"-and then his Choomba just exploded!"
"Exploded?"
"His brain burst, like a flesh filled balloon"
"That's fucking gross man"
"Yeah, I know but- hey… get a load of Mr Crimson over here..."
I was leaking.
My hand remained clamped to my side, a feeble attempt at keeping the blood in my battered body.
That didn't matter though. These two gonks on the stairwell didn't matter.
Nothing fucking mattered.
Cept killing him.
"Move" I growled, stepping right between them and their stupidly wide eyes. Living in Night City and hanging around the afterlife but you act like you've never seen a little blood? Pathetic.
They parted like a Joytoy's legs, letting me hobble my pitiful way down the stairs.
In the grand scheme of things, clinging to life as I was, I really wish those Saka' assholes were better shots.
I had spent a whole night dodging bullets just to catch one in the ribs.
At the bottom of the stairs I take a right, past the shitty trash and vending machines and behold: the gates of the Afterlife.
Manned by some nameless shitstain bouncer.
He assessed the situation pretty quickly. I could tell by the way his head dipped down, presumably to allow him to properly gaze at the wound in my side.
Instinctively his hand came up to ward me off. The man's a professional after all, he knows not to let me in even before he'll make me verbally aware of that fact.
And then his big stupid mouth opens up, trying to keep up with his neanderthal brain.
"Woah there buddy, you can't-"
A fist to the face cut him short. The force of the punch rocked him backwards, where he smacked his stupid head against the door to the Afterlife. A moment later, he crumpled into a sad limp pile on the floor.
The door opened.
"Excuse me" I grunted politely, stepping over him and into the music filled morgue-turned-bar.
But I wasn't here for the music, the booze, or the drunk and high patrons.
I was here for those that conducted business upon these grounds, with one name in particular.
"Rogue!" I shouted. Roared is more like it. I'm getting a bit dizzy.
And now all of their eyes are on me. Even Claire, the barmaid, is gazing at me like some starstruck gonk. Or was she actually just staring at me in abject horror.
I ignored her and walked deeper into the ex-morgue.
People are ducking out of the way of my path, my steps slowly deteriorating into a shamble.
Tucked away at the back is my goal, now standing and at attention. Her guards are up and present, weapons at the ready and vaguely pointing toward me.
Rogue, Night City's legendary fence, Fixer, and high tier biz provider was on her feet with a look of utter bewilderment splayed across her features.
Her once black hair was now grey, hanging off the top of her head and to the side.
But the signature yellow shirt she usually had was now exchanged for a black jacket and what I presumed was a white tank top.
"Rogue" I growled, stepping forward for a second but stopped as the once vaguely gesturing weapons became level with my eye line.
"Easy guy"
Night City's best fixer was calm, level, and in control of all her men and their guns. She also probably didn't want to have to deal with gunning down a dying man, and making one hell of a racket in the Afterlife.
A place like this thrives on a need to know basis and lack of NCPD attention after all.
"So-"
"Is he here?" I cut her off. Something that seems to get some itchy fingers out of a few of her boys. More are coming into the room now and surrounding me.
And I'm aware of the music finally being off. Quite a peaceful feeling to finally have that ringing noise gone from my ears.
Rogue blinks, looks me up and down and crosses her arms.
"Who?"
I don't waste a second.
"Dexter DeShawn"
The gaze turned cold, her eyes shifting slightly before her expression disappeared into a blank look of neutrality. Rogue had intelligent eyes, a quality not easily definable, but knowable in how it felt like I was being flayed beneath her.
She took me up and down, side to side, and every little detail my raggled appearance could give. As easy as breathing she could have me zeroed. I had stormed the afterlife, approached her threateningly and covered in blood while screaming her name.
However, I was without a gun, obviously delusional, and the blood I was covered in was clearly my own.
So undoubtedly, and the only reason I was probably still alive, was that the queen of the Afterlife was interested.
Perhaps just slightly, but any amount of interest is still some interest.
Her eyes narrow momentarily.
Something's clicked.
Her cocky expression returns.
"You were at Konpeki Plaza"
"Where's dex" I don't bother gracing her with an affirmative. It wasn't a question after all.
Rogue was juggling her thoughts, if the hesitation was any indication.
"Why"
"I'm gonna zero him"
Rogue snorted at the bluntness of my response.
Yet my face remained like steel. The brief spike of her amusement died when my features didn't shift.
"Shit, you're not joking, are you kid?"
I shook my head.
