04: A Faraday's Cage

Since we had intercepted Tanaka on the border of Heywood and Santo Domingo, passing from the Arroyo neighbourhood to the Glen, I had decided our rendezvous point should be in the opposite direction of Rancho Coronado to the east, just to be safe.

I did not want to give 'Saka counter-intel a trail of breadcrumbs to follow straight to my HQ.

Did I really think they'll never figure out that I was the one to pull off the kidnapping? Honestly, no, not really. Counter-intel was too good, had too many resources and let's face it, I just stood out in a crowd too much for anonymity to ever really be my forte.

The only reason I managed to maintain stealth on the gigs I did with Benedict to pay my debt to Rogue, had been because Lil' Dickie and I had a tendency to zero anyone we came across anyways.

Nobody can notice you if there's nobody left to notice you.

Not that Rogue had minded. A fixer of her calibre knows exactly the type of gig that best suits her pawns, so the targets she pointed me towards more often than not needed total eradicating anyways. I hadn't minded such gigs either, considering they were usually Scavs or Tyger Claws, and I'd zero those vultures and slavers for free, no ennies required. Now, Wakako, on the other hand, might protest a dozen or so of her boys ending up in body bags overnight, but even someone of her standing thinks twice when the detes of the Queen of the Afterlife are attached to a gig's description.

Even so, I tend to skirt around Japantown these days. Don't think they like me much up there.

Despite that, I had considered placing the rendezvous point there anyways, as Japantown hugs the northernmost parts of NC and is thus pretty far removed from my own turf down in southern Santo Domingo. I ended up deciding against it for two reasons: I've already stepped on Wakako's toes enough on Rogue's behalf as is. Sooner or later, the fixer is going to try and step on mine in retaliation and while she's not 'officially' Tyger Claws, perfectly willing to sell them out on a gig if the eddies are right, she still has enough pull in the gang through her nine sons that a small army can come down on Sasquatch's pack like a ton of bricks if the old bat calls for war.

Not that Sasquatch and her pack would exactly be opposed to fighting off a small army, considering Ma commanded well over double the people she did in the game in an effort to build up my 'inheritance', every single one of 'em roided out on Juice and rearing for a fight at a moment's notice.

Still, all out gang-warfare isn't exactly something I want to be responsible for, so I was willing to give Wakako some breathing room, for now at least.

The second reason was that, in order to reach Japantown from the Glen, we'd need to cross Corpo Plaza and that was skirting dangerously close to 'Saka HQ. There's tempting fate and then there's rolling up to Adam fuckin' Smasher himself and calling him a "cut of fuckable meat" straight to his synth-skin face. Or what little skin passes as his face these days anyways.

No, our safest, low-key bet was to move west through The Glen, follow the road as it turns northwards through Wellsprings and continuing up through Downtown, passing the City Centre and entering Watson. From there, we would cut through Little China to end up at the Arasaka Waterfront, the northernmost wharfs of NC and right on the edge of Northside Industrial District (or just NID or Northside for short).

Watson itself is the poorest, bleakest part of NC and Northside is basically the Watson of Watson. It used to a massive industrial complex (hence the name) housing thousands of workers, but following earthquakes and flaky investors, the entire district has fallen into disrepair and is near devoid of life. Skyscrapers have been constructed, not so much to offer the people of an NC a roof over their heads, but purely to shield the elite's eyes from a depressing view of the city.

People here have zero prospects outside of desperately clinging to the last struggling industries this side of Watson: if those go down, they'll go down too. No wonder a common saying here in NC is "You move to Northside, you'll die in Northside." Though often that's just interpreted to mean you'll catch a stray bullet from one the ubiquitous Maelstrommers. Between those 'borgheads and the abysmal living standards, the edge of Northside towards the port of Arasaka Waterfront is more deserted than the busy docks of Downtown.

Which is why I had chosen it. Closer towards Arasaka (and thus risking the 'calling their Butcher fuckable meat'-metaphor) but far more deserted than other places in NC with (most importantly) easy access to its water ways.

Sure, since we're on the subject of Adam fuckin' Smasher anyways, it's where he keeps his boat and a few of Johnny's goodies, but these days the rest of 'Saka doesn't really come down that way of NC anymore, leaving security in the hands of a Maelstrom crew. Which, honestly, wasn't much of a security force at all. Additionally, bringing a 'Saka target down near to the Arasaka Waterfront might fuck with counter-intel a bit on a psychological level (I hope).

Really, it was pretty much as ideal a place to drop off a high-value kidnapping target as you could get here in NC, unless you wanted to strike out towards the oil fields or set something up in the Badlands. But doing that was pretty much an unofficial signal to the other party you were planning to zero 'em on the spot and bury 'em in the shallow sands while you got them someplace no-one was gonna hear a gunshot anyways.

"Hey, you want to meet somewhere super-remote in the middle of nowhere, far removed from any possible back-up or escape routes, where we'll be surrounded by mountains of trash where a body can easily be 'disappeared' and will never be found in a million years?"

Honestly, if your answer to that is "Yeah, sure, meet ya there! 2:40 work for you?" then you deserve to get flatlined.

Most edgerunners tend to be just a tad smarter than that tho, so most deals like this tend to go down within the city-limits.

Compared to the other usual hotspots, this location was certainly the most remote and thus discrete. It even offered a lovely view of the spaceport off in the distance to boot.

Hell, if we're lucky (really, really, borderline-stupid lucky) maybe 'Saka will think we made a break for the moon colony?

That had been Dex's original strategy after all, before Goro Takemura tracked him down after the fixer flatlined V and ruined his retirement plans, so it's not like it's out of the realm of possibility as far as getaway ideas go. Even so, while it might be Lucy's dream, I wasn't exactly keen on strapping myself to a rocket and shooting myself up into space just to dodge the fall-out of Faraday's biz.

No, the plan was to use the docks at Arasaka Waterfront to get onto a boat I had arranged beforehand without Faraday's knowledge (I didn't want the duplicitous Fixer knowing even a shred about my true exit strategy after all), racing down the Del Coronado Bay and double back up the inlet past Pacifica's Coast View and ending up right back in Arroyo. With the push I had Sasquatch making recently from Rancho Coronado down towards the northern parts of Pacifica, it connected our territories in the eastern part of Santo to a stretch of turf we held across southern Arroyo as well, meaning a few of the docks were now firmly in the hands of the Animals, giving us free passage from the inlet towards our HQ.

Like I said though, I had made sure that Faraday knew exactly nothing about that part of the plan. Which is why we'd have to hole up at the rendezvous point in Arasaka Waterfront for a while, since we wouldn't be taking Tanaka with us back to Santo Domingo, handing him over to Faraday near the docks instead.

Well, Tanaka and a little surprise of mine…

The ride up through City Centre was a tense one and I noticed everyone in the Villefort Cortes (the V5000 Valor edition 'cause of the sorely needed extra headspace in the back that it provided) was fixated on looking through the rear-view mirror. Thankfully, even though this was City Centre and thus we came across more than a few of 'em, no more NCPD patrol cars opened fire on us that day and no more warning explosions needed to be set off, which did a lot to calm my nerves.

