Kremlin’s Freighter– Docks – Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 7:20am
Spiff ejected the clip on the gun and tossed it to the man. Kolchak instinctively snatched the weapon by the barrel grip and then brought it up into his meat hand and took up the stock holding it across his chest without removing his eyes from Spiffs. His was a cold stare…inhuman. After a moment, the mafia sniper glanced at the weapon before returning his gaze back to the fixer, just as frosty as before.

"So, Mister Kolchak, what is it you hate most on this little planet?"

“Hate is luxury. No luxury here.”

"Good to know. I like to know the people who are working for me." Spiff stood up, gathered together his things and turned to the man who was left to guard them. "Well, I've overstayed my welcome. Thank you for your time and it was a pleasure doing business. Your shooter will know where to find you when the job is done if he's as good as you say he is. I will come with him then to keep my end of the bargain."

The solo shrugged and continued to stare, mimicking the shooter’s disposition. Kolchak stepped aside as the fixer made his way to the door, and waited until the well-dressed man was out in the rain once more before following.

Spiff left the docks and went straight for his cab. The darn thing was still there. Reliable as ever, and running up a lovely fee. Still, Spiff knew what dangers that little cab meant. If Biotechnica could track him by his phone, they could certainly track him by his PCTD (Pocket Credit Transfer Device), so he was running cash at the moment, and that fare—that 300Eb fare—just ate up the last of it.

Spiff used the first few minutes in the cab to relocate some valuable information from his phone and memory to his DataWatch. Once that was finished, he opened up to the sniper.

"The mark is Biotechnica. You should only have to take out the guards outside to get us in. Keep the outside clear and your job will be complete. There should be plenty of decent locations to position yourself. And with that thing and these" Spiff nodded at the rifle and held up one of the shells, "you shouldn't have much trouble." Spiff took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. It was very late. "Well, that's the intent at least. Who knows what kind of stupid things Croaker has done in the last twenty-four hours. Your mission may change as a result. Hopefully he's been resting. His crew's gonna have to be in top form for this job."

Kolchak continued to stare and cradle the dangerous and illegal weapon in his hands as the cab sped off into the night. If the thought of going up against Biotechnica phased him, well…the man didn’t show it.

Spiff directed the cab to drop him off a block away from the hotel where he'd left Preacher. When the cab stopped curbside, he collected his things and, with Kolchak alongside like some silent zombie, he walked the rest of the way back to the hotel. Once he’d arrived, and made his way inside the lobby it was easy to see that the gun-toting mafiaso at his side caused the clerk behind the desk to go out of her way not to take notice.

The hall to their room was empty except for the cleaning crew some ways down the hall just unloading a fresh batch of towels. Using his keycard, Spiff opened the door to what appeared to be an empty room. The keyboard he’d arranged for Preacher was sitting on the edge of the bed, and the man’s damaged cowboy hat was still sitting on the desk. Kolchak remained patiently just outside as Spiff’s instinct came into play and he produced his Mustang Arms Mark II, slowly and quietly from his shoulder holster. The familiar weight of the weapon was something of a comfort…not entirely, but still somewhat. He was just about to step forward when Preacher appeared—At least a portion of him.

The solo-netrunner appeared by first placing the barrel of his Ameritech Magnum around the corner of the room where the entry hall expanded into the bedroom so that it was pointing almost directly at Spiff’s forehead. Then, when he saw who it was, he held the weapon, grip first, towards the fixer and stepped all the way around the corner, only to point the weapon very quickly again at Kolchak.

Sunset Cottages – Heywood – Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 8:38am

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Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:12am
There was a simple answer from the bodyguard. He pointed to the door with his weapon and approached with swift determination. The door was opened with a keycard swiped from a dead guard revealing a long, surgically clean hall with a mirrored ceiling and upper walls. The hallway was lined with metal doors with inset windows and nice, vinyl lettering. At the end of the hall, another, wider, door stood.

