As they strode down the sidewalk, Rebecca holding Pilar's elbow to keep the gangly idiot from running into lamp posts or something, her brother spoke up. "So… David huh? Decided to go toe to toe with Lucy? Sure you ain't just feeling jealous?" He grunted as Rebecca's fist buried itself in his side, snickering at the twitch in her brow. The flickering neon sign for a strip club marked the end of the road, and she briefly considered just leaving his ass there. He might not be able to see much, but he'd probably be happy enough. Here among the piles of garbage, human and otherwise, that lined the sides of the street.
Northside Watson was a hole, with trash everywhere, random pockets of drunk, high, and occasionally dead people, or derelict buildings that had been left empty for so many fuckin' reasons. It was cheap, though, and being an edgerunner was a feast-or-famine gig. "Fuck, you nearly had your head blown off and you're still an irritating shithead. Just shut up and move already." Yanking sharply on his arm, they turned the corner, continuing towards their apartment. It wasn't that far from Afterlife, but after the chaos of the sudden cyberpsycho attack, the sidewalks were pretty empty. It made it feel like they were alone, a feeling she was really damn familiar with. "I'm not letting you fuck up another relationship for me, pencil dick."
"Hell do you mean? I was plenty friendly with the last person you dated. That guy, whatever his name was. The one from the Mox." Of course this jackass didn't even remember the name. Why would he the guy didn't have anything he wanted to fuck so clearly he wasn't important.
"Her name was Samantha. The last guy I dated that you're thinking of was Patrick. Who you convinced to come with you to a brothel, where he fell in love with one of the Dolls," she said flatly, feeling her fists clench and veins swell as she imagined the sounds he'd make if she just started stomping on his ribs. If she kept hitting him, they'd never make it home, and then she'd have to put up with this for even longer than she already had. Not happening.
"Huh… oh yeah. My bad. Got those mixed up." Shrugging, Pilar placed a golden finger in his ear and wiggled it. Unsurprising, since she had never brought Samantha home while he was around, and yet he had still managed to hit on her in a bar a week before they broke up. That had, in fairness, been mostly unrelated. Turned out she had wanted to go to art school in Atlanta for some reason.
The first droplets of rain started to leave the ground slick and shiny, a pattering chorus echoed by the running feet of people heading for shelter from the approaching downpour. As they rounded the corner and stopped at a crosswalk, she looked back the way she had come. Maybe David would be willing to let her stay over… nah, it was too late for that. He was probably headed home with Jackie and his friend V. They seemed… well, not like a complete waste of space, so a step up from almost every other corpo. Decent fun, but a bit too buttoned up maybe. Hadn't got a good read on them. As the crosswalk flickered to green and began repeating "Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk" in the dull lilting prerecorded voice, she headed across to the other side of the road with Pilar in tow, grumbling to herself.
Midway across, Pilar spat on the road. "So I ain't screwed up that many of your fucktoys then, like two or three. No reason to bitch me out about it." At that, Rebecca's foot stopped mid-step and she spun on her heel to glare at him.
Baring her teeth, she stalked back and stabbed a finger into his chest, pushing him back a step as she ground her teeth before belting the next words out with all the malice of a knife to the throat. "I was talking about our fucking parents, you worthless piece of shit!" The crosswalk turned red, and a moment later, the cars began rushing past, narrowly missing them as they honked repeatedly at the obstruction. Hedged in by speeding vehicles, Rebecca's hair whipped in the slipstream as the headlights illuminated the tears in her eyes. Thankfully Pilar couldn't see this, he'd never fuckin' let up about it. For a moment, they were stuck in a neon-blurred hallway of speeding metal and rushing air, walled off from the rest of Night City, the rain slicking down Pilar's usually-proud mohawk.
The everpresent smirk on Pilar's face was gone, replaced by a disgusted snarl. "They were garbage and you know it, Rebecca. I got us both out of there. It's been ten years you've been on my ass about that, get over it." His dripping mohawk swayed as he looked away, the headlights of onrushing traffic glistening on his shattered visor. "I ain't gonna apologize."
