Cyborg Rising (The Cyborg Option Book 2) by Scott Moon

Author:Scott Moon [Moon, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2024-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Observation was easier from a distance. Peering out from the shadows of a building, or from the concealment of a trench coat’s high collars, was what I knew best. Calming down terrified men and women while trying to evaluate their potential loyalty was nearly impossible.

My sister could have done it, but she wasn’t here, and for that I was grateful, despite the inconvenience. Prayer was illegal in the Protectorate, but I hoped God would show mercy. A powerful part of my psychology warned against making the attempt to seek divine assistance. That could only draw supernatural wrath, if there was such a thing.

Yet, if any force would help my sister and nephew, I would pay the price over and over.

What kind of person did that make me?

I didn’t know and lacked the luxury of caring. A deal with the devil, or with Grayson Lorn, or the heads of the Protectorate were all the same to me.

And so was a bargain with Icon, the leader of one million Sheen warriors.

Mendez strode into the cafeteria ahead of me. Halsteda came last, counting to see how many we’d lost already. I knew three were gone. The number would go higher. It amazed me that Halsteda came through. I’d suspected he was a mean son-of-a-gun who hated the Protectorate even more than he showed, but this took it to a new level. He might be more reliable than Mendez, if I could uncover his backstory and find the right lever.

I needed everyone doing their best.

The Arcadian was steadfast, efficient, and knew his job. But he’d been just a soldier, not one of Damocles’s strategic thinkers. So far as I could tell, he’d been chosen for loyalty and dogged determination. In the end, he’d failed at his mission. Halstead was far more of a leader, though he was definitely the troublemaking kind. I could see him holding secret union meetings in violation of Protectorate laws.

I took a seat and waited. The rest paced nervously and drove other patrons out of the room. A few hard looks were more than enough to get the job done. Before long, we had the large space to ourselves. It wasn’t secure, or sound proof, or anything I wanted in a meeting place but would have to do.

We’d moved from the obviously compromised space. That was the best we could do on short notice. Next time I would have several locations scouted, prepped, and guarded in advance—assuming I had the personnel for a real operation.

Everyone settled into their chairs. The group was smaller than I hoped, but larger than I expected. Me, Mendez, Halsteda, Peter Ryan, Debra Cain, and Will Shef were all that remained.

They waited expectantly.

“Perfect,” I said.

The ambiguousness of the response made them nervous, but they tried to hide it. I could practically feel Cain restraining the urge to check on Shef, and him staring at the side of her face with almost no attempt to hide his worry and need for reassurance.

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