Chapter 9: Bombshell

Sitting in my bed, my muscles weak, my mind frayed, the only emotion I could muster was self-pity.

Looking at the screen through bloodshot eyes, watching the fires rage, I was quite literally watching my legacy go up in smoke. The footage was grainy, captured through a partially destroyed camera, but there was no mistaking that that was one of my warehouses. Switching between the files I had been given revealed another, and another, and another. All in all, of the more than sixty facilities I'd had constructed, roughly forty had suffered attacks, mostly by bombers, over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

It was pandemonium.

I only desired the sweet embrace of sleep, and yet I couldn't afford it. Even ignoring the human cost of the attacks, which made me want to curl up into a ball and weep like a baby, the financial costs of bringing even half of those facilities back online would be crippling, rendering me largely incapable of retaliation. Likely, that had been the intent behind the attacks, to soften me up for when the real battle would begin, such that I wouldn't be able to afford so much as the bullets needed.

To be honest, I couldn't even muster up the energy to care.

Whenever I closed my eyes, the spectre of Aaron's head exploding like a watermelon, of James's lifeless eyes lingered. Instead of the sweet embrace of sleep, I had been plunged into my own version of the violence, the nightmare playing out again and again, becoming more twisted and horrifying with each iteration. It got to the point where the very prospect of sleep scared me. So, instead, I sought out the sweet distraction of work, only to be confronted once again with the very violence I had sought to evade.

Still, at least some of my ideas had worked. Coordinating with the Padre and Gunner allowed me to salvage some of the situation, helping to prevent some of the attacks, and beginning the hunt for the perpetrators. It hadn't taken very long to reveal the guilty party, some of the corpses being quite literally made of muscle, others being stuffed with more cyberware than was ever necessary, and others sporting flashy tiger-themed regalia.

It took a moment for me to join the dots, on account of the exhaustion, but the realisation came quickly nonetheless.

This... was a declaration of war. The gangs had known that picking a straight fight with the combined forces of 6th Street and the Valentinos was going to be a slog and a half, and so like any good pugilist, they had gone straight for the knockout punch. Instead of attacking their direct opponents, they had gone for their financial backer, likely in the hopes of cutting the wind out of our sails and taking advantage of the ensuing chaos to make easy prey of us.

More importantly, they had failed.

Oh, to be sure, they had come close, dangerously so. I hadn't expected such a coordinated response from three factions who were supposedly enemies, anticipating at most just some small skirmishes, and I had paid the price for my miscalculation. The butcher's bill on our side rested in the hundreds of corpses. Workers, gangoons, even innocent bystanders. However, whilst they had knocked us down, they hadn't knocked us out. The attack on myself, for example, had failed, thus enabling us to quickly throw together a response, the disarray the enemy had likely been hoping to create never materialising. With most of our income sources destroyed, our financial situation was dire, but it was not desperate, my sizeable savings sufficient to tide us over for a few weeks. Nor had they destroyed our spirits. Everyone I had talked to seemed to be even more resolute than before, their jaws clenched in barely repressed rage, their hands itching to go pick up a gun and show those fuckers what's what.

It was for this reason that I persevered. When I first employed them, I had sold them on the notion of a better world, one in which their children could play in peace and prosperity, and be proud and happy with their lives. I had spoken of my dream, and told each and every one of them that I would never surrender in my quest to see it made into reality. These weren't some random NPC's anymore, they were real people, with families and lives and loves and tiny quirks that made them all unique in their own way, and each and very one of them was depending on me. They deserved better than their lot in life, and their children did too.

And so, even though the only thing I really felt like doing was lying back and accepting defeat, I set to work. With the attacks mostly over, and the triage and salvage work in full swing, the first priority remained to organise a response. To that effect, I had Gunner and the Padre arrange for their best fighters to be organised into strike teams, given the best gear at hand, and then had them sent on retaliatory attacks against various locations occupied by the factions responsible, such as the Grand Imperial Mall, Clouds, the Deravaja Dojo and Totentanz, just to name a few.

They were ordered to give no quarter to any gang members. I was done fucking around.

However, outside of the immediate response, there remained the broader logistical costs of waging war. My savings were already being drained by increased hazard pay, compensation for the families of the recently deceased amongst my ranks, as well as the cost of employing more people and rebuilding and repairing my facilities. In addition, I would also have to front the costs of war, from bullets, to armour, to intel. Though my savings were healthy, at the current rate, they would be almost entirely depleted by the end of the week, leaving me, quite literally, dead in the water.

