The Bourne Deception

6





MOIRA AWOKE to the ticking of her mothers heart. It was as loud as a grandfather clock and it terrified her. For a moment she lay in a fury of darkness, reliving the blur of sound and motion as the paramedics came, took her mother off to the hospital, all seen through a haze of tears. That was the last time she saw her mother alive. She never had a chance to say good-bye; instead, the last words shed said to her were I hate your guts. Why dont you stay out of my life! All of a sudden her mother was dead. Moira was seventeen.

Then the pain set in and she began screaming.

The ticking was real; it was, in fact, the sound of the over-revved engine cooling. Hands were pulling at her, cutting through the web of her seat belt, the flaccid cloud of the air bag. As if in a dream, she felt her body moving, the drag of gravity settling in her shoulder and the pit of her stomach. Her head felt as if it had been split open; she was nauseated with pain. Then, with a crash that reverberated through the cotton in her ears, she was out of her steel cage. She felt the night air soft on her cheek, and there were voices near her, buzzing like angry insects.

Her mother the hospital waiting room, stinking of disinfectant and despair the sight of the wax doll in the open coffin, horrifying in its inhuman lack of animation at the cemetery, the yellow sky reeking of coal gas and sorrow the ground swallowing the coffin whole, like a beast closing its jaws clods of newly turned earth damp with rain and tears

Awareness returned to her slowly, like a fog creeping over a moor, and then, with the suddenness of a floodlight being switched on, full consciousness returned. Awakening from a dream, she knew where she was and what had happened. She felt death close by, knew that it had bypassed her by inches. Each breath felt like fire and ice, but she was alive. She wriggled her fingers and toes. All there; all working.

Jay, she said into the face of the paramedic bent over her. Is Jay all right

Whos Jay a voice out of her field of vision said.

There was no one else in your car. The paramedic had a kind face. He looked too young for this kind of work.

Not my car, she managed. The one in front.

Oh, jeez, came the voice at her side.

The kind face above her split in sorrow. Your friend Jay. He didnt make it.

Tears leaked from the corners of Moiras eyes. Oh, hell, she said. Oh, damn.

They began to work on her again, and she said, I want to sit up.

That wouldnt be a good idea, maam, the kind face said. Youre in shock and

Im sitting up, Moira said, with or without your help.

With hands under her arms, he drew her up. She was in the street, next to her car. When she tried to look around, she winced and lights exploded behind her eyes.

Get me to my feet, she said through gritted teeth. I need to see him.

Maam

Is anything broken

No, maam, but

Then get me to my goddamn feet!

There were two of them now, the second one improbably looking younger than the first.

Do you even shave she said as they raised her off the tarmac. Her knees nearly buckled and a wave of blackness consumed her so she had to lean on them for a minute.

Maam, youre white as a sheet, the kind face said. I really think

Please dont call me maam. My name is Moira.

The cops will be here in a minute, the other one said under his breath.

She felt a clutch in the pit of her stomach.

The kind face said to her, Moira, my name is Dave and my partner here is Earl. There are policemen who want to ask you what happened.

It was a policeman who caused all this, Moira said.

What Dave said. What did you say

I want to see Jay.

Believe me, Earl said, you really dont.

Moira reached down, patted her Lady Hawk. Dont f*ck with me, guys.

Without another word they took her down the street. It was littered with car parts and the glitter of blown-out windows and taillights. She saw a fire truck, an EMT ambulance beside the hideous wreck of the Audi. No one could have survived that crash. With each step she gained strength and confidence. She was banged up and bruised, possibly, as they said, in shock, but otherwise unscathed. Luck beyond words. She thought of the pig spirit in Bali, who must still be protecting her.

Here come the Warm Jets, Earl said.

He means the cops, Dave translated.

Guys, she said, I need some alone time with my friend and the cops wont let me have it.

Neither should we, Dave said dubiously.

Ill handle these bozos. Earl peeled off to intercept them.

Steady on.

Dave gripped her more tightly as she staggered without Earls countervailing support. She took another couple of deep breaths to clear her mind and steady her body. She knew she had very little time before the cops would brush aside whatever smokescreen Earl managed to concoct.

