A Night’s Work – Chapter 3

Gum had been true to their word and she left the Loophole that night with fifteen hundred in her account. Half of it went to pay her rent, and another three hundred was sent to her physician to at least put a dent in her running bill. Not that the good doc was riding her hard about paying them back but she didn’t like having debts if she could afford not to. That left Aysha with a decent amount of pocket change, and with two days to prepare for the job, she made sure to get some more ammo for her stun pistol, suspecting that the ‘milk run’ wouldn’t be as harmless as the intel suggested. Why else would the client be dishing that much money for it? She also splurged for a few extra rounds of specialized munitions for her revolver; Armour piercing, hollow point and conventional bullets. She loaded the gun with two rounds of each, allowing her to rotate the chamber manually to quickly select the ideal ammunition depending on who she needed to shoot. But deep down, Aysha hoped her stun gun alone would suffice if she had to shoot at all.

You can’t live on the edge without occasionally having to shoot someone dead, and she wasn’t going to hesitate to do so to save herself, but despite the extra hassle it meant, she tried to go the less-lethal route when possible. Gum seemed to appreciate her holding back from using deadly force when not necessary, as they often trusted her to handle delicate contracts they wouldn’t pass along to any of their other merc contacts.

She wasn’t fully healed by the night of the job but she was healed enough that things didn’t hurt. At least not too much. She took her bike to the address marked on the memory card. According to the intel, the job was a simple protection mission. Sensitive cargo was being moved from point A to B, or in this case, from a parking garage to an old abandoned seaside factory. The client didn’t want to use his typical security people to avoid drawing attention to the package, which was likely something a local gang was after. The client was clear that they could not guarantee nobody would attempt to intercept the cargo but they claimed to have done everything they could to avoid drawing eyes to the delivery. By the time she parked her bike in front of the parking garage, the sun had been down for an hour. She leaned against the bike and pulled a small nutrient bar from her pocket. It tasted like cardboard more than anything but she always had one before any job that would take more than one hour as it prevented her from feeling hungry if things got delayed. Being hungry made her less sharp.

As she chewed on it, the implant on the side of her head buzzed and she lifted her finger to tap it gently. In the corner of her field of view, she saw Gum’s icon, a stylized rendition of their own face lifting two fingers in a peace sign.

“Ten minutes to go for the job. Are you on your way?”

“On my way? I’m right here, Gum. Just waiting.”

“That’s why you are my favourite.” There was a brief pause for Gum to chuckle. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I wouldn’t dream.”

“There’s just one more member to your crew. They should be arriving shortly. Client’s cargo will be on the second floor, parking space B201.”

“B201. Got it.”

“Excellent. Good luck out there.”

Aysha didn’t respond immediately, chewing on the last bite of her bar before wiping her mouth with the back of her shooting glove.

“I hope I don’t need luck today, Gum. If I do, I’m fucked,” she said finally, with a brief pause before adding in a warmer tone, “but thanks anyway.”

“Well, don’t go thanking me yet.”

“Something’s up?”

“You’ll see. And you won’t be happy.”

Aysha frowned, even though they couldn’t see her.

“Gum... Spit it out.”

“Well... Just remember I had no choice in this. Gotta-go-bye.”

The last three words were said so fast they might as well have been one, and then Gum was no longer on the call. She was unsure which level of concern she should be in regarding their words. If the job was shady, Gum wouldn’t be coy to alert her about danger. So, whatever was going on was less serious than ‘life threatening’ but that was a big range to venture guesses on. Gum had said they had no choice. And it was something she’d find out. She heard the humming of an electric engine and tires scratching pavement as a vehicle came to a halt near her, and turning around, she spotted Synchro’s lowrider, and the other runner himself astride on it, bringing it to a halt.

“No fucking way,” Aysha let out, crunching the empty nutrient bar wrapper in her hand as she clenched it.

“Oh... No.” Synchro seemed to echo her feelings as he stood from his ride. “Tell me you’re not my crew for the protection gig.”

