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Chapter Forty Seven
September 2 nd , 2077
Night City, Northern California
The Monastery, Rancho Coronado
Cyrus didn't like leaving loose ends, and in his mind, the Sixth Street Gang was the mother of all loose ends. His patience with Alex Decker and her Patriot faction was beginning to wane, but through no small amount of effort, the Captain was now ready to remove the stain that is Wil Gunner's influence.
His foundation had finally been chipped away after a long and methodical process involving political maneuvering, assassinations, and sabotage. Ten of the twelve companies in the Sixth Street Gang were now firmly in Decker's grasp, and Gunner entrenched himself at his headquarters.
The Monastery was the beating heart and soul of the Sixth Street Gang for decades, and a direct assault upon its ramparts served no one any purpose but a quick death. Decker could only dispatch four of her companies to the Purist HQ because the Animals were still a viable threat that would undoubtedly take advantage of the Militia's internal strife and expand their territories.
The only surefire way to bring down the fortress without bleeding her men dry was to insert Cyrus, his Bloodhounds, and a platoon of Sixth Street Basilisks drawn from each Patriot Company via a HALO drop directly over the stronghold.
Casualties were expected, and Cyrus was more than willing to spend Sixth Street lives to bring the entire Militia into the fold.
What was at stake could not be undersold.
If Decker could take complete control of the Sixth Street Gang, then the whole of Santo Domingo would immediately fall under Cyrus's influence.
This takeover would provide the Spartan two staging grounds for his Custodians to utilize when they finally marched upon Night City. Taki Kenmochi and her Astral Claws were on the verge of establishing complete dominion over Westbrook, and all they needed to do was eradicate a few Animal and Valentino incursions.
By the end of tonight, Cyrus would have complete control of two Night City districts and be poised to take control of a third. He had his sights set upon Heywood and the Valentinos, but such a process was merely a dream until Wil Gunner was dead.
Chamber contracted a Boeing C-25 Cargo Plane to do a single sortie over the Monastery at twenty thousand feet. Iwasaki and his Bloodhounds would have to share a transport with the Basilisks led by Captain Demetrius Stone.
There was a long and bloody history between Iwasaki and Stone, a history that reflected their subordinates as each detachment boarded the transport in curt silence.
These sentiments arose from the Bloodhounds time as premium Tyger Claw enforcers during the TC and Sixth Street war. The Bloodhounds had undoubtedly slain a few Basilisks in their time, and the Sixth Street Operators had done the same in return.
Thanks to the spacious cargo plane, Iwasaki and his men maintained their distance from their former adversaries, and the atmosphere was chock-full of tension.
Cyrus didn't care for Iwasaki and his concerns with mixing his Bloodhounds with the Basilisks. He found it pointless to reminisce about how many people died during the war between the Sixth Street gang and the Tyger Claws.
Someone needed to bury the hatchet between the two sides, and Cyrus was disappointed that Iwasaki was not the first to come forward.
Captain Stone breached the hidden veil and stepped towards the Bloodhounds as they prepared for the coming battle. As Demetrius drew closer, Falcon slid his hands coolly to his sidearm, spotting the errant militia commander long before any of his fellows.
Iwasaki intercepted Stone before his more volatile Bloodhounds got their hands on him, specifically Vulture and Ocelot. Both had suffered grievously from numerous skirmishes with Basilisk operators, losing friends and loved ones in a war that at one point had no end.
Vulture and Ocelot could be trusted not to make mistakes in the field but not when the architect of their suffering was within their grasp. Iwasaki sent Falcon and Leopard to cool their heads before they came unglued.
Neither Bloodhound nor Basilisk said a word to one another at first, instead exchanging distrusting stares in a silent battle of wills. Their subordinates looked on with bated breath, some standing on their heels with a weapon not far from reach.
"Stone." Iwasaki's harsh tone mirrored his visage hidden underneath the ONI mask.
"Iwasaki." The Sixth Street Captain mimicked his former adversary's tone, his voice muffled by the balaclava covering his countenance. "Wasn't sure it was you underneath that mask. You Bloodhounds emulate each other like cockroaches, can't tell the difference between any of you."
