We didn't really need to drive past the ambush site anymore, but it was really the only way to go down this street unless we wanted to make a U-turn, which I didn't. So we drove past it quickly and gawked at the vehicle on fire. I say finally, "Glory to Socialist Science," which got a couple of chuckles as we managed to drive off into the shoulder of the road to get around the destroyed "roadblock." Ruslan said, "The cash is fine, although I think maybe a few thousand might be a bit damaged." Well, that was a good sign, at least. I had hoped so. They had tied the duffle bag underneath the seats in the back, so that was pretty much out of the way.
I started to relax a bit as we got on the freeway, and Kiwi and I grinned like fools at each other.
From the back, Ruslan said, "Alright, Kiwi, take the next exit in four kloms."
Kiwi blinked and said, "But we're supposed to meet Wakako in Japantown." Suddenly I got an alert about all my net connections failing, while at the same time Jean pointed a gun at the back of Kiwi's head. Ruslan mirrored the gesture at me, in his other hand a small but powerful signal jammer, "About that... You know, it is not personal, da? But, this is a score of a lifetime. Sorry, Kiwi... we would have brought you in, but we didn't think you would have gone for it, and then we'd have had to have killed you."
Kiwi's face, which had been smiling so happily before was still frozen in the same expression, but with shock and despair registering in her eyes, which probably mirrored my own. I blinked back tears, wondering why people who I thought were my friends always seemed to betray me.
"Don't worry; we'll leave you tied up in an abandoned building. This jammer only has a battery for about six hours, so you should be able to call someone to get free after then," Ruslan said affably.
Jean shrugged, "Yeah, sorry mon but this is retirement money, ya?"
Absently I wondered if this was why they had run up such charges on the hotel last night. They were high but not high enough that I would have immediately done something about it, but it seemed like they never intended to be around to reimburse Wakako and me for the expenses. Had they been planning this the whole time? "Wakako will find you guys. This is a braindead move," I finally said, my voice sounding tired and monotone.
"Yeaah... I don't think so. You see, I think you're very special, Miss White. And I ain't exactly new to the scene, either. I got some contacts that can definitely help us vanish, new identities, new genomes, the whole burrito," he said excitedly, and I absently wanted to correct his incorrect idiom use as I would have before, but my heart wasn't in it, "So, you're coming with us on a little road trip. Don't worry; I got a friend collecting your input and her little brat too. These people realise that family is important to be productive."
Wait, my input? All three of them had been over to my place, and I had introduced them to Gloria several times. Did they think we were dating? I didn't have the mental strength to even complain internally that they were implying Gloria wore the pants in the relationship, either. I had to think of something, a way to FUCKING KILL THESE TWO TREACHEROUS ASSHOLES so I could save Gloria and David . Being kidnapped at a young age was a very traumatic experience.
I noticed Kiwi glancing at me sideways, and I did the same and noticed her staring intently at my worn seatbelt, and I widened my eyes. Getting either Ruslan or Jean to wear a seatbelt was almost impossible. Ruslan even said, once, "In Soviet Russia, you fly out of the car like man in accident!"
I decided to keep talking to him to keep him distracted, so I lied, "You know I didn't make that drug, right? I stole it from Trauma Team."
"I don't think so. I did a lot of research after we used anaesthetics you provided, da? There is nothing like that in the world, nothink ; it is like magic," he said happily, "And I even managed to klep some in the bag job gig, da? Very interested."
My judgement for trusting people was, as usual, total and utter shit. I had made several different delivery mechanisms for the drug back then, darts, a spray that I still had in my bag right now, and we finally settled on drugging his disgusting Nicola drink. I thought I had misplaced a few of the darts, but I didn't think anything of it.
"Don't worry, don't worry! You probably be richer than Croesus in a few years, and they'll make sure you'll be well protected," he said, confirming that whoever he was intending to sell me to was a Corp of some kind. He chuckled and said, "You don't need-"
He was interrupted by Kiwi roughly yanking the wheel over hard, throwing us into oncoming traffic. I could see the vehicle ahead of us and knew there was no way we could avoid a collision at this point. It was a truck, about as big as our van. I just hoped Ruslan was practising good trigger discipline and didn't shoot me in the back in the collision.