They passed the all-but-unrecognizable crumple-and-twist of the Audi. She took a deep breath, righted herself, then they were at what remained of Jay Weston. He looked more like a lump of raw meat than a human being.

How in the world did you get him out

Jaws of Life. In his case, it didnt help. Dave helped her to squat down beside the corpse, held her up as another wave of dizziness threatened to topple her. It might be my job for this, he said.

Relax. My friends will keep you safe. Her eyes were roving over every inch of the wasteland that was Jay. Jesus, nothing could survive this mash-up.

What are you looking for

I wish I knew, but his jacket

Dave reached down, drew something out from underneath the wreckage. You mean this

Moiras heart rate accelerated. It was Jays sapphire-blue suede jacket, miraculously unscathed except for a couple of burned patches on the sleeves. It stank of smoke and toasted cologne.

Believe it or not, things like this happen all the time, Dave said. He had deliberately positioned himself between Moira and the two cops who now brushed by Earl, having had their fill of his medical gobbledygook. We find thingswallets, keys, baseball caps, condomsyou wouldnt believein virtually mint condition, thrown clear of the most horrendous wrecks.

Moira was listening with only one ear as her nimble fingers rifled through the outer and inner pockets. Rolaids, two rubber bands, a paper clip, a pinch of lint. Inside pockets contained no wallet or ID of any kind, which was standard operating procedure. If he got into trouble or needed clearance he made a call. Money was somewhere on his person, burned to a crisp. But speaking of his cell, she palmed it as Dave rose to intercept the cops.

She was about to give up when she spotted the loose thread at one of the inside seams. Pulling it opened a small hole out of which she dug a two-gigabyte thumb drive. Hearing the sound of heavy footfalls coming up behind her, she made the sign of the cross over Jays body and, with Daves strong hand gripping her elbow, stood up to face her wearying interview with the Warm Jets.

Which turned out to be fully as stultifying and dunderheaded as she had foreseen, but at least she had the last laugh because before they got around to asking her the same questions for the third time she pulled out her Federal Securities Act ID, at which point they went silent. It was all Dave and Earl could do not to snicker into their red faces.

About this traffic cop, Moira said. I need to know who he was. Ive already told you twice even though you clearly didnt believe me, he discharged his weapon through the side window of Mr. Westons Audi.

And you say Mr. Weston worked for you The taller of the two cops was a badge named Severin.

When she said yes, he nodded at his partner, who stepped away to use his cell phone.

What were you doing kneeling over the body Severin said. Maybe he was just marking time, because hed seen what she was doing and hed already asked her twice.

Praying for my friends soul.

Severin frowned, though he nodded, possibly in sympathy. Then he jerked his head at Dave and Earl. These yahoos shouldnt have let you anywhere near your friend. This is a crime scene.

So I understand.

His frown deepened, but the nature of his thoughts remained a mystery as his partner returned to the huddle.

Heres a kick in the groin, he said facetiously. Theres no record of a motorcycle police from traffic or from any other department, for that matter, in this vicinity in the time frame we have.

Damn it to hell.

Moira palmed open her cell, but before she had a chance to make a call, two men strode up. They wore identical dark suits but had the slope-shouldered military bearing of NSA operatives. She knew she was in trouble the moment they showed their IDs to the detectives.

Weve got it from here, boys, Dark Suit Number One said while his partner gave the cops the thousand-yard stare. As the police backed off, Dark Suit Number One slipped his hand into Moiras pocket with the deftness of a professional pickpocket. Ill take that, Ms. Trevor, he said, holding Jays cell between the tips of his blunt fingers.

Moira lunged for it, but Dark Suit One snatched it out of her reach.

Hey, thats the property of my company.

Sorry, Dark Suit One said, this has been impounded as a matter of national security.

Before Moira could say a word he took her arm. Now if youll be kind enough to come with us.

What Moira said. You have no right to do this.

Im afraid we do, Dark Suit One said as his partner positioned himself on her other side. He held aloft Jays cell. You were tampering with a crime scene.

As she was taken away, Dave took a step toward her.

Out of the way! Dark Suit Number Two barked.

His sharp tone seemed to take the paramedic aback and he stumbled against her, mumbled an apology, then backed away.