With a lifetime spent in the Animals and having worked closely with Benedict McAdams in the past (and on occasion Tiny Mike as well), I usually have more than enough experience to remain calmer than this, even on some of the more action-packed gigs. Then again, it was rare that I knew exactly what the grim consequences were of failing this particular bit of biz.

Dominic and I pretty much fill the spacious backseats of the Cortes just with the two of us and it's only her small size that keeps Rebecca from being smushed into paste as she's squirming on the middle seat between us. Glancing down at the tiny murder-gremlin at my side, my resolve hardens again as I plan for my meeting with Faraday.

This time around, we all walk away from this biz alive. Well, all aside Faraday of course.

I'll be making sure of it.

We collectively let out a sigh of relief when we passed the large bridge out of City Centre and into Watson. Even if we were to suddenly get a couple of NCPD Hellas and Overlords in pursuit, this was Little China: the moment those cops open fire, this entire neighbourhood will fire right back without question.

Now, if the NCPD sent a few Ironclads instead, or god forbid, a Zetatech Atlus, it was a different story and the people here were more likely to shutter their windows and dive down the belowground metrostations instead and honestly they wouldn't even be wrong in doing so.

If the NCPD pulled out the big guns like that, then we had done more than just trip a simple Scanner Hustle and it likely meant that MaxTac was kept on speed dial and would be following not long after.

It was how the Maelstrom crew from Faraday's previous attempt had found their premature (and bullet-riddled) end after all.

Thankfully, it really did seem things were finally looking up as we left Little China behind us and moved up towards Arasaka Waterfront without issue. Skipping a couple of rows of shipping containers and heavy machinery, we make our way towards one of the smaller docks, as far removed as possible from where Adam fuckin' Smasher's large scrap pile, the Ebunike, was moored.

As tempted as I was to klep back Johhny's Porche and his custom Malorian 3516 (and I was really, really tempted to get that gun back, I loved using it on all of my V playthroughs and in my new youth even made my own DIY-version by slapping a flamethrower under a Constitutional Arms Defender) the absolute last thing I wanted to do was drag Arasaka's attention down to the docks when I was there on risky biz already.

Noticing that the rest of my crew has clambered out of the Cortes as well, which is parked next to an old Colby (the regular C125 version this time) and a battered Galena, the getaway cars of B- and C-Team respectively, and are already making their way over towards a set of small nearby office buildings, I shoot the massive ship off in the distance a last longing look before turning my back on it with a sigh.

"Next time, then. I'll get you back again, promise." I mutter under my breath, before entering the run-down office as well.

The rest of the Predators I've employed for this gig are already there. The Lil' Dickie and Tiny Mike duo, being both ex-solos and having known each other longer, are huddled together in the corner of a nearby room, standing next to a long table absolutely covered in enough weapons it makes Rebecca squeal out and jump over towards them with large, glee-filled red-yellow eyes.

Shannon is leaning against the wall next to the entrance, smoking a low-quality cig and a Constitutional Arms Liberty clutched in her hand as she has her arms crossed over her chest. She's slumping somewhat, but one look at her eyes tells me she's keyed up and ready to delta the fuck outta here the moment I give the signal.

The ex-Nomad turned Animal-speed demon doesn't much like sitting still after all.

Through a clear plastic divide to the next room, I can see our target as well, stripped down to just his underwear, cables going from the port in his head towards a large tub placed next to the old corpo exec. On my order, Tanaka's arms have already been removed from below the elbow (I can see a bloodied machete tossed carelessly in a corner of the room next to the removed arms themselves and a veritable pile of slim, poisonous needles), the bleeding and oil spillage stemmed with tourniquets and a few MaxDoc's, though there's the occasional spark where my crew had to cut through some of the man's chrome.

As much as they disgust me, I can't fault the Scav's tech: if even with damage this severe Trauma Team hasn't busted down the door yet, then their biomon-jammer is scarily effective indeed.

Following the cables, I spot the final member of my Predators that I had assigned to Faraday's biz. Lying naked in an ice-bath is Sasha Yakovleva, eyes closed, her eyelids fluttering rapidly as she's hacking Tanaka's memories.

Even with the car-flipping and the explosions, this was the riskiest part of the entire gig. I don't really understand just how exactly cyberspace works in this world (to be fair, only the absolute top-tier netrunners, those scarce few on Bartmoss' level, actually do), but all I know is that, in there, everything can go wrong faster than a human can even blink. One moment, you're simply scrolling some data, walking through a rough rendering of a glowing hallway on your merry way, then suddenly out of nowhere you just tripped some counter-security daemon you never even realized was there in the first place and the next thing you know, your brain is leaking out through your ears.

And given the corporate level of ICE Tanaka is sporting…

An uncomfortable feeling rises up in me, like an itch travelling up my spine and dancing across my scalp and I turn away from the scene with a grimace. Mom must've rubbed off on me more than I thought: I find I don't much care for problems I can't solve by punching 'em in the face.

"No change ever since she began the dive. That's been 13 minutes and 43 seconds now Boss." Shannon speaks up beside me, having noticed my expression, and I nod at that before glancing Vasili's way.

My other netrunner scratches his thick chin as he brushes aside the hanging plastic, his eyes lighting up in blue as he goes over the read-outs projected on the screens against the wall behind Sasha's ice-filled tub.

"13 minutes? Hmm. Not bad, not great. Target has high level ICE. For what you want Sasha to do, it'll take time to get through that, extract the data and not leave traces. This is within expectations."

"And the… twitching?" I rumble, glancing towards the netrunner, before averting my eyes when said twitching does… noticeable things to her naked body.

"Perfectly natural phenomenon. Moving around through cyberspace relies on mnemonic actions. Those brainwaves steer your digital form, but even with the synaptic blockers and counter-ICE, some of those signals steer the body instead. Phantom-movements, they don't mean anything as long as she doesn't trash to the point of injury." Vasili rattles off, showing off Nix' training that I had paid so much for.

I give out a non-committal hum at that, remaining in place for a moment, before I shake my head.

"Fine. Keep an eye on her. The moment you think something's up, get her out. I mean it Vasili. I'm not risking her- anyone of you on Faraday's biz. Better we fail the gig than having to reserve a spot at the Columbarium."

My fixer nods seriously at me before returning to monitor the read-outs of Sasha's deep dive.

"Tiny Mike, you still got that NCPD scanner on you?"

Getting an affirmative nod from the ex-solo, I continue.

"Good. I want you monitoring their chatter. Getting a look at to what 'Saka is up to right now is too much to hope for, especially with Sasha already diving, but hopefully keeping an eye on the police might give us a heads-up if something is about to go down."

As the ex-Tyger Claw goes off to get his scanner, I glance behind me to Shannon, who pushes off the wall at my look.

"Shannon-"

"Perimeter check?"

"Perimeter check."

"On it."

And with an almost relieved look on her fac, the ex-Nomad quickly leaves the cramped office space.

