Page 5 of Jason Bourne
I checked. Nothing. Just a rusty lock and an old latch. Child’s play.
Nate breathed, “After you, Romeo.”
I lifted the hatch, knife first, heart pounding.
Below,a narrow ladder plunged into stale diesel heat. Voices — foreign accents, low arguments. I caught one word in Mandarin:girl.
Lane.
I descended slow, and silent. Forest was watching my back, and Nate was right behind him.
At the bottom, the corridor split left and right. Cargo containers stacked like tombs. A single bare bulb flickered overhead, shadows dancing on salt-rusted walls.
Footsteps — heavy boots coming around the bend. I pressed flat against a container, Forest mirroring me across the passage.
A guard rounded the corner, yawning, scratching his belly.
One soft thud. Forest dropped him like a sack of rice.
Nate rifled the pockets, found a keyring. “Jackpot.”
I nodded.“Check every damn lock until you find them. Quietly.”
Forest peeled off left. Nate and I headed right. Each container had a heavy padlock, welded plates, more security than any fishing vessel should ever need.
I found one with fresh scratches around the lock. Blood droplets. A woman’s boot print in grime.
My heart stuttered.
“Nate. Here.”
He jammed the key in. Click. The latch fell away.
I eased the door open.
There she was.
Lane Brewer — her hair in her face, wrists cuffed raw above her head, eyes half-closed but blazing fire when they landed on me.
“Jason?” Her voice cracked. She blinked hard. “You came.”
I stepped inside, hands already at her cuffs. “Hell yeah, I came, sweetheart. And I’m not leaving without you. Where is Zoe?”
She started to cry.
6
Jason
Icupped her face first. Couldn’t help it. I needed to feel her skin under my palms to believe she was real and breathing.
“Hey,” I rasped. My thumbs brushed grime and blood off her cheekbones. “Lane. Look at me.”
She did. Those eyes — wildfire and oceans. Same as five years ago. Except now they shimmered wet, her lashes clumped together from tears she didn’t even seem to notice.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” I whispered. My fingers shook as I worked the cuff key. The lock fought me, slick with rust and her blood.
“I thought—” Her voice cracked. “I thought you were just… in my head again.”