"You fucking should!" she shot back, throwing one hand out as she grit her teeth in mounting frustration. This piece of shit! He was still refusing to take any goddamn responsibility, even after all this time! "They might have been crappy parents but they treated you like a spoiled little prince! You never got punished for your shit, while I was a little showpiece for their stupid business friends! You'd show up high as balls or drunk, and they'd just have the staff take you to your room to sleep it off." Running a hand through her minty hair, she took a deep breath. "Even after all that, even after all the fights and bullshit, at least we were warm, and fed, and safe."
"Safe? You high?" Pilar shoved a gleaming golden thumb at his chin as the traffic slowed. "Dad cracked my fucking jaw when he was pissed at me one time. You call that safe? Those psychos would say the most sickening shit, and if that didn't work they'd just smack ya one." As the cars came to a stop, he turned and stalked across the remainder of the crosswalk. Following him, Rebecca narrowed her eyes. She would have stopped him and started chewing him out again, but she was pretty sure someone had called the cops on them for jaywalking. It would be better to delta before some cop decided to empty their wallets as a 'fine'.
"When he was pissed at you? You talking about when he found out you stole his car and took it for a joyride, then got it stolen? Yeah, no shit he hit you. Pretty sure the phrase 'talk shit, get hit' has passed through your empty skull once or twice you fucking cockmongler." Shoulder checking him, she grabbed his arm and reoriented him as he started walking down the wrong street. "Then you fuckin' grab me and take off when our house gets robbed. Didn't even grab any eddies on the way out, or make some kind of plan, or anything! We were on the streets for weeks before one of us managed to get a job, and it sure fucking wasn't you!"
"I had a job!" he barked back, pointing at his own chest as he walked. "I was fixing shit, saving up!"
"You were tinkering for fucking pocket change! We'd still be starving if I hadn't done something!" They were nearly home at this point, and she grabbed his shirt and roughly shoved him towards the stairs. "You waste your cash getting your dick wet and buying stupid shit like those hands. You haven't grown up in ten years, and I'm getting sick of your shit. Just go jerk off or fix your eyes or whatever and leave me alone." When they reached the apartment door, she yanked it open. Skirting past the wall that separated the 'living room' and Pilar's work desk from the kitchen, she hopped over the edge of the kitchen island to reach her bedroom, slamming the door behind her and flicking the deadbolt shut.
She closed her eyes for a moment as stony, tense silence filled the apartment, holding a breath in case Pilar decided he wanted to get in the last word. When there was no reply, she stumbled over to her bed and flopped into it, shoving her face directly into a pillow so she could scream into it without pissing off the neighbors. That fucking bastard! He did whatever he wanted, then got pissed when he had to deal with the consequences. The son of a bitch even had the gall to claim he had done her a favor by grabbing her and running from their parents' house during the robbery She had to get a job as a fucking guard dog with the Mox as a twelve year-old because of this useless prick.
Raising her eyes slightly, she glanced around her room. Her babies were mounted on the wall, except for the ones she was currently carrying. Spread across the floor beneath them was a pile of seemingly-disorganized ammo boxes, some open and overflowing with loose rounds. The cheap aluminum blinds over her windows were a bit bent, and there was a small pile of crumpled beer cans in one corner. Some turquoise and pink spray paint poked out forlornly from underneath her desk. It was kind of messy, honestly. Aside from the various posters and tools, the room was barren, the trash and disorganization not quite hiding the fact that she had never committed to moving in.
Samantha had complained her room was boring. Nothing but ammo cans, beer cans, and rattle cans. Maybe she should try to spruce it up a little if she wanted to have David over? Especially if he was gonna be living with Jackie for a while. She tried to imagine running a hand up his thigh and then making eye contact with Mama Welles looming behind him like some sort of living incarnation of judgment, complete with gavel, or possibly baseball bat. Eesh. Not fun. Having to deal with Pilar would be a pain in the ass, but better than the force of nature that was David's grandma.
Sitting up, she shucked her jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. She kicked her shoes off her feet, sending them flying into the ammo pile, and padded over to the window, where she used a pale finger to pop down one of the slats to take a peek outside. The rain was coming down harder outside, lashing against the window and covering up much of the noise of the city outside. Resting her chin on her folded hands, she just looked out into the blue-white tempest for a moment, feeling reflective.