"Dominic, Benedict and Rebecca. I want you ready to turn the Waterfront into a fuckin' warzone if someone so much as looks towards the docks, got it?"

"Sure thing, Simba!" the tiny woman yells back, while the burly men at her side share a look before giving me a nod as well.

"What will you be doing, Boss?" Benedict asks, sounding genuinely curious.

For a moment, I remain silent, a claw scratching thoughtfully through my bushy sideburns. I don't want to shoot Faraday a message until after Sasha is done with her deep dive and like I said, without her we really have no way of monitoring 'Saka counter-intel to see what they're up to. I also don't want to contact Ma and see what's going on back at our turf either. I'll do that when we dropped Tanaka off with Faraday and made our way back towards Arroyo. Don't want to risk any outgoing signals to our home territory for counter-intel to possibly pick up on. Hell, I didn't really want any outgoing signals save for the one that would get Faraday to come and show his fucked-up face 'round here.

Patrol the perimeter with Shannon? Honestly, looking out towards Adam fuckin' Smasher's stash off in the distance time and time again might push me right over the edge and see me going over there towards Ebunike docks so I can rip Jeremiah Grayson in half and take Johhny's gun right off his corpse.

What? It's a helluva gun and it's a crying shame it's in the hands of absolute scum like that bastard Grayson. Or did you think you can get to be Adam fuckin' Smasher's right-hand man by being nice? Grayson has put more bodies in the ground than some entire Animal packs put together. Sometimes, he even got paid for doing it too.

Hell, if your V let him live, he'll go back to his girlfriend, the hooker Johnny picks up while trying to find leads on Adam fuckin' Smasher, and zero her for leaking the intel on Ebunike.

Trust me, nobody's gonna shed a tear if that guy gets flatlined and tossed in the Morro Bay, least of all his big, high-functioning cyberpsycho boss himself. Well, I mean, the full-borg probably physically can't cry anymore, but the point still stands.

I drag my large paw down my face with a sigh as I look back towards Benedict, shrugging my broad shoulders and taking Shannon's place, leaning against the wall near the door.

"What else can I do? Until some gonk shows up here that needs to be flatlined, all I can do it wait. Wait and worry." I rumble, thick arms crossed over my huge chest.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Rebecca glance from me to the room where Sasha is diving, a disappointed expression flashing over her face before it's gone and she approaches me with a small, comforting smile on her face.

"Hey, she'll be fine, big guy. She's good, real good and Vasili's here now to keep an eye on her." She says as she reaches up on her tiptoes to pat my upper hip (since that is as high as she can get compared to me).

I smile down at the tiny woman, my expression thankful.

"Appreciate it, 'Becca. Thanks."

"Don't mention it Sim." The woman dismisses as she goes back over towards the table, against all reason and common sense picking up an LMG half her body weight with a worrying grin on her face.

Both Benedict and Dominic simultaneously lean away from the chuckling woman as they share a concerned look behind Rebecca's back.

Shaking my head at the sight, I focus again on Sasha's ice tub, consciously keeping my breathing deep and steady. Hurry up and wait, huh? Ain't nothing to it, I suppose.

As I once again close my eyes and drift off to an almost meditative state of semi-awareness, I can't help but think of what my netrunner has to do in order to flawlessly traverse the corpo exec's mind, memories and 'Saka levels of ICE.

'Sasha, just… be safe, alright?'

Night has fallen and in all that time, none of my Predators were able to fully relax, constantly expecting either a nearby Maelstrom gang, the NCPD or god forbid, 'Saka counter-intel itself to come crashing down on our heads like the meteor the moon-colony Tycho used to turn Colorado Springs into a huge fucking crater.

Not exactly a comforting prospect and with outside communication cut off, we all began feeling cooped up in the little office space. It got bad enough I eventually had to completely wrap Rebecca in duct tape to the point she resembled a tiny silver-grey mummy and secure her against the ceiling.

She had been trying to bite Tiny Mike.

Well, that was what he claimed anyways. Judging from 'Becca's muffled shouting audible even through the plastic over her mouth, she had a perfectly fine explanation.

I'm almost tempted to reach up and remove the tape over the gremlin's mouth out of morbid curiosity as to what she's come up with, when out of nowhere Sasha sits up straight in her ice bath with a gasp.

Only a second later I'm at her side, helping her out of the freezing water and swaddling her in a blanket big enough to fit me (meaning for a brief moment she's positively swallowed by the cloth until she wiggles about enough she finally manages to pop her head out the top with a breathless laugh).

"You good?" I rumble and it takes Sasha a few steadying breaths before she gives me a nod.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Deep diving is never easy, and his ICE was tough. But we got everything we needed and I didn't leave any traces. That's why it took so long: it's difficult to erase your own tracks in cyberspace as doing so leaves their own as well." The netrunner explains, heavily sitting down on the chair I pulled up for her.

A slim hand comes up to the slits in her neck, removing a shard and handing the chip over to Vasili as she glances up at me with a satisfied little smile.

"All the intel you were looking for Sim."

"And Tanaka?"

"Unaware and unspoiled."

Sasha's startling blue eyes, with their signature bright pink circles around her irises, flit towards the slumped over mutilated form of Tanaka, and she wiggles her hand, pale with metallic black fingers, back and forth.

"In a manner of speaking I suppose."

She turns up her cute lil' nose at the overweight middle-aged man as she looks away from him with a grimace.

"Good riddance too. You know the kind of kinks this slimeball is into? Disgusting."

Well, considering the show revealed he's a top client for the XBD-editor Jimmy Kurosaki (a man who made violent snuff his calling card), yeah, I can imagine the kind of shit rotting away inside Tanaka's mind.

Sasha shivers in a way that shows it has nothing to do with the cold.

"Ugh, I definitely need a shower for my brain after tonight." She laments and hesitantly, I reach out to pat her shoulder.

She smiles at me for that, resting her head on my large hand with a sigh and I immediately get rooted to the spot.

God dammit, what is it with this woman?! This never happened to me before and Ma has practically been throwing me at girls ever since I began growing out a beard when I was fourteen in the hope for grandkiddos and the "beginnings of a new, superior human race!" (her words, not mine).

Trying to distract myself from the netrunner and her annoying effect on me, I focus on my other netrunner instead (this one thankfully far less cute) as I wrestle my head back into the game again.

Vasili has already slotted the chip in his own cyberdeck, eyes briefly going blue as he reads the shard, before removing it and placing it in those cardholders that are littered around Night City for V to find and discover the lore of this world through.

"She's right, everything looks clean boss."

"Good." I rumble, accepting the card and slipping it into one of my many pockets lining my sturdy panelled cargo pants.

One of the (very few) benefits of living in a cyberpunk dystopia: so many pockets, zippers and belts! It's enough to make Rob Liefeld blush.

I turn to glance at the still shivering Sasha.

"You did good." I repeat, in a somewhat softer tone this time and something uncomfortable blooms in my chest when the cute netrunner gives me a beaming smile in return.

