Read Online The Aquitaine Progression by Robert Ludlum - Free Book Online Page A

his clothes, reaching across his chest and up and down his legs. “What are you
doing?
” he cried, spitting the cigarette out of his mouth involuntarily.
    “You don’t have a weapon,” said the voice.
    “Of
course
not!”
    “I do. You may lower your arms and turn around now.”
    Converse spun, still coughing, and rubbed his watery eyes. “You crazy son of a bitch!”
    “It’s a dreadful habit, those cigarettes. I’d give them up if I were you. Outside of the terrible things they do to your body, now you see how they can be used against you in other ways.”
    Joel blinked and stared in front of him. The pontificator was a slender, white-haired old man of medium height, standing very erect in what looked like a white canvas jacket and trousers. His face—what could be seen of it in the intermittent moonlight—was deeply lined, and there was a partial smile on his lips. There was also a gun in his hand, held in a firm grip, leveled at Converse’s head. “You’re
Beale?
” asked Joel. “Dr.
Edward
Beale?”
    “Yes. Are you calmed down now?”
    “Considering the shock of your warm welcome, I guess so.”
    “Good. I’ll put this away, then.” The scholar lowered thegun and knelt down on the sand next to a canvas satchel. He shoved the weapon inside and stood up again. “I’m sorry, but I had to be certain.”
    “Of what? Whether or not I was a commando?”
    “Halliday’s dead. Could a substitute have been sent in your place? Someone to deal with an old man in Mykonos? If so, that person would most certainly have had a gun.”
    “Why?”
    “Because he would have had no idea that I
was
an old man.
I
might have been a commando.”
    “You know, it’s possible—just
possible
—that I could have had a gun. Would you have blown my goddamned head off?”
    “A respected attorney coming to the island for the first time, passing through Geneva’s airport security? Where would you get it? Whom would you know on Mykonos?”
    “Arrangements could have been made,” protested Converse with little conviction.
    “I’ve had you followed since you arrived. You went directly to the bank, then to the Kouneni hotel, where you sat in the garden and had a drink before going to your room. Outside of the taxi driver, my friend Kostas, the desk clerk, and the waiters in the garden, you spoke to no one. As long as you were Joel Converse I was safe.”
    “For a product of an ivory tower, you sound more like a hit man from Detroit.”
    “I wasn’t always in the academic world, but yes, I’ve been cautious. I think we must all be very cautious. With a George Marcus Delavane it’s the only sound strategy.”
    “Sound strategy?”
    “Approach, if you like.” Beale reached between the widely separated buttons of his jacket and withdrew a folded sheet of paper. “Here are the names,” he said, handing it to Joel. “There are five key figures in Delavane’s operation over here. One each from France, West Germany, Israel, South Africa, and England. We’ve identified four—the first four—but we can’t find the Englishman.”
    “How did you get these?”
    “Originally from notes found among Delavane’s papers by Halliday when the general was his client.”
    “That was the accident he mentioned, then? He said it was an accident that wouldn’t happen again.”
    “I don’t know what he told you, of course, but it certainly was an accident. A faulty memory on Delavane’s part, an afflictionI can personally assure you touches the aging. The general simply forgot he had a meeting with Halliday, and when Preston arrived, his secretary let him into the office so he could prepare papers for Delavane, who was expected in a half hour or so. Preston saw a file folder on the general’s desk; he knew that folder, knew it contained material he could cross-check. Without thinking twice, he sat down and began working. He found the names, and knowing Delavane’s recent itinerary in Europe and Africa, everything suddenly