To fix this, I had a couple of projects in the works. First thing, the more heavily damaged of my facilities were written off, though I received no compensation for it, on account of me refusing to take the blatantly exploitative insurance contracts available on the market, a decision I now regretted. Still, with less projects, I had a smaller cost-base to worry about, helping to stretch the available funds just a little bit further. However, to stand any hope of winning, I needed an expanded source of income, such that my expenditures wouldn't prove to be so burdensome. To that effect, I had a little project in the works that I was hoping would help bridge the gap.

You see, with all the changes in the world, one of the key differences was the relative nonexistence of Minecraft. Now, in my old world, Minecraft had proven to be insanely successful, generating billions of dollars in revenue and becoming at one point the most played game on earth, even though it had been created by only one man. At one point, a younger version of me had been addicted to the game, unable to put it down.

When I realised what an opportunity it's lack of existence presented, I had seized upon the idea, starting work on the project before hiring a small team of designers and programmers to speed its development along, largely because I didn't know how to adapt the code to make the game run on cyberware. As it was, on account of it's relative simplicity, the game had been finished weeks ago, and the marketing campaign for the game had begun, the blocky little picture of Steve visible on various billboards throughout the city and on ads appearing throughout the NUSA as well. It was originally slated to come out in a few months time, and yet, desperate for cash, I released it out into the world, selling the digital copy for twenty eddies a piece.

The response was immediate, and almost violently positive. Within the hour, I had sold in excess of a hundred-thousand copies, bringing in a much needed injection of some two-million eddies. At the current rate, my financial woes would be, under any normal circumstances, a thing of the past. As it was, it was a due relief, the success of the game helping to offset much of the logistical burden of warfare.

With that little problem taken care of, I sent for some sleeping pills, and made to rest my weary mind. It was precisely at that moment, that a banging could be heard emanating from the front door. Inside, there was a moment of strangled panic, an uneasy silence descending upon everyone. My security team withdrew their guns and inched towards the door, whilst my other workers went in the opposite direction. It was relief, then, when the sound of an angry woman screaming could be heard through the metal of the door, "Let me in, you gonk! I know you're alive, and I swear, if you don't let me in I'll... I'll kill you properly!"

My security team appeared alarmed at the threat, but eased up when I gestured for them to lower their weapons with a wave of my hand. With a smile on my face, I grabbed my cane and hobbled for the door, still dressed in what equated for pyjamas. I gripped the handle and twisted, hearing the sounds of clicking as the many locks on the door all disengaged. As expected, on the other side was stood a thoroughly pissed Panam. She thrust herself through the gap, walking into my home, observing all the guards watching her closely, some with their weapons drawn, her tone acidic when she began to speak, "So, this is where you disappeared off to, huh?"

I kept my voice level, unsure of how to proceed, "Actually, that was a different place. This is just my regular home."

"You've built yourself a pretty little village, huh?"

I sat down and shrugged, "There are dozens of abandoned towns around the edges of Night City. I just bought a few for pennies on the eddy and converted them into employee housing, which has the added benefit of keeping me far away from the danger." As she paced up and down, I frowned as something occured to me, "How did you find me?"

She sat on the seat opposite, her face still drawn with anger, her fingers itching to reach for my neck, "I just hit all the locations I remembered you using, and ticked them off one by one."

I smiled, "Ah, the old trial and error trick. An oldie but a goodie."

Panam now looked thoroughly pissed by my seemingly nonchalant attitude, and she raised her voice accordingly, "Where the fuck were you!? I thought you were dead, you fucking gonk! The least you could have done is called me and told me you were okay!"

I quirked an eyebrow at the volume, "Being in a coma tends to restrict one's ability to contact people."

Panam looked unconvinced, "And after? I had to find out you were alive from the mother-fucking news! Why didn't you reach out?!"

"You were the newest addition to my security team at the time. When I went under, the rest of my team suspected that you may have been involved in the plot, and that suspicion grew when you just up and left the day of the assassination."

Panam's expression was now a mixture of angry, sheepish and annoyed, "I was looking for the gonk who tried to off you! I wasn't involved!"

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, I know that now. But I didn't know it then, so, as always, I elected for the path of caution."

Panam opened her mouth, likely to berate me further, but then closed it again, a thoughtful expression appearing in her face. Apparently, she didn't seem to have much to say to my statement, and as the seconds ticked by, the anger seemed to leak out of her face till, just like me, the only real thing visible on it was exhaustion. The silence dragged on for maybe a minute, before I decided to expedite proceedings, desirous of sleep as I was, "So, what did you find?"