Fighting down the blush that tries to work itself to my cheeks ('Come on man, what are you doing, it's just a chick, she's not even your output, you're a goddamned hardened gangoon who has killed scores of men, don't let her amazing eyes and cute face distract you from… from… wait, am I blushing inside my mind?!') I focus on the rest of the Predators.

"Alright, I'll shoot Faraday a message soon. Take the Thortons, leave the Villefort. I want you all waiting by the docks for me, I'll face Faraday alone. If I don't show, delta the fuck outta here and race your asses back to Sasquatch. If everything goes right, tonight ends with that fucker flatlined while we're on our way back towards Arroyo without him having ever seen your faces. If 'Saka counter-intel takes him in alive though, all they'll find is him dealing with me and I can take care of myself."

"You shouldn't need to though." Benedict suddenly contradicts me, to my surprise.

He remains standing firm, thick arms crossed in front of his broad chest as I shoot him a warning look.

"Look, Boss, appreciate you lookin' out for the rest of us, but we can take care of ourselves too. 'Sides, we're your crew: 'supposed to look out for you too." The nicest merc in NC explains and to my surprise I see the other Predators nodding as well (even Rebecca, still duct taped to the ceiling).

I'm touched. I sorta expected something like this from Vasili and Dominic and maybe Shannon too, considering they were Animals like me. Possibly Mike as well, since he's been running with my crew for the past two years now and never once complained about it.

But even 'Becca and Benedict, who had only joined my crew relatively recently, seemed completely sincere.

A slim hand slips into my far larger one, its metallic fingers pleasantly cool against my warm skin, and gives it a gentle squeeze and I look down in surprise to see Sasha giving me an encouraging smile, which only further adds to that unfamiliar warmth in the centre of my chest.

"Look, I agree with McAdams here, but I gotta say Sim, not sure how I feel 'bout you planning to screw over a fixer. They got connections all over NC and beyond, it's what makes 'em fixers in the first place. Trying to get one flatlined can backfire real easy." Tiny Mike says cautiously, showing his history as a gangoon and solo.

"Fair enough." I grant as I move away from Sasha and reach up to remove Rebecca from the ceiling.

"But, he was perfectly willing to screw us over first. 'Sides, Faraday ain't as bigtime as he likes to think he is. He won't be missed, believe me. A year from now, two years? Nobody livin' on the Edge is even gonna mention the guy, 'cept maybe as a footnote in someone else's legend. Trust."

I finish unravelling the maniacal tiny woman from the mass of duct tape she had been covered in and place her back on her feet.

She glares daggers at Tiny Mike and snaps her chompers a few times at the merc, but my massive hand on her head keeps her in place.

"Like I said, I can take care of myself. Faraday is the typical fixer: leaves his fighting to his huscle and there ain't a hired merc in NC tough enough to keep me from flatlining every gonk in the room if he tries to piss me off and he knows it. He won't put a hit on me during negotiations. Screw me over, undoubtedly, and if things went royally tits up today, he might have sent his corpo overlords running here instead. But I got what he really, desperately needs and he knows he can't just zero me and be done with it: he'll sit down at the negotiating table with me, whether he likes it or not. And to be honest, I can do without a bunch of trigger-happy Predators sitting at that table with me. Space is cramped enough as it is and guns tend to make huscle nervous." I explain as Rebecca slumps somewhat as I give her a look showing exactly who I mean by 'trigger-happy'.

"Besides, Tiny Mike-"

"Ain't that Tiny." The hardened solo pouts.

"You are when compared to me."

"Everyone is when compared to you."

"Anyways, Tiny Mike, I won't be the one betraying Faraday after all. As far as he will be able to tell, he ordered me to get him Tanaka's intel and that's exactly what I'm gonna give him. But fixers are only ever a middle-man, meaning it's actually someone else who ordered that intel from Faraday. And he's gonna be in for a nasty surprise when he tries to deliver his package." I say with a broad grin showing off my sharpened teeth.

"Uhh… how come?" Dominic asks, his heavy face pulled in a confused frown.

When I reveal the rest of my plan for Faraday, it's quiet in the office space for a moment, before Sasha, now fully dressed again (and I very firmly and mercilessly crush the part of me that's a bit disappointed at that) walks into the main room, towelling off her still-damp hair and giving me a searching look.

"Damn. You're good." She says, before Rebecca points a finger at her with a loudly yelled "aha!".

"So good he's evil, right?!"

"… sure?"

After that, my Predators and I quickly got to work tearing down all our equipment, loading it into the spacious Colby station wagon (and torching everything that couldn't fit in the far smaller Galena) and within minutes my crew had piled into the two Thortons, leaving me in a bare office space with just an unarmed (ha! Get it? … Jeez, Rebecca has been rubbing off on me too much) corpo exec for company. The Galena is already tearing off towards the pier where I stashed our boat, but Sasha, seated beside Barrett, leans out of the Colby's window, seemingly hesitating for a bit.

"Simba, just… be safe, alright?" she says and all I can do is smile and wave as Barrett floors the gas and they're out of there.

For a moment, I remain standing in the cold night of NC, considering the two calls I'll have to make now, before heading back into the office space, glancing briefly at the snuff-loving, armless corpo exec, who, in another life and another world, would've been the cause of all the tragedy slated to happen to the naïve David Martinez.

"Well, looks like it's just you and me for now, buddy. But, just be quiet for a moment, will ya? Got a call to make." I joke at the unconscious corpo, before activating my Phone Splice, my eyes taking on that signature orange glow people get when making a call.

The phone barely even rings before a perfectly manicured voice on the other end speaks up.

"Militech International Armaments, Night City offices speaking: for a better NUSA tomorrow, and a safer today! Please, identify yourself immediately."

If Tanaka was awake to see the vicious grin growing on my face, he'd probably pass out all over again.

"Get me Meredith Stout. Immediately. I have something that will interest her very much." I growl back down the line and for a moment it's utterly silent.

Then:

"Please hold."

POV Shift

As Faraday rolled up to where the Brute had told him to meet (he refused to refer to the disrespectful behemoth as anything else), the fixer glanced towards their surroundings, his four cyberoptics taking in the view in a flash and with minute detail.

Remote and on the edge of the run-down Northside district of Watson, it was a decent enough location for some discreet biz, though Faraday felt slightly dirtied even setting foot in Watson in the first place.

He had hoped to leave this place forever behind, burnt it from his memories and mannerisms even, and it galled him to be dragged back when he was so close to leaving all of Night City's crumbling dregs behind for the pristine high-rises of Corpo Plaza.

The scowl on his face deepened and he glanced towards one of his huscle, raising the brow above his three stacked eyes. They didn't have that much of an added benefit to his visual feed, but the way they were placed so close together tended to freak people out and a destabilized opponent makes for smoother biz in Faraday's experience.

The huscle has been on Faraday's payroll long enough to know better than to stare though, instead jacking out of the fixer's Thrax 388 Jefferson, the penultimate vehicle for those that did not need to spend the waste of eddies on a Rayfield. Having surveyed their surroundings, the huscle shook his head in the negative.

"Villefort outside, but shut down. Multiple track marks on the asphalt however, meaning multiple vehicles. Cold though, no recent arrivals or departures as far as I can tell."

