Simon Ross' point of view. Word: Ghost.
He walked through the station, terrified, noticing ghosts of threats everywhere—eyes watching his movements, footsteps following half a step behind. Bourne's voice reassured, told him he was on a good track. Keep going.
But: A janitor approached, stared at him with baleful eyes, reached for something—a gun?—on his cart.
Bourne yelled at him urgently, but the words did not make sense, did not connect in his head. He was no seasoned, trained assassin; he doubted he could even defend himself in a fight, if it came to that.
He could not help it.
He bolted.