Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,86
her right hand. Then she reached out and, swallowing hard, tugged the black box from his belt.
“Because if you stay here, you’ll get clean and, after that, have a future.” Caledonia turned the box over in her hand as she stood once more. With a twist of the lid, it popped open to reveal a keypad. She returned her gaze to Cepheus. “But if you leave and follow Lir, you’ll lose your drug anyway, and then you’ll see what happens when Lir doesn’t get what he wants from you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
There was still so much Caledonia didn’t know. Who had survived the attack at the gun towers? How many civilians remained in the city? Had Lir taken Slipmark as his own? Was he rallying the troops there for a fresh attack? And now what was happening to the Bullets left behind at the Net? Were they as close to withdrawal as the Bullets here? Or were they already in their sweats?
She’d had a plan for discovering the answer to each one, but that plan was gone now. If Cepheus was starting to show signs of withdrawal, the same was true for every other Bullet in the Holster. Caledonia’s claim to leadership was valid but it was also tenuous. There was no time to lose.
“Pi,” she said, letting her focus settle on the most immediate threat. “Go back to the Luminous and put the crew on alert. I need you to direct Tassos’s Bullets to the prison without raising suspicion.” With a sharp nod, Pisces was gone, and Caledonia turned to Oran. “I need you to find Sledge and ready the prison. It’s . . . north from here?” she asked, picturing Heron’s map of the city.
Oran nodded, his eyes marking every one of her cuts and bruises. “Straight north from here,” he confirmed.
“Meet us there,” she said, ignoring the concern in his eyes as she turned to the three Bullets, who appeared to be awaiting orders. From her. “Pick him up.”
As the Bullets raised Tassos’s body between them, Oran moved off at a brisk jog and Cepheus walked at Caledonia’s side. Together, they turned north, following an unbending road. Cepheus glanced over her shoulder once, gaze lingering on Tassos, but she made no sound of remorse. Her eyes remained dry as they passed through the unfamiliar streets.
In the time it took to cross the city, Caledonia had considered half a dozen new problems. From making repairs without leaving her defenses weak to rebuilding the gun towers and guarding a landward flank; from managing the civilians still inside the city to treating her new wounds. These were problems she couldn’t even begin to consider solving until she’d taken care of the hundreds of Bullets on the brink of withdrawal.
One problem, however, she could solve immediately.
Without slowing her stride, she popped the flap of Tassos’s remote trigger and pressed the code Nettle had discovered. Part of her regretted that she was too far to see the explosion for herself. But she could imagine how it would bloom against the southern seas, vibrant as a bale blossom. Soon, she’d sail out and confirm the destruction, but for now it was enough to know the rig was gone.
“That didn’t work,” Cepheus said, interrupting her quiet moment of victory.
“What do you mean?” Caledonia snapped the little latch shut, irritation making her sharp. “Tassos lied?”
“Not exactly. There are more bombs on the rig than anyone knows, but the range on that remote is limited.” Cepheus glanced over her shoulder toward the Bullets carrying their fallen Fiveson. “He only let people think it would work regardless of where he was. Tassos never expected to be far enough to need a strong signal. Thought he’d die on that Net.”
Caledonia considered the small black box in her hand. Disappointment perched in the back of her throat, and as much as she wanted Cepheus to be lying, she knew in her gut this was the truth. “Why are you telling me?” she asked.
The sounds of their footsteps against the stone street filled the space between them. A frown flashed across Cepheus’s face and she squeezed her lips tight before conceding, “I owe Pisces a debt.”
Caledonia thought she caught the hint of affection in the young woman’s tone, in the fond way her eyes pinched when she spoke of Pisces.
“How close do I need to be?” Caledonia asked.
“Close.” Cepheus shrugged. “A mile and a half.”
With a sigh, Caledonia clipped the remote to her waistband. Another problem for later.