"Where is he"
Rogue's head tilted, before she gestured to her men to lower her their firearms. A beat later and they all complied.
"Supposing I tell you" her arms crossed over her chest, contemplating "what's in it for me?"
I'd come to regret this later, I knew it. But it was fairly obvious to myself that I didn't have the eddies for this. I wasn't pushing nearly enough capital to trade for this information, and rogue isn't an acceptor of an "I owe you" kinda person.
"Anything"
That was the one world that would rule the rest of my life in Night City. But it was going to be worth it.
I'm going to make it worth it.
My list started with Dexter DeShawn, but it sure as hell didn't end there.
If Rogue was interested before, she was fascinated now. After all, it wasn't every day that fresh meat just turned up in front of her. Beaten to a pulp, bleeding, and full of rage were only minor concerns.
She knew about determination, she knew about persistence, but by looking at me, I can only imagine the opportunities she could see.
"You got a name?"
Later I'd learn.
"V"
Rogue's eyes glowed red for a moment.
A pause.
"He's in Heywood, lower suburbs"
I turned around and began walking away.
"Where are you going kid?"
I glanced over my shoulder.
"Ripperdoc, then Heywood"
Rogue snorted but let me go with a wave.
"Sort out your biz" she turned away and sat back down in her throne, "after that, you work for me"
I grunted but didn't argue.
Walking in and out of the afterlife like that, being tagged for the job at Konpeki, that was the start of my story. The real start.
This was the beginning of a tidal wave of blood. I'm not gonna settle for anything less.
"Hey Vik... hope I'm not... disturbing anything"
Viktor Vector, an accomplished Ripperdoc and the occasional emergency surgeon, hadn't even heard the man approach.
But he recognised the voice of the new arrival.
"V" Vik spun in his chair to face the now open grate into his shop, "I've been watching the news, what the fuck happened-"
As V crossed the threshold into the shop, Vik finally got a good look in the red dim light of the entrance
The young merc was covered in blood, and clutching at his side.
His blue eyes were locked with Viktors.
"Jesus, V!" Vik stood up and rushed to the man.
As soon as he got a good grip, hanging V's arm over his shoulders, he felt the man's weight sink into his side with a groan.
"Misty!" Vik shouted, knowing his voice would carry into her Esoterica, "I need a hand!"
A gurgle and a chuckle came from the now slumped head of the Merc.
"Worse than it looks.. I promise…"
Training and general medical knowledge kicked in.
"Stay awake kid" the retired boxer snapped, trying his best to haul V to the operating table.
V groaned and his head lolled to the side.
"Kid!"
"Vik?"
The doc snapped his head, taking in the wide eyed Misty. She was staring right at V, fear in her gaze.
"Misty"
She still didn't look at him.
"Misty!"
She jolted, finally noticing Vik.
"Help me get him on the table"
Misty hurried over, taking V's other side and lifting him onto Vik's operating table.
"Go get my emergency kit and some blood bags" Vik's hands were already moving, slicing open the red stained suit V had on.
"Where's Jackie?"
"Now Misty!"
Vik didn't see her scurry off, his attention on the delirious V. In a few moments he got a clear view of the wound and damage done to him.
"Fuck" Vik whispered, taking a second.
Bullet was still in him, no exit wound.
"Jackie" V gasped, his eyes blinking slowly.
"Easy kid" Vik tapped his arm, before injecting a needle into his arm, "you're going to be alright"
The anesthesia did its work.
As soon as V was slumbering, Vik got to work.
Misty showed up briefly, dropped the supplies Vik had asked for near the table, and then hung back.
The Ripperdoc was focused on his patient, and ignored her presence.
All the bruising was minor. The few broken bones could be addressed later.
The bullet holes were priority.
Vik was going to kill him when he woke up.
I'm back at the Plaza.
"Get up"
I could see him, the borged out monster with a heavy machine gun in his arms.
Him?
No, that cyber fuck couldn't be classified as a human.
"Get up"
I never saw it coming, until Jackie Welles body checked me behind a fallen slab of concrete.
He had knocked me out the way.
I hear the gun firing.
"Get up"
There's an awful silence. The figure that stood, collapses so slowly.
I see the corpse fall back next to me, eyes wide and a torso chock-full of holes...
"Get up!"
….
Who said that?
I sit up with a shout, nearly bolting to my feet as an arm pins me down.
"Easy kid! Easy! It's me!"
I blink. The lights in the room are so damn bright. Somehow I relax, laying back down on the cold metal table.
It's an operating table.
