The Cyclops
-We are done.
-Wait, wait, not so fast. Cyclops, you know we need you. You're our enforcer, the eye of the storm, you can't just leave. You know what? Yeah, I forbid it.
The room was tense, in an old factory everyone could read what Cyclops was saying through their holo eyes, but no one was talking to him so to speak, he was only communicating through messages with those he did not trust. The previous boss of the maelstrom had found this pearl of merc and the new boss, Sartu, was milking the cow well now that he was in charge. With his men he had decided to mark the blow by eliminating one of the rising stars that his predecessor had created and at the same time a part of his supports. If the Cyclops didn't follow him, then neither did part of the malstrom.
-You killed the person I had a contract with. Nova for you, but because of you I now have a problem.
Sartu had 20 men with him hidden all over the place, visible, there were only 4 with him, that is the two cars parked in the disused factory, the meeting place had been fixed with the method of his predecessor. Cyclops had no way of knowing that they were there to kill him. But for that to happen, he had to show himself.
-Show yourself and we can solve the problem together. I'm stronger than Gaton in strength and support in the group. I also have more balls than him. What do you need? What were the terms of your contract with him, I'm sure I can honor them. A heist, murder, drugs, state your price.
The silence was palpable as the Cyclops' words came to him.
-I doubt it.
Shots were heard and Sartu drew his gun with his cronies towards the direction of the shots. One of the entrances to the half-demolished factory. A car wreck prevented them from seeing the scene, but a burst of assault rifle fire followed by groans of pain redoubled their focus on their objective.
-You think my deal with Gaton was for me. Actually... it was for him.
With the cover of a van's carcass, an object passed over it, arcing down in sploshes of gore next to Sartu.
-I was his life insurance. Charged with killing his own killer.
A decapitated head wearing the chrome prosthetic of the Maelstrom spider on its face looking at Sartu.
-You don't have to fulfill this contract anymore! he is dead.
Panic began to rise in Sartu if it was true, he had put himself in a death trap. He started to get into the car. But as soon as he turned on the ignition, his sidekicks opened fire on a target that Sartu could not see. Not wanting to take any chances, Sartu started the car, abandoning his allies and fleeing through another exit.
-The contract was not for protection, but for revenge.
But as he looked in his rearview mirror, he saw a figure in a helmet sitting on the roof of the door he had just left. The chrome helmet had no details except for a huge red lens staring at Sartu's back.
The eye of the Cyclops was on him.
******
In the factory.
-Report!
-We lost contact with Tex and his group, the head is Perelman's! Jam and Dicky say they don't know anything and are going around the outside!
-Okay! We're out of here, tell them to fall back on signal!
Crash!!!
Just as he said his words, a shadow passed behind them and smashed into the hood of their car. The lifeless body of Tex. The three gangsters raised their weapons.
-On the roof! He's on the roof!
Firing shots into the roof, the factory's unkempt windows only made the situation more tense. It was only just getting dark, and only the darkness of the night was showing through the opening in the roof from which Tex had fallen.
-In the car now! Fusio you should see it.
Bang!
-Fusio!
-Touché. I believe.
-It is dead?
-I think so.
On the roof of a distant silo Fusio with his sniper rifle scanned the roof and other openings in the building for the target. He remembered the moment, the bullet leaving his magazine, the inertia of the weapon pushing his shoulder. The duration of the shot had lasted only a few milliseconds as Fusio moved back into position. He had seen his target roll down the slope of the roof, only to fall from the roof into a hole that ended in a windowless annex, after which nothing happened. The body had disappeared from his field of vision. hence his lack of clarity on its condition. He was about to give more information when suddenly he saw it. A red glow, through the sheet metal. Shit, fucking netrunner. But already his body was starting to fail. His eye augmentation exploded, making him scream in pain.
-Fusio?! Answer damn it!
-We lost Fusio, let's go! Now!
Tex's body was thrown unceremoniously off the hood and the car began to drive away, but just as they were about to follow the path of their boss, the driver slammed on the brakes to the stop sign.
-Out, out. Out now!
Getting out in a hurry, the three passengers realized that the garage door they were about to pass was mined. The driver had just saved their lives. They barely had time to breathe before they were already raising their weapons, looking around for possible points of attack.
