Chapter 2

Pamela Landy had gone into the Beauty Before Bills day spa figuring that she would either meet Bourne or Nicky inside, which was the furthest thing from the truth. She had been made to endure the 'Full Monty' at the beautician's insistence. She said Nicky had been very explicit about her going through the entire gambit of services. She had been poked, prodded, waxed, scrubbed, and 'massaged' (tenderized) for almost three hours. When she was done she wasn't sure which she felt more like: a Treadstone asset being initiated or the hull of a garbage scow after it had been sandblasted and covered in resin.

Only when she was finished with the massage did they give her a sealed envelope. It contained a letter that read: 'Change clothes into what the girl gives you, leave everything else in the bag. Give your bag of old clothing to the girl. Leave and walk south.' The girl took her phone and the bag of her old clothes and set it next to a voice recorder playing a recording of a massage from earlier in the day. They thought she was bugged?

She stepped out into the night and the girl- Betty whispered, "You have a very kind Master. I hope you both have a nice Christmas… She's cute too, God this is romantic…" She turned abruptly at the awkwardness that she created and walked north.

'Master?' she shook her head, Nicky had to tell them something. What else could have explained such odd behavior? They were CIA agents that had burn notices on them and are ordered to be shot on site? At least she knew it was Nicky and not Bourne she was meeting. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse, probably worse.

How long was she supposed to walk? Apparently until her feet froze off. At least they had gotten her hiking style clothes, even if they were all black. If she were still wearing her normal clothes she might have lost her feet from frostbite. She had been walking and half stumbling on wobbly legs for over an hour. It was snowing heavily and the temperature sign on the nearby bank said it was fifteen degrees below but it may as well have been fifty below.

An hour ago she had passed a street vendor selling hot pretzels and coco. She was glad now that she had purchased one of each, but the heat afforded by them was long gone. Now it was coming up on eight o'clock and the streets were clearing out, everyone was going to be with loved ones.

She saw activity ahead and laughed inwardly, knowing what it was. 'Music' and laughter were issuing out of a bar located in the basement of one of the buildings. It was a punk bar in the late 70's and apparently still was; if the patrons that were leaving were any indication. Most people would see the three girls coming towards her as prime examples of the decline of our times. Landy had seen a punk band there in '74, so the decline started over three decades ago and these three ladies were new to the party. When she had met the band back stage she had no idea that the Ramones would become Rock Icons.

She laughed at how square she must look to those girls; if they only knew... The three had tattoos all over their arms, a dozen piercings in their ears and a few more on their faces. All were scantily clad in cut off jeans or short skirts with ripped up hose and corsets for shirts. Two were wearing sunglasses straight out of the eighties and the other had on black lipstick and enough mascara to outfit a bus load of teenage girls. The two with glasses had hair, one was eights glam and the other a tall green Mohawk, the one with the mascara was bald and Pam was distracted by the steam jetting off of her exposed scalp. She would lay down money on all three of them dying of exposure before reaching the subway.

The bald girl was recounting a story to the other two and bumped into Pam as she passed, "Watch it grandma!"

Pam half turned with her Glock drawn stupidly thinking she was being attacked, before silent slipping the gun back and continuing onward. Her gun had been in her hand the whole trip in her ungloved right hand. She looked back again, but the three kept walking. She could count on one hand the number times the gun had been drawn the past year, but now it had been in her hand for an hour and she was deriving more heat from its Pachmayr grips than her clothing.

Another sixty seconds went by and Pam heard a cell phone ring. Knowing that she didn't have one she whipped around with her gun out while simultaneity ducking. She saw… nothing; nothing at all. It rang again and she realized that it was coming from her left pocket. She put the gun back and answered the phone, "Hello?"

A snarky female voice replied, "Nice draw Grandma. Go around the block and then into the bar."

Pam heard her pull the phone away to hang up and blurted, "They won't let me in there!"

"They can and they will, go to the front- you're on 'the list'. Remember to smile and wave…" and the line disconnected.

