SyndicationAug102010
Then another dog
appeared, this a long-haired...
Then another dog
appeared, this a long-haired shepherdIt slowed down, awkwardly yet instinctively, as if
programmed to halt at a specific area; it stopped, an obscure moving silhouette up the road
Standing motionless, Bourne understoodThese were trained male attack dogs, each with its own
territory, which was constantly urinated upon, forever its own turfIt was a behavioral discipline
favored by Oriental peasants and small landowners who knew too well the price of feeding the
animals who guarded their minuscule fiefdoms of survivalTrain a few, as few as possible, to
protect their separated areas from thieves, and if alarms were raised the others would convergeIt was coming back to him! Vague, obscure outlines?imagesA
young, powerful man in uniform, driving a Jeep, stepping out, and?through the mists of Jason?s
inner screen?yelling at what was left of an assault team that had returned from interdicting an
ordnance route paralleling the Ho Chi Minh TrailThat same man, older, larger, had been in his
binoculars only moments ago! And years ago that same man had promised big chanel suppliesAmmunition,
mortars, grenades, radiosHe had brought nothing! Only complaints from Command Saigon that
?you fucking illegals fed us crap!? But they hadn?tSaigon had acted too late, reacted too late, and
twenty-six men had been killed or captured for nothing
As if it were an hour ago, a minute ago, Bourne remembered5 out of his
holster and, without warning, jabbed the barrel into the approaching noncom?s forehead
?One more word and you?re dead, Sergeant The man had been a sergeant! ?You bring us our
requisitions by O-five-hundred tomorrow morning or I?ll get to Saigon and personally blow you
into the wall of whatever whorehouse you?re frequentingDo I make myself clear or do you care to
save me a trip to publicity city? Frankly, in light of our losses, I?d rather waste you now
?You?ll get what you need
?Tr?s bien!? had yelled the oldest French member of Medusa, who years later would save his
life in a wildlife sanctuary in Beijing?Tu es formidable, mon fils!? How right he wasD?Anjou, a man legends were written aboutJason?s thoughts were abruptly shattered
The long-haired attack dog was suddenly circling dior rasta bag in the road, its snarls growing louder, its nostrils
picking up the human scentWithin seconds, as the animal found its directional bearings, a frenzy
developedThe dog lunged through the foliage, its teeth bared, the snarls now the throated growls
of a killBourne sprang back into the fence, pulling the CO2 pistol out of its nylon shoulder holster
with his right hand; his left arm crooked, extended, prepared for a vital counterassault that if not
executed properly would cost him the nightThe crazed animal leaped, a hurling mass of rage
Jason fired, first one cartridge and then the second, and as the darts were embedded, he whipped his
left arm around the attack dog?s head, yanking the skull counterclockwise, slamming his right knee
up into the animal?s body to ward off the lashing sharp-nailed pawsIt was over in moments?
moments of raging, panicked, finally disintegrating fury?without the howling sounds that might
have carried across the lawn of the general?s estateThe long-haired dog, its narcotized eyes wide,
fell limp in Bourne?s armsHe lowered it to the ground and once again waited, sac kelly hermes afraid to move until
he knew that no converging inhuman alarms had been sent to the other animals
There were none; there was only the constant murmuring of the forest beyond the prohibiting
fenceJason replaced the CO2 pistol in his holster and crept forward, back to the graveled road,
beads of sweat rolling down his face and into his eyesHe had been away too longYears ago such
Robert Ludlum ?? THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM
94
a feat as silencing an attack dog would have rolled off him?un exercise ordinaire, as the legend
d?Anjou would have said?but it was no longer ordinaryWhat permeated his being was fearPure,
unadulterated fearWhere was the man that was? Still, Marie and the children were out there; that
man had to be summonedSummon him!