Even in slow motion, the crash was unimaginably quick and violent, with Kiwi bouncing hard off the steering wheel and dashboard. Both Jean and Ruslan were airborne, and I expected to see them fly through the windshield with no further input from me, but I saw it immediately when Ruslan activated his Sandy again.
I didn't wait any longer because he was sudden death in both hands, but then again, so was I. The expression of pure, unadulterated rage on his face told me that he wasn't thinking about his plan. Or rather, that he knew he was about to be grievously injured and wanted to burn the whole world down with him. It was an ugly and heartrending expression that I knew would stick with me for a long time in my dreams, assuming I lived through the next couple of seconds.
My left hand flashed, my monowire flying out in a difficult one-handed throw to wrap around his left arm before I yanked it tight, coiling tightly around and fouling the deployment mechanism for his projectile launch system. I didn't try for the more difficult shot to wrap around his neck because I was somewhat concerned that I would miss, and if so, I was absolutely sure he would kill me, and perhaps himself, by firing off his PLS inside the cabin of a moving vehicle.
I wanted to kick myself when I saw what was in his other hand because it was the exact same thing that was already in my hand, raising to point at him. An M-73 Omaha. I should have never let him shoot mine, as he had bought one as soon as they went on the market a few months later, and it was one of the few pistols that could punch through both my body armour and ballistic skin weave pretty much like it wasn't there.
We were levelling our weapons about at the same time, although he had the more complicated shot flying as he was sideways while tangled up with Jean, who was flying perpendicular to Ruslan's orientation. They were both about to collide with the windshield, but then again, we were all close enough to touch each other with our pistols if we only stretched our arms out a little farther, so missing was basically impossible.
I was firing from retention, keeping the pistol tucked up against my breast so as to keep him from using one of his spinning limbs to knock the barrel off-true, but it looked like we were going to fire almost simultaneously.
As I started squeezing the trigger, Ruslan's face changed from the rictus of pure rage to the cheeky, friendly, mischievous grin I had gotten so fond of.
(AN: I briefly considered ending the chapter here, but that would only be mean.)
I did not die, although seeing my former friend's head blow apart did not fill me with the satisfaction that I thought it would have when I fantasised about murdering him in the seconds after his betrayal; in fact, it hurt a lot. Also, Rus shot me at the same time as I hit him in the chest. That also hurt, too, but not as much, if I had to admit it.
The hypervelocity, copper-coated steel projectile punched right where my liver should have been and out the other side of my back. The one downside to the Omaha was overpenetration — there was no expansion whatsoever, which actually lessened my injuries somewhat.
I was injured enough that my Trauma Team membership tried to activate, but it was actually possible to suppress it if the internal biomonitor gauged your injuries were under a certain limit, especially if you had nanosurgeons or other first-aid style augmentations. However, if I lost consciousness for even a moment it would trigger the alert, so I was trying my best to stay conscious as I reviewed my injuries. Aside from the penetrating trauma and internal bleeding, I had a moderate to a serious concussion, and that was basically it.
My custom liver's arterial connection had been damaged, so it had already shut down its duties as my second heart, but that could be repaired. I glanced sideways to check Kiwi's status and winced.
She wasn't dead yet, but she was hurt, bad. I shook my head to clear it, as I had some work to do. I shook off Ruslan's forearm, which had been ripped off despite the fact that it had significant metal content when his body continued its travel out of the cab of the vehicle. When it was clear, I retracted my wire and unbuckled my seat. The vehicle was on its side, so I thumped to the floor and carefully freed Kiwi from the driver's seat.
She had a high cervical fracture and was displaying signs of paradoxical breathing. My medical sense estimated that there was over a ninety-six per cent chance that she was completely paralysed below the neck down, which was unfortunate but fixable. What wasn't fixable, though, at least in a van, was that she was about to stop breathing. I searched the back of the van and grabbed the medical kit I had brought with me, and dug through it before I found a small tracheostomy kit.
Working at my speed, it was no time at all before I was done with the procedure and carefully managing and manually ventilating her airway with one hand. I hadn't brought a ventilator machine with me, which was another oversight.
