Read Final Empire for Free Online

like it.” Once my illustration was complete I held it up for his inspection, just inches from his face. It was a doodle of a hand – my hand, specifically – giving him the one-fingered salute. “How about this: I tell you nothing, and you can go suck a bag of dicks.”
    “You little shit,” he barked, lunging across the table. He grabbed two fistfuls of my t-shirt but I quickly shrugged him off, jamming a palm into his pasty face. I leaped to my feet and kicked the edge of the table, launching it forward into his sizable gut. He doubled over, letting out a woofing sound as he collapsed. I’d hoped the dry snap that echoed through the room was his ribcage.
    As I rapidly circled the table he reached for his sidearm. Still in the holster, his hand was tightened around the grip when my fist collided with his face, so hard my knuckles cracked on the bridge of his nose. Three additional shots to Wells’ temple knocked him unconscious.
    I peeled the handgun from his fingers, sheathed the weapon in his overcoat and aimed at the door, hoping the bundle of fabric – combined with the sound-proofing of the interrogation room – would muffle the shot.
    I fired.
    The doorknob spiraled off and clanged to the tiles at my feet. The door creaked open.
    I dropped the gun and stepped into the long empty hallway. My wrist-com was active once again, able to retrieve a signal. “Riot armor,” I commanded as quietly as possible, nearly pressing my lips to the device. I had only seconds before someone noticed what I’d done…I’d hoped it was enough time.
    I heard screaming from the front entrance, followed by gunshots. My swarm of robots cascaded through the police station’s front doors like an enormous metallic centipede, weaving through the work stations.
    The bots rounded the corner and slithered towards me. They crawled up my body, converging and solidifying into my armored suit. Every part of my body was protected, except for my head. A fact that became abundantly clear as Santiago burst into view, gun blazing.
    “Helmet!” I screamed, triggering several thousand of the bots to disengage from my chest and shoulder plates, re-connecting around my exposed face. A bullet grazed my unprotected ear, dotting the cream colored wall with blood. Another struck my chest plate, while a third bounced harmlessly off my face mask, directly over my left eye – striking the visor that had not been there a heartbeat before.
    I charged. Santiago emptied her fifteen-round clip into my armor with precision, never missing with a single shot. By the time her last round had fired I was an arm’s reach away, dropping a shoulder into her chest. The invaluable skills I’d learned during my stint as a high school football player were finally paying off.
    She bounced and rolled, slamming into a desk.
    I sprinted through the front office as one cop after another opened fire. I didn’t even blink. I just focused on the doors that led to the street, letting the bullets ping off of my armor, which was thankfully holding up to the onslaught.
    By the time I’d burst onto the street I was already screaming into my com. “Karin, where are you? I need a pick up now! ”
    “Oh, hey Mister Moxon,” my pilot’s cheerful voice replied, echoing through my helmet. “How did the opening go? Were they serving those little mini burgers? Or crackers with like ten different toppings piled on top of them?” Her question was followed by the sound of potato chips crunching and a cartoon blaring in the background.
    My eyes darted from side to side, searching for the least congested route. Both sides were packed solid with shiny yellow cabs, their hoods winking up flecks of bright autumn sunlight. I sprinted south towards my megatower, narrowly dodging frightened pedestrians on the busy sidewalk. “Trace London’s location and fly towards me,” I commanded. “And activate the magnets.”
    “Magnets?” She asked curiously. “You’re…wait, you want me to do