"Great… I swear this is feeling like Candid Camera. I'm beginning to think that girl hates me!"

She went to the front of the long line and nodded to the doorman who immediately lifted the rope and extend his hand. She took his hand and he walked her down three treacherous steps and opened a door to a stairwell that only went down. "I have always been a huge fan ma'am. For you- the drinks are on the house, anything you want!"

She nodded curtly at being treated like a queen by someone that looked like he slept in a cell last night. She walked down the stairs and into the club and didn't have to wonder long what Parsons had told them. A spot light trained on her and the singer on stage announced, "Oi! To help us celebrate our thirtieth Christmas- Ms. Deborah Harry!"

The crowd of now friendly miscreants was very polite and cleared a path and approached one or two at a time at most to shake her hand, but Pam refused to pose for pictures. Figuring that she was supposed to order a drink, she started working her way to the main bar when suddenly she felt an iron like grip on her forearm as she was half lifted and half pushed through the crowd.

As Pam craned her neck to look behind her she expected to see Bourne but got Parsons; her heart sank. Her odds of getting out of this alive were falling through the floor. "Move, keep walking to the rear…" Pam had figured Nicky had been the bald girl that bumped into her, she was wrong. Nicky had been the girl with the Mohawk, which was green and standing at attention.

Bourne laughed at Nicky and instructed, "Don't ask her… just move her, it's not unlike driving a car. I thought you would've mastered this by now…" he joked. Landy watched as Nicky pulled off her mirrored aviator glasses and let them drop to the ground.

She steered them to the rear fire door and Nicky pointed to a chair, "Sit… stay!" Without waiting to see if Landy would listen, Nicky made her way back through the crowd and stood next to a pedestal that a bouncer was standing on. She saw the bouncer give Nicky a thumb up motion as he surveyed the crowd.

Nicky stripped her cut up jean jacket off and threw it in the trash, leaving her in a black fishnet top and white bra which glowed in the black light. She pulled off her fake piercings and Pam saw her reach up and roll down what looked like nude pantyhose from her arms which had been emblazoned with fake tattoos.

Something clicked and Landy suddenly understood why Nicky brought her here, no one would be able to come in here without being easily spotted. No-one could snap their fingers and look like they belonged here. Just as she thought that this was the best possible place to meet and not be overheard or watched, Nicky returned looking completely different than before. Sans piercings and tattoos, plus with her Mohawk tucked under a beret, she looked half way normal.

"Come on… Now! We're leaving." She grabbed Landy by the forearm and turned her.

"You can ask me to move Nicky."

"The problem is I might not have time to ask when it really matters…"

"Oh," she mumbled numbly.

"I want you to get the door, but keep your head down and get in the limo…" Nicky popped an umbrella open, to which Landy nodded. "Not you, them…." Nicky pointed to two girls who had walked up behind her, Landy recognized them as the two girls from the street only now they were in clothes that matched hers and Nicky's.

The two twenty-something year olds nodded happily. "Like… this is SO awesome. It's nice meeting you Ms. Harry!" "My memaw isn't going to believe this!" the second girl gushed as she shook Pam's hand. Nicky motioned them out the door but made sure they weren't visible from the ally. She saw the two girls climb into the Limo waiting in the alley and Nicky saw it speed away as instructed.

"Come on…" Pam felt herself being yanked again and was led through a different fire door, this one went upstairs. They passed two men that were making out in the stairwell, both of which smirked at the two women, who had their hands on their weapons. Nicky took her up six flights to the apartment portion of the building that was above this.

Nicky opened the fire door, having once again tampered with it during her preparation. She walked quickly down the apartment hallway, her eyes scanning everything for any changes as Jason whispered in her ear unnecessarily, "Everything is clean. All of your markers are in place; no one has been in or out, hurry!"

Nicky rushed to a door at the end of the hall and opened it, ushering Pam in. "Don't turn on the lights." The apartment was dimly lit by lights on the Christmas tree.

"Nice place," Pam said out of habit.

"I thought so…"

"…and the owners are…" she asked suspiciously.

