Robert Ludlum's the Bourne Deception by Eric van Lustbader

Author:Eric van Lustbader [Lustbader, Eric van]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: FIC000000
ISBN: 9780446551489
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2009-06-09T04:00:00+00:00

Seconds after Bourne took the phone, Hererra’s young man had stolen into the room. Now he pressed the muzzle of a Beretta Px4 9mm pistol to Tracy’s left temple. She was wide-eyed, sitting painfully erect at the edge of the sofa.

“My dear fellow,” Don Fernando Hererra said as he took the cell from Bourne, “I may not know who you are, but I know this much: My threatening you will avail me nothing.” His smile was sweet, almost soft. “Whereas if I tell you that I will have Fausto blow her brains out—pardon the crudeness of my words, Señorita Atherton—unless you tell me who you are, I feel certain that you will be more inclined to tell me the truth.”

“I admit that I’ve underestimated you, Don Hererra,” Bourne said.

“Adam, please tell him the truth.” Tracy was clearly terrified for her life.

“I know that you’re a confidence man, just as I know you’ve come to swindle me out of my Goya, which, by the way, Professor Alonzo Pecunia Zuñiga—the real Don Alonzo—has confirmed to me is authentic.” He pointed. “He has also confirmed that Señorita Atherton is genuine. How you seduced her into going along with your scheme is between the two of you.” But his expression conveyed his dismay and disappointment at Tracy’s fall from grace. “My concern is who you are and which of my enemies hired you to con me.”

Tracy shivered. “Adam, for God’s sake—”

Hererra cocked his head. “Come, come, Señor Con Man, you have forfeited your right to scare the young lady.”

It was time for him to act, Bourne knew that. He also knew that the situation was on a razor’s edge. Hererra was the wild card. On the surface it seemed unlikely that such a polished gentleman of Seville would actually direct the young man to pull the trigger. However, Hererra’s black-hands work in the oil fields of Colombia belied his current gentlemanly identity. At heart, he might still be that rough-and-tumble man who fought, finessed, and bullied his way to a fortune in the oil industry. A man didn’t successfully do business with the Tropical Oil Company without a heart as hard as mahogany, and without spilling some blood. In any event, it was not for Bourne to gamble with Tracy’s life.

“You’re right, Don Hererra. My apologies,” Bourne said. “Now to the truth: I was hired by one of your enemies, but not to take the Goya from you.”

Tracy’s eyes opened even wider.

“I came up with this ruse to get in to see you.”

Hererra’s eyes glittered as he drew up a chair to sit in front of Bourne. “Continue.”

“My name is Adam Stone.”

“Forgive me if I’m skeptical.” He snapped his fingers. “Passport. And use your left hand. You don’t want to alarm Fausto, believe me.”

Bourne did. With the tips of the fingers on his left hand, he produced his passport, which Hererra scrutinized as if he were a special agent from immigration.

As he handed back the document, he said, “All right, Señor Stone, what are you?”

“I’m a freelance specialist in let us say hardware of a special nature.

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