It seemed a long time later-but surely it couldn‘t have been-when she became aware that somebody was in the kitchen with her. In fact, two somebodies. They were crouched down beside her.
— What happened? Bamber asked. -Are you all right?
— I slipped and fell, that‘s all. Moira‘s eyes were perfectly dry now.
— I‘ll fetch you a brandy. Lamontierre, in a white unitard and ballet slippers, a towel draped around his neck, headed back into the living room.
Moira, shrugging off Bamber‘s proffered hand, levered herself to her feet. Lamontierre returned with a snifter half filled with an amber liquid, some of which she drank immediately. The fire worked its way down her throat and flooded her body, bringing her fully back to herself.
— Mr. Lamontierre, she said, — thank you for your hospitality, but to be honest I need to talk to Mr. Bamber in private.
— Of course. If you‘re all right…
— I am.
— Excellent, then I‘ll go shower. H, if you want to stay here for the time being… He regarded Moira for a moment. -Actually, both of you are welcome here for as long as you need.
— That‘s extremely generous of you, Moira said.
— It‘s nothing. He waved away her words. -I‘m afraid I don‘t have any fresh clothes for you.
Moira laughed. -I can take care of that easily enough.
— Well, then. Lamontierre gave Bamber a brief hug, and left them alone.
— He‘s a good man, Moira said.
— Yes, he is, Bamber acknowledged.
By unspoken mutual consent, they returned to the living room, where they collapsed, exhausted, on the sofas.
— What happens now? Bamber said.
— You help me find out exactly what Noah Perlis is using Bardem for.
— Really? His entire body stiffened. -And how do you propose I do that?
— How about hacking into his computer?
— How easy for both of us that would be! He shifted his position, perching himself on the edge of the cushion. -Unfortunately, it‘s impossible. Noah uses a laptop. I know this because he has me send the updated versions of Bardem directly to it.
— Ugh! Though Wi-Fi networks were notoriously porous, Black River‘s was not. It had established its own worldwide network that was, as far as she knew, impenetrable. Of course, in theory no network was 100 percent secure, but it might take a platoon of hackers years to get through. Unless…
— Wait a minute, she said, suddenly excited. -If you had a laptop loaded with the Black River Wi-Fi encryption, would that help?
Bamber shrugged. -Probably, but how on earth are you going to get your hands on one?
— I used to work for Black River, she said. -I cloned the hard drive from my laptop before I sent it back. She considered the remaining obstacle to this possible solution. -The only problem is every time a Black River agent leaves the company the encryption is updated.
— Doesn‘t matter. If they‘re using the same root algorithm, which I‘m sure they are, I should be able to crack it. He shook his head. -Not that it matters. His voice had soured. -We can‘t go back to our respective apartments, remember? Noah‘s people are sure to be waiting for us in both places.
Moira stood, looked around for her coat. -Nevertheless, she said, — I‘ve got to try.
22
ON THE ONE-HOUR FLIGHT from Seville to Madrid, Bourne realized that Tracy was no longer wearing her wedding band. When he asked her about it, she plucked it out of her handbag.
— I usually wear it when I‘m traveling to discourage unwanted conversations, she said, — but there‘s no reason to wear it now.
From Madrid they were booked on an Egyptair flight to Cairo. Once there, they were set to be taken to a military airfield just outside the Cairo International Airport, where a charter flight was waiting to fly them to Khartoum. She had already had her visas, and Don Hererra was kind enough to expedite Bourne‘s-still under the name of Adam Stone, of course. He‘d also provided Bourne with a satellite phone, because his cell would have only spotty coverage in Africa.
As Tracy put the ring away, she brought her briefcase onto her lap. -I‘m sorry about that call to Professor Zuiga.
— Why? It wasn‘t your fault.
She sighed. -I‘m afraid it was. With a sheepish look, she opened the briefcase. -I‘m afraid I have a rather awful confession to make. She took out the sheets Bourne had already seen: the X-rays of the Goya and the letter from the professor.
As she handed them over, she said, — You see, I‘d already met him. Those are the X-rays he took, that‘s his letter authenticating the Goya. He was really very excited by the find-so much so, in fact, that he actually wept when I took it away from him.