Progress down the hall was agonizingly slow, each room checked in brief through the window to discover offices; some with cubicles, some with desks, but none bearing the impression of a sanctuary. At the door, Guardian again took the lead, cracking the door a bit before swinging it open and stepping into a lobby; which he covered with a wide sweep.

There were two sets of elevators, one on either side of the room, and another door straight ahead. There were fake ferns in the corners, and a bench on either side of the doors, both those they came through and the one on the other side of the room. The elevator to the left had a biometric scanner and a keycard. The doors opposite their entry had a keycard lock, and the other elevator didn’t appear to have any security.

“Biometric,” Javier said with something of a smirk and a shrug. “Any ideas?”

Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:13am

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Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10am
“I will go with whatever matters not to me,” Lightning whispered.

Firewind glanced at the techie and raised his eyebrows, causing the tattoos across his forehead to wrinkle. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed. Combat was something he lived through while following the directions of the more tactically-minded. In that room, at that time, there was one person with a tactical mind: MDK. In that moment of realization, the medtech realized that he was pretty much going to follow suite.

“Hey,” Keahi intoned, standing to the side of the door and now focusing his attention on the assassin despite the draw of the gunfire outside. “Your call, Brah.”

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:11am

Sunset Cottages – Heywood – Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 8:38am
The reunion between Preacher and Spiff consisted of a brief nod on each man’s behalf and Preacher’s questions being answered about Kolchak. Afterward, Preacher filled Spiff in on what he’d been able to determine as far as the news on the Street that was being relayed online. It wasn’t much, but the news coverage indicated that there were some firefights a little close to home, a building ransacked by a gang fight that the police were sorting out, and at least one cop was dead due directly to that incident—that was a little disconcerting, but the feeling passed quickly.

Spiff was tired, having been up all night, so while he rested Preacher and Kolchak sat in silence, waiting for their instructions. It was about noon when Spiff finally awoke, and even then he was groggy until he’d showered and refreshed. Preacher had coffee brewed by the time he’d dragged himself out of the confined shower and dressed. It was bitter, but the caffeine was helpful.

They checked out, the three of them, and made their way into the rain once more. This time they hoofed it to an ATM where Spiff could withdraw some more cash, and since they were leaving that area the fixer didn’t mind if Biotechnica’s bloodhounds were watching his account. A few blocks later the three slipped into an electronics store (the sniper rifle wrapped in a blanket taken from the Sunset Cottages and tucked beneath Kolchak’s trench coat). There, Spiff bought a disposable phone with two hours of talk time.

Hitting the rainy streets once more, Spiff dialed Peacekeeper’s phone. It rang out and went to voice mail. So, he hung up and dialed Croaker’s. After this one followed suite, the fixer felt that something was indeed wrong. So, he dialed the only other number he knew might have some leads into what went down: Springed-Heel Jack.

Jack was a little gruff, having been woken up, but he informed Spiff that the Biotechnica facility had already been hit, and that those who’d survived were now spreading themselves out and awaiting the megacorp’s move. At least that was the short end of the story. The long of it went something like this:

“Croaker’s dead, lad,” Jack yawned. “So’s Peacekeeper, an’ that bulldog frien’ o’ theirs, Bull’s Eye. At leas’ Peacekeeper an’ Bull’s Eye are confirmed, an’ those tha’ got ou’ figured the same o’ Croaker seein’ ‘ow he’s no where t’ be found, an’ he was shot up pretty bad last they saw ‘im.

“Tha’ media tha’ Croaker brough’ int’ the mess—DigitalScribe—struck up some deal with another corporation I’m still tryin’ t’ figure ou’ the who an’ what o’ tha’ one, but it resulted in a double AV strike on the facility tha’ wiped clean the Biotechnica personnel. So, DigitalScribe, ‘is man Guardian, the corp-killer MDK, ‘is frien’ Lightnin’, an’ tha’ medtech Firewin’ all caught a ride on the AV’s and came back t’ the city where MDK called me t’ report.

