to be free. You have money. Contacts. Skills. Even if you’re on the run, you could disappear. I’m sure you know how to do that. Put an end to this, live on a beach somewhere. Anywhere in the world.”
“Abbey—”
Before he could say anything more, she put her hands on his face and whispered to him. “If you asked me, I’d go with you. You get that, right? I’d leave everything behind.”
“That’s why I can’t ask.” Jason glanced at the corporate jet, which was in a remote corner of the airport grounds. The pilot flashed him a thumbs-up. “I have to go.”
“If that’s what you need to do, then go.”
Abbey kissed him. He could feel the passion as she held him and the longing as her mouth moved against his. It was a kiss that said she wanted him to stay, a kiss that almost changed his mind. When they broke apart, she took a last long look at him, and then she turned and walked away without another word. She didn’t look back. He watched her until she got to the Land Rover, and when she peeled away from the parking lot with the tires screeching, he watched the vehicle until it was lost in the Las Vegas traffic.
“Goodbye, Abbey Laurent,” Jason said.
Bourne picked up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. He put on sunglasses and marched through the airport gate onto the tarmac. The jet was waiting for him.
It was time to fight.
*
ABBEY filled up the Land Rover at a gas station off Paradise Road before heading to the freeway. Her mind was full of Jason, and she was equal parts angry and lonely. She didn’t really think about what she was doing. She took cash from her wallet and went inside to prepay, then waited impatiently as the pump dribbled gas into the tank. As it did, she wandered into the middle of the parking lot and watched as a 737 glided over her head to land on the runway at McCarran. She could have waited to see Jason’s jet leave, but she didn’t want to see the plane that was taking him away from her.
When the tank was full, Abbey went to collect her change and then walked back to the Land Rover. She didn’t give a thought to the gas station security cameras, which had a clear view of her face and of the license plate on the SUV.
Traffic crawled on Tropicana heading west to the I-15. Hot air blew through her open window. Eventually, she reached the freeway and headed north past the Strip hotels, reversing the route that she and Jason had taken two nights ago from Mesquite. Road construction slowed her down, and she found a radio station playing fast songs to distract her.
As she passed each exit, another traffic camera registered her vehicle.
The freeway took her out of the valley into the desert hills, where she put the Land Rover on cruise control. Driving back to the cold of Canada would take her several days, but she was in no hurry. She’d continue on I-15 into Utah, head across the mountains toward Denver, and then traverse the flat midwestern lands through Lincoln, Des Moines, and into Chicago. She’d cross the border in Michigan north of Detroit and be back home for the final leg through Ontario into Quebec.
She didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings as she drove. Her mind was elsewhere. Then, half an hour outside Las Vegas, she noticed a black helicopter hovering above the scrubland near the freeway. It was surprisingly low to the ground, with no markings to identify it. After she passed it, she kept an eye on the machine in her mirror, until it disappeared from view as she crested a shallow hill. There was nothing else around her in this section of the road. Utility poles dotted the plains, and rust-colored stone mountains bordered the highway on both sides. She was miles from the nearest town.
Not long after, she noticed something odd. Traffic had completely disappeared from the southbound lanes of the freeway. There wasn’t another vehicle to be seen anywhere. When she looked in her mirror, she realized the same was true in her own lane. All the trucks and cars that had been playing tag with her since she left the valley had vanished. She was literally alone in the desert.
Abbey tapped the brakes, feeling a strange sense of foreboding. As she slowed down, a deafening roar erupted outside the