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'Treadstone？' he said loud enough to be heard from below。
'Delta！'
Cain is for Charlie and Delta is for Cain。 Why did the man from Treadstone use the name Delta rather than Cain？ Delta was no part of Treadstone； he had disappeared with Medusa。 Jason started down the hill； the cold rain whipping his face； his hand instinctively reaching beneath his jacket； pressing the automatic in his belt。
He walked onto the stretch of lawn in front of the white mausoleum。 The man from Treadstone limped towards him； then stopped； raising his flashlight； the harsh beam causing Bourne to squint and turn his head away。
'It's been a long time；' said the crippled officer； lowering the light。 'The name's Conklin； in case you've forgotten。'
'Thank you。 I had。 It's only one of the things。'
'One of what things？'
〃That I've forgotten。'
'You remembered this place； though。 I guessed you would； I read Abbott's logs； it was here you last met； last made a delivery。 During a state burial for some minister or other； wasn't it？'
'I don't know。 That's what we have to talk about first you haven't heard from me in over six months。 There's an explanation。'
'Really？ Let's hear it。'
The simplest way to put it is that I was wounded； shot； the effects of the wounds causing a severe。。。 dislocation。 Disorientation is a better word； I guess。'
'Sounds good。 What does it mean？'
'I suffered a memory loss。 Total。 I spent over five months on an island in the Mediterranean … south of Marseilles … not knowing who I was or where I came from。 There's a doctor； an Englishman named Washburn； who kept medical records。 He can verify what I'm telling you。'
'I'm sure he can；' said Conklin； nodding。 'And I'll bet those records are massive。 Christ； you paid enough。'
'What do you mean？'
'We've got a record； too。 A bank officer in Zurich who thought he was being tested by Treadstone transferred three million Swiss francs to Marseilles for an untraceable collection。 Thanks for giving us the name。'
That's part of what you have to understand。 I didn't know。 He'd saved my life； put me back together。 I was damn near a corpse when I was brought to him。'
'So you decided a million…odd dollars was a pretty fair ballpark figure； is that is？ Courtesy of the Treadstone budget。'
'I told you； I didn't know。 Treadstone didn't exist for me； in many ways it still doesn't。'
'I forgot。 You lost your memory。 What was the word？ Disorientation？'
'Yes； but it's not strong enough。 The word is amnesia。'
'Let's stick to disorientation。 Because it seems you oriented yourself straight into Zurich； right to the Gemeinschaft。'
There was a negative surgically implanted near my hip。'
'There certainly was； you insisted on it。 A few of us understood why。 It's the best insurance you can have。'
'I don't know what you're talking about。 Can't you understand that！'
'Sure。 You found the negative with only a number on it and right away you assumed the name of Jason Bourne。'
'It didn't happen that way！ Each day it seemed I learned something； one step at a time； one revelation at a time。 A hotel clerk called me Bourne； I didn't learn the name Jason until I went to the bank。'
'Where you knew exactly what to do；' interrupted Conklin。 'No hesitation at all。 In and out； four million gone。'
'Washburn told me what to do！'
Then a woman came along who just happened to be a financial whiz kid to tell you how to squirrel away the rest I And before that you took out Chernak in the Lowenstrasse； and three men we didn't know but figured they sure as hell knew you。 And here in Paris； another shot in a bank transfer truck。 Another associate？ You covered every track； every goddamned track。 Until there was only one thing left to do。 And you … you son of a bitch … you did it。〃
'Will you listen to me！ Those men tried to kill me； they've been hunting me since Marseilles。 Beyond that； I honestly don't know what you're talking about！。。。 Things e to me at times。 Faces； streets； buildings； sometimes just images I can't place； but know they mean something； only I can't relate to them。 And names … there are names； but then no faces。 Goddamn you！ I'm an amnesiac I That's the truth！'
'One of those names wouldn't be Carlos； would it？'
'Yes； and you know it！ That's the point； you know much more about it than / do！ I can recite a thousand facts about Carlos； but / don't know why。 I was told I had an agreement with Treadstone by a man who's halfway back to Asia by now； a man who worked for Carlos； He said Carlos knows。 That Carlos was closing in on me； that you put out the word that I'd turned。 He couldn't understand the strategy； and I couldn't tell him。 You thought I'd turned because you didn't hear from me； and I couldn't reach you because I didn't know who you were； I still don't know who you are。'
'Or the Monk； I suppose。'
'Yes； yes。。。 the Monk。 His name was Abbott。'
'Very good。 And the Yachtsman？ You remember the Yachtsman； don't you？ And his wife？'
'Names。 They're there； yes。 No faces。'
'Elliot Stevens？'
'Nothing。'
'Or。。。 Gordon Webb。' Conklin said the name quietly。
'What？' Bourne felt the jolt in his chest； then a stinging； searing pain that drove through his temples to his eyes。 His eyes were on fire！ Fire！ Explosions and darkness； high winds and pain。。。 Almanac to Delta！ Abandon； abandon！ You will respond as ordered。 Abandon！ 'Gordon。。。' Jason heard his own voice； but it was far away in a faraway wind。 He closed his eyes； the eyes that burned so； and tried to push the mists away。 Then he opened his eyes and was not at all surprised to see Conklin's gun aimed at his head。
'I don't know how you did it； but you did。 The only thing left to do and you did it！ You got back to New York and blew them all away。 You butchered them； you son of a bitch。 I wish to Christ I could bring you back and see you strapped into an electric chair； but I can't； so I'll do the next best thing。 I'll take you myself。'
'I haven't been in New York for the past six months。 Before then； I don't know； but not in the last six months。'
