The Bourne Identity

Book Jacket

Series:
Jason Bourne [1]

Rating:

Tags:
Fiction - Espionage, Thriller, Espionage, Intrigue

EDITORIAL REVIEW:

Jason Bourne.

He has no past. And he may have no future. His memory is blank. He only knows that he was flushed out of the Mediterranean Sea, his body riddled with bullets.

There are a few clues. A frame of microfilm surgically implanted beneath the flesh of his hip. Evidence that plastic surgery has altered his face. Strange things that he says in his delirium -- maybe code words. Initial: "J.B." And a number on the film negative that leads to a Swiss bank account, a fortune of four million dollars, and, at last, a name: Jason Bourne.

But now he is marked for death, caught in a maddening puzzle, racing for survival through the deep layers of his buried past into a bizarre world of murderous conspirators -- led by Carlos, the world's most dangerous assassin. And no one can help Jason Bourne but the woman who once wanted to escape him.

"Mr. Ludlum stuffs more surprises into his novels than any other six-pack of thriller writers combines." -- *The New York Times*

LUDLUM

THE UNSURPASSED MASTER

IN BANTAM HARDCOVER

THE SCORPIO

ILLUSION

THE AMNESIAC REMEMBERS

"You appear to be a mass of contradictions," Dr. Washburn said. "There's a subsurface violence almost always in control, but very much alive. There's also a pensiveness that seems painful for you, yet you rarely give vent to the anger that pain must provoke."

"You're provoking it now," said the man.

"And we'll continue to do so, as long as there's progress."

"I wasn't aware any progress had been made."

"Not in terms of an identity or an occupation. But we are finding out what's most comfortable for you, what you deal with best. It's a little frightening."

"In what way?"

"Let me give you an example." The doctor put the clipboard down and got out of the chair. He walked to a primitive cupboard against the wall, opened a drawer, and took out a large automatic handgun. The man with no memory tensed in his chair; Washburn was aware of the reaction. "I've never used this, not sure I'd know how to, but I do live on the waterfront." He smiled, then suddenly, without warning, threw it to the man. The weapon was caught in midair, the catch clean, swift, and confident. Break it down; I believe that's the phrase."

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"What?"

"Break it down.
Now
."

The man looked at the gun. And then, in silence, his hands and fingers moved expertly over the weapon. In less than thirty seconds it was completely dismantled.

Bantam Books by Robert Ludlum

Ask your bookseller for the books you have missed

THE BOURNE IDENTITY

THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM

THE GEMINI CONTENDERS

THE ICARUS AGENDA

THE MATLOCK PAPER

THE PARSIFAL MOSAIC

THE ROAD TO GANDOLFO

THE SCARLATTI INHERITANCE

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THE

IDENTITY

ROBERT LUDLUM

NEW YORKYTORONTOYSYDNEYYAUKLAND

This edition contains the complete text

of the original hardcover edition.

NOT ONE WORD HAS BEEN OMITTED.

A Bantam Book / published by

arrangement with the author

Marek Edition published March 1980

A Selection of Literary Guild, April 1980, and

a Doubleday Book Club Selection, June 1980

Serialized inBook Digest,
Spring 1980

Bantam edition / March 1981

Acknowledgment and thanks are made for permission to reprint articles
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from:The Associated Press,
(c)1975 by The Associated Press.
The New York Times,
(c)1975 by The New York Times Company.

All rights reserved.

Copyright (c) 1980 by Robert Ludlum.

Cover artwork copyright (c)1988 by Bantam Books.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,

including photocopying, recording, or by any information

storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing

from the publisher.

For information address: Bantam Books.

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."

ISBN 0-553-26011-1

Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada.

Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words "Bantam Books" and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540

Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

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RAD 36 35 34 33 32

For Glynis

A very special light we all adore.

With our love and deep respect.

PREFACE

The New York Times

Friday, July 11, 1975

FRONT PAGE

WITH FUGITIVE TERRORIST

PARIS, July 10--France expelled three high-ranking Cuban diplomats today in connection with the worldwide search for a man called Carlos, who is believed to be an important link in an international terrorist network.

The suspect, whose real name is thought to be Ilich Ramirez Sanchez, is being sought in the killing of two French counterintelligence agents and a Lebanese informer at a Latin Quarter apartment on June 27. The three killings have led the police here and in Britain to what they feel is the trail of a major network of international terrorist agents. In the search for Carlos after the killings, French and British policemen discovered large arms caches that linked Carlos to major terrorism in West Germany and led them to suspect a connection between many terrorist acts throughout Europe.

Reported Seen in London

Since then Carlos has been reported seen in London and in Beirut, Lebanon. ...

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Associated Press

Monday, July 7, 1975

syndicated dispatch

LONDON(AP)--Guns and girls, grenades and good suits, a fat billfold, airline tickets to romantic places and nice apartments in a half dozen world capitals. This is the portrait emerging of a jet age assassin being sought in an international manhunt.

The hunt began when the man answered his doorbell in Paris and shot dead two French intelligence agents and a Lebanese informer. It has put four women into custody in two capitals, accused of offenses in his wake. The assassin himself has vanished--perhaps in Lebanon, the French police believe. In the past few days in London, those acquainted with him have described him to reporters as good looking, courteous, well educated, wealthy and fashionably dressed. But his associates are men and women who have been called the most dangerous in the world. He is said to be linked with the Japanese Red Army, the Organization for the Armed Arab Struggle, the West German Baader-Meinhof gang, the Quebec Liberation Front, the Turkish Popular Liberation Front, separatists in France and Spain, and the Provisional wing of the Irish Republican Army. When the assassin traveled--to Paris, to the Hague, to West Berlin--bombs went off; guns cracked and there were kidnappings.

A breakthrough occurred in Paris when a Lebanese terrorist broke under questioning and led two intelligence men to the assassin's door in Paris on June 27. He shot all three to death and escaped. Police found his guns and notebooks containing "death lists" of prominent people. Yesterday the London Observer said police were hunting for the son of a Venezuelan Communist lawyer for questioning in the triple slaying. Scotland Yard said, "We are not denying the report," but added there was no charge against him and he was wanted only for questioning. The Observer identified the hunted man as Ilich Ramirez Sanchez, of Caracas. It said his name was on one of the four passports found by French police when they raided the Paris apartment where the slayings took place.

The newspaper said Ilich was named after Vladimir Ilych Lenin, founder of the Soviet state, and was educated in Moscow and speaks fluent Russian.

In Caracas, a spokesman for the Venezuelan Communist Party said Ilich is the son of a 70-year-old Marxist lawyer living 450 miles west of Caracas, but "neither father nor son belong to our party."

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He told reporters he did not know where Ilich was now.

BOOK I

1

The trawler plunged into the angry swells of the dark, furious sea like an awkward animal trying desperately to break out of an impenetrable swamp. The waves rose to goliathan heights, crashing into the hull with the power of raw tonnage; the white sprays caught in the night sky cascaded downward over the deck under the force of the night wind. Everywhere there were the sounds of inanimate pain, wood straining against wood, ropes twisting, stretched to the breaking point. The animal was dying. Two abrupt explosions pierced the sounds of the sea and the wind and the vessel's pain. They came from the dimly lit cabin that rose and fell with its host body. A man lunged out of the door grasping the railing with one hand, holding his stomach with the other.