"Decomposing in the basement," Nicky spit acerbically. "Sorry, it's been a long week. As far as I can tell they are in Florida seeing their parents. We should be fine here for awhile. We both need to sleep and the closest thing I've seen to a shower in the past week has been the handicap stalls in airports and bus stations."

"How do you know them?"

"I don't. The mail box is an antique; it has glass so you can see the mail. Theirs was full," she pointed to a pile of mail by the door.

"You honestly expect me to be able to sleep?" Pam offered halfheartedly, in truth she was really tired.

"Yes, you should eat and sleep as much as you can. There is no telling when you'll get another chance. Mind if I get the shower first?" Nicky asked but started to leave without waiting for a response.

"No, go ahead. I'll check the kitchen…"

"Lights out, no TV…"

"Yes, mom…" Pam said waspishly after Nicky closed the bedroom door. Pam went to the kitchen but found the refrigerator empty and cabinets were almost as bad. She heard the shower start and wondered silently about her failure to mention Bourne. It would have been cruel to ask her before they were someplace safe. Since Nicky hadn't asked Pam for news, that meant that she knew his fate already.

Leaving the kitchen she noticed a flashing light on the desk, it was from a charging light on a laptop. Jason saw Pam glance at the door, "Yeah Pam, like she left it unlocked- the laptop or the door. Seriously…" She walked over and opened the computer and saw the log on prompt.

She turned to leave and nearly tripped over Nicky's backpack. She sat quickly in the desk chair and dug through the pack. "You're wasting your time in there…" he sighed. The only oddities she found were the photograph and a water bra. All of her passports, weapons, and electronic equipment had been either on her or in her laptop bag which wasn't in plain view.

"I don't think it's your size, you're a 38C…" Nicky said in such a stinging tone that Pam dropped the undergarment she was still holding. Nicky was standing in the doorway fuming, still dripping wet and clutching a robe around her. She had forgotten to take her clothes with her.

"I'm sorry I was…" Pam muttered while gawking at her now completely bald head.

"Just rooting through my things? God..." she strode forward and snatched her things before storming off. Bourne and Landy stared at the wet puddles of her footprints she had left in her wake.

"Well no one saw that one coming nosey Nelly. What kind of spy are you anyway? You can't even listen for a shower turning off."

Nicky was gone for an uncomfortably long period of time, to the point that Jason went to check on her without meaning to; he materialized next to her as she was putting makeup on. He was transfixed on her reflection in the circular pattern she wiped in the mirrors condensation. Suddenly her mouth was agape and he realized she was looking at his mist covered reflection; she spun in shock and fear, to see no one standing there. Turning to the mirror again, she wiped away a large swath and saw a green robe hanging in the background.

She sighed, "You're coming apart at the seams… Hold it together girl."

"Nicky! I'm here! Hey!" he bellowed. He suddenly felt dizzy, as if he was going to faint. He felt the world swirling around him and fading to black. "No! I'm not ready! Not yet, I need more time!" The more he fought to stay the faster it went as though he were trapped in spiritual quicksand until at last there was nothing left of Jason Bourne and Nicky Parsons shuddered from a sudden chill.

After dressing in day clothes including sneakers, she flung open the door and began to rant, "I'm going to help you get papers tomorrow and then you're on your own…" but the apartment was eerily quiet. Nicky pulled out her gun, although she knew if it was an asset she would be dead already. "Pam," she tried harmlessly as she had already given herself away. After sweeping the apartment and finding it vacant, she stood for a moment wonder what to do as if she were going to be inspired. She remembered what Jason had told her in Spain at the bus station, 'if something feels wrong: it is. Get out! Move on and don't look back. Are you listening to me?'

She stuffed her gun in its holster and quickly grabbed her laptop and her two bags and rushed to the bedroom and opened the bedroom window she had staged as her exit plan. She had one foot on the fire escape when she heard Pam's cautious voice, "Nicky?"