-Okay, let's go on foot.
Passing beyond the line of perception of the mines, the four came to a backyard with two tanks on their right and a row of wrecks on their left, behind them the car and the warehouse.
-Jam, Dicky, fall back. NOW. This place is a fucking death trap. We've got mines on us, the factory might be totally booby-trapped!
-Alright, we're leaving with my group, need any support?
-Fuck support choum get the fuck out of here Jam!
-Don't die, choum.
-Dicky?
-...
Dicky's line was dead. On the other side of the building we could hear what they assumed was Jam's group leaving.
-Maxi?
-Shut up, I'm thinking. We go through the gate and get as far away from this quagmire as possible, grab the nearest car and call it a day. Utia, you see the wall, run to the gate and go through it on the other side, we'll follow you to the main exit.
The only girl in the group ran towards the wall with the gate in front of them, taking advantage of her physical enhancements, she jumped effortlessly to grab the horizontal bar of the gate at the top of the wall, climbed on top of it before going over to the other side.
-Okay now go find the entrance where Sartu went through and we'll cover the factory
Moving with weapons raised, the tension was at its peak as the sounds of fighting had stopped.
-It's ok Maxi.
-We find a car, we get Fusio and we go to the hideout.
-And Sartu?
-Sartu is dead. If I find him at the hideout, it won't be the Cyclops who kills him, it'll be me.
The other three had been staring at the factory while walking backwards, finally starting to run away once they were on the road outside. Once reunited with Utia, Maxi looked behind him. The mass of the factory was silent as Night City lighting took precedence over natural lighting. A simple streetlight for this stretch of road carved out of the desert. Here nothing could tell that there had been a murder within 200 meters of them. But looking at the opening in the factory. Maxi saw the car's lights come back on, the engine roaring as he raised his gun ready to fire. The others had just realized that there was only one way out of the car, no movement was attempted on either side, when finally a holo sought to contact Maxi. The latter picked up, a mechanical voice at the end. The same as a few minutes ago.
-I'll take the car... and we'll leave it at that.
-Deal.
-I'll still kill Sartu.
-Not our problem. Knock yourself out, but be warned, the others might not feel the same way.
-I'm counting on it.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Lowering his gun, the others followed his lead, still hiding behind the concrete blocks on the side of the road. The car passed them and they let it go. Maxi could only imagine the world of pain that Sartu had just entered.
******
The Maelstrom, a compound of violence and brutal authority. The Maelstrom is not a single entity, but a fragile whole where everyone has to find their place. Otherwise retribution must be paid.
-I am your fucking boss.
Sartu shouted his displeasure as other men from the maelstrom The Steel Arms club, His return alone in a panic was already bad enough but on top of seeing him like that all the guys present felt disgust for him. The charcu doc of the club was there too next to him was Boris. A large man and just as tall as the others, a large beard covered the bottom of his face while two round red eyes were fixed on Sartu. Far from him was the confidence he had when he had killed Gaton. The doctor looked at him with disdain as Boris shoved one back in his face.
-I don't know what kind of drugs you're smoking to think we'd follow you. You're pathetic, you can't hold a fight, you're a coward and Gaton's death, if it's your doing, has made you a dead man.
A new punch and Sartu is on all fours on the ground. The charcu doc took him from his inhaler, releasing a huge cloud of smoke.
-I'm going to tell you all a story. Listen carefully because it is the one of our future guest. Once upon a time there was a couple from Santo Domingo who lived their best life possible. The father was a mechanic who worked with 6 Street, but his job brought him into contact with many gangs, including ours. As luck would have it, one of our members, a guy named Gaton, was getting premios delivered by the guy in question. Frankly, he had everything going for him: money, a job, health, a wife. His wife was beautiful, the kind of woman who could turn heads even without chrome. Everything started from there one day a valentino probably came for this car had seen the beautiful and hastened to court her. You know Valentinos, it could only end badly. The guy showed up at their house. Probably hoping to find the woman alone, but her husband was there. He invited himself, killed the husband and raped the girl. Our Gaton then arrived too late seeing his friend dead and his wife in a bad way.