"What-" I coughed, the arm that held me down coming away from me.
My eyes adjust, ever so slowly, to the space around me.
I'm in Vik's shop, with the proprietor seated beside me, a big ol' frown on his face.
"Vik"
So I had made it back to the shop. Fuck, that mean's he probably had me under the knife.
"Kid"
I blink.
"How long have I been out?"
Vik snorts, "few hours at most. I had just finished taping you up"
"Thanks for that"
My next moves are slow, as I pull myself off the operating table and onto my feet.
The doctor exclaims, "stay down kid, you've-"
Vik nearly lunges forward again to stop me from getting up, because after all he had just finished putting me back together, but my words catch him off guard.
"Jackie's dead"
I don't like the look on Vik's face. Stunned wasn't something I believed Vik to be capable of emoting. The sudden processing and then pained look, that was the man I knew.
"No" he whispered.
Something in the weakness of his voice, the knot in his eyebrows…
The fury in my recently mended body began boiling up again.
"Yup" I growl, patting myself off, "am I good?"
This knock's Vik out of his daze.
"Good?" he repeats, perplexed.
"Good to go"
Before Mr Vector can reply, another voice chimes in.
"Go where?"
Oh no.
I turn to her, Misty, standing off to the side of the room, having been quietly watching us I presume.
She'd also heard what I said.
About Jackie.
"Misty-"
"Go where?" she repeats, harder and more focused.
I sigh, roll my shoulder and look her dead in the eye.
"I'm going to kill someone"
Misty didn't react.
She asked "Is this the someone that got Jackie?"
I felt a twitch in my jaw.
"The fixer who gave us the Job"
"That isn't what I asked" Misty began, but I was quick to cut her off.
"Adam Smasher killed Jackie right in front of me Misty" the image passed through my head, and my blood boiled, "he's got a nice little spot on my list-"
"List?" Vik interjected.
"-and when I get to him, he'll die too"
Misty didn't say anything besides nodding.
I turned to Vik.
"Am I good to go?"
The doc leant back in his chair, really taking a good look at me now.
"You're starting to tangle with some of Night City's legends V, you get that right?"
I nod.
"They're known and powerful people you're involved with now V... And I don't think your list stops at your Fixer and Smasher, does it?"
I just stare at him.
"I figured" Vik grunts, taking his glasses off to rub at his eyes, "you're getting in deep here, Kid"
I feel stiff, and roll my shoulder to get the kink out.
"I know"
I turn around and walk away, barking once over my shoulder.
"Thanks Vik. I owe you"
Viktor and Misty watch me go.
Just on my way out, I barely heard his voice from behind me.
"Take care kid"
And I'm gone.
In a short amount of time, I'm parked outside a building, an old auto shop factory that's changed hands too many times to still be functioning.
Rogue had sent me the address, along with the request that doubled as an order to meet, after I'd "tidied up my biz".
The drive here had been uneventful, and circling around the block hadn't given me any new insights.
Shut building, two exits that I'd trapped.
This was going to be a piece of cake.
I'm just sitting in the car, watching the building with a gun in my lap.
I'd counted my ammo, checked my body armor, and fucked with the targeting connection port in my hand more than I had in the past week.
All this stress confused me, because it didn't make any sense at all for me to be feeling like this.
Nervous.
That's what I was.
Fuck.
My grip on the wheel tightened, my fingers digging deep into the metal.
Suddenly, it was all gone.
I exploded out the car, gun by my side and a purpose in my step. The sheer surface of the building was closed, with only a few windows overlooking the street from the second floor. It was still kind of dark out, but I couldn't see anyone peering down at me.
A quick check with my Kiyoshi eye reveals no targets.
But I do notice how the large shutters to the auto shop are still powered, along with the closely attached security system.
In a moment, I have camera access.
From within the building, I can clearly see how many people are in the room. There's old materials and metals all over the shop, two recently autopsied vehicles, and strewn about mess of all kinds.
These kinds of places turn into Scav haunts all the time.
But the only living souls I can see are numbered to five, and they ain't the psychotic borgs I'm used to dealing with.
Between four bodyguards is the fat son of a bitch himself, Dexter Deshawn, blasting off to somebody on a call.
"-was I supposed to know?I sorted the job out and expected the pay. Smooth was the promise, and instead these two jokers light up Sab-"
I can see my targets, I know where they stand.
The shutters have their open command toggled.
For a split second, I enjoy the brief surprise on the closest two men, turning to the now open world.
My gun kicks twice, and both sink to the floor, their strings cut.
