Moscow, Russia
36 hours later
Mikhail Kirill descended the stairs from his sound proof office above the dance floor of the packed techno club he owned and waded through the crowd of would be female suitors that always thronged around the stairs and pushed his way to the bar. He reached behind it and grabbed a bottle of vodka. He saw the bar tenders head jerk up in alarm before he saw it was his boss. Kirill made a fake pouring out of the bottle motion and wagged his finger 'no' as if scolding a small child and then held up a shot glass. The bartender nodded solemnly at being scolded for 'free pouring' and not measuring the shots, but corrected his alcohol dispensation.
Kirill grabbed a fist full of shot glasses and waded through the crowd until he reached the corner booth that was roped off his use and for VIPs on the off chance they got lost and wandered in. As he pushed past the last person his eyes locked on the man sitting at his table and to Kirill's credit he didn't even flinch when is eyes met with Jason Bourne's. Both of Jason's hands were on the table and motioned to the seat across from him. Kirill pulled the shot glasses from his pocket and lined the four of them up and filled them before passing two to Jason.
"I knew you would come…" Mikhail shouted over the techno noise.
Bourne picked up a folder from beside his seat and dropped it in front of Kirill. Slightly taken back, Kirill did a shot before flipping through the file. He skimmed a great deal of it, but read the conclusion twice. He did the other shot and motioned for Jason to do the same and motioned for him to pick up his glasses.
Kirill reached under the table slowly and moved a lever, then flipped the table top up so that it created a barrier. Bourne saw that there were metal plates welded under the table top so it could be used as a shield. He knocked on it approvingly as Kirill reached into the middle pedestal, which was hollow, and retrieved a mini-Uzi and a backpack. He then put the mini-Uzi back and lowered the table and secured it again.
He held up his hand as he passed the bar and the bartender flipped him a pack of cigarettes which he caught without even looking up. He opened the door and ushered Bourne out as a black SUV pulled to the curb and his personal valet hopped out.
"…the airport," Bourne said curtly. He nodded as he sped off. He saw Bourne looking around the interior of the vehicle and smiled wryly, "Is this the same car?"
Kirill was already smiling, "No, it was ruined. Same make, model, year, color… everything. I get a bulk discount. Where are we headed?"
"India…" Bourne said solemnly, as Kirill looked at him sideways.
Ten Hours Later
Goa, India
Aaron Cross had been watching the little cemetery, from the patio of a tiny restaurant which was located up a step hillside, for most of the day. He was about to give up when he saw a Caucasian man from far off- past the cemetery walking towards it. He wished he could've used binoculars, or a scope to get a clearer view, but he knew the man was aware of his presence.
Suddenly he knew the man wasn't right, nothing about this seemed right. As the danger bells went off he heard a voice from behind him, "So, are we both going to keep pretending the other isn't there?"
"I was being polite…" Cross laughed inexplicably, but didn't move an inch.
"You mind if I join you?" Bourne asked as he pulled out a chair.
"Please," Cross looked at him for the first time. "I thought you'd be taller."
"Yeah, I get that a lot."
"A friend of yours?" he nodded to Kirill as he passed the Cemetery and made his way up the hill.
"Kind of…"
"That was a clever move- we always work alone."
"Not anymore. You should be more careful."
"Well, it was a calculated risk. I thought it was worth it, to exchange information."
"…and the risk to Marta?"
"Oh, she'll be just fine."
"…in Western Australia?"
Cross tensed immediately at this, his mind working furiously. "You didn't know where I was, but figured I'd be here- today… because I hoped you would be… and traced my future movements- backwards, before I made them. But I left false trails all over the place."
"It was all Nicky's doing. She use to be my handler and work logistics. She came back with several possibles, Australia was the most likely and then Nicky found her adjunct classes at the community college."
"I told her that was foolish, but she'd rather die than wait tables or clean bed pans."
Bourne pulled the folder out and dropped it in front of him. He saw the TOP SECRET stamp and shoved it back across the table, "No way. I'm retired."
"That's what I said too- read it."
"…and I said no."
Kirill joined them and grabbed a chair from the other table, "He said no?"
"He won't read it."
"He will- or I'll cut his eyelids off and make him read it…"
All three men bolted up, "Whoah-" Bourne yelled. "Cross, ignore him- he's drunk. He's been drinking since he read it. Read the damn file, if the answer is still no then we're gone…"
"Your friend needs refresher courses in charm school."
