Meanwhile, in a different part of Blackwell kilometers away…

“This place is even more of a dump in person. I'm starting to think we took over the wrong neighborhood. Way too many junkyards on our turf.” Hotrod knelt behind the rust-eaten carcass of a van, her grey cybereyes focusing on the rolling gate that separated them from their target.

“Nonsense. It has great strategic value,” Switch said, also dropping to a knee next to her.

“The abundance of junkyards?”

“No. The choice of neighborhood. When this business is done, maybe we will have to do some spring cleaning, yes?”

“Is it too late to pretend I said nothing?”

“Yes.” Switch held up a chrome fist and pointed towards the warehouse, where a pair of CorpSec toting submachine guns were making the rounds. “That's the second patrol team.”

“How, uh, how could you tell?” Mary looked up from her partially assembled RPM machine gun.

“Their gait. And also their smell.”

“You can smell them all the way from here?”

“Yes. One of them smells like cinnamon sticks and the other smells like spicy beef jerky. Different from the first pair. Commlink, set reminder for thirty minutes from now: go to Primo Purchase and buy jerky.” Switch's commlink chirped in a muted tone, acknowledging the command. “We will make our approach after they circle around the corner and immediately break inside. Mary, let me know when you are finished assembling your weapon.”

“I just did.” Mary pulled back the charging handle with a satisfying clack. “On your go, Captain.”

Switch returned her gaze to the warehouse's entrance, where Cinnamon Stick and Spicy Beef Jerky loitered. “Hold. They are not moving.”

A minute passed, and still the CorpSec duo hung around that spot. Switch clicked her tongue when they pulled out cigarettes.

“Did we want to wait for their smoke break to be over, Captain?” Hotrod picked up on her agitation.

“No. Their lack of discipline is a good sign. We must strike now. Follow close behind.”

Hotrod and Mary barely finished nodding when Switch kicked into gear, quickly crossing the street. The go-ganger pair scrambled to their feet and stopped in their tracks when they both witnessed their captain vaulting over the high fence with no effort.

“Ah, fuck,” Hotrod muttered under her breath. “Mary, get ready to back her up! I'll get the gate.”

Hotrod zigged to the side and grabbed the gate's handle. The smooth rolling motion threw her off balance. She expected the wheels to be rusted over. The unwanted tenants probably saw to its maintenance.

She rushed in behind Mary, both hands gripping her AMP machine pistol, ready to fire at the guards who were still unaware of them.

----------------------------------------

Switch landed on her feet after vaulting over the fence. She didn't stop to consider whether her teammates would follow her point of entry. She only thought about dispatching those two slacking guards, as swift and silent as possible. Stealth was the most favorable approach, doubly so when they lacked intel on how many CorpSec were crawling inside.

A quick dash to close the distance. No more shadows to hide in. Her heavy footfalls got their attention. The one that smelled like cinnamon sticks dropped his cigarette and raised his submachine gun. Grunting, she floored him with a mighty blow that dislocated his jaw.

His partner spun around, wide-eyed. “Intru—”

Too late. Switch barreled into Spicy Beef Jerky, tackling him to the ground with her shoulder and dropping her reinforced elbow onto his face. The corner of her lips tugged upwards ever so slightly at the resulting crunch.

She turned towards the sound of boots thudding against concrete. “I told you to follow close behind.”

“Sorry for not having augmented bones and joints like you, Captain.” Hotrod had her machine pistol at the ready, scanning the curtilage for hostiles. “We're clear for now, at least until the first patrol doubles back here. Go in?”

“One moment.” Switch knelt beside the downed guards and rummaged in their pockets. She pulled out two unopened packs of jerky and a bag of cinnamon sticks, stowing all of those inside her duffle bag. “Commlink, delete reminder: go to Primo Purchase and buy jerky.”

Her commlink acknowledged the command with a notification tone that almost sounded disappointed.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Did you just— are we ready now, Captain?”

“Yes, I just stole their snacks.” Switch turned away from Hotrod's judgemental stare. “And yes, we are ready. Mary, take point.”

“Okay!” Mary stepped up to the double doors and hefted her RPM, finger on the trigger.

Switch and Hotrod took up opposite sides and hugged the walls. Switch held up three chromed fingers and wordlessly counted down.

When the count reached zero, Mary kicked the door open and took two steps forward, firmly planting herself by the entrance and bellowing at the top of her lungs. “Alright, who ordered the— Oh, shit.”

Switch peeked around her corner to figure out what warranted that reaction from Mary. Fifteen, maybe even more CorpSec scrambling to get into position behind erected ballistic shields. They just walked into a hornet's nest. Not good. A silver lining: the heavy defense indicated they were at the right safehouse. Maybe a little bit good. They would still have to break through.

“Mary, unload now, while they are still scurrying around.”

