Neo slipped the anti-jamming earpiece into place and spoke softly, "Kiwi, this is V. You read me?"
"Loud and clear," came Kiwi's voice—flat, cold, and emotionless as static.
She was the kind of netrunner who could crack a corpo data vault but still sound like she'd rather be anywhere else. That perpetual frost in her tone made her feel less like a person and more like an extension of the Net itself.
"Comms are good," Neo said. "So that means we're ready to move?"
Rebecca, sitting on the edge of the van's seat, slammed a shell into her Ironheart shotgun and grinned from ear to ear. "I've been so damn ready! My Ironheart's itching for some Scav skulls!"
Jackie laughed from the front seat, shaking his head, while Neo only smiled faintly.
Rebecca turned to him, fiery eyes gleaming. "V, you stick close to me when we breach, got it? Anyone dares to shoot at you—I'll turn them into chrome paste!"
Neo was honestly touched. Then he said calmly, "Rebecca, just follow the plan. Do your job, cover the angle. Let us handle the front."
Rebecca narrowed her eyes. "You doubting me, samurai boy?"
"I'm serious," she continued, voice dropping low. "If someone takes a shot at you, they're taking a shot at me. And I don't let that slide. Got it?"
Neo nodded. "Got it."
"Good." She leaned back with a smug little hum, hiding the faint smile that crept up. Then she glanced at David—poor kid was sitting beside her, checking his new chrome nervously. "Hey, rookie. You too. If things get hot, just yell. I'll blast 'em before they even aim."
David straightened like a soldier before his first mission. "Yes, ma'am! I'll learn from you, Miss Rebecca!"
Rebecca snorted, clearly pleased. "Ha! Good attitude. Maybe I'll even let you live through your first gig."
Jackie groaned from the front seat, muttering, "Why do I feel like I'm not even in the same car anymore?"
But his grin came back fast. He hit the comms and barked, "Alright, brothers and sisters, it's go time. Let's go give those Scav rats a real Night City welcome. We grab the client, we get paid. Simple."
Across the line, Maine's team confirmed they were in position. Two crews, two directions—closing in on the same hellhole.
Neo, Rebecca, Jackie, and David climbed out of the van and moved toward the old building. The elevator creaked like a dying machine as it rose.
"Jackie," Neo asked, "what kind of intel did Wakako give you on this?"
Jackie smirked. "You mean how much intel she gave me? Same as always—none. You know her line: 'You take eddies, you take bullets. No refunds.'"
Neo chuckled. "Sounds like her."
He didn't ask because he didn't know. He asked because the others deserved to.
In truth, Neo already knew how this mission would go. Every corridor, every bloodstain. But for now, he just looked at Rebecca beside him—close enough that her shoulder brushed his. He didn't move away.
He turned to Jackie. "We split here. Two mini-squads. You take David and flank left. Rebecca's with me. We push front and distract."
Jackie blinked. "Wait—what?"
"Hell yeah!" Rebecca shouted before he could argue. She didn't even care why—it just sounded good.
The elevator dinged.
Level 15.
Kiwi's voice came through again, crisp and cold. "Target identified: Sandra Dorsett. Abducted several days ago. Her biometrics dropped off a few hours back—possible fatal trauma. Proceed with caution."
Jackie cracked his knuckles. "We're not too late, Kiwi. We never are."
He looked over the team as the doors slid open. "Scavs are the kind of scum who rip people apart for spare parts. Killing comes easier than breathing to 'em. But if Wakako's paying premium eddies, that means this girl's special. Real special. They kept her alive for a reason."
That confidence, that calm—the mark of a real merc. Jackie carried it like armor.
"Floor 15," he said. "Room 1237. Move."
He marched out first, stride heavy and sure. David followed, heart hammering. Neo and Rebecca covered the rear.
"Still no signal on the target's biomonitor," Kiwi reported. "Might be too late."
"1237's door is data-encrypted," she added. "I'll need time to break it."
"Time's a luxury," Rebecca cut in, grinning wickedly. "I'll open it the Rebecca way."
Before anyone could stop her—
BOOM!
The Ironheart roared, the blast echoing through the whole damn building. The reinforced door folded inward like wet paper.
Inside, the Scavs turned in shock—too slow.
BOOM!
Second shot. Blood. Screams. Bits of chrome and flesh painted the wall.
Rebecca twirled the smoking shotgun, grinning ear to ear. "WOOHOO!" she yelled. "Party's started, babies!"
Jackie dragged a hand down his face. "That girl, I swear… subtlety's just not in her vocabulary."
He sighed. "Ah, screw it. Doesn't matter how you open the door as long as the job gets done."
"Alright, David!" he barked. "Keep your eyes open. If you can't take a shot, find cover and stay there. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
Gunfire erupted from deeper inside—the Scavs had recovered and were firing back. Bullets tore through the air, sparks flying.
Rebecca dove behind cover, popping out only to unleash another round that turned a Scav into red vapor.
"Die, you chrome-plated freaks!" she screamed with delight.
Jackie and David surged forward, adrenaline pumping.
Across the comm, Maine's voice crackled, confusion cutting through the static. "Wait—what? We were supposed to go stealth! What the hell are you guys doing?!"
Jackie laughed as he emptied his clip. "Stealth? Yeah, about that—we're improvising, choom! Go loud or go home!"
Maine's sigh could be heard even over the chaos. "…You gotta be kidding me."
But by then, the corridor was already filled with fire, smoke, and the echoing laughter of Rebecca's gun.
The quiet plan had died before it began.