Catching his breath, the whole club was now hanging on the lip of the charcu doc, taking a whiff of his mixture. He continued.
-Doing what he could he took her to yours truly, not being in psychology I could only treat the physical wounds. Unfortunately the tragedy did not end there. Nine months later the woman gave birth to a child. Gaton in the meantime had become the protector of this poor widow and with the arrival of the boy swore in memory of his friend to take care of him. Fate had it otherwise when the valentino, learning that he had a son, returned to the scene to see him. The mother armed with a gun shot him from the door of her house. I remember it like it was yesterday. If only his choom hadn't rained bullets down on the house. Anyway, blood everywhere. The kid takes his gun and shoots at the guy's car and drives off. Dead on the spot Gaton took the kid under his wing, end of story? No, still not, a few years later in the Glen, a Valentinos building. A massacre took place. 24 members of the Valentinos gang were slaughtered, with the only mark of passage being a huge red circle with the corpse of a certain Valentinos. This was Cyclops' first contract.
Sartu was now on his knees, terrified of what was happening.
-And you, out of nowhere, go to Cyclops and tell him that you killed his adoptive father. Do you want to die? Don't take the others with you. Gaton was a thousand times the man you are.
Everyone present then received a holo call. Everyone looked at each other hesitantly.
-Breathe, it's not us he wants.
-He is here?
All those who had answered could see the conversation in real time and even speak, but with the situation preferred to let the doc do.
-Yes, alive. Do you want him ? I can bring him out.
Sartu was about to speak but Boris kept him in submission.
-No i come to you.
A murmur filled the room as the call ended. One of the men asked the doc.
-What do we do?
-You see, those who feel cramped in their chrome can go out the back. Otherwise shut up and let me do the talking. Boris. Keep it up.
A series of stairs went down into the depths of the earth the club like most of Malstrom's infrastructure was located in the Watson district the industrial area of night city. A perfect place to make trouble or do things with all the facilities available to fight. It was here that Malstrom had established its territory. Contrary to what one might think, the Malstrom was not just a bunch of crazy dangerous men who had settled too much chrome. It was a band of dangerous madmen with some organization. With a network, laws, contracts, businesses. In particular nightclubs. The Steel Arms club was not the most exclusive, nor the biggest. Its real popularity was that of the gang members who for some reason loved this place. The club had been run by the boss of one of the Malstrom cells, so it was only natural that after the owner's death, he thought his successor should be there.
The cameras were formal each time one of them saw the red glow of the Cyclops' head it was deactivated.
He passed the bouncers who were too tense to stop him, passed the double doors, and went down the stairs, putting his hand on the railing. Around him a stranger would have seen chaos, tagged walls, stained floors, remains of broken bottles and even bullet holes and blood. The clerk behind him was about to signal that he could go in, but the Cyclops left a point weapon at the counter.
The man paused for two seconds before giving a ticket and putting the gun away in a hurry.
The Cyclops was now officially in the club. The further he went, the more the silence became heavy on the spectators. For several reasons, the first being that there were more and more of them watching the scene. Second, there was no music, for a club walking H24 on heavy metal background. The silence was deafening. Three, the lights were flashing. Creating a hair-raising effect even for augmented people with chrome in their eyes. One thing was clear, the Cyclops was taking care of its entrances. Passing in front of the dance floor, all the members had created a circle around the doc. To let him speak. The red eye barely covered by a hood was fixed on him.
Now in the middle of everyone, the gang could see who the famous Cyclops was, mercenary and hitman for the Maelstrom, the calm carnage, the bloody circle, the eye of the Maelstrom, the Cyclops.
Rather disappointing for some. Imagination is wild in the face of a little local legend. Gaton had purposely made the new myth an asset as well as a liability for him and the Maelstrom. The Cyclops was in a big hoodie with jeans. The hood was huge and easily covered the face up to the chin of the Cyclops, holes in the form of scratches gave a glimpse of the red glow and his chrome while the top of the hood pulled down over his face and the design of his neck gave the sweater a red smile reflecting back to the spectators. Of average size there was no indication that they were looking at a psychotic killer. The sound echoed in every head in the room. How he could call everyone at once was unbelievable, but no one asked the question.
