The Bourne Identity Page #8

-Here we go.

-Abbott's arrived?

-l'm meeting him at a cemetery.

-Oh, no.

l've been there before. Gen. Villiers'

son's funeral was there.

-The one in the newspaper?

-Yes. Abbott's telling me he's genuine.

l'm staying with you.

l won't have it any other way.

You can't. lf anything happens to me,

go to Villiers.

lf l'm not back by daybreak--

Oh, come on, stop.

-Who are you?

-You know who l am.

-Damn it! l said, who are you?

-General Alex Conklin.

l said l'd see nobody but David Abbott.

Why? To kill him like everybody else

at Treadstone?

-What are you talking about?

-You killed all of them!

Meg. The Yachtsman. Elliot Stevens.

People who'd die rather than turn

and sell out like you did to Carlos.

l haven't turned.

Carlos is trying to kill me.

You bastard.

Gillette, kill him!

David.

David. David.

David. No.

Are you Abbott?

-You don't know me?

-No.

Carlos tried to kill me.

The bullet blew out my memory.

Oh, my God. You remember nothing?

-Almost nothing. Bits and pieces.

-That explains everything.

-You believe me.

-Yes. Yes.

-l killed the man who shot you.

-That was Gillette.

The same man tried to shoot me

at the Trocadero.

He convinced Gen. Conklin that

you turned. He almost convinced me.

-Can you tell me who l am?

-You're David Webb.

You're named for me. l'm David Abbott.

Your father and l grew up together.

We went to Yale and the OSS.

He died when you were seven.

l had no children.

So we did everything together

when you were growing up.

l took you skiing,

and we played tennis.

We talked history.

-We fished. Above all, we fished.

-What about the ClA? Treadstone?

Oh, Davey, you followed me

into this lousy business.

When no one could touch Carlos. . .

. . .and his people had killed

half a dozen Western leaders. . .

. . .and he'd apparently disappeared. . .

. . .then you and l devised

a deep-cover trap for him. . .

. . .designed to flush him out:

The Bourne ldentity.

See if you can walk a little farther.

-The real Jason Bourne, who was he?

-A terrible man.

He killed for the sport of it. Didn't

matter if it was a rat or a man.

-What happened to him?

-We couldn't control him.

Once your plastic surgery and training

were complete, we eliminated him.

-You killed your own man?

-We needed someone. . .

. . .with Bourne's reputation,

but someone decent.

Decent?

The object was to kill Carlos,

not to win a ticket to heaven.

-Set me down please, Davey.

-l'm not gonna let you die.

-No, it's too late.

-You're gonna be all right.

No, please.

Just here, against the tree.

You could cast a line. . .

. . .into a pool of water

under the trees, sidearm.

Maybe just a foot of clearance

between the branches and the water.

Eleven years old.

The newspaper people came out

to take your picture.

They couldn't believe it either.

You had a dog.

A black lab named Elvis.

That's true. l had forgotten that.

Everything, your childhood,

is in a house on 71 st Street.

Treadstone, third floor, your room. . . .

All the answers are there. Everything.

-The hospital, you've gotta make it.

-No, no. Please.

l want to die holding onto the grass.

-Get Carlos, Davey.

-l will. l will.

Forgive me.

My name is David Webb.

David.

lt was a trap.

They were convinced l'd sold out.

-Why did they try to kill you?

-They think l killed everybody. . .

-. . .at their headquarters.

-But you were here.

-They won't listen.

-Even David Abbott? Wasn't he there?

-They killed him.

-Oh, God.

Carlos engineered this. He has

us isolated. Nobody will believe us.

Our only chance is to bring Carlos in.

-How?

-l've gotta get to Villiers.

His wife is our last chance,

our last connection to Carlos.

Oh, my God.

What have you done?

She admitted it, my wife.

What you suggested. She was his whore.

l had no choice.

She's destroyed my son,

my name, my honor.

My life has been service to France.

-She made of it a mockery.

-Now you're going to kill yourself?

When l am dead there will be no one

to question, no proof.

Only the whisper

of killers and thieves.

So Carlos kills you too, without using

a round of ammunition. Beautiful!

Whatever you want me to do,

the answer is no.

So Carlos wins. Angelique wins.

You lose.

Your name. Your reputation.

Your life. Your son. Everything!

lt's easier to take a gun

and blow your head off.

-Yes. Yes, it is.

-l won't ask you to fight. Not fight.

Just the two of us against everybody!

-No, l can't!

-l know. l know.

So lie down on the bed next

to your whore, general, and die.

You're no match for Carlos.

You self-pitying old man.

l've killed many men in my life.

Many men.

Good idea. Kill me too.

Then Carlos sweeps the board.

Go on, fire. Kill me.

Take your orders from Carlos, soldier.

Kill me, soldier!

What do you want me to do?

Get diplomatic clearance for Marie

and me, this morning to New York.

We'll force Carlos to come after me.

lt's the only way any of us

are gonna survive.

Carlos himself? How?

Put her in a car and wait.

They'll find her, and when they do,

they'll take her to Carlos.

And Carlos will come to Treadstone

to kill you.

Your attention, please. Flight 434

from Paris now arriving at Gate 1 4.

-What is the meaning of this?

-All right. l'm Senator Crawford.

We've learned that Bourne arrived

in New York a few hours ago.

You know he's involved

in several murders. Now where is he?

He's trying to bring in Carlos

if you don't kill him first.

-Do something right and help him.

-Help him?

Will you listen to me?!

He's not an assassin.

-He's not.

-Let's find someplace to talk.

-Mister, what number?

-Keep going to the corner.

Muller's Moving, Schumach speaking.

My name's Johnson.

l have a little problem.

-What is it?

-l was on my way to a friend's house. . .

. . .a friend who passed away,

to get something l'd lent him.

When l got there one of your vans

was parked in front of the house.

-The item is of no value.

-What is it?

A fishing rod. Not an expensive one. . .

. . .but with an old casting reel

that doesn't get tangled up.

Yeah, they don 't make reels

like they used to.

-l know exactly where he kept it.

-Yeah, what the hell.

See a guy named Dugan.

Tell him l said you could have it.

-Mr. Dugan. Thank you.

-lf he gives you any static, call me.

Yes, indeed.

Why not let Bourne come to me?

Let me stand on the corner.

That would give Carlos two targets.

l can't permit it.

-Hey, where's Dugan at?

-Upstairs sitting in his chair.

He don't lift nothing heavier

than his clipboard.

-Schumach said you needed another man.

-You from Shape-Up?

Yeah.

This isn't gonna work.

l see parts of him in everybody.

-What do you see?

-l don't know. l can't be sure.

-Let me out of this car.

-l can't.

Let me go.

You could cast a line...

...into a pool of water

under the trees, sidearm.

Read, Davey, read. Everything you can

get your hands on, especially history.

Oh, Davey, what a lovely present.

Let's put it on the mantel

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