Robert Ludlum's The Bourne Shadow by Brian Freeman

Author:Brian Freeman [Freeman, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, Espionage, Political, Terrorism
ISBN: 9780593716465
Google: 1y_dEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B0CL5ZCDWJ
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2024-07-15T22:00:00+00:00

22

The brasserie on Boulevard de Strasbourg faced the stone archways at the entrance to the Gare de l’Est station. Passengers came and went through the wrought-iron gates, and Jason could hear the screech of train wheels. He sat next to Johanna at an outside table, with two chilled glasses of Sancerre in front of them. Taxis and buses belched exhaust on the crowded street, and waves of stifling heat rippled off the pavement.

He checked his watch. It was ten minutes past six in the evening. The train had arrived seven minutes ago, right on time. He expected to see Vandal outside the gates in the next sixty seconds, and he wasn’t disappointed. She blew through the crowd at a fast walk moments later. Her black-and-purple hair was tied in a ponytail that hung through the gap at the back of a white baseball cap. She wore a loose-fitting sleeveless black shirt that showed off her strong arms, along with tight blue jeans and burgundy boots. Sunglasses covered her eyes, but her head swiveled just enough that Bourne knew she saw them. She made no acknowledgment, and she continued away from them without crossing the street.

“Where is she going?” Johanna murmured.

“She’ll clear the area ahead. I’ll make sure no one’s on her trail. In half an hour, we’ll rendezvous in our next location.”

“This world of yours,” Johanna said.

Jason didn’t reply, but he remembered Abbey saying the same thing to him the previous year.

He spent ten more minutes watching the people and vehicles outside Gare de l’Est, until he was sure that Vandal hadn’t been followed, either by Treadstone or anyone else. Then he took Johanna by the hand, and they strolled southward at an easy pace like Paris lovers. His eyes remained alert, but he saw no evidence of a trap being set for them. At the next narrow street, Rue Saint-Laurent, he turned left and led them three more blocks to the flower gardens of Jardin Villemin.

Vandal was waiting on a bench near a cluster of red French poppies within sight of the Canal Saint-Martin.

“Give us a minute alone,” Bourne said to Johanna. “Stay where I can see you, okay?”

“Sure.” Johanna took a few steps onto the green grass, then stopped. “Not that it matters or anything, but I’m curious. Did you and she ever—?”

“No. Never.”

Johanna shot a look at Vandal, whose face wore no expression, and then she looked back to Jason. “Yeah, okay.”

She settled on the grass and began doing yoga.

Bourne continued along the path and took a seat on the bench next to Vandal. The Treadstone agent kept her sunglasses on and stared straight ahead. She’d bought a cone of takeaway frites, which she ate one at a time.

“Cain,” she said.

“Thanks for coming. Are you clear?”

“Yes. For now, I’m off the Treadstone grid.”

“What did you tell Nash?”

“I said I needed to take a couple of days after the shootout in Switzerland.”

“He believed that?”

“Probably not. But I said I’d help you, so here I am. Just know that I’m walking a fine line on this one.

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