— Think about it, Boris, why would Arkadin trick me into coming here-
especially, as you said, with a beautiful young woman? It pained Bourne to talk about Tracy, but as much as she was still on his mind, he had a mystery to unravel-and a deadly enemy to confront.
A light suddenly came on behind Karpov‘s eyes. -Arkadin was banking on you killing Yevsen?
Bourne splashed tepid water over his face, feeling the small cuts and bruises stinging like nettles. -Or Yevsen killing me. Either way, he‘d win.
Karpov shook himself like a dog coming out of the rain. -If what you theorize is true, he might have known of my raid. He wouldn‘t want Yevsen singing about him or anyone else. Dammit, I‘ve seriously underestimated that man.
Bourne turned his blood-streaked face toward the colonel. -He‘s more than a man, Boris. Like me, he‘s a graduate of Treadstone. Alex Conklin trained Arkadin, just like he trained me, to become the ultimate undercover killing machine, carrying out covert operations impossible for anyone else to accomplish.
— And just where is this devilish graduate now? Boris asked.
Bourne wiped his face down with a fistful of paper towels. They came away pink. -Tracy told me before she died. Yevsen said he was in Nagorno-Karabakh, Azerbaijan.
— Mountain country, I know it well, Boris said. -I discovered the area was one of Yevsen‘s prime stopovers for the Air Afrika flights transshipping his illegal arms throughout this continent. It‘s home to a number of indigenous tribes-all of them fanatic Muslims.
— That makes sense. Bourne regarded his face in the mirror, taking stock of the damage, which was superficial but extensive. Whose reflection stared back at him? Tracy surely would have empathized with that question, no doubt having many times asked it of herself. -Ivan told me that Arkadin has taken over the Eastern Brotherhood, which means he‘s also the leader of their Black Legion terrorists. Maybe he‘s trying to branch out into Yevsen‘s multibillion-dollar business.
Then Bourne saw the Goya that Karpov had propped up against the tile wall. -Do you know a man named Noah Petersen, or Perlis?
— No, why?
— He‘s a senior officer in Black River.
— The American risk management company-also known as private contractors for your government-also known as mercenaries.
— Right on all three counts. Bourne led the way back out into the corridor, which stank of gunpowder and death. -Tracy was bringing the Goya to Noah, but I believe now it was actually a payment to Yevsen for services rendered. That‘s the only logical explanation for Noah being here.
— So Yevsen, Black River, and Arkadin are in something together.
Bourne nodded. -Did you or your men encounter an American when you raided the building?
Karpov pulled a small walkie-talkie off its Velcro patch on his vest and spoke into it. After the crackle of an answer had been received, he shook his head. -You‘re the only American in the building, Jason. But there‘s a Sudanese of questionable character who claims he was being interrogated by an American just before the raid began.
Perlis must have been lured away by Bourne‘s diversion with the lurker. Where had he gone? Bourne could feel himself approaching the center of the web, where the lethal spider patiently lay in wait. -And since Black River‘s main client is the NSA, there‘s a good chance it has to do with the ratcheted-up tension in Iran.
— You think Nikolai Yevsen is arming a Black River raiding party ready to invade Iran?
— Highly unlikely, Bourne said. -The NSA can provide more than enough state-of-the-art armaments that Yevsen could never get his hands on. Besides, for that they wouldn‘t need Arkadin‘s help. No, the Americans have identified the missile that brought down the plane-it‘s Iranian, a Kowsar 3.
Karpov nodded. -Now it‘s starting to make sense. This Goya is payment to Yevsen for supplying the Kowsar 3.
At that moment, Karpov spotted one of his men jogging along the hallway toward him. He stared at Bourne for a moment, then handed his commander a sheet of curling thermal paper-clearly a printout from a portable printer.
— Get Lirov, Karpov said as he scanned the document. -Tell him to bring his full kit. I want this man checked out from stem to stern.
The soldier nodded wordlessly and sped off.
— I told you I didn‘t need-
Karpov held up a hand. -Hold on, you‘ll want to hear this. My IT man was able to salvage something from Yevsen‘s servers after all-apparently they weren‘t completely wiped. He handed Bourne the sheet of thermal paper. -Here are Yevsen‘s last three transactions.
Bourne did a quick scan of the information. -The Kowsar 3.
— Right. Just as we surmised, Yevsen acquired an Iranian Kowsar 3 and sold it to Black River.
Where are you going? Humphry Bamber said, twisting around in his seat. -And why are you holding a gun?
— Someone knows you‘re here, Moira said.
— Dear God. Bamber moaned and began to get up.
— Stay right there. Moira held him down with a firm hand. She could feel the chills running through him in waves. -We know someone‘s coming and we know what he wants.
— Yeah, me dead. You don‘t expect me to sit here and wait for a bullet in the back.
