"Ludlum, Robert - Bourne 01 - The Bourne Identity" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ludlum Robert)

'What are you talking about?'

'As we agreed, it's what you need. You've got to function on the outside, and as of two minutes ago Monsieur Jean-Pierre No-Name is gainfully employed! At least for a week.'

'How did you do that? I thought there weren't any openings.' 'What was about to be opened was Claude Lamouche's infected leg. I explained that my supply of local anaesthetic was very, very limited. We negotiated; you were the bartered coin.'

'A week?'

'If you're any good, he may keep you on.' Washburn paused. 'Although that's not terribly important, is it?'

'I'm not sure any of this is. A month ago, maybe, but not now. I told you. I'm ready to leave. I'd think you'd want me to. I have an appoinI'ment in Zurich.'

'And I'd prefer you function the very best you can at that appoinI'ment My interests are extremely selfish, no remissions permitted.'

'I'm ready.'

'On the surface, yes. But take my word for it, it's vital that you spend prolonged periods of time on the water, some of it at night. Not under controlled conditions, not as a passenger, but subjected to reasonably harsh conditions - the harsher the better, in fact'

'Another test?'

'Every single one I can devise in this primitive hole of Port Noir. If I could conjure up a storm and a minor shipwreck for you, I would. On the other hand, Lamouche is something of a storm himself; he's a difficult man. The swelling in his leg will go down and he'll resent you. So will others; you'll have to replace someone.'

Thanks a lot'

'Don't mention it We're combining two stresses. At least one

or two nights on the water, if Lamouche keeps to schedule -that's the hosI'lle environment which contributed to your hysteria - and exposure to resenI'ment and suspicion from men around you - symbolic ot the initial stress situation.'

Thanks again Suppose they decide to throw me overboard? That'd be your ultimate test, I suppose, but I don't know how much good it would do if I drowned.'

'Oh, there'll be nothing like that,' said Washbum, scoffing.

'I'm glad you're so confident. I wish I were.'

'You can be. You have the protection of my absence. I may not be Barnard or DeBakey, but I'm all these people have. They need me; they won't risk losing me.'

'But you want to leave. I'm your passport out!

'In ways unfathomable, my dear patient. Come on, now. Lamouche wants you down at the dock so you can familiarize yourself with his equipment. You'll be setting out at four o'clock tomorrow morning. Consider how beneficial a week at sea will be. Think of it as a cruise.'

There had never been a cruise like it. The skipper of the filthy, oil-soaked fishing boat was a foul-mouthed rendering of an insignificant Captain Bligh, the crew a quartet of misfits who were undoubtedly the only men on Port Noir willing to put up with Claude Lamouche. The regular fifth member was a brother of the chief neI'man, a fact impressed on the man called Jean-Pierre within minutes after leaving the harbour at four o'clock in the morning.

'You take food from my brother's table!' whispered the neI'man angrily between rapid puffs on an immobile cigarette. 'From the stomachs of his children'

'It's only for a week,' protested Jean-Pierre. It would have been easier - far easier - to offer to reimburse the unemployed brother from Washburn's monthly stipend but the doctor and his patient had agreed to refrain from such compromises.

'I hope you're good with the nets!'

He was not.