Eagle sneered at Stone's remark and took a dangerous step towards the Captain, threatening to escalate tensions.
With both sides kitted out in their combat gear, the lingering tension now threatened to explode at any moment.
Cyrus had been nodding off in the darkness behind the Bloodhounds, his arms folded and head bowed low as he rested against a far wall. Exhaustion was a dangerous thing to experience on the battlefield, and he enjoyed the small moments of rest he could get.
And these two morons were making it their mission to ruin his beauty sleep.
"Eagle…." Every human soul flinched at the sound of the Spartan's bellowing voice. The Bloodhounds were less influenced by Cypher's unexpected emergence than the Basilisks, but they were nonetheless startled.
Falcon and Vulture ceased their heated conversation and made way for their Sensei, crossing their arms across their sternums in a silent salute followed by the rest of their comrades.
"… Is there an issue that needs to be resolved?" Even though both men glared at one another with blatant contempt, the unspoken threat did not go unnoticed. Neither Iwasaki nor Stone were insane enough to defy the Spartan's will, one out of respect, the other out of fear of what their defiance would necessitate.
"No issues here, sir." Stone turned away from Iwasaki and cautiously eyed the towering Spartan. "Commander Decker speaks highly of you, and her word is law nowadays…."
The Captain hesitated for a moment before turning towards a simmering Iwasaki. "….We Bloodhounds make friends or corpses out of our enemies, and I can confidently say that there are no corpses here."
Stone snapped a salute towards Cypher and returned to the safe confines of his platoon. Iwasaki's contempt ebbed away as the proximity between himself and the Captain increased.
When the cargo hold became drenched in red, Cyrus gave his lieutenant a neutral look, and whatever words could have been spoken went unsaid.
"Pucker up jumpers!" Their pilot, a seasoned smuggler that made a living transporting cargo over the border, lowered the C-25's cargo ramp. "Sixty seconds to drop."
"Get your team ready, Iwasaki." Cyrus caught his arm before he could turn away. "And don't disappoint me."
"Yes, sensei!" The Bloodhound saluted and dashed towards his squad, barking instructions and jolting his men from their stupor.
Cyrus eyed his subordinates carefully, paying particularly close attention to Vulture. The Bloodhound was marked as an OPSEC concern after Decker handed Cyrus the Basilisk's personnel list.
The history between the two groups would make or break this operation, and Cyrus sorely needed Iwasaki and his Bloodhounds to see the bigger picture.
If they proved to be incapable, then Cyrus would remind them of their new allegiances.
Violently if necessary.
Falcon managed to catch his gaze and sent the Spartan a respectful nod before dragging his volatile companion to their armory.
Cyrus could only hope that Falcon and Iwasaki could temper their companion's aggression before he had to get involved.
" Oxide, Monarch Six here. Are your teams ready to go ?" Decker was in charge of two Companies stationed outside the Monastery walls. Her personal guard and other Patriot assets on standby were itching to kick Wil Gunner's teeth in.
"Approaching the drop zone. All assets are green for incursion."
"All of them?" She was just as concerned about a violent altercation between their subordinates as he was, but Cyrus trusted his men to be disciplined in their approach.
"We're ready, Decker," Cyrus stressed while securing his Copperhead to his MJOLNIR. "You trusted Stone to put his loyalty to you over his hatred for Iwasaki and his crew. You would never have sent him up here with me if you didn't think he could handle it."
Decker gave a resigned sigh of concern. "… Just make sure he gets out alive, Cypher. Stone is one of my best, and losing him would be a major blow to morale. Sovereign and Monarch Company are standing by to assault the Monastery once you've brought down their security systems ."
"We'll get it done, Oxide out." Cyrus proceeded towards the C-25's ramp before turning on a dime calling out to his anxious operators. "Rally up!"
Bloodhounds and Basilisks mixed together in a congested school circle around the Spartan. There was no attempt by either Iwasaki and Stone to separate their men because sooner or later, they'd have to all start tolerating one another.
It also helped that no one was stupid enough to cause a scene in front of Cypher.
"We have our objectives." Cyrus could feel the familiar weight of rapt gazes resting upon his visor. "Take control of the security tower operating the automated turrets and execute a kill or capture order on Wil Gunner. Follow my beacon, and don't stray from my signature. Any questions?"