Maybe it was time to leave Pilar behind, get her own place. She probably had the eddies, especially if she could hold herself back from purchasing new guns for a while.
Flopping back onto the bed, she let her head roll onto the pillow and her eyes flutter. Something to sleep on, that.
Two days after the incident at the Afterlife, Maine called a meeting of his crew. David brought V and Jackie too, and Maine raised an eyebrow as he saw them enter the garage door to the warehouse. The same red-tinged smokey den with the two big couches served as a meeting place, but those two hadn't been invited. Rubbing the back of his head, David looked at his part-time boss and glanced back at V. "So uh.. I was talking with V, and got some info that might help."
"Oh yeah? Do tell. Cause right now we ain't found shit," Maine said dryly, settling back in his booth. He seemed calmer at the moment, less rattled, but there was still a bit of tension in the air. Nobody had forgotten the last time they had seen the big man. As the newcomers sat down, David gestured to V again before continuing his explanation.
"So, we were talking about the XBD V was asked to deliver. I used to shift 'em at my school, make some extra cash. Turns out, the one that was delivered was from a preem editor, Jimmy Kurosaki. He's got a cult following, and you don't get edits like his anywhere else." He noticed the raised eyebrows from the assembled edgerunners, and coughed. "Here's the thing. He mostly does custom-made."
At this, Kiwi and Lucy leaned forwards in interest. Maine looked from one to the other, searching for a hint at what it was they knew and he didn't, frowning. "What's that mean?"
"The big spenders expect exclusive BDs, so he tailors 'em special to each person who's buying for maximum satisfaction. If the BD was destroyed, then there's no replacing it, not easily. He'd be out a fair bit of money, and an exclusive. If there was a chance to get something like that back, he'd probably jump on it. Plus, we can sweeten the pot." V raised a hand, sitting forwards.
"I have some backups and copies of Arasaka files, enough to make a convincing argument that I can help undo some of the damage that Jenkins caused. If I also claim I still have the original BD, I might be able to lure Tanaka out for a meeting by contacting him by email." Folding their arms, V glared at Maine. "But I have a condition. Once we get this guy, and you finish your job… you're dialing it back."
"What!? The fuck you saying? You think some corpo-rat fresh out the sewers can—" Maine cut himself off as he saw his hand trembling. Looking around the room, his mouth set in a grim line, and for a moment it looked like he was about to storm off again. Instead, he turned to look at Dorio, then nodded. "Sorry. That was…uncalled for. You're right. The fight against that psycho—maybe I do need a bit of a break, some time to recover. Take out a spare piece or two, somethin' like that." David felt a wave of relief pass over him as he realized that Maine was actually accepting the deal. When Jackie and V had come up with the offer, information in exchange for a promise, he had argued against it by saying that it would just set Maine off again and he didn't want to make things worse for everyone. Instead, it seemed like it was gonna work out okay.
"So, we get you to act as bait, draw Tanaka out. What's to say he won't just tell you to come to the tower and stay behind his guards and guns?" Maine said, steepling his fingers as he considered this.
"He's picking up an XBD, and he definitely doesn't want to get caught with that. It being brought to the tower was bad enough, but he's still listed on the Academy's website as a current board member. No way he'd be there if he's been fired, which means he deflected the blame somehow. So he'll probably want to get the info off of me, then shut me up. If I act desperate and stupid, he'll come expecting to clean up a loose end and keep it quiet. Trust me, I know the playbook on this," V explained, tone clinical as they stared at the table. Piecing everything together, angle by angle. It was times like this that David was reminded what Uncle Jackie's friend had been up to for the last couple years.
Arasaka Counterintel. It was no joke, apparently. Lucy nodded, and spoke up as well. "V's got a point, nasty as it sounds. Ambushing an ambush is our best shot, but the longer we wait, the more suspicious this will get. If we wait a week, Tanaka will be wondering why they didn't call earlier. This will have to go down tonight or tomorrow." She looked around the room. Pilar, Rebbeca, Maine, Dorio, Jackie, Kiwi, David, and herself. Possibly Falco if they needed some wheels. That was a lot of firepower, and enough to potentially handle even a decent-sized Arasaka hitsquad.
