The Bourne Identity: A Novel (Jason Bourne)

The Bourne Identity: A Novel (Jason Bourne)

Robert Ludlum

Language: English

Pages: 608

ISBN: 0553593544

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
 
His memory is a blank. His bullet-ridden body was fished from the Mediterranean Sea. His face has been altered by plastic surgery. A frame of microfilm has been surgically implanted in his hip. Even his name is a mystery. Marked for death, he is racing for survival through a bizarre world of murderous conspirators—led by Carlos, the world’s most dangerous assassin. Who is Jason Bourne? The answer may kill him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

if he had been wearing the tortoise-shell glasses when the photograph was taken in Argenteuil. He had not; he had removed them at the table when successive bolts of pain had seared through his head, brought on by words that told him of a past too familiar, too frightening to face. He felt his shirt pocket; the glasses were there if he needed them. He pressed the door closed and started for the woods. The glare of the restaurant floodlights filtered -through the trees, growing brighter with each

freezing water that kept swallowing him, a fire where no fire should burn. There was ice, too; an icelike throbbing in his stomach and his legs and his chest, oddly warmed by the cold sea around him. He felt these things, acknowledging his own panic as he felt them. He could see his own body turning and twisting, arms and feet working frantically against the pressures of the whirlpool. He could feel, think, see, perceive panic and struggle—yet strangely there was peace. It was the calm of the

was a debt to pay in Paris, and a contract to fulfill, his love far safer with the assassin’s death. He took the plastic lighter from his pocket, ignited it and held it beneath a bar rag suspended from a hook. The cloth caught fire; he grabbed it and threw it to his right, as he dove to his left. Carlos fined at the flaming rag, as Bourne spun to his knees, leveling his gun, pulling the trigger twice. The figure buckled but did not fall. Instead, he crouched, then sprang like a white panther

to transfer a great deal of this money and I’ll need your help.” “Again, my privilege. Whatever assistance or advice I can render, I shall be happy to do so.” Bourne reached for the glass of Perrier. The steel door of Apfel’s office closed behind him; within seconds he would walk out of the tasteful anteroom cell, into the reception room and over to the elevators. Within minutes he would be on the Bahnhofstrasse with a name, a great deal of money, and little else but fear and confusion. He

from her chair, greeted the senior executive and escorted him into d’Amacourt’s office. She came out immediately, closing the door behind her. Marie looked at her watch, her eyes on the sweep-second hand. She wanted one more fragment of evidence, and it would be hers shortly if she could get beyond the gate, with a clear view of the secretary’s desk. If it was going to happen, it would happen in moments, the duration brief. She walked to the gate, opening her purse and smiling vacuously at the

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