"T-BUG, I need backup."
"Weren't you off wining and dining that Militech woman today? What's with the sudden emergency line?"
"Those ex-ACPA pilots I warned you about—they finally reacted after losing two of their own. No idea how, but they snuck past Blanca, somehow kept her in the dark, and launched a hit on us here in Night City."
"Ohhh. Got it now."
T-Bug's tone was breezy, almost amused.
"I already pinpointed your location. Scanning nearby feeds… You got coordinates?"
"Can you see me?"
"Yep. You're crouched behind a planter, right?"
"Four o'clock. Two hundred meters. Third floor."
"Roger that."
Third floor, 200 meters, four o'clock.
T-Bug tapped into the city's cam net, hijacking local surveillance.
"Found 'em. One's on the ground floor, exosuit, armed with an Ajax rifle. Second guy's hiding at the stairwell on floor two—no exosuit, melee loadout. Lemme check…"
She paused, then continued:
"He's got twin axes. Open-ended hafts—modified Militech models. Those things shoot micro-EMP grenades. Real nasty. Meant to fry cyberware. Looks like they're waiting for someone to charge up the stairs—EMP 'em, then finish with the blades."
"Only three total?"
"That's all I see. None of them bothered masking the building's hidden cams. Bunch of spoiled rookies. No urban op training, huh?"
"No clue. But if it's just three, that's manageable. Can you breach them through the hidden feeds?"
"They're clueless, but the gear's good. Both exosuits run military-grade ICE. I'll need time to punch through. Axe guy's mostly meat—no interface."
"How long?"
"Two minutes for the ICE."
"I'll go manual."
In all of Night City's merc net, only T-Bug would even consider cracking Militech ICE in two minutes. But for Karl, that was still too long.
"Karl, you've been marked."
"I know."
Right on cue, the next shot rang out.
Karl bit through the neural sting and accelerated, slipping into time-dilation again.
Almost there.
Without Oliver backing him, taking out a powered sniper several hundred meters away with just Midnight was ambitious. But hey—two days from now, he'd be inside Arasaka Tower. And per his deal with Morgan Blackhand, he fully intended to "acquire" a few weapons on his way out.
Fifty meters.
Within pistol kill-zone. Not that Midnight had a problem with range—but fifty meant real precision.
According to pre-Collapse FBI stats, 90% of pistol firefights happened within 15 meters. But in 2075, with modded kinetic weapons? Fifty was baby food.
Point. Fire. Kill.
Karl squeezed the trigger—twice.
He targeted the Ajax rifle just now poking out from a first-floor window.
The enemy tried to surprise him—pop out, open fire.
Too slow.
Midnight spat two rounds. The first punctured the barrel, causing the weapon to backfire. The second followed instantly.
Pong—
A dull metallic crack. The guy pulled back from the window just in time.
Tough bastard.
Still on his feet, despite a direct hit. That's Militech for you. Their powered suits weren't cheap—and they didn't break easy.
Not that Karl expected otherwise. If powered frames could be dropped by a few bullets, they wouldn't be corporate-approved alternatives to full ACPAs. These things were built to suppress riots. Built to intimidate.
As the ground-level attacker pulled back, Karl noticed the sniper had vacated the third floor.
Abandoned long-range tactics.
That close? Time to swap weapons.
Which meant Karl had their attention now.
He ignored Blanka's text saying she'd moved and was safe. Instead, T-Bug cut in again:
"Want me to call Jackie and the boys?"
"Nah. By the time they get here, it'll be over."
"NCPD?"
"Already pinged. But this exosuit mess is too corp-heavy for Mr. Johnson and his crew. Hit up Rogue instead."
"What should I say?"
"Tell her to ready some cash. Might be two damaged exosuits up for salvage. We'll go easy on the price."
"We? I didn't lift a finger. You splitting loot with me just for spotting targets?"
"You saved my ass. Without you, I might've gotten flanked by the stairwell crew. In our crew, more work means more cut. You get a good slice. Jackie and the rest—they've been busting ass fixing the car in the Badlands. Give them booze money. We're booking El Coyote Cojo tomorrow, right? Can't show up dry."
"Fine by me." T-Bug chuckled. "Though… with their drinking habits…"
"They hear that, they'll riot."
Karl reached the building.
"I'm cutting comms. Eyes on me now, T-Bug."
"Count on it."
With that, Karl pulled a grenade from his belt and lobbed it through the same window where the Ajax rifle had shown.
As noise burst inside, he kicked the door in.
Waiting for him was the attacker—dodging the rolling grenade.
It didn't explode.
Because it was never supposed to.
"Same damn training, huh."
Karl surged forward, Midnight's monowire flashing.
.
.
.
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