Hesitating in the window for a moment she bit her lip before climbing back in and drawing her weapon. She moved cat footedly though the apartment and heard rustling from the kitchen. She swept the rooms as she went and as she approached the kitchen Pam rounded the corner, "Nicky…" and stopped short as she saw the gun less than a foot from her face, which wasn't lowered.

"Where were you?"

"I was getting dinner," she snipped.

"You left?"

"No, delivery and I had them deliver to apartment 2A and then went down stairs to wait. Are you going to lower the gun or are you going to shoot me?"
Nicky held her ground and didn't know why. She was unsure of what to do and knew that Jason would know. Something caught her nose and finally she slowly lowered the gun, still wary of the woman whom had drug her back into all of this. She sniffed again, "Chinese?"

"Yeah, I ordered a bunch of things; I wasn't sure what you liked."

"Don't ever do anything like that again. I risked a lot by trying to help you."

"Is that what this is? I wasn't sure what your deal was."
"Whistle blowers usually end up dead. Here, look for yourself…" She walked to her computer and typed in a log password. Pam saw a split second of a map of New York before she brought up Landy's file, but it was different from the one Pam could normally bring up.

"Are those links to surveillance logs?"

"Yeah, they've been casing you since before you kidnapped me in Amsterdam."

"I didn't kidnap you."

"Sure you did." She intoned in her best Italian accent, "'Just when I thought I was out, you pulled me back in!' But, it's too late to argue the point; I am the walking dead and so are you." She pointed to a star icon with MM next to it.

"What is that?"
"The star is a kill order. The MM denotes that it's to look like a suicide. Let's see who they sent after you…"

"MM? Is that for Marilyn Monroe? That's what the gossip rags use to shorten her name to."

"Hmm… I didn't know that… probably. Ah, here… Paz Carrasco. He is Chilean but was implanted in the Czech Republic and worked the Eastern Bloc." She started sifting through his file.

"He's cute…" Landy laughed in a rare display of humor. But, Nicky heard the wavering in her voice and knew she was near a breaking point of hysteria. Pam had more iron in her that Vladimir Lenin but everyone had a tipping point.

"They are all very attractive; the men and the woman. One of the many job perks I had… lots of eye candy. Paz fancies himself as a better lover, than a fighter. He doesn't like killing women or kids though. Most don't care, they are trained not to. His handler didn't have an option, Paz was in New York already; he was after Bourne."

"Kids?" Landy sounded aghast. "Why would they order a child to be killed?"

"…for lots of different reasons. Let's say Albert Einstein is locked up in a bunker below a mountain in Iran and you can't get to him…"

"So, then they kill him at the funeral?"

"No. Sometimes he might kill himself though, but at the very least his work will suffer for months. It will slow down the project or possibly ruin it if he makes too many mistakes. They call it division by subtraction."

"Jesus…"

"Yeah, they aren't above anything." She paused suddenly, "Please tell me you didn't call anyone…"

Pam reared her head back, "No. I'm not a fool Nicky." They both heard Nicky's stomach grumble noisily in protest of being denied the Chinese food; its aroma was now permeating the room. "Come on. Let's eat before someone thinks the building is haunted."

The two women ate in silence and Nicky had third helpings. She saw the picture of her and Bourne on the desk where Pam had left it after she was caught snooping. Crossing the room, she collected it and looked at it briefly before stuffing it resolutely into her bag.

"Nicky, I'm sorry for insinuating in Amsterdam that you had a thing with Bourne. As a professional woman, I know what comments like that are like and it was inappropriate."

Nicky smiled faintly, "Well you were right. There was something more there." She laughed hollowly, "He could always make me laugh, even when nothing else could," she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear before she remembered she was bald. "I need to go out for a bit. Stay here and stay quiet. I should be back by 3 AM. If I'm not back by six then open this and get the hell out of here. Do whatever it says," she handed Pam a thick envelope. "Don't open it before then. Got it?"

"Yeah, where are you going?"

Nicky needlessly checked her weapon magazine and made sure there was a round chambered. "To see an old friend…"