"Granted. I jumped off a fourteen story building to get away from these people and I am in on this- we all are, like it or not. If you're in a plane that's crashing, do you want to be in the tail of the plane blissfully unaware, or in the pilots seat? I'll consider it a personal favor if you just look at it."
Kirill took a long pull from a water bottle that was full of Stoli's. Cross looked at Bourne for several more of Kirill's pulls, weighing his seriousness. "Okay, fine." Bourne gave him the file again and he started flipping through the file. "So, how about some ice breakers. How did you two meet?"
"I shot his lover in the head by mistake, when they sent me to kill him…" Kirill pointed to the Cemetery.
Cross motioned for a pull of the vodka and continued as if nothing shocking had occurred, "Great! So, now that the ice is broken… Who is putting this together- you?"
Bourne was hoping this wouldn't come up until later, "Eric Byer."
Cross choked and sputtered, "You are joking right- you're a comedian? Are we playing 'two truths and a lie' now, because that had better be the lie."
"No. This is bigger than all of us. Dr. Shearing is going to be in on this; we need her too much."
"Hell no."
"There won't be any stopping her, you know that."
"No need- because I'm not going to tell her!"
Jason checked his watch, "Her Intro to Bio class started ten minutes ago and Nicky was in it, so we'll see how well that works out for you."
"That's dirty pool Bourne. Didn't figure you for a stooge and I am certainly not one- not anymore." He slid the file back across the table. "Thanks, but no thanks. As for that favor- you never saw me."
Bourne shrugged and collected the file, "Come on lets go." Kirill nodded and they headed down the hill together. "You mind giving me a minute?"
Kirill checked his watch, "We have four hours. Take all you want."
Jason was there half an hour before he rejoined Kirill and as they walked Cross caught up to them. "I reconsidered…"
"No thanks."
"Excuse me?"
"We can't have anyone that's not 'all in' on this."
"So, I'm all in."
Bourne round on him fast and their noses almost touched they were so close. Bourne stared him in the eye for nearly a minute and saw nothing but determination. "Okay."
As they walked down the hill Cross added, "Just a warning, I'm expecting Byer to try to kill Shearing and I when this is over."
"Oh, I expect him to try to kill all of us."
"See we are getting along already…"
Jacksonville, Florida
As the B2 stealth bomber buzzed the St John's River, Major Paige Tyler's co-pilot murmured, "Isn't this a bit low Major?"
Her eyes rolled upward and she locked them there in exasperation. She knew he hated her and thought she got promoted over him because she was a woman, or beautiful, or more likely that she slept with the right crusty old generals. He questioned everything she did so he could be 'on the record' if she screwed up. If she was flying higher he'd say she was 'off mission'. "We are fifty feet above minimum. Our line is fine. We should pass directly over our target at 12:17:00. Arm the warhead in 3, 2, 1…" They entered in their arming codes and hit enter together.
She saw the circular structure approaching and just before they passed over it she heard a chirp and hit the bomb release. She did it without hesitation. She was the first woman in the US that had ever had her 'finger on the button' of a nuclear device. She knew most military men doubted a woman had the capacity to kill millions of people. The truth is, no one knows who can or can't until the moment arrives.
She started to climb and bank the aircraft as her unwilling side-kick look out the window at the packed football stadium. "Bomb was on target. Do you think those people know we do these flyovers as bombing practice?"
"No," she said flatly. "They think it's a PR gimmick for recruiting; which is also a reason we do it."
Just then a voice broad-casted orders to them, [Flight M109 you are ordered to change course, we are transferring the coordinates to you now…]
They both looked at each other and he tentatively asked, "Have you ever had that happen before- in training?"
"No. Where is it?"
"Northern Illinois? Halfway between Illinois and Chicago…"
"There aren't any Air Force bases anywhere near there," she said as she retracted her visor. "Get them to manually code in…" she pointed to their code book.
[Roger that. The captain requests you code in…]
[Roger. Code is RED: X18FY39W-1F237PQWT]
He nodded and shrugged.
"Tell them you want another…"
"Sir?"
"A voice on the radio asked us to take a two Billion dollar piece of equipment off mission to a unknown location. Code them in again, you ask them for one." He glared at her. "That's an order."
