Chapter 103: Picking Up the Ride
Captain Muamar had set the meeting point in Santo Domingo, in the Arroyo district, but specifically in an abandoned industrial park near the edge of the Coronado Ranch.
When Rhys pulled up on the bike, it wasn't even noon yet. The foot traffic thinned out dramatically as he approached the edge of Arroyo.
Since it bordered the ranch, where the locals lived a semi-autonomous, self-sufficient lifestyle and didn't mix much with outsiders, the emptiness was normal.
At night, though, this place would be crawling with Nomads from the Badlands, homeless drifters, and Scavs looking to do "business."
Arriving at the coordinates, Rhys saw no one. He stopped the bike, planting a foot on the ground, and pulled up his contact list, dialing the Captain.
"Rhys? You there?" Muamar answered immediately, his voice hushed. Judging by the background noise and the cramped visuals, he was hiding inside a shipping container.
"Yeah, I'm here. But where are you? I don't see anything," Rhys said, scanning the area.
"Heh, just being careful," Muamar chuckled. "Go another few hundred meters in, turn left at the building with the missing corner, then go another forty meters. I'm waiting there."
"Buying a car shouldn't feel this much like a heist..." Rhys muttered.
Seriously, what was the difference? Muamar's whole operation made Rhys feel like he was doing something illegal.
I'm buying a car, not stealing one, dammit.
"Ahem. You are buying a car, but... well, let's be real. We're gonna do a lot of business together, so I'll shoot straight," Muamar said, clearing his throat. "This ride? On the open market, you're looking at twenty-five thousand eddies, minimum. You got it for sixteen K. So... you know."
Rhys laughed, exasperated. "Right. I get it. I'm here to buy a car, and you're here to fence stolen goods. Loud and clear."
He revved the bike, following Muamar's directions deeper into the complex.
The call was still active. Muamar laughed again. "Hey, don't worry. When I handle things, they stay handled. Rhys, I'm not blowing smoke—out of all the car dealers in Night City, I'm the safest."
"Other guys might sell cheaper, but they don't scrub the VINs or the digital trails. One scan by the NCPD, and you're toast. Especially if you get pulled over. My cars? Prepped, scrubbed, clean. You can drive it downtown without a worry."
Muamar raised his voice slightly, sounding proud. "I don't do one-off scams. I care about the customer experience. I want repeat business."
"Save the sales pitch for when I see the car," Rhys retorted.
Night City had fixers of all stripes, but Captain Muamar was unique. He wasn't just a middleman connecting mercs to corp gigs. He was a black-market car dealer.
Other fixers schmoozed with corpos and passed down wetwork contracts.
Muamar?
He generated his own gigs. When inventory was low, he'd hire mercs to steal cars for him—providing intel, resources, and payment.
Once he had the cars, he'd list them on his own black-market site.
It broke the traditional fixer mold, but...
Muamar was popular. His reputation was solid gold.
He didn't screw over his mercs. His gigs were usually straightforward—high-risk, sure, but doable even for rookies with minimal chrome if they had the guts.
And he paid well.
But the main reason his rep was so good? The guy was loyal. If you were in a jam and asked him for help, he'd usually come through. He might bitch and moan about it, but he'd help.
As a player, Rhys had always liked Muamar. While other fixers treated V like a disposable tool, Muamar was the only one who felt like a choom.
My good son!
"I'm here." Rhys pulled up to the spot, cutting off Muamar's ongoing self-promotion.
He heard the sound of chains rattling. "Over here! Look!" Muamar called out.
Rhys turned towards a blue-and-red shipping container hidden behind a derelict building.
The doors swung open. Inside the cramped space, Muamar was squeezed next to a sleek vehicle, waving frantically at Rhys.
"Here! Hurry up!" Muamar grinned, his mullet bouncing.
Rhys walked over, and his eyes lit up.
The car was beautiful. Unlike the rugged, weaponized vehicles common in Santo Domingo or Watson, this one looked like it belonged in Charter Hill.
Streamlined, aerodynamic. It was hard to see the full profile inside the container, but he could make out a striking yellow-and-blue paint job.
The front end featured a high-tech digital grille. It looked like a sports car, but... not as cramped. It reminded him a bit of the purple car Maine used to drive, but... nicer. More spacious.
Seeing Rhys's expression, Muamar chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder. "Sixteen thousand. Pay up."
Rhys nodded and transferred the eddies.
Muamar's eyes lost their glow as the transaction completed. His grin widened. "Paperwork's all sorted. You're good to go. If you hit a checkpoint, don't panic. Stay cool. I guarantee it's clean. Any problems, you come to me."
Rhys nodded, running a hand over the smooth metal. He turned back to Muamar. "So... how do I get it out? Can't exactly drive it out of here, can I?"
"Seriously? You think you can't drive it out?" Rhys asked, looking at the tight squeeze.
The container was tiny. Muamar barely had room to stand. The car doors couldn't even open.
Muamar rolled his eyes. "This is a Rayfield model from three years ago. You think it doesn't have summon mode?"
He snatched the key shard from Rhys's hand and pressed a button.
Then, he just stood there, looking at Rhys expectantly.
With a quiet hum of the engine, the car slowly rolled out of the container on its own. It turned, positioning the driver's side perfectly next to Muamar.
"See? Auto-drive. If you hate keys or are worried about losing them, you can link it to your neural processor."
"But you'll need a netrunner for that. If you want me to do it, you'll have to wait until this afternoon," Muamar said, crossing his arms.
Rhys shook his head, taking the key back and opening the door. "It's fine. This works."
He got in, shut the door, and started the engine.
DING—
The interior lights flared to life. A holographic interface appeared in front of him.
[Lighting] [Drive Mode: Manual / Auto] [Media] [Optical Camo]...
Rhys selected Manual. The interface shifted. He could choose between Neural Link or Standard.
He chose Standard. He pressed the gas, turned the wheel, and floored it.
Muamar watched him go, smiling. "Another one sold. Tsk tsk. I wonder how many other guys in his crew need rides... Hmm?"
Muamar froze, his gaze landing on the pink motorcycle Rhys had left behind. His eyes lit up.
"That bike..."
A bold idea formed in his mind. To Muamar, an abandoned vehicle was like free eddies on the ground. Could I...?
No. He resisted the urge.
That's Rhys's bike. He wanted to stay friends with Rhys.
For the sake of his perfect retirement plan...
Muamar sighed and dialed Rhys's number.
"I'm finally... a car owner!" Rhys thought as he sped away.