Chapter 44 Chapter Forty-Two

In the aftermath of the detonation of the C4 explosives, Saraja uses the power of her CIA credentials.The surrounding heavy and sturdy government buildings were only damaged superficially, and they did not suffer any structural damage.But the scene on the street was one of disaster.A huge crater had been blasted in the middle of the road, and the charred remains of the limo fell into it like a flaming meteorite.The only consolation is that at this time of night, there were no pedestrians in the area near the explosion. Dozens of police cars, fire trucks, ambulances, and personnel from various emergency response departments and maintenance departments flocked to the scene, and a cordon was set up around the scene.Electricity was cut off for a radius of two and a half kilometers, and water was cut off in the vicinity of the explosion because the main water main had been blown.

Saraia and Tyrone reported the situation to the police, but she saw that Rob Butt and Security Director Bill Hunter had rushed to the scene to take over the situation.Bart, who was talking to the police captain who usually scouts the scene, nodded when he saw her, telling her to stay where she was. "This set of serious ghosts makes me feel flustered, just like a priest with moxibustion," Tyrone said. Saraha smiled. "Don't worry. I'm here with you." Talon snorted dismissively, but she noticed that he was still at her side.The workers around were moving the equipment and yelling at each other. Cars pulled over one after another. They seemed to be shrouded in a web of voices.

A news agency helicopter circled overhead, and soon another came.With a thunderous bang, several armed Air Force jet fighters flew over the scene, then flapped their wings and disappeared into the clear night sky. On the morning Bourne arrived at the gates of Cloister Park, New York City was shrouded in a thick fog.Holding the bronze urn containing the ashes of Martin Lindros to his chest, he entered the gate.He had delivered twelve roses to Moira's house, only to find out later when he got a call from her that this was Martin and Moira's agreed silent farewell. He had never met Moira.Martin mentioned her only once, on a day when he and Bourne were both very drunk.

Bourne saw her now: a slim, shapely figure in the mist, with a few strands of black hair strewn about her cheeks.She stood where she had agreed with him, the pruned branches of the tree behind her climbing up the stone wall of a house.She had been on a business trip abroad some time ago; she said she had just been home a few hours when she got a call from Byrne.It seemed that she had been crying quietly by herself. With no tears in her eyes, she nodded to Bourne, and the two walked together to the low stone wall at the south end.Below them is a forest.Far to the right, he could see the calm waters of the Hudson.The slowly flowing river was dusty, looking like a piece of snake skin that was about to shed.

“We know him in different ways.” Moira said this carefully, as if afraid of revealing too much of the past she and Martin had shared. "Nobody knew him better than we did," Byrne said. The skin around her eyes was puffy and bubbly, obviously from the last few days of crying.Her face was strong, with well-defined features, and her bright, dark brown eyes were set wide apart.There was an uncommon serenity about Moira, and she seemed a contented woman.She and Martin would have been a good fit, Bourne thought. He lifted the lid of the urn to reveal a plastic bag full of ashes, remnants of life.Moira stretched out his slender fingers to open the bag, and together with Bourne lifted the urn to the top of the low wall and tilted it over, watching the gray powder drift down and merge with the mist.

Moira stared at the blurry shapes that drifted away below the two of them. "We all loved him, and that's all that matters." Bourne felt that this sentence was the most appropriate eulogy.It brought some kind of peace to all three of them.