Chapter V

Feud Resurfaced

It was just his luck that there was somebody there to kill them, now of all times. Just when he had finally completed himself, and had Nicky in his arms, the CIA was there to screw up his life again. Maybe he was destined to be hounded, because of what he'd done, or maybe it was only when he found peace and love in life. Still, he would have let her go and deal with this new threat to her. Jason Bourne found it ironic that it was likely the only thing that would've convinced him to stop. David Webb would've preferred another way.

Letting go of Nicky, he shoved her back with one hand onto the couch and with the other brought a fist down on the assassin's wrist, deflecting the knife. His whole attention was diverted to the assassin now; Jason Bourne took complete control as the assassin took a step back to take in the new situation. What was surprising to him was that the assassin, his cover blown, looked as though he was decided whether to run or not; since when did CIA assassins run? But David Webb urged him on; this man had wanted to kill Nicky. Jason Bourne willingly agreed to hold no bars; either the man had broken the order or Landy had failed. But the most important fact was that Nicky was threatened again.

Only a second had passed. Then Bourne struck. He shoved his whole body into the assassin, who tried to repel it with a flick of the knife. Bourne's hand snaked out and caught the man's wrist. He spun the man by his wrist and slammed him into the wall. Pinning him with his weight Bourne head-butted his nose and then stomped on the man's foot. A shout of pain got out as Bourne knocked the knife out of his hand. His shout was cut when Bourne elbowed him.

He grabbed the man by the throat and slammed him into the wall again. David Webb was glorifying in the violent retribution for disturbing him and Nicky and threatening them. But Bourne was confused; this was far too easy. There was no way this could be the CIA. He pressed down on the man's throat in a certain way, doubtlessly hurting him. He elicited a groan before letting up. "Who sent you?" Bourne demanded. Behind him, he could sense Nicky getting, as confused as he was. But he was certain that she was scared. He pressed the spot again. "I said who sent you?!"

The man made a grunt of pain before answering. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he said. Bourne wouldn't take that for an answer. He pressed harder on the spot for longer. The man groaned loudly in pain. Both of his personalities were eager to hurt him.

Bourne tried the question again. "Tell me who sent you!"

"Don't remember, do you killer?" the man jested. Bourne's headache started to return as his memory attempted to piece together who was attacking them. His concentration slipped just a little, and that was all that the assassin needed. He kneed Bourne in the groin and then struck him in the jaw. Bourne staggered back and his rage renewed itself. As the man reached for a weapon inside his jacket, he realize that he was dead. Bourne smiled coldly as he read the other's stance.

In a flash of motion Bourne struck him in the nose again with an elbow. While the other reeled he kicked hard right above the man's knee, breaking it. The assassin screamed pain. Bourne shoved into a wall edge and then threw his weight against the man's arm. The arm snapped against the edge of the wall. Before the man could even renew his excruciating scream, Jason Bourne picked up a nearby boom box and slammed it into the man's head, knocking him out. The man slouched onto the floor, broken and unconscious. It wasn't enough for Bourne and David; he had broken his healing with Nicky and threatened her. He whipped out his gun to finish him.

"Wait," Nicky said, touching Bourne hesitantly on the shoulder, fearful that he might react without knowing. For Bourne such a reaction could never exist. He turned slowly to face her, caught up in the heat of combat and the killer assassin persona Jason Bourne. But at the sight of her face, Jason Bourne relaxed as David Webb examined the face of the person he needed. Nicky didn't want to remember death following the memory of her kiss with her. She was scared, not only by the assassin, but by his abrupt volatile reaction to the killer. Guilt flooded him again; he had promised not to terrify her again, but he had. And this time he hadn't even pointed a gun towards her.

His face softened as he read the rest of what she had to say. For a moment they met each other's eyes, exchanging their thoughts and fears. Bourne lowered the handgun and eventually put it away. "It's not safe here. Landy didn't get the order rescinded," Bourne finally spoke, bringing them back to their current threat. He wasn't going to stand around and sit while Nicky was in danger. He had his life to give for hers, but if he died and left her in a dangerous spot then she would die anyway. He couldn't allow that.

Nicky looked down at the unconscious man. "He's not from Treadstone or Black Briar," she noted, her expression changing. Frowning, Bourne looked back at the body. His memory triggered; he knew the man. Not directly, but he knew who he was with and why he was here. It was ironic in a way, David Webb noted. He had come for Nicky and discovered his relationship with her through a memory in which the organization he targeted had come after him for revenge. And here was the same organization here to kill them again. Bourne began forming escape routes out of the city; they needed to get out of here.

