Do I Wanna Know?
The engine purred as the speed opened up, the street lights flashing by in the dark of midnight, like near-miss comets or lasers in a sci-fi BD. The crys-dome windows enhanced the views and highlighted best paths to drive like the road itself was marked rather than the screen.
The forces as the car sped up, slowed and turned around the corners, then sped up again got the blood pumping all their own. They would have been enough to move your body from one side of the vehicle to the other, if it wasn't for the racing-style seatbelts and seats. The semi-auto gearbox performed perfectly, with no hitch in the smooth ride, no knee-jerk loss of power like some of the Quadras had.
The Rayfield Caliburn model of 2077, was perhaps the single greatest road-legal car ever made, beaten only by the true racing thoroughbreds and its own successor in the 2078 model. This particular one was a little slower, but not by much, and there were reasons for it.
As V manually drove the masterpiece of art and science around the bends of North Oak's hills, descending into Night City, he realised he had missed it more than he had thought.
It was definitely not a car for the nomad life.
On the trail, you might have to use roads with blacktop so chewed up, it was like riding over broken glass, or straight cross-country. You could be escaping, or chasing prey, or making a rendezvous in time to complete a contract, either way, you couldn't hesitate because your tyres were likely to burst or the aerodynamic underside of your car would get banged up.
Still, for in-city and intercity driving, where there was smooth enough surfaces and street cleaning, it was a driver's dream.
"V, I never did ask when you left it with me," Kerry started, in the single passenger seat to the side, "Where the hell did you get this thing? No offence, but I would've put the Javelina outside of your price range, never mind this baby."
Fair comment, given that Kerry was a billionaire.
"Found it," V said, "Inside a container, in an unfinished interstate tunnel, alongside a bunch of guns, grenades and armour."
And a whole load of Raffen Shiv.
"You're fuckin' kidding me," Kerry replied, "It just dropped into your lap?"
"If killing like twenty guys is the same thing as it being dropped in my lap," V quipped, "First gig Panam and me pulled, we got her Warhorse back from some Wraiths, then hunted down the rest of the pack in the tunnel. It was their base. Think this thing belonged to someone who had fucked with them. Think the base might have originally been his too."
"His?" Kerry asked.
"Some corpo who decided to fight violent crime," V laughed, still finding it funny after all this time, "Thought that with enough money, he could buy the chrome and iron to take on the worst this city has to offer."
"Like a comic book character?," Kerry said, "Poor, stupid bastard."
"His loss," V shrugged, "My gain."
Sliding the car on through the last curve before the city turnpike, he planted his foot on the accelerator and pulled onto the near empty triple lane highway without any effort at all.
"'nother thing I haven't asked you yet," Kerry said, "What's your plan? Hit Arasaka, sure, but how? Won't they see that shit coming?"
V wanted to laugh. There was no way in hell they'd see what Panam could come up with coming. There was no way they could see Alt's intel coming either.
The only predictable element for Arasaka was V himself... and he had a plan of his own; to be as utterly unpredictable as possible.
"If we were coming straight at them, they'd see it," V replied, "But that's not the plan, don't worry about it."
"So are you going to tell me what is?" Kerry continued, his voice rising, "You don't trust me? After all we've been through?"
"Not about trust," V said, slowing down before taking an off-ramp to the destination, so the car wouldn't take flight, "Arasaka won't risk attacking you openly, same way they never just up and shot Johnny in the street. But they could fuck with your career if they found out you knew our plan, our real plan."
"Fuck V, after this Us Cracks thing, there's no way MSM ditch me at Arasaka's say-so," Kerry said, "A joint live album's already in the oven, Blue's working on the solo stuff like I said before, and I've got my own stuff."
V considered the points... Kerry did know his own record label corp far better than V did. MSM weren't exactly high priority for Arasaka counterintel at any point, and when they crossed his desk, it was always handed off to someone lower down the chain to handle. Maybe the rockerboy was right. But still...
"Too risky, Kerry," he repeated.
"Just fuckin' tell me, V," Kerry insisted, "Else you and your cowboy can go hang elsewhere. Your BD chick can stay, because I feel for her, but you'll be out on your ass. I'm all the way in or not at all, got it?"
