Free The Machine Awakes by Adam Christopher Page B

new Bureau issue.
    â€œI’m sorry, Von,” said Braben. “I’m just following orders.”
    Then he pointed the gun across the table at Von Kodiak and pulled the trigger.

 
    8
    Cait—head down against the stiff wind, hood up against the evening rain—headed through the poorly lit night streets of Salt City, grateful to have gotten out of the virtual daylight of New Orem just a few miles behind her. It had taken hours to get out of the Fleet capital, her flight from the Memorial a series of double-backs and dead-ends as marines flooded the city streets, rolling out a lockdown with terrifying speed. That she’d managed to keep ahead of them was a miracle, but once within the bounds of Salt City itself, it had gotten easier. The security forces in the city seemed more intent on locking down the good side of the city, turning the slum into Cait’s haven. Normally there was little surveillance, only the occasional monitor drone soaring high overhead, and few cops bothered to venture very far into its labyrinthine streets. Tonight seemed no different—if anything, with the attention being focused on the streets of New Orem, Salt City felt ever safer somehow. The clouds were low and thick, the rain heavy, and Cait’s dark clothing melted into the shadows admirably. Throw in her stealth training, and she made good progress, putting as many blocks between her and the Fleet capital as possible.
    She pulled into an alley, adjusted her pack, and peeked out from the under the brim of her hood to check her bearings.
    Then a light-headedness came over her. She crouched down against the wall and took a series of deep breaths as the events of the day finally began to catch up with her.
    Because while she had managed to get out of the city, she had no fucking clue what to do next. The Fleet Admiral was dead, but it hadn’t been by her hand. The instructions she’d been given, the plan outlined to her, was out the fucking window.
    So what was going on? What had happened back there? There was another assassin—that much was obvious. Had they sent multiple shooters, without telling any of them that there were others? That didn’t make sense—they’d be as confused and scared as her, and while she’d been lucky in her escape, the more agents they had on the hill overlooking the Wall of Remembrance, the more chance one of them would have been caught, blowing the whole operation wide open.
    Cait’s mind raced. Wasn’t it more likely there was another group who wanted the Fleet Admiral dead and had seen the same opportunity her own employers had? If one such group could plan an attack like that, couldn’t another?
    Cait closed her eyes, focusing on the tingle that sparked across her skin, willing the power to fade, to leave her the fuck alone so she could think.
    What could she do? The plan was to carry out the mission, then rendezvous back in Salt City at a predetermined location, and then they would fulfill their part of the bargain. The thought of seeing her brother again lifted her spirits, but was that even going to happen now?
    A cold feeling grew in her chest. They’d know it wasn’t her, that she hadn’t pulled the trigger. The Fleet Admiral was dead but she wasn’t the killer. What would they do when they found her? Even without thinking about it, she’d been heading toward the rendezvous. But what was she going to walk into?
    What would they do to her? To her brother?
    â€œFuck,” said Cait, then she said it again, and again, standing and kicking the alley wall with her toe until it hurt.
    Then she turned and pressed her back against the wall. She tilted her head up, allowing the rain to patter on her face.
    She needed answers. She needed a plan of her own.
    Cait checked the street from the alley. It was quiet except for the steady hiss of rain. She was pretty close to the rendezvous. She could still make it in time.
    But was that