Behind her, the door hisses shut, Wren’s voice cutting off.
“About today’s attack,” Viper’s voice slices through the silence. “Natural Order’s always been loud, notlethal. Street sermons, anti-cyberware rallies, the occasional sabotage. Butnever this. After years of just recruiting and making noise, this is their first real push for real territory…Why?”
His mind flashes to the moment hooded figures slipped through their territory, breaching the holowall during its refresh cycle while patrols were stretched thin. Coda warned him about that vulnerability. Kane called it paranoia. They’ve been running the same cycle settings since his uncle’s reign with no problems—until now.
Viper presses on. “And their tactics—too coordinated, too precise. It was almost like they knew—”
“How we operate,” Kane cuts in, his head spinning with the implication. Viper nods.
Only a handful of people know their crew’s methods—and most of them are here. If one of his own lieutenants wanted to see them suffer, they’d unleash something far worse than an attack on the border. Whoever is leading Natural Order, or feeding them intel, could be someone as low as a former enforcer.
His gaze lands on the other lieutenant. “Coda, have your crew run scans across VitaLink, the Veil. I want chatter from everyone—hackers, smugglers, press rats, whoever’s poking around down there.”
Coda’s hands are moving before Kane’s even finished speaking.
“Viper.” Kane fixes the weapons expert with a sharp look. “Round up your squad, reinforce our borders, and keep them armed and ready. We’re already short of a medic. Don’t make it worse.”
Viper gives a curt nod and heads for the door, already barking orders into his glowing earpiece.
“And Coda, get additional security drones to the border andback up the holowall. Top priority.”
Coda nods. “Dr. Pulaski.”
The name hangs in the air.
Kane sighs. He’s been so focused on Echo that he’s barely acknowledged the other crew members they lost in the attack. Except there’s no time to mourn—not when the crew needs him. Their families deserve more.
He nods. “Get me Pulaski’s contacts. The others too. When Wren returns, she’ll set a date for the funeral.” A grim routine he’s come to dread. “If—when Echo recovers, she’ll handle the rest.”
Coda’s response is swift. “Understood.” He strides toward a secure door at the back of the bar that opens with the scan of his eye. He steps into the shadows.
Silence settles over the room as Kane’s gaze drifts back to Echo. He brushes the glass from her wrist, olive skin gone pale beneath streaks of blood.
When Wren mentioned Seventy Seven, maybe he should’ve listened. The corps might have abandoned the outer district, but at least that means they can choose their own allies.
Kane exhales. No, his original plan holds. Going back now would look weak, and that doesn’t last long in Nova City. One crack in his resolve would have the crew questioning everything.
There’s no other way. Wren is out there, scouring Midtown for a medic, someone who can save Echo. Maybe—if they’re lucky—some sliver of light can pull them back from the brink.
2
Chapter 2 - Rafael
“Angelo Reese, room 105. Forty-five-year-old male, admitted yesterday with joint pain and arm swelling. Diagnosed with cybernetic elbow failure by Dr. Santiago. History of hypertension, with fully functioning cyber joints in both arms and legs. A Latex allergy and DNR. Scheduled for a cyberdectomy and complete elbow replacement tomorrow at 8 a.m. with Dr. Tanner.”
Rafael takes a breath and lowers the holopad. “That’s the last patient tonight. Any questions before I sign out, Lian?”
“Yeah, actually.” Lian tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “Did you say Dr. Tanner’s doing the surgery? I thought Dr. Blake usually handles cyberdectomies.” She leans in and winks. “And between you and me, Raffy, I’d rather fall asleep and wake up to his face than wrinkly old Dr. Tanner.”
He huffs a laugh then straightens. “Mr. Reese insisted on Tanner, so I sent the request to scheduling.” Even though Rafael disagreed. Blake has more experience. He’s the better choice. But Rafael kept his mouth shut. Like always.
Lian clicks her tongue. “His loss…That’s my only question, then.”
“All right.” Rafael signs out of the holopad with a press of his thumb. He waits for the screen to blink “VitaCorp Secure: Session Logged” before holding the device out. “Time to head home.”
Finally.
After ten hours on his feet, eight straight hours of sleep sounds heavenly. Maybe he’ll set his window screens to desert night skies again or the Milky Way—anything to drown out the morning sun and neon skyline of Midtown.