BOURNE ROGUE

Prologue

Rochelle, Michigan

The case looked so innocent. A simple black briefcase, hard-sided and slightly glossy. It sat on the table in front of him, with no outward clues to the utter devastation it held inside. The man sitting across the room gazed at it thoughtfully, a snifter of brandy in his hand. He was middle aged, with thinning brown hair and a modestly thick middle. A rather unremarkable, ordinary looking man, who many would never even suspect of being incredibly intelligent. He liked to think of himself as a genius, and the description was appropriate. He sighed as he looked at the case. It had taken him four years, but the device was finally ready. And it would be his masterpiece, capable of great things.
Call it a Doomsday device, call it a World Engine, call it whatever the hell you wanted to. Its purpose remained the same. The silence in the room was broken by a phone ringing, and it was evidently expected by the man, for he did not seem startled by the sudden noise. He calmly picked up the phone and answered "I'm here."
A voice on the other end murmured "Dr. Carruthers. So nice to speak to you again."
God, this guy annoyed him. Carruthers knew perfectly well that this man despised him. "Emeric," he said by way of greeting. There was a chuckle on the other end, followed by "You sound stressed, friend. What's the matter?"
Carruthers gripped the phone tightly as he answered "We aren't friends, so don't even pretend to be. And you know perfectly well what's wrong."
Emeric's voice didn't lose the smoothness, but it went from friendly to ice cold in the blink of an eye. "Very well, for I also tire of this charade. Is it done?"
Carruthers took a deep breath. "Before I tell you, are my wife and children safe? And when are you letting them go free?"
Emeric answered "Now, now. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Yes, they are safe. And they will be released when the device is delivered to me. Now, is. It. Done?"
Carruthers looked back up at the case on the table. "Yes....it's done."
"Good. It took you long enough."
He stayed quiet, knowing that Emeric was just trying to get under his skin. After a moment of silence, Emeric said "I'm sending someone to pick it up. Be ready."
Carruthers asked "When will he be here?"
But he was answered only by a dial tone. Emeric had hung up. Again. He never answered any time related questions, such as "How long?" or "When?" He didn't want Carruthers guessing where he was based on how long it took for the man to get there. But there was no guarantee that Emeric was even at the same location that the man would be coming from. With a sigh, Carruthers settled back down with his snifter. The man could be five minutes away, or an hour, or fifteen minutes. There was no way to know. So there was nothing left to do but wait.
He took a sip of brandy and tried to relax. But after only a few minutes, he felt the urgent need to move around. Even the calmest of men wouldn't be able to relax for long under these circumstances. Standing up, he walked into the kitchen and refilled his brandy, then restlessly wandered through the house. It wasn't his, just a place they had given him as a place to work. But over the four years he had lived and worked there, it had become as much a home as the one he had left behind when they had recruited him. He wandered into the living room and looked out the large windows, letting his gaze roam over the snowy neighborhood. It was a quiet, peaceful place where nothing ever happened. The perfect place to build a world ending weapon. His thoughts turned to his beautiful wife Isabelle, and their children Maggie and Lucas. "Soon," he silently promised them. "Soon it will be over, and we can find some corner of this doomed world where they will never find us again."
Suddenly movement caught his eye and snapped him out of his thoughts. A man was walking down the sidewalk toward his house with the same purposeful stride that all Emeric's men shared. He looked rather ordinary, brown hair, plain black jacket, nothing remarkable about him. He was definitely from Emeric. With a sigh, Carruthers turned to get the briefcase. But suddenly the man stopped, looking at the end of the street. Carruthers followed his gaze to the gray car that had just turned the corner and was now driving toward his house. He looked back at the man, who casually turned around and began strolling back down the street. If he hadn't just seen him walking so intently, he would have thought him a resident of the neighborhood, simply out for a stroll. The strange man reached the end of the block, turned the corner, and disappeared. Carruthers wondered about him, but just then the gray car pulled up in the driveway, and a man got out. Carruthers met him at the door, briefcase in hand. As was required, he asked "Did Shakespeare send you?"
The man answered correctly with "I'll give him your regards."
Carruthers handed the case over, after quickly coding in the man's DNA. In return he got a small white envelope. The man got back in his car and drove away down the street, and Carruthers watched him go. Then he looked down at the envelope. Taking a deep breath, he opened it with shaking hands. Inside there was a small piece of folded paper, upon which was written:

                          Well done.

Your family is at 4996 Winona Lane.
They are unharmed.
You have served me well and so you shall be rewarded.
Go to your family.
Live a life in peace.
I will never contact you again.

~E

Carruthers had been trained never to take someone's word. Never trust anyone. Never blindly follow directions. The list went on and on, and he had followed it his whole life. But today was an exception. Looking back, he should have questioned it. He should have thought about it. But he was a father who had been separated from his family for four years, hoping and praying that he might one day see them again. So the only thought running through his head as he drove was "How fast can I get there?"

He should have followed his training.

It would have saved his life.