"Inside?" Faraday merely asked, expression unchanging.

"Two heat-sigs, though one is getting undercooled."

"Dying?" the fixer pressed, four eyes flashing in the dim interior of the stately Jefferson, but the huscle quickly shakes his head again.

"Doesn't look like it, just cold, sir."

Faraday mused for a moment, before giving his huscle the ok signal. Hired mercs, the best eddies could buy and more than enough to zero the Brute should the Animal attempt to pull one over on Faraday.

The thought would've been almost laughable to the fixer: an Animal, trying to outsmart him? Preposterous. However, as the Brute had proven by turning him down before, this particular specimen possessed some low level of cunning at least, not to mention a great deal of infuriating stubbornness.

It was not outside the realm of possibility the leader of the subsect of Animals would again attempt to move beyond his station and… inconvenience Faraday once more.

However, while Faraday was annoyed, he was hardly worried about the Brute actually managing to pull of any plans of betrayal or deceit. He was Faraday, Night City's most prestigious fixer: it was he who was always two moves ahead of his opponents.

Faraday was drawn from his musings as his huscle finished their sweep, giving him the 'all clear' signal and with a minor sigh, the fixer left his sleek Thrax Jefferson, tasting the Watson night air and sorely wishing he hadn't.

As he slowly strode towards the squat, run-down office building, his three eyes took in the towering skyscrapers standing tall and proud along the Arasaka Waterfront in the distance and greed and envy raced across his circs and bloomed inside his chest.

'Soon. Very soon. Once this biz is done, Militech will have no choice but to hire me for their Intelligence division. No longer will I be confined to orchestrating meaningless biz for destitute citizens; the very cogs of the corporate machine of Night City will halt or turn at MY say-so!' the fixer thought to himself, allowing his huscle to enter the building before him, just in case.

Seeing that the man in front wasn't immediately decapitated or torn to shreds by the Brute's enormous clawed hands, Faraday crossed the threshold as well, allowing his four eyes to land on the infuriating gangoon that had been such a pain in his ass for the past month.

The Brute was seated behind a table, while somewhat behind and beside him sat the slumped-over, unconscious form of Tetsuo Tanaka, Arasaka executive and Faraday's ticket to his new life on Militech's bottomless wallet.

The fixer's eyes slowly tracked down to rest on the overweight man's amputated arms, his face betraying nothing. Deliberately dragging his multi-eyed gaze from the bloodied, oil-covered stumps to the carefree looking Brute, Faraday allowed a glimmer of distaste to show on his face.

"Sloppy." was all he said as the rest of his huscle, five men in total, filled into the room.

Anyone else, anyone with the proper reverence for a man of wealth and power like Faraday, would be cowed by the show of force, but of course the Brute refused to acknowledge it, still grinning and showing off those sharpened teeth of his.

"Hey, Animal remember? It's how we roll." The Brute half-heartedly defended himself with a shrug of his shoulders, and for some reason Faraday couldn't shake the feeling that the Brute's tone was ever so slightly mocking him.

"That is undeniable." Faraday conceded, stalking over towards the table and taking a seat across the Brute.

He couldn't quite suppress his annoyance as he still had to look up at the Brute, who almost managed to occupy the entirety of his side of the table just by himself. He made the fixer feel small, even when just sitting down.

Faraday hated feeling small.

"Such as the explosion you caused just past Megabuilding H3 while running away from the police. Just the way you… 'roll', I take it?" Faraday intoned, satisfied to see the Brute's eyes widen in surprise as the beast gave a few slow blinks.

'Caught you' he thought with an internal smirk, though his face remained stern and unyielding.

Leaning a bit forwards, he continued in a scolding tone.

"Did you really think I would not notice that Surpon of yours? Or realize you'd ditch it and swap to that Villefort outside? Nothing escapes my notice, 'Simba'. You should've realized that by now." he chastised, satisfied to see the Brute curl his massive claws into meaty fists, each one larger than Faraday's head.

Though he leaned a bit further back in his chair just to be certain, his huscle on high alert as they kept their eyes on the scolded Brute.

"I take it you got rid of everything I supplied you with?" Faraday inquired, picking off a piece of imagined lint from his Neokitch jacket.

The Brute merely shrugged, scratching his cheek and somehow managing not to tear open his face with those enormous, wicked looking claws of his.

"If there ain't nothing left, then there ain't nothing that can be used to hunt us down, right?" the Brute attempted to reason, though Faraday grudgingly had to admit the enormous Animal had a point.

Even a broken clock is right twice a day, the fixer supposed.

"True enough. Though, very costly. For me. I had supplied you with that gear in good faith, in order to accomplish the task I set you. Procuring it was… an inconvenience. One I need repaid. So, it's decided: I shall be taking the cost for the equipment out of your final payment."

"Oi! I ain't decided on shit yet!" The Brute heatedly called out, one massive hand tipped with those barbaric claws of his coming down on the metallic table with a tremendous slam faster than the fixer could track.

The impact was horrendous and a chill went down Faraday's spine when he saw how the table had deformed underneath the Brute's rage, its top sporting an enormous crater and its legs bent underneath the strain.

Anymore force and it would've snapped clean in two and the behemoth hadn't even needed to get up out of his chair.

Faraday almost leapt back at the sudden, explosive attack, when his huscle as one immediately snapped up their weapons, sights trained dead on the Brute's centre mass. The view of the guns paused the giant in his tracks, as the vicious Animal visible had to restrain himself and Faraday had to work hard to keep a smug smile off his face.

"No. But I have. And therefore, it is decided." He stated and after an intense stare-down with the fixer's hustle, the Brute deflated.

"Man, you're twisting my balls here Faraday! Hell, ya even offered me a bonus on the payment if I got all the stuff instead!"

"Which you, might I remind you, chose to decline. Placing that burden on me instead." Faraday immediately cut off the Brute's whining, who let out a frustrated huff, before it finally admitted defeat.

"Fine. Fine! Ya got me, take back the fucking ennies, see if I give a damn. Should be a decent take still…" the Brute muttered, and this time Faraday did allow his smile to come to the fore.

"Not so fast. We're not done settling our accounts yet."

"What?! Oh, come on! I got you your guy, didn't I? You ask me to get you a guy, and here!"

The Brute reached over to Tanaka's slumped form, engulfing the exec's head in a hand large enough it managed to cover it completely with ease. Lifting Tanaka's head up and twisting it in Faraday's direction, the Brute pointed at the Arasaka corpo with an exasperated look on his face.

"Here he is! As ordered!"

"No. I did not order… that." Faraday clearly enunciated, as if he were talking to a (very, very large) small child, ignoring how Tanaka's jaw dropped open and his tongue flopped out as his head was being manhandled by the uncaring Brute.

"Wha-?"

"I ordered the information in that man's head. Not… said head itself still attached."

"What, you want me to take his head off? Thought you said you didn't want him flatlined?" the Brute asked dumbly, and Faraday was quick to interrupt him.

"Of course not, you fool!" he quickly shouted, leaning forwards and sharply waving the Brute away from Tanaka's head.

