Cypher (The Dragon's Bidding Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

following the Arkus-Indos
River, her underside clearing the sluggish, brown flow by scant centimeters.
The rainforest canopy arched above the waterway, forming a living tunnel that
scraped and splintered against her upper fuselage, threatening to amputate her
communications whiskers and dishes.
    “Are you certain a
vessel my size can make it through this?” Lizzy, the ship’s computer, asked
Fitz. “If those branches get any lower, I’ll have to become a submarine.”
    “The shuttle racer I
talked to swore he made it through here in a Lister Firecat. It’s not much
smaller than you. Granted, that was dry season, and the water level was lower,”
Another proximity warning shrilled. “A warship is a lot tougher than a racing
shuttle, so I figured you could force your way through.”
    “It’s not your paint job that’s getting scratched.” With her new Chimera-class attack shuttle
hull, Lizzy had become more conscious of her appearance. “If your pilot friend
had a functioning vessel, why not fly to his destination at altitude? It’s
simpler than blundering through this muddy wasteland.”
    “It’s a sport. They
race down rivers or through canyons to prove who’s the fastest.”
    “Sounds like a good way
to get yourself killed. And destroy a perfectly good ship.”
    “Hold up here,” Fitz
instructed the ship. “The vegetation thins out ahead. Our target is half a
klick away.”
    Her extra scrutiny of
the Warren’s alleys and tenements had paid off. Intelligence picked up the
trail of two augies, former Department of Internal Security assassins. When
they’d broken cover, they’d headed south to an abandoned lodge here in the
Kristavaar rainforest.
    She’d had the site
under surveillance for several days when a man fitting Janos Tritico’s
description arrived in a PS-5 courier ship, evidently the one he’d used to
escape from Baldark. Her satellite feed confirmed the vessel still sat on the
lodge’s landing pad, between a military cargo hauler and an atmospheric
shuttle.
    Fitz glanced at the
empty seat next to her. Wolf would have insisted on being here to capture
Tritico—if he’d known, but she’d made a point of not revealing her plans
yesterday when she kissed him goodbye before he went into the cyber-tank. He
would have used it as an opportunity to postpone his augmentation upgrades.
Again. Tomorrow night, when he awoke from the anesthetic, he’d find his old
friend Jan ensconced in a high security cell awaiting trial.
    Alone in the darkened
control room, Fitz watched the tactical feeds while the mission clock in the
corner of her inhead display counted down. A rambling structure, built in a
style a century out of date, sat at the edge of the river, trees pressing close
on the remaining three sides. Red icons representing three squads of Special
Forces converged on it, moving through the predawn darkness. She and her party
would be the final arm of the trap to snap shut.
    The counter hit zero,
flashing a message across her inhead that the SpecFor troops would be in
position now, awaiting her signal to launch their assault. At her mental
prompt, the console display transferred to her inhead.
    “Let’s go, Lizzy. Take
out those ships and put us down on the beach.” Fitz felt the thrusters kick in
as she stood and shouldered a pulse rifle. Her knees felt stiff and achy from
sitting curled up in the seat so long. She injected a hit of painkiller from
her onboard pharmacopeia, and headed aft.
    On the landing pad
below, the three ships disappeared in an eruption of flame and whirling shards,
the go sign for Major Baltasar to launch his offensive. Since Lizzy’s brain box
had been removed from the old wrecked freighter and transferred into the
shuttle, her personality had taken on a decidedly bloodthirsty slant.
    The ship flared hard
and settled on the sand in front of the building.
    Fitz checked the ammo
counter on the slug thrower. With Wolf in the tank, she carried his pistol on
this mission.