She looked up at me, confusion visible on her features, "What?"

"You said you went hunting for the person or people that tried to have me killed. Any luck with the investigation?"

She seemed unsure, but then she rubbed her face with her hands and slowly shook her head, "Not really. I found some leads, but the longer I pull at the threads, the more confusing things become."

I walked to the side of the room, pouring some wine from a decanter into a pair of glasses and handing one to Panam as I sat back down, settling in for a story, "How come?"

Panam sipped her wine and spoke, "Well, the first place I went was to the Delamain HQ, you know the place?"

I nodded, "I suspected as much. I knew I recognised the car back then, and the lack of driver did set off some alarm bells."

"Well, apparently Del had nothing to do with it. From the way he tells it, some of his vehicles have recently begun to go rogue cause of some bug or virus or something, and he has lost control of those cars. He even contracted one of my friends, V, to help him fix it, which is how I was able to confirm that he was telling the truth."

I quirked an eyebrow, "That's it? That's where your trail ran cold?"

"Not quite. Del also told me that someone had definitely compromised his firewall recently, though after his cars started to go rogue, and after you supposedly died, Del says that the digital trace of this hacker just... vanished. Without a trace."

I let out a whistle, "That's quite a feat, to be able to defeat an AI as sophisticated as Delamain within his own system. Any ideas who?"

"No, but being the curious gal that I am, I asked Rogue."

"Rogue?"

Panam nodded, "Yeah. She owes me somewhat of a favour, and she's the most well-connected fixer in town. She wasn't very helpful in giving me names, but she did give me a good tip about NetWatch being in something of a panic over some new threat on the Net. A contact of mine, River, hooked me up with a friend he has from NETSEC at the NCPD, who, when I spoke to them, said something about that threat being a hole in the Blackwall."

Now I was really confused, "A hole in the Blackwall?"

"Yeah. Apparently some gonks at NetWatch really freaked when they found out, and they suppressed the news before it could cause panic, which is probably why you haven't heard about it." She leaned forwards and finished her drink, "Makes sense, when you think about it. I mean, who can beat an AI but another AI?"

"Yeah, but the only question is why? Far as I can tell, I'm not running against an AI, nor has my company been involved in anything even remotely Net adjacent, so why would one want my head on a platter, and why so eagerly that it would go to such lengths? Not to mention, what AI do you know of that is remotely large or powerful enough to punch through something as monstrously large as the Blackwall? I mean, the Voodoo Boys have been trying to bring down the Blackwall for decades now, and they have failed every single time they tried." I paused for a moment, pondering the implications before arriving at a conclusion, "No, something bigger is at play here, it just has to be. If only I knew what it was..." I finished the last of my drink in one large gulp, "You find anything else?"

Panam shook her head, "Nope. The trail pretty much runs cold from there. Those NetWatch boys are pretty cagey with the details, and I couldn't get so much as a word from any of them. Given time, I'm sure I could find something, but as it is, that's pretty much all I have. I'm no closer to finding out the who than I am to finding out the why."

I let the silence linger for a moment, my mind still foggy from exhaustion, before I decided to end the day, unable to think clearly. As such, I made to wrap up my conversation with Panam, "You want your old job back?"

"Seriously?"

I nodded, "Yeah. I could use the help around here, and I think we can safely say that you aren't out to kill me, can't we?"

There was a general murmuring of agreement around the room amongst the onlooking staffers. Panam hesitated for a moment, before standing and extending her hand, "Sure, I'll take my old job back."

I allowed myself a tired grin, "Excellent! Well, I'm off to bed, we'll sort out the specifics in the morning. Panam, feel free to stay the night. In fact, I insist on it. You look like hammered shit, and I don't want you driving on those roads late at night whilst half-asleep." I gestured for one of my team to show her to a spare room, and then left, practically collapsing on the bed, my body no longer able to withstand the strain of wakefulness. Within just a few seconds, I found myself drifting off, my eyes closing, any thoughts from the day left behind as I descended into unconsciousness.

I still had a lot of work to do, what with managing a war, a company, and a political campaign, but it could all wait for another day.

For now, I would rest.

And now, the war begins...
Panam is back, the plot thickens, and the Mayoral race is looking to heat up.
Feel free to comment and let me know what you think.
Hope you guys are enjoying the story thus far!