“No, I’m here looking for a John.” Her sarcasm came out acid.

“Might wanna dress in something more flattering then.”

“Might wanna choke on my dick,” she said aggressively.

Synchro just shook his head and took two steps away from his bike. And then two steps back towards it. Pacing like that for a moment, she could imagine the gears in his head were turning much like hers. How could either of them get out of it having already collected half the payment? The answer was, of course, obvious. They couldn’t. He seemed to arrive at that conclusion too if a few seconds later than her. She let go of an exasperated sigh as Synchro approached but stopped a couple of steps away from her.

“We do this, like pros. We don’t talk if we don’t have to. We get our cash and we exfil.”

“Best I can hope for.”

After agreeing to his terms, Aysha checked her bracer and pointed to the garage’s entrance. She tossed her leg over her own bike seat and relayed only the essentials to him as she clicked her bracer to unlock the bike and turn on the engine.

“Second floor, B201.”

“Aye.”

Monosyllabic responses were annoying in most cases but Synchro keeping his words to the strictly necessary was actually a relief to her. They both rode into the building, climbing the parking ramps and finding the garage to be entirely empty on the first floor, and the only vehicle parked on the second floor was a small van. Painted white with the logo of a laundry company, there were two men in suits standing right beside it. She assumed a driver and security. They waved as they spotted the two runners approaching, and they brought their bikes to a halt by the car’s side.

“Synchro and Crash?” one of the men asked them.

Aysha nodded. It always felt strange when outsiders used her handle. Most other mercs referred to her by name. At least the name she was going by now. Her handle only came up during jobs and when dealing with third parties. Like those guys.

“Van’s backdoor is geotag-locked. Will only open in the right coordinates. I’ll be driving. My friend here will be providing assistance,” the man explained. “It’s a twenty-minute drive and we expect no problems. Should be the easiest money you ever made.”

As he was speaking, Synchro had lifted his bracer and pressed a few buttons, a spherical drone popped from the back of his bike, slid out two rotors and took flight to begin circling the van while emitting occasional beams of red light.

“What are you doing?” 'Crash’s' annoyance was clear in her voice.

“Scanning it, obviously. For explosives, tracking devices and other surprises. It’s not that I don’t trust your employer's security...” Synchro explained with his eyes focused on the bracer. “But in this line of work, can’t be too safe.”

The drone was small enough to be able to fit between the van and the asphalt, as the vehicle was riding high on its suspensions. After a minute, Synchro seemed satisfied.

“I think we are clear.”

Aysha rolled her eyes, as if not happy with the excessive care. But part of her was actually impressed and glad that Synchro thought to do so. Of course, now that it had turned out nothing, she had no reason to actually let him know that.

“We are ready, then,” Aysha declared.

“Great. We will just drive casually. If you see anything suspicious, let us know,” the would-be van driver said, “Otherwise, you’ll get the cred-chip once we reach the factory.”

“Don’t suppose you gonna tell us what’s the cargo or who wants it?” Synchro asked.

“No, sir.”

And with that out of the way, the two men got into their vehicle and they drove off the parking garage as a convoy. To maintain a lower profile, Crash and Synchro rode a little further behind the van but their bracers had been updated with the route they were going to take. Synchro had his drone higher in the air, flying directly above the van and keeping an eye on the road ahead while sending the holovid feed to a HUD in front of his bike. Aysha took note of that. She always thought the low rider was an impractical choice made only out of pretentiousness, but it actually made sense with the HUD modification. Few other bikes would let you look ahead through the front and see both the HUD and the road.

