Sorry for the wait. Coursework is unforgiving.


"...we take the moral excrement that we find in this equation and we bury it down deep inside of us so that the rest of our cause can stay pure."

-Byer, Bourne Legacy

When was the last time results like this had been close to being reached? Aside from… no. Does everything have to be compared to Bourne?

She sorted through the LARX files—where everything was perfect. All the results that couldn't be achieved through Treadstone or Outcome. Useless smart agents. Too many emotional inconsistencies, moral questioning…

Landy stopped when the coronary reports fell out of file three. Several bullet wounds, internal injuries and LARX 3 had still pursued his target.

Incredible. We need to duplicate that.

For the most part, none of the LARX candidates had been exceptional to begin with—and she'd thought some of the Outcome agents had been bottom-of-the-pile—. It had been the conditioning, the training, so Landy could only wonder how a partial conversion would result. What happens when you take an already exceptional subject and enhance him? Would the results be matched or exceeded?

She opened the Outcome files one by one, carelessly shoving aside the files for the dead agents. Five. Pity. Outcome Two had recently been located so she was out too. That left three. And the LARX programming only allowed for the best. They'd bring in the three remainders anyway—why not try them all? If they died, they died.

Outcome Five was listed high priority. At this point they were all tired of the trouble he caused them, but even Landy had to admit that his qualities were what was needed.

"I thought the point was to shut the programs down, not to make more."

She closed the file, fixing Parsons with a cold stare. "We're making progress with this. Do you expect us to drop years' worth of work and financial investment for a couple rogue agents? Maybe you should check to be sure you're in the right building. Yes, I know where you stand on this."

"You know it isn't right. You can't call it off, kill a handful of people and call it a closed situation."

"There isn't an easy solution. Only good and better ones."

"You killed five outcome agents." Parsons waved a hand at the files. "Five people"

Landy made a mental note to look at Parsons' file the first chance she had. At the least, she could…

"How can you think that's right?"

She folded her hands over the files, keeping her voice neutral. "Look at it from a company standpoint—we poured millions of dollars into these agents. Chems, routine exams, all the research that went into studying those results, their training, basic upkeep…" she watched Parsons' expression harden at 'upkeep' "when we don't get results, it's no different than breaking a rusted link off the chain. They stop being useful? We can replace them. We modified them, we control them. Some of them wouldn't be called human anymore."

"Take away their humanity and call them yours." She all but spat out the words.

"Remember whom you're working for—you walk out…" this time Landy made no effort to hide her distain for her coworker "…and I'll personally make sure you have nothing but minimum wage jobs for the rest of your life."

"In other words, I stay here and stand alongside you as we soak our hands in blood together."

"You'd stay in the end. All those precious morals of yours wouldn't stand up to a high-paying job."

Parsons leaned over the desk, staring Landy in the eyes. "You can't promise me more agents won't die."

"Of course I can't. Just as you can't tell me where to find Jason Bourne if you knew how." Landy sat back, allowing a smile to play on her face. "If you did, you'd be required to tell us. He's no more your ally than ours."

Parsons stared her down for another several seconds before pulling away. "You're right…I don't know where he is." Without another word, she continued to her office.

Thoughtfully, Landy watched after her for a brief moment. She made to call one of the assistants to retrieve Parsons file, but slowly laid the phone back down.

This was something better done by herself.


She'd never had to wonder about before; only the now mattered. The orders.

"Location?"

"New York"

She mentally calculated that it would be about seven hundred dollars and two hours to get there. "Is this another target?" she hadn't been given targets for a week—she'd thought they'd forgotten. Contacting them wasn't usually an option. It was for them to tell her.

"We're sending you a couple files. Read and memorize the details. Forward us your travel plans and time of arrival."

They hung up before her confirmation. They didn't need it; they never needed to hear her say she'd do it.

Every order given was meant to be followed. Immediately. No questions.

She went to her email and saw the files waiting for her.

Cain

Outcome Five

Both were labeled high priority. Agents designations. Her new targets were other agents. Lesser agents, she reminded herself. As she ran through the details, she couldn't explain why Five—Aaron Cross—sounded familiar, but she knew Bourne.

She was trained to take him down.