"No, sir!" Cyrus was satisfied that there wasn't a soul on board who didn't acknowledge his words.
"Good." As the transports ramp finally lowered, he turned his back on Bloodhound and Basilisk alike, allowing a courageous few to stand beside him.
"Ten seconds!" The pilot's voice echoed through the cargo hold. "God be with you!"
Beams of sunlight shined into the C-25's interior, giving its passengers a breathtaking view of the Night City skyline. One might be fooled by the city's magnificence high above the clouds, but like all things, its true nature is revealed once you live amongst its people.
Cyrus aimed to correct that.
As the cargo hold was bathed in a dazzling green hue, the Spartan glanced towards his followers. Most followed out of necessity, while others were dedicated to Cypher's cause, but in the end, they were all here for the same goal.
To remove the stain and corruption plaguing their homeland, and the purge would begin with Wil Gunner.
"… Try and keep up." Both Basilisk and Bloodhound were more than happy to accept the challenge presented to them with a smile.
Cypher activated his MJOLNIR's boosters, darting out of the cargo hold and barreling towards the Monastery at breakneck speed. In most instances, Cyrus would have been hesitant to jump off of a moving plane with his MJOLNIR, but a field test of a modified MK-28 Jump pack in San Lucas assuaged his concerns.
The Spartan and his Bloodhounds were tasked with assaulting the security tower. Iwasaki and his team would gain entry at preselected points through the structure's windows, and he would work his way from the second floor towards the top.
As Cyrus gazed upon the Sixth Street fortress, his mind became clear of all distractions and focused upon the task at hand.
It was time to get evil.
For PFC William Hayes of the 22nd 'Paragon' Section, the beginning of Operation Breakpoint started with him killing a fucking chicken.
Hayes crashed through the roof of the fortress's granary, fifty meters south of his designated drop point where the rest of his squad was supposed to land. It didn't take long after his botched landing for gun battles to break out between Purist and Patriot personnel.
After stumbling his way out of a nest of broken eggs and covered in yellow yoke, the PFC immediately opened up on a squad of Loyalists hunkering outside the storeroom with his M251s Ajax, and one of the ballistic rounds cut the head off a panicked chicken.
Thankfully the embarrassing display of marksmanship wasn't witnessed by any of his squadmates. Otherwise, they'd add another moniker to a long list of unwanted nicknames he'd already received.
Hayes eyed the ivory tower currently hosting Cypher and a pack of wild Bloodhounds. He didn't have the greatest opinion of his longtime rivals but now was not the time to dwell on old grudges.
While the Bloodhounds secured the tower, Paragon's objective was to maintain a perimeter around the structure's base and buy time for Cypher or one of his men to override the security protocols.
The sooner Commander Decker and her men stormed the Monastery, the sooner Wil Gunner's corpse would swing for his treachery, and everyone could go home.
Paragon Two-One, Hayes' squad, took up residence inside a pair of sandbag fortifications north of the security tower. The bodies of the Loyalists who had guarded the bunkers were now stacked on top of the sandbags.
Their treachery and continued loyalty to Wil Gunner revealed just how deep the corruption inside the Sixth Street Gang ran.
Every member of Parker's army was incensed that their former commander would willingly sacrifice their lives so carelessly. Gunner prolonged the war with the Animals purely to remove those who would seemingly oppose him inside the command structure. Too many of their brothers and sisters had died due to his negligence, and they would not be sacrificed to satisfy his greed.
"Hayes, wh-re the f-k are you!" His squad leader, Sergeant Johnathan Kerr, attempted to communicate to him via radio, but the Monastery's comms jammer was scrambling the signal.
Twenty meters to the south, Hayes's team leader, Corporal Allen Finley, was engaged with a squad of Purist riflemen alongside four other Basilisk's. The ferocity displayed by the Loyalists soldiers was remarkable in a sense.
Rifles and machine guns poked out of every sandbag fortification, boarded up window, and fortified rooftop. Each time his Ajax's magazine was used up, Finley replaced the barking of 5.56 with a steady staccato of .45 caliber hollow points.