The first half of the drive was uneventful and allowed Aysha to take in the sights of the metropolis around her. Old Harbour was definitely not one of the richest parts of the city. Once the hub of the fishing and sea commerce, the construction of a new superport outside town left a lot of people without a job, and a lot of businesses just moved to greener pastures, either closer to the superport, or to where people could afford them. The towering hab-blocs saw their value plummet, and with it, any interest in maintaining them. But even so, new people arrived in the city every day, and the Harbour was never abandoned. They drove across a large avenue leading to the northeastern limit of the neighbourhood, where the factory was. Reclaimed or abandoned old warehouses passed through their left, as the low-income hab-blocks, towering bricks of concrete and neon, passed through their right. Traffic wasn’t particularly intense, allowing them to keep some distance from the van without nobody coming between them, but they still kept alert from any cars that seemed to be driving too close or acting suspiciously in any other manner. There weren’t any.

Eventually, the van left the main avenue and passed under one of the many elevated roads, to take the narrow streets between mostly abandoned industrial buildings. Towering brick walls covered in graffiti flanked them on both sides, and the narrow sidewalks were virtually empty, save for the occasional junkie wandering, or working girl trying to make a living on a less disputed turf. The seaside factory was built within a concrete quay jutting out into the water. Large, now rusty cranes once fished containers straight from the factory floor to place them into waiting ships. But judging by the broken glass, boarded windows and the freshly cut chain and padlock on the open gate, nobody used that factory for any legitimate activity in a while. There were several garage doors towards the entirely empty parking from past the gates, and only one of them was open. A few lights had been placed inside, likely with a generator.

“That easy, huh,” Synchro said, breaking the silence he had kept during the drive, as they slowed down their bikes to follow the van inside the factory proper.

Within the massive building, they could see the grated catwalks crisscrossing the space above, and the now ruined machines once used to package goods and pile them into containers for transportation. Aysha spotted a brand, the silhouette of a bluefish, in a few of the machines. Maybe that plant was some sort of cannery, taking fish directly from fishing boats back in the day? If that was the case, she was grateful it had closed so long ago. There was no residual smell in the air. Just rust and human urine. The smell of decay.

Synchro was looking a bit confused at his data bracer as they parked the bikes a few meters behind the van. Aysha exhaled a deep breath, looking at the van and expecting the driver to step out and handle them the cred-chips so she could be on her way. Maybe she'd treat Cryo to some expensive food, non-synth food, to thank her for the support. But as she waited for a few seconds, realising they weren’t stepping out, an instinctive alarm went off in her head.

The sound of the van’s lock was finally heard going off and Aysha’s hand hovered towards the handle of her revolver. Synchro furrowed his brow.

“We are not alone,” he said, pointing towards the live feed of his drone, the thermal image display showing several human figures moving above them, across the catwalks in the dark.

Aysha didn’t have time to piece it all together but in hindsight, that should’ve been obvious. She had to act in seconds. As the rear doors of the van facing towards them began to open, she drew her revolver. She didn’t even wait to see what was inside, instead, levelling the gun to fire three snapshots towards it. Almost at the same time, a single bullet wheezed high above their heads and Synchro’s drone was shattered to pieces, but his eyes were no longer on the feed. As he saw Aysha drawing, he reached for his own gun, an SMG half-hidden in a holster at the side of his bike. He sprayed the back of the van with shots, joining Aysha in the effort. The bullets clearly didn’t make it through the armoured exterior, but the doors, which were opening, were suddenly pulled closed again. It was the time they needed. A few seconds bought as they rushed towards the sides, leaving their rides to duck behind some of the abandoned metallic crates and machinery.

Aysha barely had time to dive behind cover as the door opened and a large man with a heavy machine gun began firing in a maddening, relentless staccato. Blindly at first, towards where they were, shredding their bikes before trying to guide the torrent of bullets towards her. But she crouched behind cover in the nick of time. Looking across the open ground, she could see Synchro crouched behind his own cover. She signalled for him to fire back, as she was pinned by the thick suppressive fire. But as soon as he emerged from cover, a hail of bullets rained from above. The men in the catwalks opened fire with what sounded like assault rifles. Aysha cursed. They were both pinned. There was no way they could make it for the door without being hit several times, and no way for them to get up and fire back.

“Any bright ideas?” she shouted to him over the sound of gunfire.