What to do now? I would have to perform a carjacking before the ambulance showed up. I glanced around and gathered the things I was definitely taking with me, and they only comprised a pistol, Kiwi and the bag of cash.
Right before I was about to try to extricate myself from the vehicle, I heard a voice. A man's voice, "'Ello the wreck, anyone alive in there? Are you okay?"
Frowning, I stood up and stuck my head out of what was the passenger's side window and was now the ceiling. I saw the man, and I was ready to pull my pistol but he seemed unarmed and, unusually, concerned. He grinned and said, "You okay? Do you need any help?"
The man was attractive, in his mid-twenties. My eyes zoomed in on several parts of his body. He looked like Alt-Danny's young lieutenants did, earnest and tastefully but highly augmented. He looked like a soldier, which was troubling, especially since he was helping a random stranger in Night City. That didn't usually happen. Still, I nodded and tried to play up the damsel in distress angle, "Yes, please, my friend is hurt quite badly. Can you come over here and help me lift her out of the van? I'm afraid it might catch fire soon."
He nodded, "Of course." I quickly ducked down and rummaged into the medical bag again, palming an item. As I rose up, I said, "You might need to come in here to help me."
He nodded and leaned close, and that was when I struck at my maximum speed, shoving an inhaler right by his nose and spraying him two times in the face. He had a very brief couple of seconds of confusion as the anaesthetic took effect before he slumped against the side of the van.
Sighing, I didn't really feel good about that but need's must when the devil drives. Glancing around, I frowned as I didn't see Jean. I thought he would be unconscious by Ruslan's body, but he was gone. Suddenly, I looked around everywhere just in case I was about to be ambushed, but I didn't see anyone. I couldn't think about it right now.
I ducked back in, grabbed a few other things in my med bag, and tossed them into the duffle bag full of cash, putting it over my back and gently reaching down to pick Kiwi up princess style. Instead of trying to climb out with my hands full, I judged the distance and carefully used one hand to hold Kiwi's neck stable so as not to aggravate her spinal fracture and just jumped straight up through the window. I landed on the passenger door and carefully slid down, doing my best not to jar Kiwi any more than I needed to. Every few seconds, I would pause to mechanically ventilate her.
Well, that was a coincidence. The young man/soldier's vehicle was a van exactly like the one we were driving in. I hurried over to it. There was really no good way to transport Kiwi, and I spent a couple of minutes fashioning a quick neck brace out of things I had on hand, which were duct tape and a few stacks of cash.
Glancing at the unconscious man, I hummed and quickly ran over and grabbed him as well, placing him into the passenger seat. I opened his mouth and put another inhaler inside, giving him one puff. It was my drug that caused anterograde amnesia. I would leave him with some money in compensation after I got home. He had made the correct moral decision, so I would see him rewarded for it, even if he didn't remember much of it.
I put his van into gear. Thankfully, it had an auto-drive system, and I selected my Megabuilding. Now, what else could go wrong today?
As I thought that, my phone rang now that I was outside the area effect of the small jammer that was no doubt next to Ruslan somewhere. However, it was someone I wasn't expecting. Johnny the Tyger Claw. While I wasn't expecting him, surprisingly, he was exactly who I wanted to talk to.
Johnny was still guarding the employee's entrance to Clouds. It was kind of boring, but it gave him a lot of time to practice both his slashes and his quickdraw, so there were at least some benefits.
As he was practising the latter, he heard the muffled but unmistakable sound of a gunshot. A loud one. He checked his Tyger's Eye app. The Claws had installed a number of simple but exceeding useful security systems on this floor for the building. One of them was a series of multiple sound-detecting instruments spread across the entire floor.
They could detect gunshots, and they were also networked together, which allowed them to triangulate exactly where on the floor the gunshot happened. What he saw on the app caused him to frown in concern and stand up. The gunshot came from inside Doc Taylor's clinic.
He triggered a security alert in Clouds, which was required if he was going to leave his post, and at the same time, he tried calling his boss but found that the call went straight to voicemail. If he recalled, Mr Jin was supposed to be meeting one of the big bosses today, so it wasn't surprising he had his implants set to do-not-disturb.