V wanted to chew the arrogant son of a bitch out. Talk about entitlement. But he quickly calmed down. Kerry not going so far as to put Judy's life in danger helped, but the whole 'deflect Arasaka' idea relied on Kerry' cooperation.
"Christ, okay, fuck," V said, "You already sorta heard it already. We're gonna make a lot of noise, the three of us. You, me and Judy. Parties, concerts, maybe even some jobs, all for a BD that Judy's supposed to be editing. We use that as cover to get a crew together... No, a fuckin' army, more like. Then we hit Arasaka with everything we got, grab what we want and my cure, get outta dodge."
Kerry shut up for a second, leaving only the beautiful engine noise to fill the air. V waited. He knew the story he had told so far wouldn't be enough to satisfy.
"Bit light on details," Kerry complained, "While you're doing all this shit, what's Panam doing?"
"Trying to unite the seven nomad nations to help us," V replied immediately, "Like I said, we're putting together a damn army. And that's not all. We've got Alt and Johnny from beyond the Blackwall on the hook too."
"Johnny's involved?" Kerry asked, his voice reaching another register higher, "That son of a bitch is still alive, as an AI, and he hasn't given me a damn call?! After all we've been through!"
"It's not really Johnny," V assured him, turning onto the city grid at long last, "It's... like a Johnny puppet with all his memories, controlled by Alt, who isn't the woman you knew either. They're both still in there, way more than the AI would admit. But it's not them. So chill."
The man seemed to collapse back into his seat, out of V's peripheral vision.
"I don't have a lot of friends, V," Kerry said, softly now, "If I could speak to the ones I've lost again, I would want to. Even if it's only now and then, y'know? Been around a long time, done things I regret, so have they."
"No offence Kerry, while I sympathise and all, that's not my problem," V sighed, "I'm dying, remember? My family, my nation has just been burned by Arasaka. We've got limited time before we're dead in the water, and probably no time at all after that until most of us are literally dead."
"Shit V, I know that," Kerry replied, "Sorry."
"You've got Johnny under your skin, big time," V said, "Seeing him, speaking to him, it ain't gonna help. Especially now seeing he's pretty much a ghost, and not just one floating around in my head either."
"I know," Kerry repeated, "We all live in his shadow, that's the real problem. Every single one of us from Samurai. We've been trying to forget him, outdo him or get away from him ever since. Failing at it too, really. Or maybe that's just me."
"Well, you did organise a Samurai comeback and the others did come runnin'," V said, "Maybe it isn't just you. And to be honest, I'm counting on you here. We're probably going to need them all again, play another gig."
"Bigger than a small bar?" Kerry said, smile returning, "Sounds like a whole pile of fun, but the others ain't going to go for it. Can't hide that something's up, since we're going to be pissing on Arasaka so obviously, and the rest of us aren't like Johnny on some crazed anti-corpo crusade."
"There's a difference between Johnny and me," V said, "I am not going to go charging in, without a real plan or with only a few with me. I have Panam to do the planning, she's as close to a damn prophet as you can get. We've got intel from a honest-to-god Blackwall AI. This isn't amateur hour shit."
"It's more than Johnny ever had," Kerry admitted, "But you're still light on the details. I mean, let's say you get this army, which doesn't seem possible. What are you going to do with it?"
"Those details will depend on who we do get," V said, "If we get far fewer than we want, it'll be a quick in and out. On the other hand, if we convince many people, I intend to throw Arasaka into the sea."
Kerry said nothing, digesting that. V knew it must have sounded more than a little Johnny-like, but there was no avoiding that. The more damage to Arasaka done, the larger amount of future safety everyone would have. They had already been forced to abandon their war plans. Another serious defeat and humiliation would see the sharks circling.
"Here we are, Carnita Street," V thought aloud, as they pulled up to the Chombatta coffee place Kerry had brought him to before, "And there is Judy and Cassidy... Looks like Delamain got them here alright."
Another figure appeared to be with them, sitting on top of the limo cross-legged with a black Samurai hoodie up over their head. Judy was chatting away to the third figure, happy as can be, in a way V hadn't seen her since before Evelyn's death. V's confusion only grew when he pulled the car up beside and saw who it was.