"FUCK!"
Blood and cranial matter had exploded out into the face of the third man. Stepping quickly into the Building I cut him down with a hail of lead. He had been desperately trying to clear his eyesight.
The other guard gets time to duck and huddle for cover, instinctively taking Dex down with him.
I drop the clip from my Unity, sliding in a new one as I approach the huddled men behind their cover, the nearly scrapped car.
My gun is up and pointed toward them.
"DEX!" I roar.
The last bodyguard moves up, attempting to stand and shoot me.
He collapses back with a new breathing hole, gurgling.
Rounding the car, I find him, huddled with his golden forearms up, trying to protect himself from what's coming.
"It was just Biz!" he tried.
I didn't say anything.
A million words went through my head, but none of them felt right.
I just shot him in the head, one round, clean through the skull.
He slumped to the side, his eyes wide, revealing the mess I'd pushed out of his skull.
I took a second to look around me, to revel in what I had just done. After the moment passed, I holstered my gun and walked out the way I had come in.
The walk to my car was lighter than I expected.
I slid into the front seat, grasped the wheel, and drove in complete silence back to the Afterlife.
The NCPD would find the bodies and security footage within six hours.
After all, they were looking for the last surviving criminal at Konpeki Plaza, the man who had supposedly murdered Saburo Arasaka.
"Back so soon" Rogue couldn't help but comment, "you've either got talent, or you couldn't get it done"
The Merc, V, had approached her table steadily. There was some kind of scuffle at the door, before he had cut through the usual Afterlife crowd.
He was also nursing his jaw.
Rogue waved him through her guard, and the Merc walked right up and planted himself across from her.
"It's been settled" was all he said, still rubbing at his jaw.
"Dex give you that?" she motioned to the bruise that was forming on his face.
"The bouncer. Didn't take too kindly into my barging right through him"
Rogue laughed, "you've got balls kid. Most people don't storm the Afterlife with demands, those that do don't live very long"
V grunted.
Rogue took the time to study him. There was a light dusting of facial hair across his features, gruff and thuggish as they were.
He still had the shine of youth on him, but he seemed weary. Probably a street kid.
His short cropping of hair was messy and dirty, needing any kind of shower it could.
Blue eyes rimmed by some dark markings gave him a killer stare, and if Rogue had been nearly anyone else she might have been intimidated.
She could also note the lines of ink that trailed up his neck.
Rogue would bet money on him being a street kid. But now it was time to get back to business.
"You work for me now. Any gigs or work you get from anyone else, you need to run it by me. I don't want you treading on my toes" she lifted her glass and took a strong pull of tequila.
"But don't worry about side work too much, you'll soon find how busy working for me will keep you"
The kid just nodded.
"So are you just a B and E specialist? Because I've got a lot on my plate that needs working through"
V started listing off his skills.
Rogue was beginning to like this no-nonsense Merc.
"Retrieval, recovery, demolition work" came easily, but he paused before admitting, "I'm good at stealing, but I'm better at killing"
The stare he had been giving Rogue, took on a new edge.
Something about how he said it, "better at killing", drove a whisper up her spine. This man called V, who had quite suddenly turned up in her world, was not some small time passer by.
He had something.
Johnny would have called a spark of greatness.
Rogue settled for mental instability.
"Well then I suppose you could handle some problems for me" she opened a small container on the table, containing two shards which she brandished before him, "I'll even let you pick"
V eyed them both, slowly, before looking back at her, "there a difference between the two?"
Rogue shook her head, "Targets. I need them zero'd, quickly"
V didn't miss a beat.
"How quick?"
Rogue took a second, idly twisting her glass as she considered the Merc.
"A weeks time"
V nodded.
In reality, the two targets that Rogue was giving him were set to testify to some pretty nasty stuff. Some corpo lawsuit that someone wanted all shut up. The thing is, the trial was two months from now.
She wanted to see if V was as good at killing as he claimed to be.
"Am I being paid at all?"
Rogue nodded, but her smile was wolfish.
"You'll be paid a standard commission for each job, enough to pay your bills"
And all he did was nod again before reaching forward, his palm out.
Rogue cocked her head in confusion, the unasked 'which one?' hanging in the air.
"Both. I'll contact you when I'm done"
He was completely serious, staring at her dead in the eyes as he waited patiently for the shards.
Rogue handed them to him, and the Merc stood, wished her a good day, and walked away.
The first target was easy. Some Netwatch contractor, got his fingers too deep into some project and was blowing the whistle.