He wasn't about to watch his future meal ticket be turned into paste in those oafish hands because of the Brute's low understanding of merc work.

"Since you failed to provide me with the intel, I will now need a netrunner in my own employ to extract the information from Tanaka's head instead. Meaning that, so far, you have cost me an inordinate amount of Eurodollars in gear and will now cost me even more to obtain that which you had already promised to deliver me."

Faraday pulled up his nose at the Brute.

"Quite frankly, at this point I'm wondering why I should even pay you at all, instead of marking the gig as failed." Faraday idly intoned, all four eyes staring down the Brute who looked at the fixer in shock.

"Wait, what?! I got you your man didn't I-?" he tried, but once more Faraday interrupted the Brute's shoddy attempt at defending himself.

"Which is the only reason we are still sitting at the same table, instead of me being back in my Chevillon and turning my back on this decrepit shithole they call Watson." The fixer bit out, finally managing to properly cow the Brute as the enormous Animal sulked in his seat.

"No further comments then? Good. You will take whatever scraps I send your way. I will take Tanaka and try to salvage the mess you made out of a simple retrieval gig." Faraday stated and that was that, the Brute having no choice but to bow to the fixer's decision.

As it should be.

Lazily, he motioned over towards one of his huscle to retrieve the comatose corpo exec as he got up out of his seat, striding towards the back of the room, his many eyes, and those of the rest of his huscle, intently trained on the sulking Brute.

Something had been bugging Faraday ever since he stepped foot inside the same room as the Brute, a tingling itch crawling ever so lightly across his skin. The Brute had proven recalcitrant and mocking at their every interaction, yet had also shown to possess enough low cunning to connect Faraday to his previous failed attempt in utilizing Maelstrom for the biz.

Of course, that had been entirely the insane boostergang's fault, not Faraday's, though to his unending frustration and growing hate, Rogue Amendiares and her antiquated cronies refused to see it that way.

Not that they mattered. They were but mere fixers, intermediaries, fancying themselves above Night City's residents, but only finding themselves brushing up against the underside of the corpo's boots.

And, after tonight, his boots.

Oh, he could barely wait to waltz into the Afterlife and have Rogue serve him drinks. Perhaps he'll even order her to name a drink after him as well? The first edgerunner to have a beverage named in their honour without dying for it! Ha!

… if everything went as it should tonight and as Faraday stared down the moping Brute, that uncomfortable not-quite itch dancing across his circs and skin returned in full force.

Considering how infuriating the Brute had proven to be in the past, daring, daring to besmirch his reputation, Faraday fully expected the ridiculously sized Animal to overstep his station once again, born out of a dangerous cocktail of maliciousness and ignorance.

At any moment now, he foresaw the Brute lashing out at his huscle in a misguided attempt to keep Tanaka hostage in return for more eddies. A part of Faraday almost hoped that the Brute would prove foolish enough.

It would give him an excuse to shoot the man.

A larger, more rational part of Faraday merely wished to get this biz over with as fast as possible so he could get out of Watson and get started on his new, better tomorrow already.

But he had been waiting for this dream his life entire life: he could wait a few hours more.

Which is why he motioned back his men when the Brute dangerously rose from his chair, placing his broad frame square in-between Faraday's huscle and Tanaka, a low growl rumbling from his chest. His merc was well-built, decently chromed and with several aesthetically imposing biomods, yet when standing chest to chest like that, the huscle found himself merely on eye-level with the Brute's sternum instead.

The behemoth was eyeing the merc with a dangerous, almost calculating look in his eye, but a simple signal from Faraday had his huscle pull back the hammers on their weapons.

The satisfying sounds of the repeated 'clak-clak!' sounding out throughout the room caused the Brute to still his movements, glaring impotently at Faraday from an appropriate distance away. His lips peeled back to show elongated fangs and his hands were spread to show off those barbaric claws, but he made no move to attack. Yet.

"You have already lost, 'Prince'. That is just the nature of business, one which you are simply… unsuited for. Do not lower yourself any further by acting like the child you are and accept this loss with what little grace your kind can manage." Faraday coldly sniped towards the fuming Brute, who gave him a long, hard stare as the silence in the office room stretched on.

Then, finally, the Brute moved away from Faraday's huscle, reaching behind him, engulfing both of Tanaka's ankles in one massive hand and effortlessly hauling the overweight corpo in the air so his head was dangling a good meter off the floor. With an ease that belied the feat of strength, the Brute then extended his arm towards the baffled looking huscle, treating the comatose Tanaka as if he were some kind of ham.

Somewhat perturbed, Faraday's huscle awkwardly took the large middle-aged man into his own arms, before with a huff of effort, he lifted the overweight corpo up onto his shoulder as he quickly made towards the exit of the office building.

As Tanaka was carried over towards Faraday's impressive Jefferson, Faraday's many eyes lit up, showing his account balance as he prepared to send the eddies the Brute's way, but to his surprise the dumb Animal raised a clawed hand in protest.

"Ey, just a heads-up, I prefer credit chip over transfer." The Brute called out, his voice showing nothing of his previous frustration, and the non-itch from before came back with a vengeance as Faraday narrowed all four of his eyes.

"Why." Was all he bit out.

It wasn't even a real question, more a demand for elaboration packed into a simple command.

The Brute stumbled a bit, once more scratching his cheek with those enormous claws of his.

"Well, ehh… I had this fight, just this morning? Over in the Tripple Extreme Gym? Feller got in a good smack to the head, knocked my chrome all outta whack. 'Sides, it's an old-gen deck anyways and-"

Faraday easily cut off the rambling simply by raising his hand, shutting the Brute up. His many eyes flitted over towards one of his huscle, the same that had surveyed their surroundings back in the car. The man didn't have eyes, just two solid blocks of metal, small LEDs lighting up as the man did a quick dive into the net.

-Confirmed activity in Tripple Extreme Gym, Rancho Coronado, Santo Domingo. Sources state likely gang violence.- the huscle silently messaged him.

Hmm. The Brute wasn't lying about the fight at least.

"Your cyberware is so shoddy, a simple brawl is enough to damage it to the point of inoperation?" he asked coldly.

"Oi, we Animals fight hard yanno!?" the Brute defended himself hotly, but again Faraday managed to cut the Animal off with a mere gesture.

Good. It was learning.

Well, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility he supposed. After all, the Animals were noted for focusing more on growing their ridiculous muscles rather than taking care of their implants and being the utter dregs of NC, said implants were inevitably of the poorest quality.

Faraday thought on it for a moment, but eventually decided that it was ultimately no skin off his back. The very thought of not needing to connect to the Brute, even if it was a mere digital transaction, relieved him more than he'd ever care to admit, so with a shrug, he took a credit chip from inside his Neokitch jacket (a genuine Jinguji no less!) as he extended the interface cable in his wrist and connected to the large shard.

His four eyes lit up for a moment, once again showing him his impressive account balance, before the large number dipped ever so slightly as it transferred the Eurodollars onto the credit chip. A pittance for him, but honestly more than enough for the Brute and his frustrating (and costly) antics.

