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Back The Janson Directive
Chapters (54)
  1. Title Page
  2. Table of Contents
  3. Prologue
  4. PART ONE
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. PART TWO
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. PART THREE
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-one
  28. Chapter Twenty-two
  29. Chapter Twenty-three
  30. Chapter Twenty-four
  31. Chapter Twenty-five
  32. Chapter Twenty-six
  33. Chapter Twenty-seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-one
  38. PART FOUR
  39. Chapter Thirty-two
  40. Chapter Thirty-three
  41. Chapter Thirty-four
  42. Chapter Thirty-five
  43. Chapter Thirty-six
  44. Chapter Thirty-seven
  45. Chapter Thirty-eight
  46. Chapter Thirty-nine
  47. Chapter Forty
  48. Chapter Forty-one
  49. Chapter Forty-two
  50. Chapter Forty-three
  51. Epilogue
  52. ALSO BY ROBERT LUDLUM
  53. Critical Praise for Robert Ludlum
  54. Copyright Page

“And how is the great man?” There was a catch in his voice as he asked.

“Always the same,” she replied, after a pause. “Thank you for asking, Dr. Kubelik.” Her gaze was almost playful—verging, he could have sworn, on the flirtatious. No doubt this was simply the way that certain women were trained to make conversation with international eminences.

Janson nodded. “As we Czechs like to say, ‘To be the same is better than to be worse.’ A certain peasant realism there, I think.”

“Come,” she said. “I’ll take you upstairs to the conference room.”

The second floor was less palatial, more intimate; the ceilings were ten feet high, not fifteen, and the decor was much less fustian. The conference room faced the canal, and the late-morning sun slanted through a multipaned picture window, casting golden parallelograms on the polished long teak table. As Janson entered, he was greeted by a man of slightly less than average height with neatly combed gray hair.

“I’m Dr. Tilsen,” the man said. “My in-house title is executive director for Europe. A bit misleading, no?” He laughed a tidy, dry laugh. “Our Europe program— that would be more accurate.”

“You’ll be safe with Dr. Tilsen,” Susanna Novak said. “A lot safer with him than with me,” she added, leaving it up to her visitor whether to read a double entendre in her remark.

Janson sat down opposite the pale-faced administrator. What to discuss with him?

“I expect you know why I wanted to make contact with you,” he began.

“Well, I think so,” Dr. Tilsen said. “Over the years, the Czech government has been very supportive of some of our efforts, and less so of others. We understand that our objectives will not always mesh with those of any particular government.”

“Quite so,” Janson said. “Quite so. But I have begun to wonder whether my predecessors have been too hasty in their judgments. Perhaps a more harmonious relationship might be possible.”

“That would be most pleasing to contemplate,” Dr. Tilsen said.

“Of course, if you provide me with a tour d’horizon of your projects in our country, I would be able to make the case more effectively with my colleagues and associates. Really, I’m here to listen.”