Robert Ludlum's (TM) The Bourne Initiative (Jason Bourne series)(22)
It was only several minutes later that Goode returned and, with that innocent smile of his, ushered her back to Mac’s inner sanctum. He was going to see her even without an appointment—a sign of her worth to him, even though she had never been here before.
He was sitting at the far end of what looked like a football field, but that might have been an illusion caused by the eerie violet lighting that was part of the electronic security net that enclosed the space.
The lieutenant vanished as soon as Morgana stepped across the threshold, closing the door soundlessly behind him. Halfway to Mac’s imposing desk, which surely wasn’t government issue, was a conversation area, complete with matching leather sofas and easy chair and an inlaid glass-topped coffee table, also not government issue.
“Morgana,” Mac said, smiling and extending a warm, dry hand. “To what do I owe this visit?”
Someone must have cleaned up the remnants of the meeting or else it had taken place elsewhere, as the conversation area was spotless enough to eat off of. Mac gestured for Morgana to sit, which she did on one of the sofas. The general chose the easy chair. He sat back, crossed one leg over the other, showing off the knife-edged crease down the center of each trouser leg.
“I tried calling you, but—”
He spread his hands. “I wasn’t available.” And smiled. “But I am now. I’m all yours.”
“I appreciate that, Mac.”
“How are you coming with the Bourne Initiative?”
“You mean the Karpov Initiative.”
“The general’s dead, as we’ve discussed,” he said flatly. “It’s Bourne’s now.”
She nodded. “Right. Of course.” She swallowed, appalled to discover her mouth was suddenly dry. It was one thing talking to Mac over their private line or having lunch with him at one out-of-the-Beltway venue or other, quite another to be sitting in his office in the middle of the NSA wasp nest. She didn’t like it here; she didn’t like it one bit. She felt as if she were about to break out in hives at any moment. She scratched at her forearm.
“The fact is it’s Bourne I’m here to talk to you about.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand. How does Bourne concern you?”
“First, I want to know if you have even linked Bourne with Keyre.”
MacQuerrie grunted. “We have, and it’s simple enough. He was spotted last year in Moscow with a female operative known only as the Angelmaker. She’s a deadly assassin.”
“And?”
“And, the Angelmaker was made a freak of nature by Keyre, then Bourne somehow got hold of her and put the finishing touches on her assassin’s tradecraft. Just in the last five years, she’s been linked to the deaths of no fewer than eleven businessmen, politicians, and the like. A board member of a multinational in Munich, a diamond tycoon in Joburg, a warlord in one of those constantly fomenting African nations, a rising right-wing pol and his two mistresses in Paris, a reclusive cyber-billionaire in Manaus, in the fucking Amazon, no less. Then there was Palermo, where she took out twin brothers, one a Mafia don, the other his high-powered lawyer—that was a doozy. And let’s not forget the murder aboard a billionaire banker’s yacht off the beaches of Ibiza. How she pulled that off… Well, you get the idea. She’s a fucking menace and another reason Bourne needs to be eliminated.” He cocked his head. “Is there a second reason Bourne concerns you?”
Morgana ignored the hint of sarcasm in his question. “So far we have been unable to crack the code you gave us.”
Mac’s frown deepened. “That’s not good news.”
“No, it’s not.” Her forearm was itching again; she resolved to ignore it. “Which is why I want to interrogate Bourne.”
The general blinked. “I beg your pardon.”
“It’s now the Bourne Initiative. You said it yourself, Mac. He’s the only one who can give us access to the—”
“Let me stop you right there.” MacQuerrie held up a hand. “Morgana, you’re a terrifically talented software engineer. The cyber weapons you’ve devised for me, the ones you’ve managed to dismantle before they carried out their nefarious missions, are legion. You’re at the top of your field. But that field is a narrow-beam affair, do you understand me?” He went straight on, not waiting for a reply; she would have to be an idiot not to understand him. “Your expertise in one field does not qualify you as expert in any other.”
“I understand that, Mac, but—”
“This clandestine service—any clandestine service—is, by definition, highly compartmentalized. You understand why this must be.”
“Of course I do.”
“Then let me say you are not qualified to understand what Jason Bourne would or would not do. So allow me to enlighten you. A man like Bourne—if, in fact, we were ever able to capture him, which is highly problematic—would never give us the secret to this cyber weapon. Even if we used the most extreme forms of persuasion, even if we waterboarded him for—”
“Good God, Mac.” She was shaken to her core. “I would never encourage anything like that!”
He smiled thinly. “Of course you wouldn’t. And neither would I.”
“I’m relieved to hear that.”