Disengaging his interface cable from the credit chip, he casually tossed it onto the table with a careless swing of his arm, letting the plastic clatter across the countertop as it settled into the deep dent left by the Brute's fist.

"Very well, have it your way. I'll mark the contract as closed. Our biz is finished." He intoned gravely, and then he swept out of the office space and stalked over towards his Jefferson.

The less time spent in the foggy air of Watson, the better. Let the Brute have his table scraps: Faraday would be in a new world come tomorrow, one that would never again necessitate dealing with such infuriating gangoons such as the beastly Animal.

Seeing that Tanaka was tossed in the trunk of his elite Chevillon, Faraday stepped into its luxurious interior, his eyes already glowing orange as he called up a new, if proven, contact of his.

Almost immediately, the call was taken. Prompt. He liked that in a woman.

"Kiwi. Get to my apartments. I'm bringing in a target for intel-extraction."

"This a deep-dive?"

"Indeed."

"I'll need-"

"I know. It will be waiting for you. Do not make me wait in return."

"… will be there."

And with that, the line went dead. Faraday frowned at that for a moment, before dismissing the recalcitrant woman with a shrug. Very well. Come tomorrow, he would have more joytoys thrown at him each day than one could find walking down the length of Jig Jig Street, where that old bat Wakako fancied she swung the sceptre.

He spent the ride back to his apartments fantasizing on how he'd lord his new position over his former rivals, from the dried-up Wakako, to the boorish Dino Dinovic and even to Rogue Amendiares.

Especially Rogue Amendiares.

The Queen of the Afterlife? Pah, what a joke! All she was Queen of, was a run-down bar for mediocre mercenaries so they could pretend that they mattered. After tomorrow, Faraday would be King of Night City itself! He need not be on the Board of Directors for Militech (though after having proven himself, they'd undoubtedly ask him for the position regardless), but CFO for the branch here in Night City?

Lucius Rhyne would come to him for advice and permission! He was but a mayor, after all: Faraday would have the ear of the president of NUSA herself, considering the White House had essentially become a conference room for high-ranking Militech personnel over the years.

He distracted himself with daydreams all the way to the top of his penthouse apartment, pleased to see Kiwi already naked in his swimming pool, a series of screens and a chaotic mess of equipment placed near the pool's edge.

Motioning over towards his huscle, he had them throw Tanaka's body into the pool as well, silently amused by the frown marring Kiwi's covered face as she glanced in distaste from the growing stain of blood and oil spreading from the corpulent corpo.

"Didn't say he'd be so damaged." She spoke up flatly, causing Faraday to halt his strides and allow his three stacked eyes to slowly slide down towards her, lingering on her exposed body for a long moment as he let the silence grow heavier.

"Will it interfere with your deep dive?" he asked coldly, and the netrunner, uncomfortable under his gaze, averted her eyes.

"No. It won't." she said simply.

"Then it need not be said. Get to work."

"What if Trauma Team-"

"Taken care of. Damage like that, they would've shown up already. Good to see the Scavs came through on their end, at least. Dealing with those lowlifes is… tiresome, but it can't be denied: they delivered one useful little biomon-jammer." Faraday elaborated, before turning to face Kiwi with all four of his eyes.

"Now then, if that takes care of all your worries?" he inquired, his voice polite but his tone anything but and Kiwi ducked her head instead of talking back again.

"Good. Get to work. Now."

The blue-nippled netrunner glared at him, but gave no further resistance, turning Tanaka over so she could reach his interface port as she prepared for the intel extraction that the Brute should have already taken care of.

"Watch her. Notify me when she's done. I have a call to make." He ordered his nearest huscle, who quickly bowed their head as he stalked past them.

Leaving the pool behind, Faraday made it up to his personal chambers, activating the Phone Splice as his eyes took on a yellow glow. The outgoing ring took only a moment before the call connected.

What he heard on the other end took him by surprise however.

"Yes, hello? Who the fuck is this and how the fuck did you get this number?" a woman showed up in his HUD-screen, with bright blonde hair and an expression seemingly made out of steel.

"I might ask the same. I was expecting someone else to pick up-"

"Well you're the one calling, you should know who it is you're contacting." The woman cut him off and Faraday felt a muscle in his jaw pull in anger.

"I was told to use this number in relation to my contract with Militech, in order to update my Militech liaison, Anthony Gilchrist. Which isn't you, so I'd suggest putting him on the phone instead of interfering with his biz." he cautioned the arrogant woman (probably a secretary of some kind), who fell silent for a moment, before her eyes took on a wicked gleam.

"My name is Meredith Stout. Former Senior Operations Manager, Night City department, currently Government Relations Executive for Militech International Armaments. And I just shot Anthony Gilchrist this afternoon for violating corporation policy and ethics. So whatever 'contract' you had with Militech through him… you now deal with me." She stated and the earlier itch Faraday had felt when dealing with the Brute returned a hundredfold.

"Well then. As the Militech contract holder, it's my pleasure to inform you our biz has concluded and that I am awaiting payment in return for the promised goods." Faraday pushed on, his tone the same yet his words now picked with more care.

Let it never be said he wasn't the adaptable sort.

"Well, you never promised any goods to me, so I agree that the biz is concluded and that payment won't be necessary." The woman said in a dismissive tone and it took all of Faraday's impressive self-control not to show a hint of the rage he felt roaring inside of him.

"I must disagree. Militech agreed to payment-"

"Gilchrist agreed to payment and as of today he has been… let go."

"Even so, payment is required for the goods." Faraday attempted, but still the woman brushed him off.

"What use have I for the goods of some mere unknown Night City edgerunner?" and for a moment, all Faraday saw was red, the line between them cackling with static for a moment before he got his emotions under control again.

"I assure you, what I have to offer Militech is of unimaginable value."

Finally, the woman seemed to actually start listening to him, humming for a long moment before glancing at 'him' through their connection.

"I'll think you'll find that Militech can envision quite a lot." She said somewhat cautiously, but Faraday was not deterred.

"Undeniably true. But, the same can be said of Militech's rivals as well. Specifically the great thorn in Militech's side: Arasaka. Gilchrist may have… violated corporate policy, but his ambition was sound. What I can offer Militech, Arasaka loses. It will be a great win for your company and a great feather in your cap."

The Stout woman was silent for a long moment, her eyes narrowed.

"I must inform you that it is official policy of Militech International Armaments to condemn the use of corporate espionage in the strongest terms." She stated woodenly, but Faraday merely chuckled.

"Of course, of course. Naturally. But, that is the great advantage of working with, and through, someone of my personage. As an outside agent, any information I just so happen to come across, I am free to share with whomever I so choose and should that turn out to be Militech, well, who is to blame?" he said with an easy smile.

Again, Stout allowed the silence to stretch for a few moments.

"What exactly are these goods you 'just so happened' to come across then?" she eventually asked with narrowed eyes.

"Only the very best of course. Highly detailed plans and schematics for extremely advanced combat augmentations, classified by Arasaka as an experimental antigrav cyberskeleton-" Faraday proudly began, but the voice of Meredith Stout halted him dead in his tracks.

