The dark alley was calm, a stretch of quiet in a city where calm was scarce. Some people found it, and when they did they shivered and ran back to their hustle and bustle and tick-tock lives. Nikolai stood here, watching the rain fall on the street and get whisked away into endless drains. He should be running. He knew they probably were. Running and driving and shouting commands into walkie-talkies and pulling out long and cruel black bullet spewing implements of death. They wanted to kill him. Kill him because he knew. The program had collapsed after Bourne went to the media. Collapsed in on itself like an old and tired house of cards. There was still time though, time enough for one last cross-country romp to silence the remaining agents, and with them their training. No more would these silent reapers stalk the earth as mortals, harvesting their targets as wheat to the scythe upon order of the all-mighty Central Intelligence Agency. Now they were dinosaurs, staring into the face of a meteor and wondering what the fuck they were going to do about it. All the others were dead or dying. Nikolai was the last one alive in the big apple, and the situation around the world was much the same. Some would survive, but not many. His ears pricked up at the sound of squealing tires all around him. Time was running out.
Even as fast footsteps made their way to the alley, Nikolai pushed open the back door to the apartment complex and stepped into the elevator. A mother was standing inside, holding her groceries in her arms. He smiled at her and hit the top floor button. After a few awkward moments of silence, the fire alarm sounded and the elevator stopped, six floors short of the roof. Nikolai let out a sigh, they were clever bastards. The woman looked a little panicked.
"How are we going to get out of here?"
He did not have time for answers. The top panel of the elevator opened up easily enough and he hoisted his lean frame through it, closing it after him despite the woman's protests. Seconds later he heard the doors open and heavy footfalls echoed through the elevator shaft.
"Shit. Must have taken the stairs, lets go, lock everything down."
The grocery woman's voice sounded plaintively
"Hey what's going on?"
Silently as he could Nikolai shimmied up the huge cable that held the elevator and pried open the doors to the next floor a crack. No one. He pulled himself through and began sprinting down the corridor past huge glass windows, looking for the stairs. He stopped and stared out of it. Why was he running? Death was near, and he more than anyone in the whole world knew it's icy breath. A cold circle pressed into the back of his neck. Only one person could have snuck up on him like that. He smiled, the irony was almost overpowering.
"Jacob."
"Nikolai."
"They send an agent to kill an agent. Naturally. I guess putting down the gun and running away with me is not an option?"
"Nope. I was promised immunity in exchange for your life."
Nikolai turned to face his assailant, who continued to point the pistol at him.
"Do you really think they will spare you? You are an asset to them. A piece of hardware. They will toss you aside like a fucking rag."
"It's a chance I'm willing to take."
"You were always clueless and gullible, it made you a poor agent and a terrible human being."
"Sticks and stones."
Slowly Nikolai turned to face the glass window, and the massive metropolis of New York stretched out before him, a wet black chasm that he would dive into. One last time.
"So the reapers fall to their own scythe."
Nikolai closed his eyes and whispered
"Do it."
Jacob's finger pulled the trigger, and the hammer fell in monumentally slow increments towards the back of the bullet. The powder ignited and sent the nine millimeter slug rocketing out of the barrel, pushing air out of its way, and hit Nikolai straight in the gut. Blood spattered the floor beside him and he fell to his knees, clutching his stomach. The agent towered over him and fired, again and again and again. The last thing Nikolai saw before bullets ripped away his world forever was his own blood.
Jacob stared at the corpse for a long while, considering the man's last words. behind him the elevator bell rang and CIA operatives piled out, pistols aiming.
"Good job, that's one less lose end."
Through the small crowd of agents stepped the station chief for New York.
"Excellent work Jacob. Your services are no longer needed, you are free to go."
A smile of relief spread across his face and he turned to shake the chief's hand
"Thank you, it's been a pleasu-"
The shots rang out one after another and Jacob tried to scream but managed only a slight gurgle as collapsed and fell back across the body of his comrade. One of the agents returned his pistol to its holster.
"Alright, lets go, nothing more to see here."
Silently the group stepped back into the elevator. In the hall and ever widening pool of blood soaked into the starchy blue carpet.