“I told ‘em all t’ lay low fer a while, an’ I sugges’ you do the same. After a few days, I’ll let you know if there’s anythin’ t’ be worried ‘bout from Biotechnica an’ you can go on with yer life.”

So, that left Spiff with a Russian mobster sniper, a shot up ex-netrunner fulltime solo, and a little bit of cash…no profit, no return. The fixer sent Kolchak back to Kremlin with the sniper system as payment for wasting his time. Then, he and Preacher parted company and Spiff used his remaining minutes to dial up his lieutenant, arrange a safe house for himself and vanish into the drudges of the city.

Downtown – Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 1:05pm

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The Family Restaurant – Downtown Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 11:43am
Guardian sat across the table from DigitalScribe as the two of them finished their cheap meal consisting of soy eggs, toast, processed ham, and hashbrowns. Scribe was favoring his left side where he’d taken a bullet as they’d descended into the facility with Javier. They’d encountered more than their fair share of Biotechnica soldiers holed up inside, and Guardian’s armored clothing had taken a beating (the body beneath it would show the bruises for weeks), but they’d survived. When they’d found the sanctuary, Javier had been very quick with his datachips and procuring the information he’d been looking for. When they’d left, Guardian couldn’t help but notice that the computers were being wiped…more than likely by something the corporate had left behind after retrieving his data.

They’d been surprised when returning to the AV to find that the fighting had stopped. They’d been even more surprised to see MDK, Lightning, and Firewind being held at gunpoint by the black-garbed corporate soldiers Javier had brought alone. This had led to some discussion and Scribe had explained to Javier who these men were. The smiling, blonde corporate had been quick to release the three from custody, and had even gone so far as to thank them for their help with the facility guards. Their contribution had been a great distraction, splitting the facility’s focus.

Scribe was saddened to learn of Peacekeeper’s and Bull’s Eye’s deaths. And not seeing Croaker there, he’d had to assume that the big guy had been a part of those losses. That was hard for the media to accept at first, but like a true edgerunner, he put his emotions aside and as they boarded the AV with Javier he fell silent, watching the facility get smaller beneath them .

“Well, Guardian,” Scribe said as he wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin and leaned back in his chair. “You did it again—you kept me alive.”

Retrieving his wallet from his jacket pocket, the media rifled through some colorful bills. “Here you go. Payment in full for services rendered.”

Guardian knew that Scribe had struck up some kind of deal on the details of the story and had received a fairly decent payoff for the rights, so the money he was being paid was hardly a drop in the bucket for the dashing young man.

And that was that. Guardian accepted his payment, said his farewells to the media with promises from Scribe of looking him up again as soon as he had more work lined up, and then the bodyguard left the restaurant. He was intent on following Springed-Heel Jack’s advice and laying low for a while, but hadn’t figured out exactly how yet. His apartment would surely be a dangerous place for him to return to at the moment, so he’d have to likely bunk at some hotel for a while.

Stepping into a Red Cab, the bodyguard looked at the handful of cash he’d just received, withdrawing it from his pocket to place it in his wallet, and that’s when it struck him as odd…Scribe had overpaid him by a good 2,000Eb! Raising his eyebrows, Guardian fanned the cash just below the line of the seat and at the back was a piece of napkin:

Take a vacation, my friend. –DigitalScribe
“Where to, Choomba?” The cabbie asked.

“The airport,” Guardian answered. If Scribe wanted him to take a vacation, who was he to argue?

The Family Restaurant –Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:00pm

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Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:11am
The decision to step outside of the facility into the potential rain of death being spat by the AVs was a very hard one to make. MDK couldn’t bring himself to do so for some time. It wasn’t until the gunfire stopped and the AV’s minigun wound down that the assassin slipped off his battlemask, stowed it, and then walked out the door with his hands in the air; as non-threatening as possible.

