lishan2017zheng

@@@@@Uniformed men leaped out from every door, and contrary to anything he expected to see, each scrambled to the borders of the fence, behind the cars and the vans, one after another dashing from one vehicle to another to the open gate that led to the guardhouse and the tunnel There was a break in space, in timeIn men! The last four escapees from the second car were suddenly three?and only moments later did the fourth appear-but he was not the same?the uniform was not the same! There were specks of orange and red, and the visored officer?s cap was laced with gold ribbing, the visor itself too prominent for the American army, the crown of the cap too pointedAnd, suddenly, Bourne understoodFragments of his memories spiraled back years to Madrid or Casavieja, when he was tracing the Jackal?s contracts with the FalangistsIt was a Spanish uniform! That was it! Carlos had infiltrated through the Spanish compound, and as his Russian was fluent, he was using the high-ranking uniform to make his escape from Novgorod Jason lurched to his feet, his automatic drawn, and ran across the graveled lot, his left hand reaching into his field jacket pocket for his second-to-last flareHe pulled the release and hurled the fired stalk above the cars, beyond the fenceBenjamin would not see it from the guardhouse and mistake it for the signal to close the gates of the tunnel; that signal would come shortly?in seconds, perhaps?but at the moment it was premature, again perhaps by seconds ?Eto srochno!? roared one of the escaping men, spinning around and panicked at the sight of the hissing, blinding flare ?Skoryeye!? shouted another, passing three companions and racing toward the open section of the fenceAs the whirling searchlights continued their maniacal spinning, Bourne counted the seven figures as one by one they dashed away from the last car and passed through the opening, joining the excited crowds at the mouth of the tunnelThe eighth man did not appear; the highranking Spanish uniform was nowhere in sightThe Jackal was trapped! Now! Jason whipped out his last flare, yanked the release, and threw it with all his strength over the stream of rushing men and women at the guardhouseDo it, Ben! he screamed in silence as he removed the next-to-last grenade from the pocket of his field jacketDo it now! As if in answer to his fevered plea, a thunderous roar came from the tunnel, round after round of hysterical protestations punctuated by screams and shrieks and wailing chaosTwo rapid, deafening bursts of automatic gunfire preceded unintelligible commands over the speakers, shouted in RussianAnother burst and the same voice continued, louder, even more authoritative, as the crowd momentarily but perceptibly quieted down, only to suddenly resume screaming at full volumeBourne glanced over, astonished to see through the beams of the spinning searchlights the figure of Benjamin now standing on the roof of the concrete guardhouseThe young trainer was Robert Ludlum ?? THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM 433 shouting into the microphone, exhorting the crowd to follow his instructions, whatever they wereAnd whatever they were, they were being obeyed! The multitude gradually, then gathering momentum, began reversing direction?then, as a single unit, started racing back into the street! Benjamin ignited his flare and waved it, pointing to the northHe was sending Jason his own signalNot only was the tunnel shut down but the crowds were being dispersed without anyone being shot with the AK-47There had been a better way Bourne dropped to the ground, his eyes scanning the under sides of the stationary vehicles, the spewing flame beyond lighting up the open sp