bourne watching this silver car. so serious he's casual. nobody passing would notice, but we do: he's on alert.
bourne slowing as he reaches the corner --
bourne checking his watch. the car. the guy. perimeter.
bourne not liking this. eyes all over -- trying to decide.
bourne catching his breath -- shifting away from the pain in his rib -- checking his watch -- but what the hell is that on his sleeve? -- fuck, it's blood -- jarda's blood --
bourne crestfallen. checking the address. this is it.