Their attackers weren’t saving on ammo, and she knew they were trying to keep them in place, likely one or two of their numbers prepared to move around their cover and flank them. Solid strategy, likely these goons had some formal military training. Synchro was tapping on his bracer, and she was unsure what he was trying to accomplish. If he was calling for reinforcements, she doubted anyone would get there before they were dumped into the sea. But then he looked up to her and gestured with his hands. He seemed to be telling her to aim at the catwalk. Aysha frowned. It was not like she could emerge from cover without being cut in half by the heavy machine-gun fire in seconds. But once Synchro had finished gesturing, he turned back to his bracer to tap a button.

The explosion was deafening. A fireball emerged first from underneath the van, lifting it a foot into the air before consuming it entirely. The rising flames and blackened smoke bought them some seconds of stunned shock from the shooters high above, and Aysha emerged from behind cover, taking aim at one of them. Two shots were fired, both against the centre of mass. The last of armour-piercing rounds seemed to go straight through him, and her incendiary rounds set his suit and body armour ablaze. The man stumbled backwards and fell from the catwalk a few paces away from the burning wreck of the van. She was no longer suppressed by the machine gun but before she could take aim at a second foe, they turned their guns to her and she ducked just in time. She raised five fingers to Synchro, letting him know how many others she could spot.

Having drawn their fire to her, Synchro had time to slip from behind his cover and move deeper into the dark factory. She hoped he had a plan to help her, instead of just saving himself, but she couldn’t focus on that then. She opened her revolver and began loading all the chambers with the armour-piercing rounds, getting rid of the last incendiary one still there. Those guys were well-armed, she was sure they had armour too. That was when she spotted something moving, a long shadow cast by the burning wreck of the van. Someone approaching. Two, one from each side.

That was it. Knowing she wouldn’t have a way to take them both out before they had a chance to mow her down, she lifted her gun to train it where she expected the chest of the one on the right to pop up. At least she’d take one of them with her, she decided. In a moment like that, one would be filled with dread, but her body was flooded with adrenaline and all she could think about was taking one more down before she bit the big one.

The two emerged and she pulled the trigger. They weren’t expecting that, probably assuming she wasn’t expecting the flanking manoeuvre or was too distracted with their comrades laying down suppressive fire. The bang from her revolver was followed by a spray of red as one of them paid the price for that cocky assumption. Aysha still moved to try and turn herself in time to shoot the second one but ultimately knew it couldn’t be done. Yet her body moved out of well-honed fighting instincts. She heard the sound of a machine gun going off but the bullets shot way too high, above her head and towards the ceiling, and as she put her sights on the bastard on her back, he was falling down, hand squeezing the trigger, but one of his legs bleeding from a bullet going across his thigh. She finished him with two to the chest and looked past him, spotting Synchro crouching behind a pillar just a little past his first cover spot. Her comms buzzed and she picked up, and Synchro’s voice came from inside her head, through her commlink.

“I’ll toss a smoke. Run past me and towards the side door.”

“Fuck...” The idea of running in the open, even if with the cover of a smokescreen, didn’t please her but she wasn’t swimming in alternative ideas. “Alright.”

“Get in the orange car.”

“The orang-... Ah, what the hell. Okay.”

Synchro tossed the smoke grenade and after a second of delay, a puff of dark grey smoke expanded and engulfed most of the space between her and the second piece of cover. It wouldn’t last in such a big open space, but it was better than nothing. Aysha dashed across, legs carrying her as the men above shot blindly against the large obscured area. She made it past it miraculously unharmed and then continued to run past Synchro and towards the exit he had mentioned. It was deep enough away from the burning wreck of the van and generator-powered lights to be drenched in darkness. Aysha tapped the side of her head to shift her eyes into low-light vision mode and was able to get a blurry, black-and-white picture of her surroundings. The door was there but without power, the automatic door had no handles or manual controls.

“Locked.”

Synchro cursed over the comms and she could hear his SMG firing, both over his line and echoing across the warehouse.

“Shit. I’ll try to find another route.”