Hayes joined his team moments laters, sliding behind the sandbags and pressing his back against the hardcover. Finley shot him a sideways look before ejecting the spent magazine in his Ajax.
"What kept you?" The team leader asked.
"Missed my drop," Hayes explained, adding his Ajax to the staccato of gunfire." Where's Kerr?"
"He's up ahead with Luplow's team!"
Sergeant Kerr and four of his men were across the street engaging a squad of Patriot riflemen. The NCO exchanged lethal volleys of disciplined small arms fire with his Ajax, turning a pair of Loyalists into sacks of meat.
As Hayes was about to turn away, Kerr collapsed, a puff of red billowing from his back.
"Fuck! The sarge is down!" Finley's composure faltered as he watched Specialist Burns and Corporal Luplow drag their stricken sergeant into cover.
"Damn it all." With Kerr down, Finley immediately took charge of Paragon One. "Luplow, do you copy?!"
Finley watched his fellow team lead fiddle with his helmet's visor before responding as static momentarily commanded their squad's communication line. "… Yeah, I hear you, Finley! What do you need."
"Is the sarge ok?!" Finley sighted a Loyalist Gunner just as he was about to deploy his HMG with a burst of 5.56 to the jugular. Hayes followed up his kill shot by gunning down a pair of Berserkers charging towards their position.
"He's pretty fucked up!" Luplow replied as bullets bracketed his position. "We need to fall back before these fuckers overrun us. Burns is trying to stabilize Kerr, but he's losing blood fast!"
"I'll see what I can do!" Finley switched to the platoon-wide comms to raid their platoon commander. "Captain Stone, come in over!"
"This is Paragon SIx say again, Two-One." Finley ducked his head just in time to avoid a wave of heated shrapnel as a shoulder-launched rocket smashed just a few feet ahead of their hardcover.
"Son of a bitch!" Hayes wasn't as lucky. A jagged piece of metal sliced across his forearm and embedded itself into his shoulder. Specialist Rodriguez, their fire team's medic, slid over to him and began tending to his wound. "We need to get the fuck out of here, Finley!"
"I'm fucking trying!" Once again, the Corporal attempted to raise their Captain. "Paragon Six, I need backup on my location! I have a platoon-sized element pushing our position, and Sergeant Kerr is down over!"
"Paragon Six copies all, Two-One, but we cannot assist you at this time. All available elements are in heavy contact. Maintain the position as long as possible over!"
"Roger that Six, Two-One out!" Finley disconnected his radio but couldn't help the heat in his voice. "Fuck!"
Hayes emptied his Unity into a pair of Loyalist Rangers attempting to rush their left flank, clipping one and killing his partner. Private Tyler Houck followed up his wounding shot with a bust of 7.62 from his Copperhead, putting down their former brother before he could retaliate.
The Private dropped back into cover just as a wave of bullets washed over them. "Well, this fucking sucks."
"What are you bitching about, Houck!" Specialist Benjamin Cavaka chastised while lobbing a pair of grenades at a Loyalist Sergeant. "You signed up for this shit."
Hayes watched with grim satisfaction as the NONCOMM's body was cut down by shrapnel, and his men were left leaderless and momentarily disorganized.
Luplow added to the carnage by firing off a single HE missile from his PLS cyberware. The miniature rocket was designed to penetrate armored vehicles and detonate its lethal cargo inside the crew space. As Luplow fired, the missile screamed past a Loyalist squad and slammed into an approaching APC, igniting its ammo compartment and melting the flesh off the skin of its crewmen.
To Luplow's right, PFC Antoine Carlson mounted his MK.31 on their sandbag emplacement and tore into a trio of Loyalists riflemen who had the misfortune of crossing his sightlines at the worst possible moment.
Their bodies went airborne, slamming into the ground as HE rounds continued to smash into those Loyalists left standing.
Luplow was braced against his cover, popping in and out of shelter in between bursts of concentrated Loyalist fire.
The Corporal turned to his right to direct his grenadier, PFC Ryan Karrington, to target a cluster of Loyalists when he was startled by a sudden flash of pain running down his left arm.