"So, that's the deal? You put yourself on the line for a cut, and tellin' me to ease off the throttle? I know you need the cash, but this still seems risky for you," Maine said, his eyes inscrutable behind his shades. "Why you doing this? For David?"
"Yes, I'm deeply in love with him," came the dry response. Lucy nearly swallowed her cigarette, and Rebecca coughed, choking on her own spit. Rolling their eyes, V looked over at David. "I'm sure you're nice and all, David, but no. Not really. I'm doin' it for Jackie, and by extension David. I'm also doing it because odds are, if I end up working with anyone it'll be you guys. I don't want to see a crew of potential coworkers split up because they overextended themselves."
"Pragmatic, and only a little bit ruthless, but surprisingly well-meaning," Kiwi remarked from her position on one end of the couch. "No wonder you didn't last in Arasaka. I'm all for this, anyway."
A scan of the room showed a mix of expressions. Pilar looked ticked off about something, but nodded. Rebecca gave a thumbs up. Lucy nodded with a thoughtful expression while beside her, Kiwi shrugged noncommittally. Dorio glanced at Maine, then nodded too. David looked between his friends, then at V. The ex-agent had kept their gaze on Maine as the big solo considered their plan, his expression cool and gaze analytical. After another moment, Maine nodded firmly. "Seems like a win-win to me. Otherwise we'll be spinning our wheels here forever. Get Kiwi to give ya a list of places we can use for this. We'll get jammers ready to go and set a counter-ambush. Chop chop, people. We're almost done with this fuckin' job."
As his Delamain cab sped down the backstreets, Tanaka couldn't help but tap his finger in anticipation. They were still sorting through the absolute mountain of issues that Jenkins had left behind. The only loose end had been the agent, V, and now a perfect opportunity had landed in his lap as if delivered by the kami themselves.
An email, sent to his personal address from a net cafe in Jig-Jig street. "It's me, the courier you hired two days ago. I managed to hide the real evidence from J, and I have a backup of the files he seized from me. If you can get me back into the company, I'll hand them over and do whatever you say. I can't take the streets anymore."
Weak-willed and desperate, it seemed. He hadn't had a chance to look into this agent specifically before their file was deleted, but it seemed it had taken a pathetically small dose of the real Night City to crack them. Still, he could respect them for avoiding their incompetent manager's fate… up until now, anyways. It was a shame they had discovered his hobby, and that was a potential avenue for blackmail he simply couldn't allow to continue.
Exiting the van across the street from the abandoned concrete tomb that had once been a Buck-a-Slice, he looked around in disgust. Bare concrete, weeds and dust, and a pile of wrecked cars. The very tip of Watson was a dump, but if one was hiding as this ex-employee was, it was the place to be. As the sounds of distant gunshots echoed down the empty street, he signaled the four security officers he had brought with him to follow.
Entering, he looked around. Broken benches, a wide counter, and shattered signs with graffiti scrawled all over it. From the kitchen, the huddled shape of the ex-employee he was here to meet emerged, holding a drive and a BD case. "Sir? I have the stuff. I'm sorry for the trouble, just… I wasn't expecting Jenkins to be waiting for me."
"It's alright," he said in a stern tone, raising a hand to cut them off. "I see you have the information. Good. Just what we expect of our Counterintelligence department. Jenkins is dead, executed for treachery against Arasaka. Come with me, and we can get you reinstated and back in your apartment before the night is out." There was another employee already in their old apartment, but it wasn't as if they'd get that far.
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" They began to walk closer, lifting the case. Tanaka stepped forwards, hand outstretched…
A massive shape leapt through the window, arms the size of Tanaka's own torso shielding himself from the shattering glass as he bowled over two of the Arasaka agents like a runaway truck. The other two whipped around to fire, only to be gunned down as more mercs popped up from behind the wide counter of the former restaurant. Meanwhile, his own systems suddenly went haywire as a daemon punched through his ICE, sending a flood of notifications and error messages bleeding and glitching across his vision.
Staggering, he tried to focus on V, on the merc, on anything, but a sudden arm-bar to the throat from a strangely familiar kid in a yellow jacket sent him to the ground, gasping for air, and a second later a boot heel to the temple finished the job.
(A/N: SPAG and description help from somnolentSlumber, Edited by Golden_)