“Don’t. Just come.”

Aysha didn’t feel like explaining her plan as she yanked the front of the electronic pad and fired three rounds of her stun gun against it. Each of them impacted the circuitry and set off their electric charge. Instead of shocking a living target, the sudden jolts of power caused the circuits to haywire for a brief second, the door shuddering and wiggling back and forth a few centimetres, trying to both open and close at once. Aysha's fingers slipped in the cracks and she put all her weight and strength into pushing the door open until the railing system simply gave in and broke, cracking and screeching as she pushed enough of a gap that they could slide through.

The light from the outside flooded her vision as she emerged and she switched off her low-light vision. There it was. The orange car. An old sedan that had seen better days, waiting with the engine on and the lights open. Synchro rushed past her, hustling with a bizarre stride, bullets following him close, hitting the door and wall.

“How did you...” he began at the sight of the open door but a projectile whistled too close past his head and he dropped the question, heading for the car instead.

Aysha took a flashbang grenade, pulling it from her belt and tossing it through the door gap before following suit. As it went off, the flash could be seen through the building's windows. She took her place in the passenger seat and watched as Synchro pressed a button, causing the car to begin to drive itself away from the abandoned factory.

“By Gaia, what was that about...”

Synchro grunted as they drove across the parking lot and took to the streets, the self-driving vehicle wasn’t going too fast, perhaps Synchro hoped that by rejoining traffic and driving normally they could blend out to elude any pursuers.

“Only one thing that could've been about,” he commented.

“Sokov?”

“Last thing we did together, right? And the only one with the cash to pull this off.”

“I thought he was... Gone from the city.”

“Me too. Apparently, he holds a grudge.”

Synchro winced and that was when her eyes turned to his leg. The red gushing out of his tight leather pants suddenly made his gait as he left the building less strange.

“Shit, you’re bleeding badly.”

“No shit.”

“Do you have a medkit in this car?”

“N-not my car.”

“Then...”

“Used the same program I used to hack yours on the Montego job. Pretty handy, huh?”

He had a cocky smirk on his face that disappeared with the next pang of pain. Aysha went through the glove compartment but she didn’t spot anything aside from some bandages which alone wouldn’t help much. She still grabbed them and placed both hands over the wound.

“It’s gonna hurt...”

“Not my first ro- Ow!”

She pressed the bandages against it, applying pressure to try and slow the bleeding. She wondered where they were heading but as she looked out to try and see their surroundings to see if she recognised any landmarks, she spotted two black SUVs weaving through traffic at full speed. They moved with too much purpose for someone still looking for their prey.

“They found us.” Aysha moved her head with her eyes surveying the road behind them and her hands still on his leg. “Two cars at least.”

“I don’t think we are seeing the rest of that paycheck, huh?”

“Our problems are bigger than that. If we don’t get you some proper first aid, you are not going to see the sunrise.”

Synchro gave her a mock shrug.

“Eh... Too much smog anyway. Don’t tell me you care?”

“Only care that I didn’t get you back for the Montego job.”

Synchro put his hands on the wheel and shut down the remote driving, putting his feet on the pedals and speeding away. The two cars approached slowly, they had some speed on the fleeing runners, but boxy cars were bigger and clunkier, more awkward to move through traffic. It was enough for Synchro to manage to gain some lead, which was quickly lost whenever they reached a patch with less traffic. Looking around, Aysha saw that they were going deeper into the docks, an area of the city she didn’t know that well, and she couldn’t help but wonder where Synchro planned to go. Did he have a destination in mind or was he just trying to lose their pursuers? She kept the pressure on his thigh but she felt the warm blood soaking through the bandages, and she could swear the already fair lad was growing paler than usual.

Soon, from the car in the front, a suit-clad figure emerged out of the window, pistol in hand, taking poorly aimed shots in their general direction. One still managed to hit their trunk. Aysha winced.

“I don’t have enough ammo to fight these guys. I hope you have a plan.”

“Well... Something like it.”