Just before he found cover, a Loyalist Ranger fired off a ballistic shell that pierced through his combat rigs harness and bit into the meat of his right shoulder. He let out an excruciating groan that drew Burns' attention.
"What's wrong, you hit?" Burns crawled towards his team leader, auto doc in hand.
"Yes, I'm fucking hit!" While the specialist wrapped Luplow's wound, a cry of pain and a muffled slam came from his right.
"I can't fucking see!" Carlson's hands shot up to his visor, cradling his helmet in panic while Burns tried in vain to check his wound. A crack formed in the right side of his combat helmet, shattering his visor but otherwise leaving him with only a splitting headache and cuts just above and below his eye.
Carlson barely survived a gunshot wound to the side of his head. The round was likely a ricochet that lost just enough kinetic power to avoid a kill shot but left him temporarily disoriented and blind.
"Karrington, get on the fucking gun!" The only thing holding the Loyalists back was their MK.31, and its HE tipped bullets. The PFC seized the HMG's stock and pulled the barrel towards a Loyalists Officer, leading two squads of men in a blind rush towards their position.
Karrington recognized the officer as Lieutenant Ryan Fillmore, a platoon leader from Crossbow company that he went to basic with before transferring to Paragon. Fillmore was a good man with a clear mind and propensity to lead his troops from the front.
It was a shame that Fillmore chose the wrong side, and the only mercy he could offer his former comrade was a quick death.
Karrington pulled the trigger, feeling the recoil reverberate through his shoulder, and watched as a burst of HE smashed into Fillmore's nostril.
The Patriot Lieutenant went down in a heap; his nerves belatedly registered its headless corpse. Karrington wasted no time in granting Fillmore's men no time to react to their commander's death, gunning down a trio of riflemen with concentrated fire and forcing the rest behind cover.
Casualties mounted on both sides with each passing second. The loyalists had lost nearly two platoons from their reserve company but were still rapidly diverting units from the perimeter.
Loyalists Basilisks soon began to mix with their lesser counterparts. Hayes and his squad were the first to notice more disciplined and accurate fire falling upon them.
Decker's strategy was quickly surmised by Gunner once Paragon made landfall. He hadn't expected an aerial assault from the Patriots and placed the majority of his veterans on the walls.
A tactical error on his part that he was moving to rectify.
The battle lines soon became a jumbled mess, as Basilisks traded killing shots with one another over moderate distances. Captain Stone needed his platoon to tighten their perimeter to prevent a breach in their line and ordered three of his squads to fall back towards the tower's base.
"Oxide, this is Paragon Six. We're getting hammered down here. What's the eta!?"
The radio channel went silent, and Stone glanced towards the security tower. Even in the midst of barking firearms and earth-shattering explosions, he could glimpse flashes of gunfire from the structure's broken windows.
The Bloodhounds were still engaged in combat with the Loyalist garrison, but their communications were failing. Stone was forced to make the difficult decision to abandon their current positions and move his platoon into the tower's lower lobby.
"Paragon Six, to all squads, fall back to the tower! I repeat, fall back to the tower!" By the time Stone's arrived just in the nick of time, allowing each squad of Basilicks a route out of the killzone that was slowly starting to form around their current positions.
Hayes and his squad collected their wounded and executed a vicious fighting retreat under intense small arms fire from the loyalists.
Hayes was one of the chosen few to lead a rearguard action while his team leader shuttled their dying squad lead and his wounded squadmates into the lobby. He and Specialist Jamie Carragher were providing cover for their retreating platoon along with eight other Basilisks.
Their position was being bracketed with small arms fire, and Hayes had difficulty figuring out where to point his barrel. Bullets seemed to be coming from every direction imaginable, and tungsten rounds chipped at the concrete over Hayes's head.
He spotted a black outline followed by a series of muzzle flashes from a second-story building to his eleven o'clock. Hayes gave Carragher a signal, and he promptly pointed his PML at the structure, firing an anti-personnel rocket through its tube.
The specialized missile slammed through the boarded-up window and impacted the wall behind the Loyalist's gunmen, killing four and wounding another five Loyalists in the process.
"Paragon Six to Two-Three Bravo fall back into the tower now!" Carragher gripped his helmet, unknowingly ducking a bullet in the process.