"Yeah, not interested." The woman spoke up in a bored tone.

"W-what?" the fixer muttered, for once his composure broken as he looked at the woman in shock.

"Militech has no interest in those plans of yours."

"I… I don't understand. Militech came to me asking for these schematics-"

"Again, Gilchrist asked you. Militech is just fine without your plans. We simply do not have a need for what you're trying to sell."

"Assurances were made!" Faraday now roared down the line, but still the woman was not impressed.

"Not by me." She simply said and with a last little smirk, she ended the call.

Shocked into complete silence, Faraday could only stare at the 'Call Ended' sign blinking on his HUD, watching with unseeing eyes how the message changed to 'Contact Blocked: You can no longer Call this number!'.

"W-what…?" was all he could whisper, before he was suddenly shocked from his inaction by an enormous flash coming from the deck below his suite.

Jumping up and hurrying out of his room, he rushed towards the pool, seeing his huscle moving in a confused and chaotic stampede as they crowded along the edge of his swimming pool.

"Move! Out of my way! Fuckin' move you useless gonks!" the fixer roared, unintentionally letting some of the street language from his youth, which he had worked so hard to eradicate, shine through in his panicked speech.

Physically pushing aside the last huscle in front of him, Faraday looked into his pool and felt his world coming apart around him. Smoke was rising from the water and the charred figures of Kiwi and Tanaka were floating motionlessly among an ever-expanding stain of blood.

"W-what… what happened?" he whispered in shock, one mirrored by his men.

"What! Happened!" Faraday snapped with a roar, grabbing the nearest huscle by the throat and pointing his pistol right between the man's eyes.

"We don't know Boss! The netrunner says she had jacked into Tanaka and was going to start her dive, everything was fine for a few moments, then they both spasmed and this huge fucking lightning storm came from the corpo's body!" another huscle quickly tried to explain in a hurried voice, but his answer only caused more questions.

A Microgenerator? But those only kicked in when you were knocking on death's door… Faraday's eyes once again looked at the amputated arms of Tetsuo Tanaka and the pool of blood that was growing ever larger. He hadn't even considered that the man's bleeding had started up again. The corpo had seemed fine (well, not fine, but stable at least) when Faraday came to pick him up from the Brute-

… no. No, no, no! No that was simply not possible! To precisely time his own medical aid to fail so that Tanaka would bleed out in Faraday's pool at exactly the right time to fry both his netrunner and himself-

Wait, if he fried himself… then the Scav jammer-!

The very moment the thought shot through Faraday's brain like lightning, a red square was beamed onto his pool as a voice came over speakers from above.

"Step away from the client!"

Looking up, Faraday saw a Trauma Team descend towards him. Some of his huscle foolishly opened fire, but the heavily armored and well trained corpo soldiers riding along the flying tank didn't hesitate in mowing his men down like wheat in a field.

Though Faraday didn't stick around to watch, immediately making a run for it once he spotted the AV with its signature white livery, dashing back into the penthouse. He sorely wanted to grab his hold-out bag and getaway chips, but those would have to wait, absolute speed was of the essence. Gun held at the ready, he dashed through several luxurious rooms, for once cursing the spacious lay-out of his penthouse as he had to duck and crawl over his rich carpets as bullets began shredding the walls.

"How?! How the fuck did this happen?!" Faraday couldn't help but roar in sheer frustration and blind rage as he steadily made his way over towards his elevator.

He knew it, even if he couldn't bring himself to accept it.

The Brute. That boorish, oafish, smug Animal. It was the only explanation. He had access to Tanaka for too long before calling Faraday for the pick-up. He wasn't sure how, but the Brute must've successfully extracted the intel despite his claims and then sold it to Militech himself first, causing them to leave Faraday out to dry.

No wonder the gargantuan Animal hadn't pushed back too hard on the budget cuts Faraday had made. He must've made a fortune before the fixer ever even entered Watson.

During that time he must've kept Tanaka alive and stable, greedily using Faraday's biomon-jammer to do with the corpo's body as he pleased short of killing the man without tipping off Trauma Team. Such as cutting him open, installing a high-powered Microgenerator, and sowing the man back up again. Which also meant the Brute needed to stabilize the corpo long enough for Faraday to pick him up and he had been too eager to get his hands on the intel the Brute refused to provide him to take proper medical precautions first.

As Faraday finally came upon the hall to his elevator, a chilling realisation wormed itself into his mind despite his best efforts.

He had been played.

Jamming the 'call' button on the elevator with a roar of unbridled fury ripping from his throat, Faraday vowed revenge on the Brute. He swore he'd tear down the man's entire world first. His entire gang, wiped out. His personal crew, killed to a man and hung from the Atriums in all of NC's Megabuildings for all to see. That disgusting creature the Brute calls its mother, made into a joytoy by the Tyger Claws, whored out to Maelstrom for petty eddies and finally, whatever parts remained of her, sold off to the Scavs to keep.

And then, and only then, would he put a bullet in-between the Brute's eyes.

Faraday was nearly salivating at the thought, when the elevator finally arrived and opened its doors… and showed itself to be occupied already. The fixer only caught a brief glimpse of towering, black steel and glowing red optics, before something immense impacted his chest like a freight train, launching him back down the hallway.

Faraday didn't even manage to make a sound as he landed, lacking the air in his lungs to do so. As he flopped around in silent agony, it was only then that he registered that the rest of his penthouse had finally gone quiet as well: all of his huscle lying dead or dying at the hands of Trauma Team, who was already fishing Tanaka's mangled body out of the pool.

Heavy, stomping footfalls approached the prone fixer, who only then realized that he had been punched, instead of hit in the chest with a car. Weakly raising his head, Faraday's blanched even further and had he any breath remaining in his bruised lungs, it would've left him at that moment as he stared up at his assailant.

A towering monolith of blackened steel and red lights, a monument solely dedicated to violent bloodshed and wanton destruction, Adam Smasher himself stood besides the shaking Faraday, glancing down towards the prone fixer with his monstrous face and glowing optics shadowed by the low light of the hallway.

"P-please… I… I-I can tell you… I can tell you who's behind this! Just… Just get me into contact with your bosses, with anyone at Arasaka, I can help you, please!" Faraday begged the steel monster, tears flowing from all four eyes as he raised a hand weakly towards the full-borg in a pleading gesture, sheer desperation pushing the words from his hurting lungs.

For a moment, Adam Smasher remained completely motionless, a perfectly still obelisk as the distant lights of Night City fell across his metal form. When he spoke, it was in a slow, deliberate cadence seemingly coming from the dead itself.

"Who the fuck are you?" Arasaka's Butcher asked in a callous, static tone.

The last thing that Faraday ever saw, was the enormous 'borg raising up a mechanical leg the size of a small tree, before his foot descended towards the fixer's face with speed rivalling a bullet.

And then Faraday, one of Night City's top fixers, one who by this time tomorrow should've been among the greatest and wealthiest people in all of NC, knew nothing anymore.