@@@@@He was caught in the wash of the amber
@@@@@He was caught in the wash of the amber lights, the glowing rows a cyclorama of yellowish orangeNo matter where he stood or knelt or crouched he was in silhouetteSo he pulled out the automatic from his belt?the weapon, he reflected, given to him by Bernardine?and began slithering, snaking his way across the asphalt toward the bordering grass outside the fencedgate area The gunfire erupted again, but now they were three scattered single shots from within the terminal, where the lights had been extinguishedThey had to have come from Conklin?s gun, or possibly the clerk?s if he had a weapon; Panov did notThen who had been hit? No time! A shattering fusillade burst out of the nearest automatic rifle; it was steady, prolonged and deadly, spraying the side of the small building and the gate area Then the second automatic weapon commenced firing; from the sound it was on the opposite side of the terminal?s waiting roomMoments later there were two single shots, the last one accompanied by a scream again on the other side of the building ?I?ve been hit!? The voice was the cry of a man in pain on the other side of the buildingThe automatic rifle! Jason slowly rose to a low crouch in the grass and peered into the darknessA fragment of blacker darkness movedHe raised his automatic and fired into the moving mass, getting to his feet and racing across the gate area, turning and squeezing the trigger until he was both out of bullets and out of sight on the east side of the building, where the runway ended and the amber lights stoppedHe crawled cautiously to the section of the waist-high fence that paralleled the corner of the small terminalThe grayish-white gravel of the parking area was a gratifying sight; he was able to make out the figure of a man writhing on the stonesThe figure gripped a weapon in his hands, then pushing it into the gravel, raised himself to a half-sitting position ?Cugino!? he screamed?Help me!? His answer was another burst of gunfire from the west side of the building, diagonally to the right of the wounded man?Holy Christ!? he shrieked?I?m hit bad!? Again the reply was yet another fusillade from the automatic rifle, these rounds simultaneous with crashing glassThe killer on the west side of the building had smashed the windows and was blowing apart everything inside Bourne dropped the useless automatic and grabbed the top of the fence, vaulting over it, his left leg landing in agony on the groundWhat?s happened to me? Why do I hurt? Goddamn it! He limped to the wood-framed corner of the building and edged his face to the open space beyoNo comments:
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