"Why the hell did they just retreat?"
Oliver deactivated the glow of his Kiroshi optics, watching the silhouettes disappearing into the night. Confused, he kept his finger off the trigger—no point wasting ammo.
"Probably decided it wasn't worth the effort and bailed," Jack's voice came from the first floor. "If they're not looking for trouble, neither are we. We should get moving too. Kiwi and the others are already gone, the jammer's offline, and Trauma Team is gonna be here soon since Jimmy Kurosaki's biomonitor flatlined."
"Doesn't Trauma Team consider a dead client a failed contract? Why would they still show up?"
Oliver frowned. No point in retrieving a corpse, right?
"Depends on the membership tier. Higher-end plans come with extra services—body retrieval, funeral arrangements, that kind of thing. Even Delamain offers those now."
"That still doesn't have anything to do with us, right?"
"Trauma Team considers anyone interfering with their mission a hostile. Best not to run into those money-hungry bastards—avoid unnecessary conflict."
Jack glanced toward Carl, who had just jumped down from the second floor. The look in his eyes made it pretty clear who he was worried about.
If Trauma Team was just retrieving the body, Carl wouldn't care—he respected the dead. But if they got pushy, tried to shove someone aside, or worse, zapped them with a stun baton...
Jack had a feeling they'd end up hanging from a rope, replacing Jimmy Kurosaki.
Completely unaware of Jack's thoughts, Carl holstered his Seraph, frustrated.
"Damn Arasaka bastards—why the hell are they so spineless? Not even gonna fight back? Would've been a good chance to get some target practice."
"Where's everyone else?"
Carl turned to Maine, who was sending out a comms update to their team.
"They made it back to base. Tanaka's hooked up, and they're extracting the data now. But it'll take a while."
"Got it."
Carl opened his contact list and made a call.
"We've secured Tanaka."
"Fast work. So, you got the intel yet?"
On the other end was Blanca, still grinding away at the office, like any dedicated corporate dog. Being on the clock meant instant response times.
"Still pulling the data. Might take a while. If you want it straight from the source, you could come grab it yourself. Save us the trouble."
"I trust you to get it done. I assume you'll have something worth my time?"
"Of course."
Carl caught the unspoken message.
The intel on Adamant Cyberware was what Militech wanted. But what Blanca wanted was something else—information locked inside Tanaka's head that had nothing to do with the job.
In other words—intel valuable to her personally.
"Next time we touch base, it'll be ready for you. Maine, ETA?"
"We're using Tanaka's internal admin privileges to bypass Arasaka's security on Adamant Cyberware. They fired him, but his stealth clearance hasn't been revoked yet. We're racing the clock, but we should have it all cracked by tomorrow morning."
Maine paraphrased Kiwi's report word for word.
"Need a hand? I know a little about netrunning."
"Lucy and I got it. Too many people just raises red flags."
Since Maine had relayed Kiwi's response, Carl let it go.
"So, what now?"
"We go home."
Oliver slung his Nekomata over his shoulder and headed downstairs.
"You guys can handle the cleanup from here, right, Maine? Nothing more we can do."
"We got it. Don't worry. We'll take care of the rest."
"Want a ride?"
"No need. I'll make my way back."
Hearing Maine's response and confirming that Kiwi and the others weren't being tracked, Carl and Jackie climbed into Oliver's Thorton Hera.
This gig had lasted just under two weeks, making it the first long-term job Carl's crew had taken from start to finish.
"500K. After the deposit and Maine's cut, we're left with 200K. That puts us at about 60K each. Any plans on how you're spending it?"
Settling into the driver's seat, Oliver already had his money earmarked. "Yeah, I'm handing mine over to Vik to get myself a Sandevistan."
"That Berserk model you mentioned?"
Jackie glanced over, curious. "Vik said he had some corporate supplier connection—did you ever find out which corp?"
"Nah, but for 60K, I can at least get a Sandevistan and test if my body can handle it. No point going high-end right away if it fries my system. I'd rather start low-tier than force myself into cyberpsychosis."
As Oliver spoke, an idea hit him. "Hey, what if I install a Kerenzikov first? That thing enhances reaction time, right? Usually paired with Sandevistans. Might give me a preview of what it feels like."
"Do what you want. Vik's got you covered. If your body can't handle it, he'll rip it out before it kills you."
Carl had full confidence in Vik's work, so his response was casual. Then, his comms lit up.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Is this KK?"
The voice on the other end was old, unmistakably female.
Carl's instincts flared. "Who's asking? And how'd you get my number?"
"For a fixer, that's no big secret. A merc in demand always has people looking for his number."
A fixer.
Hearing Carl's tone, Oliver and Jackie paused their conversation. They were just as curious about who this was. Carl, giving them a nod, continued.
"I don't deal much with Night City's fixers. Who am I speaking to?"
"Just call me Wakako."
Wakako?
Carl knew that name.
A fixer from Japantown—and she was reaching out to him?
"Got a job?"
"A small one. Standard rescue gig. Interested?"
"That depends. What's the pay?"
"Not much—30K eddies. If you're in, details are in the attachment. The client also hired a netrunner for support. If you take the gig, reach out to her—she might have useful intel."
"I'll take a look."
The call ended. Carl opened the attachment.
Whether or not he'd accept the job, checking it out was always worth it.
The first thing that caught his eye was the netrunner's name.
Her handle was…
T-BUG?
(End of Chapter)
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