"Blue fuckin' Moon?" he asked, "What's she doing here?"
Kerry chuckled, wagging his finger. "V my man, that one is trouble," he laughed, "Lemme tell you what I learned about Us Cracks on tour."
He leaned over and lowered his voice. "Purple Force is the money grubber, in it for the eddies, which is why she's the leader. Red Menace is the tough one, thinks of the group as family... Also a complete maniac in bed, but..."
Wanting him to get to the point, V shot the man a look.
Kerry hopped to it."But Blue? Blue is the smart one, too smart for her own good. She's got ambitions," he said, "She wants to be a legend, I think. Always working an angle like that."
Kerry returned to his previous position, smug as can be that he had the intel. He was right too; Blue was trouble, if he was right.
V looked over again at the two women chatting, barely noticing their arrival. Half of him wanted to get out and warn off the girl right there and then... but who the hell was he to tell someone to not chase their dreams? Even if it did cost their life. He wasn't a pastor or a councillor, and definitely wasn't about to make himself a hypocrite.
"Sounds familiar," he said at last.
Kerry went inside and got everyone coffee, the real good stuff, however they wanted it. V couldn't shake the habit of his previous career and had it black with honey, real corpo-style, which sent him all nostalgic for all the wrong reasons.
It turned out that Judy and Blue had spent their time talking about BDs, about the latest mainstream stuff, the indy releases that Blue ought to see, the techniques of making a BD really pop... Even some crap about porn BDs that V really wish he didn't hear.
It was strange listening to Judy fall into her element so naturally, but it wasn't like she had anyone to talk to about these things or like she had such an enthusiastic listener later. That was the stranger thing, Blue seemed genuinely interested, not just in a celebrity-listening-to-common-streetkid way.
V half-watched, glad someone could bring the best out of Judy, where he couldn't.
The rest of his attention was taken up with the same thing Cassidy was doing; watching the street.
The coffee, the pleasant atmosphere, the chatter, it all fell in and out of his consciousness as he set the considerable enchanced senses of his Kiroshi eyes to the area around the parking lot. He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting. An Arasaka assault team dropped in by an AV? A concealed sniper moving into position?
Then again, it wasn't like Arasaka monitored every street. What would be the point? The chance of a real threat to their power originating out in the general populace was viewed as tiny. V was counting on it already, in fact.
Drifting in and out of the conversations going on, the others started excluding him, Cassidy too. Yet no column of armoured cars appeared. The streets remained empty. V found himself pacing slowly away from the group, to get a better look down the other roads. Still, nothing.
"I don't like this," Cassidy said quietly, wandering up beside him, "Hanging around at a rockerboy's villa is one thing, hanging around in this neighbourhood, at this hour, with these vehicles, in this company... It might not even be 'Saka that decides to take a pop at us. 6th Street own this place like Michiko owns the Tower."
V hmmed, examining the visible graffiti. There were a lot of gang tags around.
But the whole point was for someone to snap a random pic, and have it get slapped all over the screamsheets. Given the money the media paid for tip-offs, it was pretty much a certainty that someone on the staff at the Chombatta had made a call. It was a whole lot less likely they'd call Arasaka instead of a journalist, but 6th Street was another matter.
"No choice," V said, before changing his mind in part and opening up a call, "Del, if things go to shit, get Kerry and the girls outta here. Don't wait around."
"No problem, V," Delamain answered earnestly, "Preparing escape routes now. Traffic subnet reports no major blockages or NCPD roadblocks."
So if the Arasaka assault was coming, it wasn't endorsed by the mayor, at least. That was good news. V had feared the puppeteers behind the new Mayor might've been Arasaka, though even on the Konpeki job, he had come across evidence that they preferred his electoral rival.
"And in case I haven't said it yet," V added, "It's good to have you on board, Del."
"There was no question of me failing to assist you," Delamain said, "You helped my father, so to speak, it is only right I help you. Besides which, he left a considerable line of credit in eurodollars behind, in your favour." This Del being Excelsior, not the original who was now off past the Blackwall, probably competing with Alt for all anyone could tell.
