Chapter 3: Visible
Symon rose tiredly out of bed. Both his phone and PDA were ringing loudly. He squinted at the clock to see it was 2:52 AM. Symon turned off the PDA alarm and picked up the phone.
"This is Frank Murphy with Graturn Logistics. Is this Mr. Dolak?" a voice asked from the phone.
"Yes, yes, this is Symon," Symon replied.
"I've already gotten one of the directors on the line, but you need to be here! We need someone with clearance."
"Alright, I'm heading out now. Send me the coordinates." For secured transport assignments, goods were locked in reinforced sealed containers that could only be opened by codes sent to the purchaser or by randomly designated company officers. Tonight, Symon was one such officer. The intention was to prevent a collaborated attempt to steal or damage transported goods. He put on his uniform and grabbed his codes and identification.
Symon headed to Watson in his gray Thorton Colby C240T. It was not the nicest or fastest car, but it served Symon just fine. He wasn't a great driver anyway. Usually, Symon would take the metro, but it was worth having a set of wheels when heading to a raid site. Frank's tone on the phone was a good sign. Security attached to the transport must have secured the scene. Otherwise, Graturn would have had Symon head there with either the NCPD or a corporate security detail.
The coordinates Symon received showed the transport had been stopped in an area barely within the Northside Industrial District and close to Kabuki. Maelstrom raids were common, but usually they occurred deeper in the Northside of Watson. The transporters must have moved to a security outpost. The only reason Graturn Logistics even bothered with these night times deliveries is because purchasers paid a premium that offset the cost of these raids. Symon didn't know the specifics. He just knew it was lucrative.
Traffic was light given the late hour, but there were still people about. Many were night shift workers and many others were criminals. Less scrupulous portions of Night City often used the darkness to barter for illegal goods. Such goods included black market implants, organs, drugs, or snuff brain dances. Symon noticed such deals happening as he drove through Kabuki. Narrow alleyways were dimly lit below neon lights and Chinese lampions. Eventually, he left Kabuki and began entering the Northside. Symon called Frank to let him know he would be appearing shortly in a gray car.
Symon arrived at the coordinates. It was a security outpost established before for such events. Drones circled above. Corporate security guards with assault rifles established a perimeter. Their cars blockaded the road. Symon stopped outside of warning signals projected on the street. Bright red signals reading "STAY BACK" and "FORCE AUTHORIZED" shined on the streets and sidewalks alongside bright red lines. Despite all the display, it still paled in comparison to shows of force put on by the larger corporations. No NCPD officers were in sight. They had ceded jurisdiction in Northside given the massive rates of violent crime. It was just another reason corporations paid the premium.
A guard noticed Symon and yelled something at him. Symon put both hands in the air. The guard got closer.
"Are you with Graturn? We have a perimeter in place!" the guard yelled.
"I'm with Graturn! I'm the designated officer," Symon replied. The guard squinted and finally noticed Symon's uniform. He motioned Symon to come over. Symon kept his hands up as he approached the guard.
"Ok, show me your clearance," the guard requested. Symon produced his company identification. After the guard scanned it, he let him pass. Frank was inspecting the damage to the transport van. A hole was blown out the left side of the car. The bottom left wheel was completely flattened. Bullet holes riddled the sides. Scorch marks could be seen around the hole.
It had been a while since Symon had seen such explosive damage. First off, despite the prevalence of guns, explosives were harder to procure in the city. While everyone had a use for guns, explosives simply risked too much collateral damage. It wasn't necessarily a matter of altruism, just that collateral got expensive. Explosives were more common in the Badlands. Second, it was just nonsensical to blow up whatever you're trying to steal. Whoever attacked the transport was either inept, desperate, and/or was just trying to destroy everything.
"Hello," Symon greeted Frank. He turned around to see Symon.
"Hello. Is it you, Symon? It's Frank Murphy," Frank stated.
"It is me. Did Maelstrom do this?"
"We couldn't get a good look at the attackers. First, the explosion happened. Then they started opening fire. Our driver was hurt, but he managed to regain control of the van. The security team returned fire as we got away. Luckily, whoever attacked us can't aim. One of our guys got hit in the foot and another got a round to his shoulder. They got sent to a ripperdoc once we reached the outpost."