I couldn't care less for the details, besides where this mongrel was holded up.
Corpo fuck was still in his nicely paid apartment, with some new additions to his security. A rotating team of 12 guards was the most annoying part. Bastard even paid for two very Preem security droids that flanked him at all times.
In the end, it would just divulge into a rain of bullets and a well placed grenade. The guards wouldn't be a problem, just annoying to have to kill so many people to lob a few explosives into the tightly packed apartment.
If all went according to plan, the target would be mincemeat, the bots wouldn't even get a chance to look my way, and I could really start focusing on the second target.
The second target being the problematic one.
Whatever this project was, it apparently had street ties.
This woman was a Valentino, somehow involved in whatever Netwatch was doing in the neighbourhood. I couldn't care less, but Zeroing someone important to the gangs was never good for your health, especially in the case of the Valentino's.
Wait...
"Fuck"
The curse slipped out without my consent.
But both jobs would also be conducted in one day. These two gonks were involved in the same Corpo case, meaning if one got whacked the security for the other would get beefed up.
"Fucking shit"
Hard to do… but not impossible.
So it'd be the Valentino idiot first, then the Netwatch contractor. A bit of a sneak job for the ganger, then a blaze of fucking gun fire and explosibe ordinance.
Quiet and loud.
Or Loud and Loud, knowing my luck.
And their locations meant one straight drive between the two locations, about 15 mins if I gunned it.
The contractor was being kept near the docs, west side of Heywood, lower Wellsprings in a relatively small compartment complex.
Misses Valentino could be found in Santo Domingo.
I started my car, my brain flipping through the essential information again and again. A plan was roughly beginning to form.
As soon as I got this done for Rogue, I'd have some time to focus on hunting down that borged out fucker, Adam Smasher.
"One step at a time" I mumbled, flipping through the radio as I pulled out into traffic.
Saint Domingo first.
I stuff the next corpse in the gap between two bins. Dusting my hands off while taking a quick peak around me, I can safely get started.
These two had been an unfortunate expense, but in my defense they had come investigating the small amount of noise I was making.
A lovely little detail Rogue had included was a floor plan for the old shithole this ratta was hiding in. Miss Valentino was in the old factory, hanging out with her gonks on the lower floor.
But none of the systems for the structure were independent of one another, meaning even access to one got me into all of it.
My focus shifted to a control feature document from the shard, that I was currently splicing into.
A little Daemon here and there, and I gained access to the filtration system from the general control panel outside the building.
The two Valentino's I'd done away with had heard me tinkering away.
Nosy bastards, I idly think, preparing the system.
In 30 seconds the Oxygen would stop being vented to the lower floor, and instead have Carbon Dioxide pushed back into it.
They'd start getting lightheaded and ill, a few might die, most would pass out, and some will escape the room.
15 seconds.
Stepping away from the systems panel I walk down the alleyway and slowly to the nearest doorway.
I'm going in relatively loud.
I check my Unity, holster it, and raise my baby, a modified Militech M251s. The nearly eight inch suppressor did a fantastic fucking job at keeping the weapon as quiet as a whisper.
Wasn't meant for continuous firing unfortunately.
The rest of my kit and my explosive were still in the car. Didn't want to waste the resources or time. If the Valentino's here were on to my presence this would turn into a gun battle. And I didn't often put myself in situations I had to shoot my way out of.
For a moment, I was back at Konpeki, firing in every direction.
Never again.
I would never find myself at a disadvantage ever again.
5 seconds.
I will never be at another's mercy again.
4 seconds.
I will not let this city kill me.
3 seconds.
My hands tightened around my gun.
2 seconds.
I'm going to kill everyone responsible for Jackie's death
1 second.
The door's unlocked, courtesy of a few extra touches to the security system for this villa-eque factory.
Another personal touch is the positional lighting I have tracked to my position. Any access space or side corridor now had its lighting linked to my presence, meaning total black out for the ones above or around me.
I don't usually use this kind of tech or Daemons, but a lack of light means any security cams not outfitted for night time conditions, wouldn't be able to easily capture my features.
For the Valentino's, I hope they'd never know my face.
Killing all of them in the building by just fumigating it would be inviting torment upon my head. Kill a few, and remain faceless while doing it and I could prevent a lot of problems for myself.
By the time I'm through the doorway and into one of the many corridors of the sprawling facility, for the next two minutes the O2 was being exchanged for its carbon brethren.
My gun snaps up as a figure walks through the corridor adjacent to mine.