'Liar！ Why didn't you do it really right？ Why didn't you time your goddamn stunt so you could get to the funerals？ The Monk's was just the other day； you would have seen a lot of old friends！ And your brother's'。 Jesus God Almighty＇ You could have escorted his wife down the aisle of the church； maybe delivered the eulogy； that'd be the kicker！ At least； speak well of the brother you killed！'
'Brother？。。。 Stop it！ For Christ's sake； stop it！'
'Why should I？ Cain alive！ We made him and he came to life！'
〃I'm not Cain。 He never was！ I never was！'
〃So you do know！ Liar！ Bastard！'
'Put that gun away。 I'm telling you； put it down。'
'No chance。 I swore to myself I'd give you two minutes because I wanted to hear what you'd e up with。 Well； I've heard it and it smells。 Who gave you the right？ We all lose things； it goes with the job； and if you don't like the goddamned job you get out！ If there's no acmodation you fade； that's what I thought you did and I was willing to pass on you； to persuade the others to let you fade！ But no； you came back and turned your gun on us！'
'I didn't turn my gun on you。'
'Tell that to the laboratory techs who have eight fragments of glass that spell out two prints。 Third and index fingers； right hand。 You were there and you butchered five people！ You … one of them … took out your guns … plural … and blew them away！ Perfect set…up。 Discredited strategy。 Varied shells； multiple bullets； infiltration。 Treadstone's aborted and you walk out free！'
'No； you're wrong！ It was Carlos！ Not me； Carlos。 If what you're saying took place on Seventy…first Street； it was him！ He knows！ They know！ A residence on Seventy…first Street。 Number One hundred and forty。 They know about it！'
Conklin nodded； his eyes clouded； the loathing in them seen in the dim light； through the rain。 'So perfect；' he said slowly。 〃The prime mover of the strategy blows it apart by making a deal with the target。 What's your take beside the four million plus？ Carlos gave you immunity from his own particular brand of persecution？ You two make a lovely couple！'
That's crazy！'
'And accurate；' pleted the man from Treadstone。 'Only eight people knew that address before seven…thirty last Friday night。 Three of them were killed； and we're two of the other five。 If Carlos found it； there's only one person who could have told him。 You！'
'How could I？ I didn't know it！ I don't know it！'
'You just said it。' Conklin's left hand gripped the cane； it was a prelude to firing； steadying a crippled foot。
'Don't；' shouted Bourne； knowing the plea was useless； spinning to his left as he shouted； his right foot lashing out at the wrist that held the gun。 Che…sah was the unknown word that was the silent scream in his head。 Conklin fell back firing wildly in the air； tripping over his cane。 Jason spun around and down； now hammering his left foot at the weapon； it flew out of the hand that held it。
Conklin rolled on the ground； his eyes on the far columns of the mausoleum； expecting an explosion from the gun that would blow his attacker into the air。 No！ The man from Treadstone rolled again！ Now to the right； his features in shock； his wild eyes focused on。。。 There was someone else！
Bourne crouched； diving diagonally backwards as four gunshots came in rapid succession； three screeching ricochets spinning off beyond sound。 Jason rolled over and over and over； pulling the automatic from his belt。 He saw the man in the rain； a silhouetted figure rising above a gravestone。 He fired twice； the man collapsed。
Ten feet away Conklin was thrashing on the wet grass； both hands spreading frantically over the ground； feeling for the steel of a gun。 Bourne sprang up and raced over； he knelt beside the Treadstone man； one hand grabbing the wet hair； the other holding his automatic； its barrel pressed into Conklin's skull。 From the far columns of the mausoleum came a prolonged； shattering scream。 It grew steadily； eerily in volume； then stopped。
That's your hired shotgun；' said Jason； yanking Conklin's head to the side。 Treadstone's taken on some very strange employees。 Who was the other man？ What death row did you spring him from？〃
'He was a better man than you ever were；〃 replied Conklin； his voice strained； the rain glistening on his face； caught in the beam of the fallen torch six feet away on the ground。 〃They all are。 They've all lost as much as you lost； but they never turned。 We can count on them。'
'No matter what I say； you won't believe me。 You don't want to believe me！'
'Because I know what you are； what you did。 You just confirmed the whole damn thing！ You can kill me； but they'll get you。 You're the worst kind。 You think you're special！ You always did！ I saw you after Phnom…Penh … everybody lost out there； but that didn't count with you！ It was only you； just you！ Then in Medusa！ No rules for Delta！ The animal just wanted to kill。 And that's the kind that turns！ Well； I lost； too； but I never turned。 Go on！ Kill me！ Then you can go back to Carlos。 But when I don't e back； they'll know！ They'll e after you and they won't stop until they get you。 Go on！ Shoot！'
Conklin was shouting； but Bourne could hardly hear him。 Instead； he had heard two words and the jolts of pain hammered at his temples。 Phnom…Penh！ Phnom…Penh。 Death in the skies； from the skies。 Death of the young and the very young。
Screeching birds and screaming machines and the deathlike stench of the jungle。。。 and a river。 He was blinded again； on fire again。
Beneath him the man from Treadstone had broken away。 His crippled figure was crawling in panic； lunging； his hands surging through the wet grass。 Jason blinked； trying to force his mind to e back to him。 Then instantly he knew he had to point the automatic and fire。 Conklin had found his gun and was raising it！ But Bourne could not pull the trigger。
He dived to his right； rolling on the ground； scrambling towards the marble columns of the mausoleum。 Conklin's gunshots were wild； the crippled man unable to steady his leg or his aim。 Then the firing stopped and Jason got to his feet； his face against the smooth wet stone。 He looked out； his automatic raised； he had to kill this man for this man would ki