"Area's secure?" Symon asked, looking around.
"For now. That said, I needed you to check the integrity of the goods. Director Serra's orders. I don't have the codes or I'd do it myself."
Symon stepped up to the warped door. Frank unlocked it for him, and Symon stepped inside. The inside of the van was sparse, save for three containers. One closer to the right of the van was untouched. There were scorch marks on the other two along with cracks from shrapnel. Symon put in the codes and examined the contents of each container. The cleanest container had a black, plastic box with an ARASAKA logo on it. Like the container, the box was pristine. The next two containers also contained boxes, but they were different. Both were made of metal and were light gray. The reinforced containers did appear to protect them superficially. In addition, the insides of the reinforced containers showed no signs of damage. What was unique about the gray boxes, however, was the appearance of names on each box: H. Nishikawa and A. Lotherlow. Symon closed up the containers and stepped outside.
"Well?" Frank asked.
"Superficially, the goods look untouched. The containers were damaged, but they prevented shrapnel from going inside. I cannot, however, rule out damage from the heat or shockwave," Symon reported. To protect client confidentiality, designated corporate officers were to only describe the visible condition of cargo in events of possible damage.
"I'll let Serra know."
"Are you sure the attackers didn't follow us?" Symon asked, looking around.
"I mean, if they did, we must have scared them off once they saw the security we have here," Frank guessed. Symon noticed a black aerodyne, or AV, in the air above descending towards the outpost.
"I don't think you're the reason they ran off," Symon observed. The AV rapidly descended towards the outpost. Its jets could be heard scorching the air as it came down to land. ARASAKA was painted in white on the side. Once the doors on the sides of the vehicle opened, armed guards rushed out. They were soon followed by men and women in red and black suits.
"Tell the guards to keep their weapons ready. Get some into cover," Symon told Frank.
"What? You're joking, you know who they are?" Frank asked.
"I know exactly who they are," Symon replied, putting his hand on his own holster. Frank looked for a second in disbelief, then relayed the message. The Arasaka guards and suited corpos stopped short of the perimeter.
"Who's in charge here?" One of them shouted.
"We have a director on the line. Who do you need to talk to?" Symon yelled back.
"You, then. Come here."
Symon motioned Frank to follow him. Frank followed nervously. The group from Arasaka stood in a semi-circular formation.
"We will be taking our packages from you now," one of the suited men declared.
"I'm sorry, but who are you," Symon asked.
"Can you not read? We're a task force from Arasaka. You are transporting goods that are Arasaka property. You will relinquish them."
"I don't know whose goods those are. I don't know who you are. I'm going to need to see some identification before we do anything," Symon stated. The suited man scowled. Frank winced.
"Fine. Show him," the suited man motioned to another man beside him. The man's eyes began to glow. Symon simply looked at the two in anticipation. Several seconds passed and nothing happened.
"What's going on?" the suited man whispered.
"I… I don't know," the man with the glowing eyes admitted.
"Am I going to see identification?" Symon asked.
"Enough of this," One of the suited women finally interjected. "We have the codes Graturn sent us in order to open the shipping containers."
"Well? What does Serra say?" Symon asked, turning to Frank. Frank explained the situation to Serra.
"The director says that if they can open the shipping containers, they can take what's inside. But our containers stay with us," Frank relayed. Symon nodded. He repeated the message to the group from Arasaka and stepped aside. A couple of them passed by, keeping their eyes on Symon and Frank. The guards for Graturn stepped aside as well. Symon watched as they put in the codes to open the containers. They wrapped the boxes in some opaque plastic and carried them back to the AV.
Guards from Arasaka did a quick sweep of the area before they entered the AV. The jets roared to life as the AV took off. Symon watched as it went the same way it came. He realized then that they were headed west towards the Arasaka Waterfront.
"Man, I hope nothing comes of this," Frank muttered.
"Nothing will. If Arasaka wanted to, they wouldn't have even bothered asking," Symon explained, turning to Frank. "I assume you can take care of things from here?"
"The van's going to need evaluation. I might have to get someone to pick it up. Yes, though, I can take care of all that. I just needed you for the codes. By the way, you are bold."
"What? For protecting our client's goods? We have a responsibility to uphold. Alright. I'm going back to bed. Night, Frank."
"Night, Symon."