V nodded and ended the call, giving Cassidy a thumbs up. The cowboy shook his head, clearly not of the belief that removing the non-combatants would help matters much. Not that V would've described Judy as non-combatant, exactly. Kerry definitely was. Blue, who fuckin' knew.
A screech of tires echoed from the distance.
"Cassidy, get me Widow Maker from the trunk," V commanded, "Now!"
"Gotcha," Cassidy said, running back to the Caliburn.
The others chatter stopped, replaced by murmurs of worry and questions about what was going on. Cassidy didn't say anything, for which V was thankful. It wasn't time to panic just yet.
Another set of shrieks, closer this time. Close enough for V to determine the street it had come from, and that it didn't sound like more than one vehicle. Gangoons then, he decided, perfect.
Cassidy handed off the Widow Maker to him, a modified M197E Achilles tech rifle; another prize from the tunnel adventure with Panam. He brought it up to its shoulder, the scope coming up just in front of his right eye, and with a flick of his thumb, he set it up to maximum charge. The six barrels immediately stacked and began humming with power.
This was a weapon that could send six depleted-uranium or tungsten hypervelocity slugs downrange at a time, either in rapid bursts or a charged volley. One of V's favourites, it was a beast of a weapon and one that would shred a single civvie vehicle with ease.
Cassidy eased his own preferred weapon, a large revolver, out of its holster with practised ease, and levelled it down the road, searching for a target. He didn't have to wait long.
Around the darkened corner exactly where V expected it to come from, the vehicle in question made its appearance, tires squealing just like they had before.
What V hadn't expected was that it was a dinky little thing, a shitty Thornton Galena that had to be older than he was. No way it was Arasaka, and if it was one of the gangs, it wasn't exactly a hard hitting crew. Confused by what he was seeing, he zoomed and enhanced the image from his scope.
Recognition dawned on V just as Cassidy opened up with his pistol, sending V flinching and his right ear to ringing slightly until his neural net adapted.
Worried that the shot might've done its job, he quickly brought his scope back up while putting the weapon back on safe. The driver must've saw it coming, as she had swerved at the last second. The magnum round that burst from the cowboy's revolver shattered the front-left headlight of the car instead of hitting the radiator and engine dead on.
V grimaced, knowing he'd get an earful for that one, and lowered his weapon before he got another for aiming at their guest too.
"Stop," V said, before Cassidy took another whack at stopping the car, "Know who it is."
The cowbow holstered his revolver at once, just as smoothly as it had come out for use, and put his hands on his hips. "It's got Maelstrom tags all over it, but if you say so," he grumbled, "Had her cold."
"I bet," V snorted, "Plenty of targets to come."
"Who is it?" Judy called from the cars, as the newcomer began turning in.
Kerry jumped up on top of the limo to get a better look. "Ah, I know who it is!" he laughed, "Of course it's her. Probably should've just called her direct."
V and Cassidy rejoined the group, as the banged up and now shot up piece of crap on wheels finally came to a stop, its door opened violently, and its now-angry owner stepped out.
Nancy Hartley, formerly of Samurai, now Bes Isis of N54 News. She was in a burgundy red business suit of all things, though her shoes were black sneakers, but the media-eyepiece was in place over her right eye, her neat grey hair falling over its side.
V wanted to kick himself. Of course she would be the first media to show up.
"V, Kerry, what the hell are you doing shooting at me!" Nancy said, "Is that why you're back? To shoot up random cars in the street?" V could swear she was tapping her foot at him.
"Nancy! See that you're still as good at your job as ever," V replied cheerily, "I presume you know everyone here? Except Cassidy here." He pointed to Cass, who gave Nancy a tip of his hat.
The media looked the cowboy over once, before aiming her glare back where it belonged.
"Don't change the subject," Nancy snapped, "And yeah, I know who Kerry, Blue Moon, even who Judy Alvarez is. But the question on my mind isn't about them, but about you. I want to talk about Arasaka Tower, the Aldecaldos, and why the hell you didn't tell me Johnny Silverhand engram was in your head!"