"He's not CIA," Bourne muttered. "He's Italian Mafia." He looked back at Nicky's face. His thoughts were laid bare before her as he took in what she had to express. She gave him the same look that had been previously haunting him: fear, longing, and trust. He wanted to but there was no time to explain at the moment; there might be more men coming soon. He tried to express how important it was to leave London. She understood, but he could tell she was more frightened as well. His heart, David Webb, tugged. Running his hand through her hair, he kissed her on the forehead and whispered, "Trust me." She felt calmer. David Webb urged him to take her again, to fulfill the hunger he still felt from kissing her, but Bourne needed to get them out.

They headed for the front door. Bourne opened it and took Nicky by the arm, his other hand on his gun. "Where's your car?" Bourne asked quietly. Perhaps it was the similarity of the situation, that they had shared a passionate embrace, or her familiarity with working with him, but Nicky was acting calmer now.

"I usually take a taxi or walk," Nicky replied. Bourne's mind scrambled to find an alternate vehicle. He spotted what he was after and they began to walk down the sidewalk. As they did, Bourne's instincts came to life; they were being watched. His grip on his gun tightened. They walked faster towards the crosswalk. Paying no heed to the traffic waiting for the light to turn green, Bourne led Nicky into the street towards a taxi. The driver was thankfully not carrying passengers; that would make it easier to 'borrow' the taxi. He wondered if he would ever be involved with a taxi that didn't end up being stolen or the driver running away from him.

He pulled out his gun and aimed it at the driver, stating. "I need your car." The driver's reaction was far different from what he expected.

"You…" the driver said half in shock, half in awe. "You're David Webb, the CIA agent everyone calls Jason Bourne. You're…you're here…" How on earth the man could recognize him meant that the coverage of Black Briar had been highly public, and that the media was trying to crack open the personal history belonging to Jason Bourne. But he could deal with this later.

"It's Bourne. I don't have time; get out," Jason ordered. Slowly like he was dreaming, the cab driver got out. Nicky got in on the other side and Bourne climbed in the driver's seat. He shut the door and slammed down on the gas; the cab took off with tires squealing. The cab driver watched, still in shock Jason Bourne had taken his cab, as Bourne ran the light. What surprised the driver more was when two black vehicles pulled out from the intersecting road and took after him.

Inside the taxi, Bourne was recalling roads and streets. "How many are behind us?" he asked Nicky. Nicky glanced out the back window before giving him one of her piercing, open looks. Bourne gritted his teeth. Adrenaline started to enter his system as his training recognized a car chase. He sped up. Ahead the light started to turn yellow. Bourne took it in and started to coast. Nicky looked at him in surprise; this was not Bourne to slow down for a light.

As they reached the light, Bourne slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel. The taxi screeched as it swung 180 degrees into the other lane. One of the two mafia cars couldn't stop and went into the intersection; it was struck on both sides, creating a mess of traffic. Bourne slammed on the gas pedal and the taxi took off the way it came, passing the second mafia car that was trying to slow down. Nicky released her grip on the chair; that was more like Bourne to pull a stunt like that. She found him smiling slightly at her obvious fright on her face. She sent him an expression that said if he did that for humor, she didn't enjoy.

Bourne's face grew serious as they drifted into an intersecting road. He wasn't trying to be funny; he was more focused on getting away. Nicky stopped looking at him to be less of a distraction. Within minutes her life was once again turned upside down, courtesy to Jason Bourne. There were few dull moments when Bourne was nearby, whether it was escaping enemies or something more intimate. Her body ached to be that close again, to be wrapped in his embrace with his lips pressed against hers… She shook herself; she needed to pay attention to what was going on, especially as Bourne pulled into a roundabout.

The car drifted in circles around the turnabout lane. Bourne didn't even look like he was paying attention to an exit. "Keep your head down and brace yourself," he told her. Nicky knew better than to hesitate with Bourne said. She ducked down as Bourne reached for his gun. Just over the edge of her window, she saw what he was about to do; they were drifting right towards the mafia car, which was entering the turnabout. The two cars slammed into each other, and Nicky hid her face again as metal crunched and her window shattered.

The cars grinded together, and she heard the distinctive sound of gunfire ring in her ears as Bourne fired into the other car. Only three shots went off; she wondered whether he'd shot one man three times or three men each. With him, it could be either one. The groaning of steel stopped as Bourne ended the drift and drove off, leaving the Mafia car behind. He didn't relent on his speed, though.

