Hi everyone! I'm sorry for the delay. I've been working some crazy shift work lately and haven't had a lot of free time to write. I hope you're still interested in this story. I'm already working on chapter four and will try to have it up as soon as possible, but in the interum I have my tomato shield ready. :)

Thanks for reading.

The Bourne Convergence

Ch. 3

The wheels touched the loose dirt with a jarring thud, and Marta felt her heart leap with an equally disturbing strength. She tried to remind herself that she was a seasoned traveller with extensive aircraft experience, thanks to important studies and conferences abroad, renown lectures and top secret government protocols. She fought to remember that even though a flight could be a little rough, it was statistically the safest form of travel. However, none of that was helping as the tiny four-passenger plane bounced along a runway that was nothing more than a line of dirt in a field of long, wheat-like grass.

The force of speed was terrifying as it pushed her securely into her seat, taking all the solid facts in her brain and shaking them loose. Her nerves were stretching thin, threatening to snap as they continued to bound through pitch black night. It was moments like these that made her long for the sanctity of a money pit farmhouse in Maryland. Merely a year ago, she was a respected doctor in the complex and exciting world of ground breaking virology, technology and science. Today, now, she was a scared woman on a hurdling plane at the outskirts of Durban, South Africa.

Nothing fit the way it used to.

She glanced to her right, studying the man who has more or less become her everything in their short time together. Whether that was healthy, is something she didn't bother to put too much thought into, but he was her one constant. His blond hair was dirty from traversing the desert in record time, and his skin was stained with sweat. The lines around his eyes told a very clear story, and he needed to sleep, no doubt from racing to her rescue for the millionth time. She wished she could do something supportive for him.

Still. Selfishly she was grateful that he was here with her now.

"Easy," he encouraged, on a gruff whisper.

As if reading her mind, his strong fingers reached out to clutch her white knuckles with warmth and caring. It made her pounding heart pause for half-a-second, and then as the wheels began to slow and finally stop, it made things in her chest speed up all over again. He had an uncanny ability to think of her, even under extreme circumstances.

He was still pissed, because he has barely looked at her directly for the better part of this latest journey. He was trusting her to some degree. After the restaurant, she filled him in on the events of her previous night, and he took stock of the information with his usual air of caution. Aaron The Unflappable would be his superhero name. She knew he was trusting her because they were with Bourne, and so that hopefully meant something?

Marta sighed, refocussing on the newest super spy to grace her presence. He was standing from his seat alongside the pilot, slipping into his sharp black blazer, and shouldering a nondescript backpack that probably held the same survival essentials that Aaron had in his matching bag. He had the same cool look on his face that Cross wore whenever he was focussed. Jason stalked past in a hurry, opening up the plane so that they could continue on without preamble.

"We have some time to make up," he snapped, before hopping out of the exit and leaving them behind.

"Doc, we gotta move."

She nodded awkwardly, following the instruction on shaky legs. Then Bourne was helping her to the ground and dragging her toward a parked jeep, and the last thing she saw before it was too dark was the look of fury on Aaron's face.

"Get in."

Marta frowned, tired of being lead like a stray puppy.

This jeep ride was not any better than the last one she took. The wind was picking up along with the storm that was incoming and quickly. Her bare arms were riddled with goosebumps, and she rubbed them futily, trying to erase the whispers of cool wind. Heavy leather hit her lap with a thud, and she glanced over, just in time to see Aaron staring at her with those soft, gentle eyes that spoke more than the man himself. It didn't last long. His wall was up again, and she sighed, slipping into the coat gratefully.

He still wasn't looking at her. It bothered way more than it should.

She curled into the warm cloth that draped too long over her arms, before snapping her attention to a curious set of eyes in the rearview mirror. Jason was watching her closely as he drove. She frowned in irritation, and when he grinned in obvious amusement, her frown deepened again.

Running was becoming common place and she was starting to adapt to the sensation, but running with two arrogant super spies who seemed constantly amused by her plight...that was beginning to get on her last nerve.

The smell of the ocean got stronger as they approached the coastline, and that's when she understood why they flew here. They would be leaving by boat. It wasn't totally unappealing. Her last sailing excursion had a ton of good memories attached to it. The fisherman and his son were amazing and generous, and she and Aaron were finally able to let their guard down a little and just...be. They had been on the troller for two solid weeks, and that's the part that didn't sit well with her. It was a long time to be at sea.

She watched Jason and Aaron rush down the dock expecting her to follow, and so she did, albeit slowly. Heels and rickety carpentry didn't mix well. The water was slamming the wood pretty hard, and she didn't relish the idea of being out on a boat when this storm hit full force. She wasn't sure her stomach could take the abuse. They were arguing heatedly with a man she could only assume was the captain, but the words were in an African dialect that she couldn't place.

"Doc," Aaron shouted, staring over the railing with impatience, "try to keep up!"

Marta blinked, surprised by the tone of his voice. Even in the beginning, when they were thrown together and at odds, he never spoke quite so coldly. She stepped onto the plank and moved carefully, climbing aboard another old fishing junk that blended with the dozen other one's in this marina.

Things happened quickly and they were underway, and she leaned against the nearest wall expecting to be shoved below deck for safety. Instead, her super spies stood face to face, with a few tense feet separating them. Both were perched casually against he railing and both were watching the other in muted silence. She was missing something? They just stood there, watching, staring comfortably as the shoreline faded from view and the waves grew more choppy the farther out they got. Her heart was pounding against her nervous breast. Were they going to fight, kill one another? Were they going to do anything besides stare in some sort of weird battle of wills that she wasn't comprehending?

Fourty-five long minutes later, found them all in the same uncomfortable spot with nothing but the moon to guide them. The lights of Durban were in the distance now, lost to the blackness of the night.

"I need some sleep," Jason said at last, breaking the stone cold silence that was choking in its intensity. He glanced quickly at the doctor and smirked, and then disappeared below, leaving her more confused about what in the hell was going on?

"Come on," Aaron blurted, taking her hand and finally leading her below the way she had expected nearly an hour before.

"What was that all about?" He didn't answer. "Aaron?"

She found herself in a small room with a bunk only marginally wider than a single-sized bed. There was a table and two chairs along the far wall, a shoddy dresser with three drawers, and a door to a bathroom with a stand-alone shower and toilet. This was far more luxurious than on her last fishing junk.

He walked around the space, inspecting the bathroom before tossing his bag onto the thin mattress with a heavy thud.

Her eyes narrowed. "Well?" Nothing, just thick silence as he leaned against the lip of the table and crossed his strong arms over his chest. "Are you going to tell me why you're so mad at me?"

He frowned, looking a little sad underneath the flames. "I'm not..."

She slipped off her heels, picking them up and holding them tightly in her left hand. "Please don't start lying to me now?" That got his attention.

He took a quick breath. "I guess I'm sorry."

"For what?"

There was his anger again. "For interupting your date."

Marta blinked in surprise. Well... There you have it. At least now they were finally going to get things out into the open, instead of pretending that nothing has changed in the past year.

Her stomach clenched tightly, more afraid than when there were bullets flying past her head.

She dropped her shoes to the rough wooden floor beneath her toes. It was time to stop running.