The Alvarado cars designated for the rcs had been nearly wrecked during the earlier RPG bombardnt. However, with only a handful of rcs still capable of fighting, the remaining vehicles, after so ergency repairs, were just enough to carry the ten rcs who could still continue the mission.
After stabilizing the four critically injured rcs and treating the lightly wounded, Oliver climbed into the new Alvarado.
"You think those four will actually make it to a hospital?"
"Who knows? All we can do is hope they get picked up before so punks or kidney thieves find them first."
Mann glanced through the rear window at the injured rcs left behind in a relatively safe spot. "If only they had Trauma Team mberships. They'd be airlifted out in minutes."
[Trauma Team]: A private dical corporation with highly trained combat dics. As long as clients can afford the insurance, Trauma Team will respond imdiately to injuries, regardless of weather or location. Anyone attempting to interfere with their operations—be it gang mbers, rcenaries, or even another Trauma Team squad—will be dealt with accordingly.
"Yeah, right."
Oliver scoffed. "Even a basic silver mbership costs 10,000 eddies a month. You think rcs like us, who blow all their cash the second they get it, can afford that kind of regular expense?"
"Fair point."
As the vehicle drove further away, Mann shifted his attention to another topic.
"What do you think they'll get paid?"
"Paid? You an the mission payout?"
Karl glanced at him, not quite understanding why he was bringing this up. "The fixers already made it clear. Paynt only cos when the job is complete—'delivered' ans delivered. Anyone who died or was too injured to continue? They get jack shit."
"Motherfucker, I knew it!"
Mann clutched his forehead in frustration. "These corpo dogs planned this from the start! I was wondering why they were so 'generous'—turns out they just wanted to bleed us dry first, so they'd have to pay out less in the end. I should've known. Corpos never cut a check without making sure they get more in return."
"The worst part?" Karl continued, his tone almost amused in its cynicism. "So corpos probably weren't even trying to screw us over. But all it takes is a few greedy bastards in the chain of command looking to pocket so of our cut."
It was always the sa story—the ones in charge might be willing to pay fairly, but the ones actually executing the orders? They were the ones who'd skim the money, then turn around and act like rcs should be 'grateful' for whatever scraps they got.
"Shit, the more I think about it, the worse this job sounds."
Mann groaned, slumping back against his seat. He had mostly worked street-level gigs, so he wasn't familiar with how corpo contracts really worked.
Well, after this job, he sure as hell wouldn't be taking another one.
"Yeah, just thinking about it pisses off."
Karl exhaled sharply, then suddenly noticed sothing—the Arasaka convoy was slowing down.
A mont later, their vehicles began moving aside, making way for the rcenaries' cars to take the lead.
"What the fuck?"
Jackie's temper flared instantly. "They're making us take point again? When they need us, they throw us into the at grinder—when they don't, they tell us to fuck off?! But the second shit goes down, they'll be nowhere to be found!"
"They're banking on sunk cost fallacy," Karl said dryly. "We've already lost too much to back out now. They know we're desperate to finish the job—because if we don't, then all those deaths were for nothing."
"And what if we really just walk away? Or turn on them instead?"
Karl smirked. "That's the gamble. They're betting we won't."
Jackie clenched his fists, his patience gone.
"I swear, if I ever take another Arasaka job... I'm a fucking idiot."
Militech at least had Blanca, who provided decent gigs, so they were still worth keeping around.
"I gotta say... Blanca really wasn't that bad, huh?"
Oliver sighed. "You don't realize how good sothing is until you have sothing worse to compare it to."
"I could tell you guys a joke about corpos right now," Karl chuckled. "Arasaka runs on 6 AM to 2 AM shifts—twenty-hour workdays—and yet, in their free ti, these corpo fucks still have the energy to nickel and di rcs like us."
"Shit, guess they just instinctively know how to exploit people, huh?"
Jackie, despite his frustration, let out a laugh. "Man, that 'quick learner' line really got ."
As they talked, the Alvarado kept moving forward, automatically navigating through the Arasaka convoy, which had conveniently made way for them to take point again.
This ti, though, every rc in the car had their door unlocked and slightly ajar—just in case they needed to bail at a mont's notice. The last RPG attack had left a lasting impression, and chances were, this was a habit they'd keep for a long ti.
But then, sothing unexpected happened.
Nothing.
They drove straight through the North Watson Industrial Zone without a single incident.
No more attacks. No more RPGs. Not even a single enemy presence.
Had the attackers already exhausted all their resources? Had they simply given up after the failed ambush?
Karl wanted to convince himself that was the case, but sothing felt off.
The North Watson Industrial Zone was Maelstrom territory, but for so reason, Karl hadn't seen a single Maelstrom ganger the entire way.
Not one of those iconic glowing red cyber-eyes, not even in the shadows.
That wasn't normal.
"The ocean is always calm before the storm."
As they neared California Avenue, where the Azure Tower lood in the distance, the air inside the car grew heavier.
Everyone could feel it.
The calm before the chaos.
The closer they got, the stronger the feeling beca.
Then, just as Azure Tower's silhouette ca into full view, Jackie spoke up.
"How much ti left?"
Karl knew what he ant.
He also knew Jackie already had the answer—he just wanted Karl to say it out loud.
"One hour and ten minutes."
But that wasn't the real answer.
Jackie stared at the tower, estimating the distance.
It wasn't one hour and ten minutes.
It was ten minutes.
Because that's all they had left.
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