-Doc...
-Cyclops. As you can see, Sartu's actions were of his own making. He loudly proclaimed that he had killed Gaton. Except for a handful, all those present are against it.
-Give me a minute.
Cyclops turned to Sartu, who hung up on Cyclops, who called him back, but he was once again rejected. Tilting his head to the side, the club speakers began to work.
-Denying me will only make it harder for you. I don't know how you killed Gaton, but you're already dead. Tell me how and why and you might have a chance at redemption.
He turned to a man next to Boris, approached him and with a wave of his hand asked for the gun that was on his belt. In front of everyone and in a dramatic way, the Cyclops dropped all but one of the cartridges, doing a 360 to show it to his audience. Putting it in the chamber, he rolled the barrel before placing it in front of Sartu, who was still held down by Boris with an arm lock.
-Here is your chance for redemption.
Waving him off, Boris let go of Sartu, who looked at Cyclops and then at the gun, taking it hesitantly. He picked up the gun and pointed it at Cyclops but his arm began to shake, he couldn't pull the trigger, slowly in front of the audience, his own arm began to curl up and point at his temple, his other arm was motionless along his body, his knees refused to carry him. Sartu was in the grip of the Cyclops.
A netrunner is a human capable of hacking live objects or implants, the more complicated the action the more talent it takes to create and apply what is called a demon, a malicious neurosynaptic program.
-Tell me why. How, and for whom. You have six chances to convince me.
-I... I don't know.
Click!
The first click, Cyclops looks on, saying nothing. Some members looked away at the turn of events. It was both an execution and a questioning.
-You're a mental patient, a psycho who should be put to death!
Click! Click!
Aaaaaaahhhh! Sartu was losing his mind, he now had only one chance in three to confess what he knew. A liquid was now flowing between his legs and it was easy to see why. But no one would take his side.
-OK! OK.
Click!
-Stop! Some militech guy told me that Gaton was embezzling money from the gang! I got Prina to check the data and it was true! They then offered me money to help them in an operation on the docks and then they'll give us juicy deals with Gaton's death.
Click!
-That's it!...That's it!
-...Dumbass... All ifs and buts, all promises, they never taught you that trust is earned, you really think militech is going to suck your dick like that? Doc?
-I'm on it.
-If you don't get it, you've been used as a patsy for Gaton's death, maybe they thought we weren't going to check it out, that the bunch of us were going to kill each other and just beat the shit out of you. Doc?
-I don't have Prina, but the guys on the docks are checking out the remaining Gaton deals, if there's a militech name on a rejected one, we should be able to kick them in the nuts.
-Hurry up guys, get ready, we might have to move. As for you. Let's see if your salvation has arrived.
-Noooo!
Click!
Sartu inhales sharply and repeatedly. The weapon was empty, empty. He regained control of his arm and looked at the weapon before his eyes as he looked up to see the Cyclops in front of him.
-You didn't think I wouldn't do it myself, did you?
Tearing the forearm of the sweater a mantis blade emerged from the fabric and in one motion the blade decapitated Sartu. His body fell back to the ground without his life in front of an audience oscillating between horror, respect and devotion.
-Doc, I want Prina. I want her now.
-I'm sending you the address and a description of what I know attached.
-The delivery must already be happening or has already happened, I want our guys to go around every place we control. If Gaton refused to take the risk to the point of getting killed, we can expect a strong outside presence in one of our areas. Contact the other leaders and tell them that if they are doing business with Militech tonight it's a trap, tell them that Gaton was killed before they could warn them. That should wake them up.
-I take it you're becoming the new boss around here?
The silence was palpable as they waited for an answer.
-For the time being.
After a second one of the gang members shouted.
-The Cyclops with us!
The room filled with clamor, men and women of the gang saying among themselves what they were going to do, avenge Gaton, go to the docks, study the traffic videos around Gaton. The excitement was palpable for them, they were going to avenge their bosses and had gotten a new one. Alone in the crowd the doc looked at Cyclops, knowing that the words he had said were exactly what he was going to do. He was going to lead this Maelstrom group, for now...