"Roger that Six, we're falling back." Carragher turned towards his makeshift squad. "Hayes and Wade, watch our six. Everyone else move out!"
Hayes and his chosen partner, Corporal Carl Wade, dismounted their positions and threw a pair of smoke grenades in front of them. Wade was lugging around a Defender LMG and was slower on the uptake, so Hayes let him fall back into the tower first.
At the worst possible moment, a lucky burst of gunfire broke through the smoke and cut Wade's feet out from underneath him.
"Fuck! I'm hit!" The Corporal cursed to himself, turning onto his back and leaning forward. He braced the stock of his Defender against his right shoulder and unleashed a barrage of 7.62. The rounds clipped the visor of a Loyalist Basilisk before a single bullet buried itself through his throat.
"I got you, Wade!" Hayes rushed towards the downed Corporal, grabbing his harness with his left hand while adding his Ajax to the barrage of gunfire. The smoke that had served as their concealment whithered away, and Hayes was exposed to Loyalist gunfire.
Several of his comrades took positions on either side of the entrance to cover Hayes when a Loyalist brandishing a rocket launcher popped into view.
"Rocket!" The PFC froze as a red-tipped missile streaked towards him. Fear coursed through his veins, but instinct took over him. Hayes threw his body over Wade's as both men curled into the dirt in an attempt to save themselves from the oncoming rocket.
They needed a miracle to survive this night, and fate intervened at the last second.
A humanoid missile fell from the heavens and intercepted the rocket mid-flight. Hayes could scarcely believe his own eyes as the Headhunter drove his fist through the warhead without a moment's hesitation.
*BANG!*
Dirt and debris rained in all directions, and the Loyalists immediately recognized the severity of their situation-those few who spent far too much time entertaining themselves with their regular debauchery were not excluded.
As the smoke settled and their eyes widened escalated; only the ignorant did not recognize the towering phantom breaking through the haze.
Cypher had arrived.
Wil Gunner.
Unlike the vast majority of others who came before him, his name drew no attention and received no fearful glances from his men. Those who truly knew the Sixth Street Commander understood that his power lay in knowledge and influence.
Gunner is described by his subordinates as an all-seeing vulture, always watching for the next piece of game to tear into. He sought power not through force of arms but through coercion of those around him to execute his will.
He reached the peak of influence amongst the Sixth Street Gang by ensuring that every influential voice fell under his sway. When the final vote to name Colonel Graham's successor, a majority of the officer voted in his favor.
And those few who defied his will swiftly became a thorn in his side.
Alex Decker appeared to be on par with him in every aspect. During their meetings with other Sixth Street senior officers, the vexing woman was a constant thorn in his side. Decker consistently went against his machinations, denying promotions to those loyal to him and transferring his most capable officers to shore up other companies.
However, her influence was dictated by Colonel Graham's favor. The man had a vested interest in keeping the woman he had raised from dirt close to him. Decker was in every way the light to his universe after his wife's death at the hands of a Tyger Claw raiding party.
With Graham meeting a timely death at the hands of a Tyger Claw Bloodhound, Decker's protection and power within the Sixth Street Militia whithered and with it any chance to assume the position of Colonel.
Decker failed to garner enough support outside Monarch and Sovereign Company to challenge him for the mantle, but her stubbornness and the loyalty of her men kept Gunner from removing her from the board.
Gunner sought to use their war with the Animals sought to grind down her support base through attrition, but this proved to be a protracted strategy that would take far too long to accomplish. He was content to leave Decker patrolling the edges of Sixth Street territory within the confines of Complex 29-B.
It was supposed to be a throwaway assignment to hamper her influence inside the command structure, but it unwittingly gave Decker a base of operations for her insurrection.
Gunner failed to adhere to the old saying, keep your friends close and enemies closer.
Losing sight of the Captain proved to be a critical error on Gunners' part, and rumors abounded that Decker's sudden belligerence in Sixth Street politics was due in no small part to a silent benefactor supporting her insurrection. The unexpected deaths of significant Purist officers such as Captain Jacoby Hall ignited a fervor amongst the Patriots.
