Page 32 of Jason Bourne
I shoved the thug harder into the bark. “I said—where is she?”
“Fifty yards east. Red shed. Don’t—don’t shoot!”
Jason’s team regrouped around us, quick and quiet. Rush clapped me on the shoulder with a grin. “Hell, Lane. Remind me not to piss you off.”
I shoved the man to Forest. “Bag him.” My pulse hammered, but I forced my voice steady. “Let’s move. Marcie’s waiting.”
35
Lane
Gunfire tore through the trees, ripping bark and lighting the night with muzzle flashes.
“Contact left!” Nate shouted, firing controlled bursts.
Jason shoved Marcie into Forest’s arms. “Get her out!”
“I’ve got her,” Forest barked, pulling her low and moving fast toward the ridge.
Another round cracked past my ear. I dropped, returned fire, and saw a shadow crumple into the brush. My heart hammered, but my hands were steady.
Rush slid in beside me, grinning like a wolf. “You always fight this mean, Sheriff?”
“Only when I’m pissed.”
“Good. Keep it up.” He popped up, fired, dropped back down. “Two down.”
Jason moved like liquid death through the chaos, every shot precise, every step calculated. Huck covered his flank, while Nate kept the rest pinned from the ridge line.
A round smacked into the ground inches from my knee. I rolled, sighted, and dropped the shooter before he could realign.Adrenaline surged through me, sharp and hot. I wasn’t just surviving—I wasin it.
Jason’s voice cut through the chaos. “Lane! Right side!”
I pivoted just as another man broke from the trees, charging me with a knife glinting in his fist. He was fast, but I was faster. I caught his wrist, twisted hard, and slammed him to the ground with his own momentum. My boot pinned his chest, Glock aimed between his eyes.
“Game over,” I snarled.
Jason was suddenly there, rifle sweeping the treeline. “Nice work, Sheriff.”
Minutes later, the gunfire tapered off. Silence reclaimed the ridge, broken only by the ringing in my ears and the groans of Harris’s men bleeding in the dirt.
Nate called it first. “All clear.”
Forest emerged from the shadows with Marcie clinging to his arm, wide-eyed but alive. Relief swept through me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
Jason reached me, his hand brushing mine briefly, grounding me. His voice was low, meant for me alone. “You were fire out there, Lane. Absolute fire.”
I didn’t answer, because my throat was too tight.
But I knew this—Jason’s world wasn’t something I had to fight to fit into anymore. Tonight, I’d proved I already belonged.
36
Lane
The shed crouched at the edge of the creek like a dark wound against the snow. Red paint peeling, padlock glinting in the moonlight. Too quiet.
Jason raised a fist, halting the team. His eyes met mine, sharp, questioning.Your call.