[Roger control, the Captain would like to reconfirm. BLUE FG73HBNFJ4+345GHT7-432]
[Response is: YELLOW 4565JBU3J4-THTE84542]
He nodded again and she returned an approving nod.
[Roger control. Diverting now…]
San Diego, California
Allen Goens watched in fascination as the burning remains of half of a corpse crawled toward him, reaching out for him as he pressed the X button and jumped teasingly from its grasp. "Ha ha, how do you like that SHTUMPY!?" he mocked the Nazi Zombie in a poor German accent. "Come on Ash! I can't run this crawler around forever! Tie a knot in it already!"
His sixteen year old daughter jumped over the back of the Italian leather sofa and snatched up her pink Playstation 3 controller. "Look Dad, I know I haven't had a chance to sit down with you and have 'the talk' yet, but boys and girls have different parts… There isn't anything for me to 'tie off'."
"Stick a cork in it?" he grinned broadly.
She squinted at him maliciously, "I forgot- I need tampons, make sure you pick some up tomorrow on the way home. You can even use the line with the cute cashier you like; you know the one that's always there when you buy the Magnums you don't need nor require…" She slapped him on the knee.
He rolled his eyes, "Hey! Well, at least that explains everything…"
"Hey!" she shouted as she grabbed his nipple through his shirt and twisted hard.
"Oooouch! So, we are going to play that game?" he laughed and lunged at her.
Her eyes got as big a golf balls as she clutched her chest and rolled off the sofa. "No! NO!" she held up a scolding finger. "Inappropriate! Stranger Danger, Stranger Danger!" she giggled.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "That would make you creepy-child-molester-guy."
"Huh?" he mocked as if in deep contemplation. "But, children can still be assaulted by the Tickle Monster. He tickled her without mercy until she was out of breath. "So, if you're a 'child' that would make me a what?"
She mumbled something through her giggles.
"A what?"
"An adult!" she croaked in a voice not unlike Linda Blaire.
"Wow," he said laying back on the carpet, "That sounded painful."
She sat up and leaned over him, tears streaming down her face. "God, I haven't laughed like that since…"
"Yeah…" he butted in, "We both needed that."
He looked at her upside down face as she hovered over him, "Speaking of which a certain young man has a birthday next week and it's a BIG one!"
"Oh God… Don't say it!" he clenched his hands over his ears as she hovered over him and held up a 4 and a 0. Suddenly her head jerked up and she hopped to her feet and trotted to the door.
He pulled his hands away from his ears in time to hear her ask, "Who the hell is here at 2am?" as she turned the knob.
"Ash! Don't just fling open the door!"
A large black man towered in the doorway, "Yes Ashley, there could be a menacing black man at the door." She recognized him immediately even before he held up his badge. "I assume I need no introduction?"
Her mouth fell open in shock which was quickly followed by a rapid tear from each eye. She spun in a rage and her father saw her face instantly go scarlet. "YOU PROMISED! YOU SWORE YOU'D STOP!" she shrieked in a shrill tone that only sixteen year-old girls could reach.
"Ashley!" the man at the door barked uselessly.
"She was in that room dieing and they kicked the door in and arrested you in the middle of the night! She wasted away and died- alone, because you were in prison- and I had to take care of her! I was at her FUNERAL alone!"
As he lay speechless on the floor she grabbed a laptop from a desk by the door, raised it over her head and ran at him. She felt the computer ripped out of her hands from behind, "Ashley he isn't under arrest!"
She looked over her shoulder and eyed him suspiciously, "He isn't?"
"No, he hasn't done anything- well- I'm sure he's doing something, but that's not why I'm here. You will be arrested though if you hit him. You can't just hit people in front of the police- you are supposed to wait for us to drive off first." She forced a smile as she wiped her face.
"What's this about Agent Donaldson?" he inquired as he crawled to his feet. "What does the NSA need me for at 2 am for?"
"We need you to come with us sir, now. There is a matter of national security and we are in need of your… expertise."
"God," she laughed genuinely. "You must be desperate…" she joked as her father glared at her.
"Right? You'll never know how hard it was to say that. Would you mind giving us a minute Ashley?"
She glared at him before storming off. "I really appreciate that agent Donaldson; she's been through enough…" he said as he held his hands out to be cuffed.