Gunner was losing men, territory, and influence at an alarming rate. Gypsy Company, one of his best infantry sections, turned traitor alongside numerous former Purist-aligned units such as Serpent and Grizzly Companies.
The loss of Paragon Section was a massive blow to Purist morale, and the losses seemed to stack one after the other. Gunner was forced to entrench his remaining loyalists inside the Sixth Street Gang's fortress-monastery and prepare for a prolonged siege.
Above all, Gunner was perplexed by Decker's speed and tenacity, which essentially swept the rug out from under him. She wasn't a military genius by any means.
When commanding Monarch Company, Decker's tactical acumen was sub-par compared to a majority of her fellow officers. Her talents lay in his line of work, and they were equals in the field of intelligence and espionage, but somehow she had managed to hide her movements from his spy network and, in some cases, infiltrated it all together.
Given the failsafes he had in place, this was meant to be impossible, and for a time, Gunner was left stumbling in the dark, unsure where and how he had gone wrong.
Then whispers reached his ears that Decker had a mysterious benefactor aiding her from the shadows. Someone with enough technical and practical know-how to infiltrate his network and mask her movements.
Gunner should have realized that Cypher was involved far sooner, but he was certain that the Headhunter was interested in Corporate politics and not the internal strife within his own Militia.
As Gunner watched Decker's Patriots breach the monastery walls, he realized he had made one final miscalculation. The lower plaza was filled with the familiar logos of Monarch and SOveriegn Company soldiers.
This was the end, and Gunner wasn't entirely sure what came next. Depending on Decker's mood, the surviving Loyalists in Crossbow, Fox, and Diamond Company may be spared or exiled.
Crossbow Company's commander, Captain James Kirksey, was a fine man with a history with Decker. Kirksey did not fervently support the Purist cause, but he did believe in the line of succession and felt a fanatical desire to uphold the chosen hierarchy, albeit blindly.
Kirksey would survive at Decker's request and try to persuade the Captain of her righteous cause. Gunner was confident in his prediction, but as he tended to the half-empty flask of pure American whiskey, his worries centered upon his uninvited guest.
"Is it over?" The Headhunter withdrew from the darkness, his slow gait coming to a standstill a few meters from Gunners desk.
"It is." Gunner watched as years of political maneuvering and manipulation were undone in a matter of months as the last of his forces crumbled into retreat or capitulation.
Gunner's story had come to a screeching halt, and his end drew closer with each passing second. All that was left was to figure out how the last pages would be written and the method in which this conclusion would be carried out.
*CLICK*
The Colonel had spent his entire life around firearms and was familiar with the faint snap of a disengaged safety.
So this was the way his world ended.
Gunner downed the last of his whiskey, savoring the bitter taste one final time. He inhaled a deep breath of fresh air and exhaled the spent contents with brevity.
Cyrus patiently allowed the Sixth Street Colonel his last few moments of peace, raising his Unity and pressing the barrel directly into the man's forehead. The Spartan was seconds away from pulling the trigger when Gunner abruptly spoke up.
"Do me a favor…." Gunner hesitated, and only a subtle nod from Cyrus gave him the courage to continue. "… Make it count."
Whatever could be made of Gunner's deviance and treachery, he was never a coward. In his line of work, cowards did not last long, and when his time finally came, he would greet it with open arms.
In another life, Gunner would have ruled as a king of the Sixth Street Gang.
But fate determined that this Headhunter would exist in this plane of reality and that Wil Gunner would join an untold number of corpses upon which the Commonwealth's foundations were built over.
He took some solace that his death would unite the Sixth Street Militia, albeit underneath the Headhunter's gaze.
And as Gunner stared down the end of the barrel, he realized that there were worse ways to die.
So he welcomed death with open arms.
*BANG!*
Another day, another loose end tied up. With this victory, another district of Night City falls under Cyrus's sphere of influence. That means, Westbrook, Watson, and now Santo Domingo.
But the war for Night City is a long and arduous tale and we are just getting started.
As always I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and remember to PLEASE! review to your heart's content every little bit helps my motivation.
No review responses this week came down with a nasty cough and not feeling well.
Next Chapter: November 15th
The next chapter is available on my Pa t re on for those who would like to see it. The Link is below.
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