Bourne stripped out the binoculars and raised them to his eyes againThe moonlight was
sporadic, low-flying clouds intercepting the rays, but the yellow wash was sufficientHe focused
on the shrubbery that fronted the stockade fence that bordered the road outsidePacing back and
forth on a bisecting dirt path like an angry, impatient panther was the black dior saddle bags Doberman, stopping
now and then to urinate and poke its long snout into the bushesAs he had been programmed to do,
the animal roamed between the opposing closed iron gates of the enormous circular driveAt each
halting checkpoint it snarled, spinning around several times as if both expecting and loathing the
sharp electrical shock it would receive through its collar if it transgressed without causeAgain, the
method of training went back to Vietnam; soldiers disciplined the attack dogs around ammunition
and mat?riel depots with such remote-signaling devicesJason focused the binoculars on the far
side of the expansive front lawnHe zeroed in on a third animal, this a huge Weimaraner, gentle in
appearance but lethal in attackThe hyperactive dog raced back and forth, aroused perhaps by
squirrels or rabbits in the brush, but not by human scent; it did not raise a throated growl, the signal
of assault
Jason tried to analyze what he observed, for that analysis would determine his movesHe had to
assume that there was a fourth or a fifth, or even a sixth animal patrolling the perimeters of
Swayne?s classic chanel quilted bag grou
appeared, this a long-haired shepherdIt slowed down, awkwardly yet instinctively, as if
programmed to halt at a specific area; it stopped, an obscure moving silhouette up the road
Standing motionless, Bourne understoodThese were trained male attack dogs, each with its own
territory, which was constantly urinated upon, forever its own turfIt was a behavioral discipline
favored by Oriental peasants and small landowners who knew too well the price of feeding the
animals who guarded their minuscule fiefdoms of survivalTrain a few, as few as possible, to
protect their separated areas from thieves, and if alarms were raised the others would convergeIt was coming back to him! Vague, obscure outlines?imagesA
young, powerful man in uniform, driving a Jeep, stepping out, and?through the mists of Jason?s
inner screen?yelling at what was left of an assault team that had returned from interdicting an
ordnance route paralleling the Ho Chi Minh TrailThat same man, older, larger, had been in his
binoculars only moments ago! And years ago that same man had promised big chanel suppliesAmmunition,
mortars, grenades, radiosHe had brought nothing! Only complaints from Command Saigon that
?you fucking illegals fed us crap!? But they hadn?tSaigon had acted too late, reacted too late, and
twenty-six men had been killed or captured for nothing
As if it were an hour ago, a minute ago, Bourne remembered5 out of his
holster and, without warning, jabbed the barrel into the approaching noncom?s forehead
?One more word and you?re dead, Sergeant The man had been a sergeant! ?You bring us our
requisitions by O-five-hundred tomorrow morning or I?ll get to Saigon and personally blow you
into the wall of whatever whorehouse you?re frequentingDo I make myself clear or do you care to
save me a trip to publicity city? Frankly, in light of our losses, I?d rather waste you now
?You?ll get what you need
?Tr?s bien!? had yelled the oldest French member of Medusa, who years later would save his
life in a wildlife sanctuary in Beijing?Tu es formidable, mon fils!? How right he wasD?Anjou, a man legends were written aboutJason?s thoughts were abruptly shattered
The long-haired attack dog was suddenly circling dior rasta bag in the road, its snarls growing louder, its nostrils
picking up the human scentWithin seconds, as the animal found its directional bearings, a frenzy
developedThe dog lunged through the foliage, its teeth bared, the snarls now the throated growls
of a killBourne sprang back into the fence, pulling the CO2 pistol out of its nylon shoulder holster
with his right hand; his left arm crooked, extended, prepared for a vital counterassault that if not
executed properly would cost him the nightThe crazed animal leaped, a hurling mass of rage
Jason fired, first one cartridge and then the second, and as the darts were embedded, he whipped his
left arm around the attack dog?s head, yanking the skull counterclockwise, slamming his right knee
up into the animal?s body to ward off the lashing sharp-nailed pawsIt was over in moments?
moments of raging, panicked, finally disintegrating fury?without the howling sounds that might
have carried across the lawn of the general?s estateThe long-haired dog, its narcotized eyes wide,
fell limp in Bourne?s armsHe lowered it to the ground and once again waited, sac kelly hermes afraid to move until
he knew that no converging inhuman alarms had been sent to the other animals
There were none; there was only the constant murmuring of the forest beyond the prohibiting
fenceJason replaced the CO2 pistol in his holster and crept forward, back to the graveled road,
beads of sweat rolling down his face and into his eyesHe had been away too longYears ago such
Robert Ludlum ?? THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM
94
a feat as silencing an attack dog would have rolled off him?un exercise ordinaire, as the legend
d?Anjou would have said?but it was no longer ordinaryWhat permeated his being was fearPure,
unadulterated fearWhere was the man that was? Still, Marie and the children were out there; that
man had to be summonedSummon him!
Bourne stripped out the binoculars and raised them to his eyes againThe moonlight was
sporadic, low-flying clouds intercepting the rays, but the yellow wash was sufficientHe focused
on the shrubbery that fronted the stockade fence that bordered the road outsidePacing back and
forth on a bisecting dirt path like an angry, impatient panther was the black dior saddle bags Doberman, stopping
now and then to urinate and poke its long snout into the bushesAs he had been programmed to do,
the animal roamed between the opposing closed iron gates of the enormous circular driveAt each
halting checkpoint it snarled, spinning around several times as if both expecting and loathing the
sharp electrical shock it would receive through its collar if it transgressed without causeAgain, the
method of training went back to Vietnam; soldiers disciplined the attack dogs around ammunition
and mat?riel depots with such remote-signaling devicesJason focused the binoculars on the far
side of the expansive front lawnHe zeroed in on a third animal, this a huge Weimaraner, gentle in
appearance but lethal in attackThe hyperactive dog raced back and forth, aroused perhaps by
squirrels or rabbits in the brush, but not by human scent; it did not raise a throated growl, the signal
of assault
Jason tried to analyze what he observed, for that analysis would determine his movesHe had to
assume that there was a fourth or a fifth, or even a sixth animal patrolling the perimeters of
Swayne?s classic chanel quilted bag grou