, the weapon in his hand. 'Vbat I want can~t be forced

  from you, R6gine," he s ' aid, while gasping for breath. "Don~t

  you understand? It has to be given."

  "Nothingl Which terrori
stes bought you? Meinbof cowards? Arab pigs? Israeli

  fanatics? Brigate Rosse? Who wants what you can sell? ... She knew. She

  found outl And you must kill herl Kill me flrst, betrayerl"

  Slowly Havelock released the pressure of his arm and, slower still, he

  moved his body away from hers. He knew the risk; he did not take it

  lightly. On the other band, he knew R6gine Broussac. After all, she was one

  of them; she bad survived. He removed his arm and stood in front of her,

  his eyes steady, looking into hers.

  "I've betrayed no one except myself," be began. "And through myself a

  person I love very much. I meant what I said. I can~t force you to tell me

  what I have to know. Among other things, you could lie to me too easily,

  too successfully, and I'd be back where I was ten days ago. I won~t do

  that. if I can't find her, if I can't have her back, perhaps it doesn't

  matter. I know what I did and ies killing me. I love her ... I need her. I

  think we both need each other more than anything else in the world just

  now. We're all

  THE PARSTFAL MOSAIC261

  each other has left. But rve learned something about futility over the

  years." He raised the gun in his left hand, taking the barrel with his

  right. He held it out to her. "You've fired three times; there are four

  shells left."

  Broussac stood still, staring at him, studying his face, his eyes. She took

  the weapon and leveled it at his head, her own eyes questioning, roaniing

  his. Finally her grimacing features softened, astonishment replacing

  hostility. Slowly she lowered the gun.

  "C'est incroyable," she whispered. "This is the truth, then."

  "The truth.'

  B.6gine looked at her watch. "Vitel We must leave. Theyll be here in

  minutes; theyll search everywhere."

  "Where to? There are no taxis-"

  "The M6tro. We'll take it to the Rochereau. There!s a small park where we

  can talk."

  "What about your teamP What1l you tell them?"

  "That I was testing their alertness," she said, taking his arm as they

  started up the pavement toward the lighted entrance of the underground

  train. "rbat I wanted to see bow they would react in a given situation.

  It!s consistent: ies late, theyre off duty, and Irm a bitch."

  "Yoeve still got the embassy."