The shits busted into my studio like it was their own, but I had left a minefield waiting for them. After the lower guards heard what happened to their buddies, they were all rushing up. But it was too late; I had already leapt out the back entrance and was sprinting away for the Metro. Bullets ricocheted against the stone, and I could see the soldiers sprinting after me, their boots stained red from the blood of their comrades, but I knew they couldn't catch me. I hid under an abandoned bus until nightfall. I saw them go by, catching up on the fake trail I had the Soldier prepare weeks earlier. The Speaker has fled. That much the night knows.
I wanted to head to Rivet, or maybe the Citadel, or even Liberty City. No one knows my face, only my voice. But by the time I could reach anywhere, there'd be people at the very least listening for me. Fuck it. I'm heading for the Regulators.
Your plan was good. Our plan was good. But it wouldn't have worked. I know this for a fact. Our log has been monitored by Winton for months now, and he's already spread his men out into the countryside. They're looking for me. I'm waiting at some diner off of the Potomac. I'm not going to tell you which.
Some shit this turned into. But I know what's going on. Their charges aren't entirely bullshit; I touched on things I shouldn't have. The Eyes has proven to be a valuable asset. He's given me all I need. I'll meet you when I can.