Valentino guard, looking at a magazine.
He stops in the intersection, slowly looking up from his media into the pitch black corridor.
His eyes are locked with mine, and the barrel of the gun that hangs beneath our eye line.
"El Segador" he whimpered.
I put a round through his eye.
Stepping over his corpse, my blackout area follows me through the next few bends and turns. Fortunately, no one else gets in my way.
The next turn leads me to the side stairway.
Gently, I open the door and peer down the steps.
No shouting, but also no conversation either.
Quietly I advance, taking a step at a time with my rifle partially raised. At the bottom the door is shut. Pushing my ear to it gives me nothing.
Time to take a chance.
Swiftly, the door is open, the space beyond it now revealed to me.
The air cycler had just switched back.
"Damn"
There's about 20 bodies on the ground, nearly unmoving. All of them, I'd gotten all of them.
Lucky bit of work.
Taking great care not to step on any of them, I begin working my way through the room, studying the faces of those on the floor.
Getting to ignore the guys makes this take half a minute.
I find her, crumpled on the ground with beautiful dark hair and a scary as hell eye implant. She's got classic Valentino ink all over her arms.
Call me and oldfashioned guy, but I fucking hate it when it's a woman.
One round, through the head. Her body jolts slightly, and those nearest to me twitch or stir.
I hate it, but it doesn't stop me.
It takes two minutes to leave the building and get into my car.
Next stop, Heywood.
"That was all I could find" the bespeckled face was knit up and focused, "which is far less than I am used to being able to collect"
"Hmm" Rogue pondered aloud, "thank you, Alex, I'll still send you some Eddies for the effort"
"My pleasure" the man bowed and left her booth.
V.
Alex, one of her many intelligence sources throughout Night City, had brought her everything he could get on her mystery Merc.
Within a 24 hour period he'd completely shook up her world, and even after sending some water down the pipes to find where it'd come out…
Well, she'd got answers, but nothing substantial.
Oldest known piece of information had come from Sabastian Ibarra, Padre, from Heywood.
Some drifter kid turned up one day, everyone figured he came from Pacifica, but the boy never confirmed it.
Supposedly Jackie Welles knew who he was.
Who V really was.
But Jackie Welles had recently passed. Turns out the Welles boy had been the other pair of boots on the ground at Konpeki Plaza, Dex's job.
Rogue couldn't make heads or tails of it.
The kid had talent, that was for sure. But how'd no one else notice it? The boy had been rubbing elbows with Padre, a known fixer, an entity within Night City. Surely that man could see the effectiveness of the blue eye'd Merc with no past.
But Dex had ended up being V's ticket to the Afterlife.
A failed job and serious blood loss.
Rogue wasn't going to pry. Not to say she wasn't curious, but she wouldn't go digging if the Merc didn't want her to.
She'd talk to Sebastian tomorrow.
"Rogue"
The queen of the afterlife looked up to the guard, now gesturing toward the nearest television set.
A building in Heywood was on fire.
"Massive blaze kills 13! NCPD suspect foul play" was the brash and bold title.
That was the building where-
Rogue was receiving a call, the icon of a lone tree dominating the upper left corner of her vision.
"Should I be supplying myself with weapons and equipment, or will there be any compensation for spent gear?"
It was V, clear as ever, bluntly speaking to her without a care in the world.
Honestly, it was refreshing.
"Grenades and the more explosive ordinance I can cover. Anything a bit too expensive is on you"
He grunted. He'd be content with the vague answer for now, but she'd hash things out with him later.
"I suppose you've seen the news?
"Very brash, but just the kind of message I was hoping for. When you get back from Santo Domingo-"
"Both the jobs are done. I'll be at the Afterlife tomorrow for my pay and more work"
Rogue narrowed her eyes.
"I've been slack with you since you first stumbled your way in here, but speak like that to me again and you'll regret it"
His response was… peculiar...
"Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am"
It wasn't mocking, or petulant.
Rogue was feeling a headache beginning to build, "we'll talk tomorrow"
"Will do"
Rogue hung up.
So he'd managed to zero Jessica as well. Considering the gang nature of the hit there'd be no police report for a few days, hell maybe even ever.
The Valentino's would keep the situation under wraps for good, or until it suited them to air their grievances.
Rogue trusted that V wouldn't let his actions trace back to her, and thus himself, but she would be prepared to burn him in a moment's notice.
In a moment, light flashed.
A message arrived, from a private number.
….oh.
'Well well well, what's this?'