He heard words coming out of his mouth in foreign languages. He heard explosions that made him cover his ears. He could only read the year of their deaths. He saw a grave at his feet, blue marble, with two names that were blurred by a kind of fog. He saw children lined up in formation, a dozen boys in gray uniforms being scolded by a stern old man who marked all of their demerits on a clipboard. Jason didn’t know if he was remembering or dreaming.īits and pieces of a life buzzed through his head like the clickety-clack of film in an old projector. In the following passage, Jason Bourne, wounded and stranded, struggles to recover his memories from an intelligence operation gone wrong and mourns a great loss. The following is an exclusive excerpt from Robert Ludlum's The Bourne Evolution, by Brian Freeman.
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