Firewind and Lightning followed suite, mimicking the other man as closely as they could, their hearts in their throats. The black-garbed corporate soldiers manning the AVs swarmed them, pressing their faces into the mud and putting knees in their backs until they’d stripped them of all of their weapons and remaining gear. After that they held them at gunpoint in front of the southernmost AV until a blonde corporate emerged from within followed by Guardian and a bleeding DigitalScribe.

MDK, Firewind,and Lightning remained quiet, waiting to see what the media was playing at before making their move. When he addressed the suit in a friendly manner, MDK’s heart sank: he knew they were dead at that point, betrayed by the pretty boy and his bodyguard to the corporations. His mind began to work at ways to retrieve his weapons, kill the guards, and hijack the AV-4, but Scribe’s next words stalled him.

“Javier,” the media winced as he cradled his left arm. “Those gatos are with me. They were kind of the advance group, if you will.”

“I thought there were six friends of yours who’d made their way here,” the corporate said with a soft voice as he eyed the soaking wet trio through crystal blue eyes.

“There were,” Scribe sniffed and raised his eyebrows in question.

“Peacekeeper and Bull’s Eye are dead,” Firewind answered quickly. “They were shot down by some of Biotechnica’s guards in the belly of that building there. We were going after Croaker who we were told was being held there by the netrunner Jack had working with MDK.”

“Is that so?” Javier’s soft smile never left his lips, but the question was filled with apology. “I’m afraid that netrunner wasn’t on your side friends. Our netrunner discovered their netrunner giving you directions and burned him. I’m sure you noticed the sudden silence…”

Firewind opened his mouth in surprise, but closed it again as he shook his head in disbelief. Croaker was probably dead long before they escaped their cell. The whole thing had been a set up to draw them to their deaths, but why? Why not kill them in their cells?

“I can only assume that they weren’t planning on your friends MDK and Peacekeeper crashing their party and had to improvise.” Javier motioned to the AV indicating they should step out of the rain. Once they were all seated and belted in, he continued. “Our netrunner discovered the cell numbers on their system for all of you. They likely used that to attach themselves to Peacekeeper and MDK in order to draw them into action after intercepting the communication between MDK and the actual netrunner who was supposed to be helping you.

“Oh, yes, there was a netrunner working with you at first, but his connection was high jacked and replaced by the Biotechnica netrunner’s connection. I apologize that our netrunner didn’t resolve the situation before it was too late for your friends.”

The group remained silent for some time after that, allowing the news to sink in. After a time, as the skyline of Night City was flying beneath them MDK placed his call to Springed-Heel Jack letting him know what happened and receiving instruction to lay low. When Javier dropped them off, MDK relayed the fixer’s instructions and they parted company.

There wasn’t any remorse on the assassin’s part. He’d been able to kill a few corporate, had survived infiltrating a corporate facility, and he was still going to be paid by Springed-Heel Jack. He’d come out on top.

Lightning was just grateful to be alive, and come out with payment being transferred to his account within the next twenty-four hours for his services. He hadn’t really gotten to know any of those he’d spent the evening with, so parting company was an easy thing.

Firewind was tired. He was so tired he felt that his feet were filled with lead. His heart was heavy with the loss of Croaker, Peacekeeper, and Bull’s Eye. He hadn’t known them for long, but they’d portrayed something that was rare in today’s society: honor. For that, he’d mourn them. Of course, he wasn’t getting paid for his efforts, but he’d been party to sticking one to a megacorp, and he’d helped keep a dangerous drug off the street…at least if what Javier had said he was planning on doing with it was true. There’s something to be said about hurting one megacorp just to hand it over to another—and which one Javier worked for he wasn’t sure. Shaking his head, the medtech ran his hands across his tattooed face and made his way into the night. He’d follow Springed-Heel Jack’s advice.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 2:18am