"No, I am seriously here to ask you for help…"
"What? Me- help the federal government?! No way. You know how much I love the government."
Agent Donaldson opened the door and pointed down the apartments hallway, Allen leaned out saw a SWAT team lining the hall. "You can either come work for the NSA or be questioned by the FBI. They want to talk to you about how exactly all of their desktops were switched to naked pictures of Bea Arthur and their screen savers to the intro to the Golden Girls…"
"Wow, they look pissed…"
"Yeah, it seems they are unable to switch them back…"
"Huh? That's odd…"
"Yeah. You might be gone a few days. You better get her to pack a bag too. You have ten minutes to come with me or you're going with them…"
-500ft below sea level, the Indian Ocean
The HMAS Sterling, one of six Collins class submarines in use by the Australian military, had been cutting fluidly through the ocean depths all day until it suddenly lurched.
The Japanese woman sitting at the foremost station of the bridge looked at her coffee and saw the fluid shifting to aft, they we're ascending. Just then something hit the back of her head.
She spun in her seat and pulled off her Bose noise canceling headphones, "Aye Captain?"
"Tanaka, grab your gear. I have orders to put you off my vessel."
"Sir?"
"You have ten minutes, move!"
"Captain! What? I'm being tossed off? We're in the middle of the ocean."
"No, you have a ride waiting. You have your orders."
"But, sir…"
"Damn it Reina, I don't have anymore answers than you do. You have nine minutes…"
She grabbed her things from her station and made her way though the ship to pack her meager possessions. No-one was permitted many personal items on a sub and as the only woman on board she made sure she was well under the limit to avoid giving her male counterparts anymore ammunition than they already had.
Ascending the conning tower she saw that the top hatch was open and the Captain was already there. She thought it was overcast for a moment then she saw that they were in the shadow of a massive ship.
"What the blazes? Is that a carrier?"
"It would seem so- American. It was an honor serving with you." They exchanged salutes. As he descended the ladder she suddenly realized that she had been tapping into US Navy's communications and decrypting there latest encoding system for the last six months.
"Hey Skipper," she called, "They don't shoot spies in America anymore do they?"
As he closed the hatch he mused, "You know I think they do…" and he shut the lid.
She saw the launch coming to collect her and whispered, "Well, shit… Maybe the blokes who shoot me will at least be cute…"
Westchester, New York
Paz Carrasco sat in the cold November rain and shivered despite all of his military and Treadstone conditioning. He had been sitting on the cold stone bench in the freezing rain for over half an hour, stalling. He reached up and futilely wiped the torrent of rain from his stubbled face.
{I'm sorry, I know I should have done this a long time ago but you know how I put things off… I always put things off…} he said in Spanish with a thick Chilean accent.
{I miss you a lot. I'm glad I'm finally ready, I'm just sorry it took so long.) He laughed, {I haven't spoken this much to anyone in a month.}
He felt his belt vibrate and stared at the sky in anger, he was on vacation. "What now." His handler promised him he had ten days… he was only two days into it. He reached over with his left hand and flipped open his phone and repressed a display of anger. It was a mission as he knew it was.
He was going to throw the phone in the mud until he saw the code wasn't a kill order. They always sent what looked like a phone number, but each number actually had a different meaning. The last two were always 00 which was a kill order. They were always kill orders now. The past year they had been running him into the ground. But this was a 17?
He thought about the code list three times even though he remembered it perfectly, this couldn't be right. Search and apprehend? It had the highest possible priority though, something else he had never seen. The priority his handler used was always seven, once he had used an eight and Paz thought it was a typo. But, never a ten. There was a mission briefing too?! The bizarreness of it gave him pause.
Numbly, but not from the rain, he closed the phone and tucked it in his pocket. Raising his right hand he looked at the pistol in it as he uncocked it. He looked at the rain pouring across the gun metal blue finish and realized it had an oddly beautiful look to it. He murmured regretfully, "Why didn't you take the shot?!"
He exhaled and reluctantly tucked it into his waist band. He stood up and stumbled forward several feet before collapsing to knees in the mud. {I'm sorry, but I have to put this off for a little longer. I… …love you. I'm sorry I never told you.} He traced the name on the tombstone before clutching it and using it to rise to his feet. {You always were my rock. You were the strong one, not me. I'll be back soon.} He trudged forward through the mud and to the rental car he had never expected to use again.