[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Bourne went willingly with the two plainclothes policemen out of the vault.As they stepped into the corridor, Bourne slammed the edge of his hand down on the cop’s wrist, causing the Makarov to drop and slide along the floor.Whirling, Bourne kicked the other cop, who was flung back against the edge of a square column.Bourne grabbed hold of the arm of the first cop.Lifting it, he slammed his elbow into the cop’s rib cage, then smashed his hand into the back of his neck.With both cops down, Bourne hurried along the corridor, but another man came sprinting toward him, blocking the way to the front of the bank, a man who fit Yakov’s description of Harris Low.Reversing course, Bourne leapt up the marble staircase, taking the steps three at a time.Racing around the turn, he gained the landing of the second floor.He’d memorized the plans Baronov’s friend had procured for him and had planned for an emergency, not trusting to chance that he’d get in and out of the bank without being identified.It was clear Vasily Legev, having recognized gospadin Popov, would blow the whistle on him while he was inside the safe-deposit viewing cubicle.As Bourne broke out into the corridor he encountered one of the bank’s security men.Grabbing him by the front of his uniform, Bourne jerked him off his feet, swung him around, and hurled him down the stairs at the ascending NSA agent.Racing down the corridor, reached the door to the fire stairs, opened it, and went through.Like many buildings of its vintage this one had a staircase that rose around an open central core.Bourne took off up the stairs.He passed the third floor, then the fourth.Behind him, he could hear the fire door bang open, the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs behind him.His maneuver with the guard had slowed down the agent, but hadn’t stopped him.He was midway to the fifth and top floor when the agent fired on him.Bourne ducked, hearing the spang! of the ricochet.He sprinted upward as another shot went past him.Reaching the door to the roof at last, he opened it, and slammed it shut behind him.Harris Low was furious.With all the personnel at his disposal Bourne was still at large.That’s what you get, he thought as he raced up the stairwell, when you leave the details to the Russians.They were great at brute force, but when it came to the subtleties of undercover work they were all but useless.Those two plainclothes officers, for instance.Over Low’s objections they hadn’t waited for him, had gone into the vault after Bourne themselves.Now he was left with mopping up the mess they’d made.He came to the door to the roof, turned the handle, and banged it open with the flat of his shoe.The tarred rooftop, the low winter sky glowered at him.Walther PPK/S at the ready, he stepped out onto the roof in a semi-crouch.Without warning, the door slammed shut on him, driving him back onto the small landing.Up on the roof, Bourne pulled open the door and dived through.He struck Low three blows, directed first at the agent’s stomach and then at his right wrist, forcing Low to let go of the gun.The Walther flew down the stairwell, landing on a step just above the fourth floor.Low, enraged, drove his fists into Bourne’s kidney twice in succession.Bourne collapsed to his knees, and Low kicked him onto his back then straddled his chest, pinning Bourne’s arms.Low gripped Bourne’s throat, squeezing as hard as he could.Bourne struggled to get his arms free, but he had insufficient leverage.He tried to get a breath, but Low’s grip on him was so complete that he was unable to get any oxygen into his system.He stopped trying to free his arms and pressed down with the small of his back, providing a fulcrum for his legs, which he drew up, then extended toward his head.He brought his calves together, sandwiching Low’s head between them.Low tried to shake them off, violently twisting his shoulders back and forth, but Bourne held on, increasing his grip.Then, with an enormous effort, Bourne spun them both to the left.Low’s head hit against the wall, and Bourne’s arms were free.Unwinding his legs, he slammed the palms of his hands against Low’s ears.Low shouted in pain, kicked away, and scrambled back down the stairs.Bourne, on his knees, could see that Low was heading for the Walther.Bourne rose.Just as Low reached it, Bourne launched himself down and across the air shaft.He landed on Low, who whipped the Walther’s short but thick barrel into Bourne’s face.Bourne reared back, and Low bent him over the railing.Four floors of air shaft loomed below, ending in an unforgiving concrete base.As they locked in their struggle, Low slowly, inexorably, brought the muzzle of the Walther to bear on Bourne’s face.At the same time, the heel of Bourne’s hand was pushing Low’s head up.Low shook loose from Bourne’s grip, lunged at him in an effort to pistol-whip him into unconsciousness.Bourne bent his knees.Using Low’s own momentum, he slid one arm under the agent’s crotch, and lifted him up.Low tried to get a fix on Bourne with the Walther, failed, swung his arm back to deliver another blow with the barrel.Using all his remaining strength, Bourne hefted him up and over the banister, dumping him down the air shaft.Low plummeted, a tangle of arms and legs, until he hit the bottom.Bourne turned, went back out onto the roof [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]