"Are you all right?" he asked. Nicky accepted that as allowance to sit back up. She did so and nodded in response to his question. The sound of gunshots was still ringing in her ears, and her body was racing after the impact. She put a hand over her heart to feel the beat and to try to slow it down. Her movements weren't lost on Bourne, whose face softened with guilt and sorrow. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

She let him know she didn't blame him, and his regular expression slowly returned. "I've never been in a crash before," she explained. Bourne seemed to understand; the man had been in countless crashes. She remembered seeing some of the footage from his chases in Moscow and New York; it made her cringe and wince in fear and worry of what he was doing to himself. Come to think of it, he had fallen off of the building only a couple weeks ago; didn't he still have marks to show from that? Knowing Bourne, he might not have even bothered to take the bullet out if it hadn't gone through.

They both heard shots hit the back of the taxi, and Bourne let the pedal drop all the way. Nicky glanced behind them; the car they'd just smashed into was after them again; someone else was likely driving. Then they heard the sound of sirens. Bourne's face hardened; this was more than he wanted to deal with. Nicky secretly agreed, but didn't express it. Bourne needed his attention ahead and on what he was doing. Her body still ached for him.

Bourne told Nick to put her head back down as more gun shots stung the air. One managed to strike the taxi's back left tire, and he put his gun away to give him more control of the wheel. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the car right behind them in the mirror. It bumped them hard. Bourne jerked, and the gun he was trying to put away dropped out of his pocket and onto the floor. He gritted his teeth. "The gun's under the brake pedal," he grunted.

Wordlessly Nicky put her head on his leg while she reached for it. As she was grabbing hold of it, Jason Bourne and David Webb became awkwardly aware of her position to him. It was distracting as he felt the heat of her face pour into his leg. Jason hoped she would hurry up so he could focus on getting them out alive, while David hoped the gun was stuck. Nicky seemed aware as well, because her cheeks flushed as she finally got the handgun out. She handed it back to him and sat back normally, face turned a faint pink. He would have loved to take in her expression, but the mafia car rammed them again. This time he kept his grip on the gun.

"Hold the wheel and head straight," Bourne ordered. Nicky grabbed the wheel from where she was as Bourne twisted in his seat. Using his hand and the seat as a platform, he aimed for the driver and fired. His single shot struck the man in the forehead. Their driver hung over the wheel, and his body weight turned it; the mafia car made a sharp swerve into an oncoming car. Bourne turned back around and took the wheel back. He wouldn't like to be in that crash.

He stopped the car a block from the train station. They got out and Bourne stashed his gun back in his pocket. Taking his familiar grip of Nicky's arm, they headed for the train station. He calculated how far off the sirens were; they might be on the train before the police arrived. Bourne recognized the train station: Waterloo. No doubt with his disruption and countless ran lights, the CIA would be wondering what he was up to now. They would have to take the hard way to a train.

Bourne read the leaving/boarding sign as they entered. He began to weave a way through the cameras, ensuring that they wouldn't be seen. At one point, he was forced to cross in front of a camera, but he kept his face down; they shouldn't be able to recognize that. They stopped at a hat store to buy a scarf and fedora; he placed them on Nicky to keep her hidden from the cameras. She gave him the look again as he did; he tried to give him a trusting reassurance posture in reply. They headed out of the store and back to weaving among cameras.

With little difficulty they got onto a train and sat down at a table. It got moving well before the sirens reached the station. He released a breath and let his adrenaline go down, leaving him tired. It was always like this after each chase, each confrontation or fight. Rather that summarize what happened, he turned his attention to Nicky. They exchanged a silent conversation before Nicky spoke this time. She placed a hand on his, sending tingling up his arm and warming his blood.

"What's going on?" she asked. Bourne glanced around at the car and then back to her.

"They're back again," he muttered.

*****

"Pam, we have a problem," Pam's assistant said, standing in her office doorway. She looked up at him from what she was doing. Her fears were confirmed when Paz showed up behind him. She sighed and rubbed her temples before turning back up to them. Paz's face revealed nothing, but his presence did.

"Get the team up and running," Pam ordered. "Paz, just in case, start thinking like Bourne." Paz nodded and left soundlessly. She organized what she had been doing in a neat pile before looking back up at her assistant. "What's the situation this time?"

"The new director wants to know what Bourne's up to," her assistant explained. The director wanted to know; that made it worse. She grabbed her file on Bourne and walked with her assistant to their operations room.

"Fill me in."