Now Moiras view of the scene changed so that she was able to see the man standing behind the NSA agent. It was Noah, staring at her with a feral grin. He took Jays cell and put it in his inside jacket pocket.

As he walked away, he said, You cant say you werent warned.


Astride the motorbike Dr. Firth had rented, Bourne drove up into the East Bali mountainsalmost straight up at several pointsuntil he arrived at the foot of Pura Lempuyang, the Dragon Temple complex. He parked under the watchful eye of a diminutive attendant in a canvas chair protected from the fierce sun by the dappled shade of a tree. Buying a bottle of water at one of the line of stands that served both pilgrims and curious tourists, he set off up the stiff incline, wrapped in his traditional sarong and sash.

The priest at the Bat Cave had not seen Suparwita, though he knew of him, but when Bourne had used him as a sounding board to describe his recurring dream, the priest had instantly identified the dragon staircases as those belonging to Pura Lempuyang. Bourne had left him after getting detailed directions to the temple complex high up on Mount Lempuyang.

It did not take him long to reach the first temple, a simple enough affair that seemed more like an anteroom to the steep steps that led up to the second temple. By the time he reached the intricately carved gateway, the ache in his chest had turned into a pain that obliged him to pause. Looking through the arched gate, he saw the three staircases, even steeper than the two hed just ascended. They were guarded by six enormous stone dragons whose sinuous and scaly bodies undulated up the stairway serving as banisters.

The priest hadnt steered him wrong. This was the place of his dream, this was where hed been when hed seen the figure framed in the archway turn toward him. Turning around, he peered through the archway at the breathtaking view of sacred Mount Agung, rising blue and misty, now wreathed in clouds, its iconic cone shape visible in all its monumental power.

Drawn to the dragon staircases, Bourne continued his ascent. Stopping midway, he turned to look back at the gateway. There was the volcano framed between the soaring teeth that formed the entrance. His heart skipped a beat as a figure was silhouetted against Mount Agung. Involuntarily, he took a step down, then saw the figure was that of a little girl in a red-and-yellow sarong. She turned, moving in that liquid, sinuous way of all Balinese children, and abruptly vanished, leaving only dusty sunlight in her wake.

Resuming his climb, Bourne soon reached the upper plaza of the temple. There were a few people scattered here and there. A man knelt, praying. Bourne wandered aimlessly among the heavily carved structures, feeling somehow that he was floating, as if he had entered his dream, his past, but as a stranger returning to a place of forgotten familiarity.

He wished this place struck a chord, but it didnt, which bothered him. His experience with his form of amnesia was that a name, a sight, a smell often triggered a return of his lost memory about a place or a person. Why had he been in Bali Being here in this place he had been dreaming about for months should have released the memories from the well of his mind. But those memories were like a fluke on a sandy sea bottomthat strange creature with two eyes on one side and none on the othereither all there or not at all.

The man at prayer was finished. He rose from his kneeling position and, as he turned around, Bourne recognized Suparwita.

His heart beating fast, he walked over to where Suparwita stood, contemplating him.

You look well, Suparwita said.

I survived. Moira thinks its because of you.

The healer smiled, looked beyond Bourne for a moment, at the temple. I see youve found part of your past.

Bourne turned, looked as well. If I have, he said, I dont know what it is.

And yet you came.

Ive been dreaming about this place ever since I got here.

Ive been waiting for you, and the powerful entity who guides and protects you brought you.

Bourne turned back. Shiva Shiva is the god of destruction.

And of transformation. Suparwita raised an arm, indicating that they should walk. Tell me about your dream.

Bourne looked around. Im here, looking back at Mount Agung through the entryway. Suddenly, theres a figure silhouetted there. It turns to look at me.

And then

And then I wake up.

Suparwita nodded slowly, as if he half expected this answer. They had walked the entire circumference of the temple plaza, and now had reached the area just in front of the entryway. The angle of light was just as it was in his dream, and Bourne gave a little shiver.

You were seeing the person you were here with, Suparwita said. A woman named Holly Marie Moreau.

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Bourne couldnt place it. Where is she now

Im afraid shes dead. Suparwita pointed to the space between the two heavily carved teeth of the gateway. She was there, just as you remember in your dream, and then she was gone.

Gone

She fell. Suparwita turned to him. Or was pushed.