Page 16 of Jason Bourne
Nate:“Tick-tock, lovers. In and out or I push the button.”
Lane smiled — all danger and promise. “Guess we’d better steal everything fast.”
We slipped through the door — two phantoms in the belly of the beast.
16
Jason
Lane’s fingers danced over the laptop keyboard, hijacking every scrap of data while I watched the door. Sweat beaded between my shoulder blades under the combat vest, the seconds dripping by like blood from an open wound.
Forest’s voice crackled in my ear.“Charges are hot. Five minutes, then this place kisses the ocean.”
Nate’s voice came through the comm like a slap.“Hope you two lovebirds are done swapping spit in there.”
Lane didn’t look up from her screen. “One more wisecrack, Hayes, and I’ll let Jason gut you first.”
I almost laughed — but then the server room door shuddered under the slam of a boot.
“Time’s up,” I growled. I snatched the laptop, snapped it shut, and grabbed Lane’s wrist. “Move.”
She didn’t argue — just yanked her pistol free and hit the light switch, plunging us into blackness as the door burst wide.
Muzzle flashes lit the shadows. I dragged her behind a rack of humming drives, bullets sparking off metal where our heads had been a heartbeat ago.
She hissed in my ear, “Left exit, service stairwell, now.”
I kicked a rolling chair across the aisle — drew fire — then we broke right, low and fast. My shoulder slammed into a guard; my blade flicked out, his throat opened, and momentum carried us past.
Lane was a blur beside me, double-tapping a shadow behind a crate, never missing stride.
We hitthe stairs two at a time. Below, the alarm warbled — and beneath that, a deeper rumble. The timed charges, waking up like a sleeping giant.
Forest’s voice, calm and lethal:“Sixty seconds, boss.”
I yanked Lane to the landing, bracing her against the wall. Her chest heaved, eyes wide with fight and fire.
“You good?”
She bared her teeth. “Better than good. Blow this bitch.”
I wanted to kiss her right then — but a rifle barked behind us. She ducked under my arm, fired back, the echo like thunder in the stairwell.
We hit the dock at a dead sprint.
Nate and Forestwaited by the gangway, both grinning like wolves. Beyond them, the zodiac bobbed, engine gurgling low, the trawler drifting to pick us up the second the fireworks started.
Lane skidded to a stop just long enough to flip the detonator switch on Nate’s belt. “Surprise, assholes.”
Then we ran — boots pounding steel, salt wind slamming our faces. Behind us, a low rumble cracked the night wide open.
One crate exploded — then another — then the entire side of the warehouse blossomed into a roaring fireball. Heat licked my back as I shoved Lane toward the railing.
“Jump!”
She didn’t hesitate. She leapt — legs tucked, hair whipping in the updraft.
I went right after her.