“Oh, right! Who ordered the DELUXE LEAD SANDWICH?” Mary held the trigger down, the deafening staccato of her fire reverberating within the warehouse. Round after round after round ripped through the unlucky CorpSec who found themselves out of cover. No retaliating shots just yet, Mary's rapid rate of fire doing a good job at suppressing the opposition.

Switch signaled Hotrod to inch forward and take up the left flank, and quickly moved to take the right. The wooden crates they took refuge behind won't stop too many bullets, but it was better than nothing.

“Reloading!” Mary dipped and rolled to the side, joining Hotrod behind her crates.

The warehouse exploded sonically into a full-blown combat zone. Switch peeked out of cover, quick-counting the downed CorpSec. Six, seven, eight… not too bad. She needed Mary's suppressive fire again to close the distance and take them down in close quarters.

The distinct slap of a fresh magazine and that satisfying clack. Mary was back in business. Hotrod blind-fired her machine pistol, creating a long enough lull for Mary to get back in position and be a menace.

Switch peeked again, waiting for an opportunity to advance. Maybe business was not doing so well, because she only saw two additional downed CorpSec after Mary's latest barrage. They needed another edge. She spotted a cluster of breaker boxes on the far side of the room.

“Mary, hit the far wall.”

“What?”

“Hit the far wall.”

“Okay!”

The tight grouping of Mary's rounds shredded the breaker box cluster, riddling the metal shells with holes. With a loud clunk of the lights shutting down, the warehouse went dark. The shots stopped. There was only the occasional rustling of cloth, the shuffling of boots.

Switch immediately activated the thermal mode of her cybereyes, as did Hotrod and Mary with theirs. Immediately, bright orange and yellow stumbling silhouettes appeared. Easy pickings, but she had to assume the opposition were equipped in the same manner, if not better. No time to waste.

She darted towards the nearest target and planted a solid shovel hook to the body, crumpling them to the ground like a sack of potatoes. One down.

A pair of boots followed her pace on the other side, followed by the telltale sound of baton meeting bone. And another one. Hotrod's putting in work. That's three down, three more to go.

She downed her next target—who was rather big and a tad taller than her—with body blows and an elbow to the face for good measure. Tearing her gaze away from her handiwork, she glanced to the side where Hotrod and Mary were, just in time to see the both of them dispatching the remaining two.

“We will need to hurry and head to the back rooms. The commotion just now might draw more of them to us,” Switch said.

The three of them ran deeper into the darkened warehouse, traversing the maze of tall empty shelves. A hindrance, but not disorienting. They must have ran out of time before properly setting this up.

“Movement in hallway, three o'clock!” Hotrod shouted from behind. Switch immediately pivoted on her heel and saw the thermal silhouettes of seven figures. Even the untrained eye could tell that was an escort detail from the way the six formed a cage around their charge.

A shot rang out. Switch recognized the report of Hotrod's AMP. The frontmost escort dropped to the ground. The rest of the escorts kept their composure and closed ranks with the remaining numbers, continuing their advance towards the indoor garage.

“It's her, I know it's her! Even the way she runs is disgusting!” Hotrod let loose a short burst towards the entourage but the rounds failed to hit any of her targets.

Switch noticed Hotrod losing her cool and hopped through a shelf, intent on cutting off their escape. With wired reflexes set to overdrive, she easily caught up and launched herself towards the escort guarding the rear flank. It wasn't pretty, but it was effective, the resulting collision causing their formation to break down like bowling pins getting run over by a bulldozer.

She hopped up to her feet and drove her boot down. The resulting sound was less the snap of broken bone and more the groaning of bent metal. Cyberlimbs. Augmentations aside, this group was different from the previous run-of-the-mill CorpSec, judging from how the members still standing were not panicking and had the discipline to immediately form a phalanx around Shy.

No time to waste playing around. One subconscious command later, wicked blades slid forth from both of her cyberarms, two on each side. With quick slashes aimed towards the middle of the formation, she managed to injure another escort, clearly feeling her blades slicing open cloth and flesh.

She was poised to strike again when she felt a sharp kick hit her side. She hopped a short distance back by instinct. A slender figure broke rank from the formation and stepped forward.

“You must be the VIP's former captain,” the distorted yet distinctly feminine voice began. From the hint of the accent, Switch could tell this particular opponent enjoyed baguettes on the regular.

“Former is correct. That means nothing now.”

“Ooh, wonderful. Rostislavan stoicism. Let's see how long you can keep that up, shall we?” While still staring Switch down, she barked out orders. “Members who are uninjured, resume escorting the VIP. Leave the injured with me, we will rendezvous after I finish beating down this go-ganger.”

Switch, even with her mostly deadened emotions, felt just a tinge of annoyance at the lead CorpSec's blatant provocation. “Hotrod, Mary!” She raised her voice, which felt like the first time after a long time. “Do not let these bastards escape. I will join you after I grind down this frog-eating frog into paste.”