Riding to the East, he passed the motel in which he stayed two nights back, thinking about what could have been if only he was on the spot faster back then. Riding his white as pearl Wintersaga, his fav. bike, he would punch her onto fifth and not look back at the city that made him, and destroyed him. Radio blasting on full volume, currently playing "Iron pump" by Samurai, only to be cut half way due to the late hour, when no one listens…

-Sir. Incoming call, unknown identification number.

-Deny.

-Unable to do so, I'm afraid. It's marked as "Overruled".

-Ugh. Accept.

Blip noise.

-Michael, I take it? My name is Dakota Smith. I heard about you. Roaming around the Badlands, offing convoys with a group of people. And I got a hold of this number. Thought, that I should give a call.

-Should I be pleased?

-That only depends on how much you are willing to do, for a price of course.

-Not a merc. 

-Well. The pay is nice. But I can tell when someone is not interested. Nonetheless I will leave some information about what you would do for me. Hope you can reconsider.

Deeper blip noise.

-Sir. Miss Smith has sent a message. Should I recite its contents?

-No. We are leaving.

-I understand.

The sound. Actually its lack, almost pierced the ears of white haired man. The sight of the city, in the distance reminding him of what he was, or could have been. For around four months he's been on the road, not one time he thought of coming back. 

The moonlight shone onto his pale skin, with a bluish tint, revealing an awful scar going from right of his mouth all the way up to his ear. His orange-red eyes with vertical pupils adjusting to the brightness very well.

He held up his head and groaned awfully, then leaned down and looked at the ground and shook his head violently, revealing his mantis blades, for but one second, due to increased anger, right before calming down.

-Aida. Read the message.

-Yes sir.

…

"Around a year ago, I received info that someone very close to me was trading, something that I would not want to be sold. Now, I only want the person off the planet, not you looking around or anything. I hope you can keep your curiosity down at least. His name is Sam.

 The bastard was out of town, that is why the job is recent, he just came back days ago. Do it hush hush or go in guns blastin'. I just want him gone. 

He currently resides at the NC border base. Security is close to nothing. Good luck."

Still thinking through it all, Michael's curiosity was peaking. Secrets were his weak points, as he believed that any information could be used, if found a proper way. If he was to have a saying; "Gun pointed at ya, can be pointed left or right, if the cash is close to tight."

…

The quiet humming in his head loudly overwritten the screaming of his bike engine. And the pipes with water, kept his mouth from drying out in the sands of California. 

Riding through the deserted road was easy, but it for sure was not pleasant to eyes, or even his hair. 

As he approached the border from afar, his eyes adjusted and his pupils widened and started shaking, as if scanning the area before him.

After which, he arrived.

-And then I tell him, "Yo' mama!" Haahaaaa!

-Funniest shit I've ever heard! Hah!

-Haah… ha. Yea, it was just perfe-

His voice cut off, the man next to him looked confused why his friend suddenly stopped talking and just stared at him.

-Mike?

Rob's hand reached out and snapped his fingers before his face. It was enough. Enough of an air push to gently slide half of his head clean off.

Rob stood there, confused and scared. A dream? Nightmare more like it, but it mattered not. Because it would be over right? He would wake up to his beautiful wife in Kabuki and make his morning coffee, as always. Then he would go and watch N54 news, and eat his daily breakfast, before going to work, like every day. Yes, that would happen.

Both bodies were dumped behind a small pile of trash, which smelled like shit, mixed with chemicals of a very poor mother of Four.

Michael only walked forward, Rak M63 "Szopen" in hand, with a 30 round magazine attached and a laser sight with current bullet display. The temporary merc would approach the gates and look to the left at the guard post, in which he would find no one. Confused he would look around and see no one else, he then would think for a second, before squinting his eyes and turning around.

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

The walk of shame that he was to take quickly reminded him why he hates his eyes.

Two bodies behind all the trash of the guard post would rot there, if not for the fact that one of them had to be the target. Lacking proper scanning equipment in his "Kiroshi mk.5 Mod n0.8" eye implants, he would take out a special camera device that would, indeed, confirm his suspicion.

-Fucker left. Damnit.

-Sir. I have scanned the area, it seems that in the guard post, there is a hidden entrance underground.

-Hmm. Good job Aida.

The doors opened with a loud creak, which would have been unusual if not for the fact that they were extremely heavy, with titanium bars for reinforcement and ICE as thick as one's frontal cortex. Not a problem for Aida. Once opened, a thick scent of metal and mold mixed with old meat hit Michael's nose. Not minding it too much, for he smelled worse, he went right in with no hesitation in his mind, with little to no care for what surrounded him as well. And there was much to care about. Next and down the hallway were tables with gutted up women and men alike, stripped off their cybernetics and even some insides too. Named tables were rare, even if there were any, they were mostly dead. Finding one person alive would be a miracle. And he was sure to find more than three, barely alive, Two men and one girl, being kept alive with what little Scavs could provide.

-Keeping pray alive. Information gathering, tortures and hormone sourcing. 

-Sir. I have detected multiple life forms behind the next set of doors.

His eye implants would open like sliding doors, revealing that his eyes were nothing but black orbs covered by imitation of an eye, with very advanced tech inside. He would touch his neck and breath heavily before deciding on not using his "Violator". Then his eyes would go back to more human looking.

He would put his ear to the door and listen closely, for anything.

-Sam. It's been a year, we have to move the base of operation. Dakota will not let you off the hook if she finds out. And you know she has solid ties to Nomads around Cali.

-I know. We've got bodies to move too. Are the three still alive?

-K, S and B. Yes. They breathe. 

-Well make them not. They will only bring us trouble. 

-MaxTac left a big pile of steaming shit.

-I heard it was Smasher.

-Nah. Word on the streets is that MaxTac swooped in and downed some psycho.

-And left so much destruction? Doubt it. As far as I know, the only possible person behind this would need to be one of the Big Three.

-Smasher is under Saka. Blackhand… noone has seen him for years, Kat Tajskiy is in Europe. 

-Maybe some Rattlesnake?

-Impossible. They only operate outside of big cities.

-Like here?

-Exactly.

Ten more bodies were carried out by NCPD that day. All dead, none alive. But before that, Dakota arriving at the place first was the expected outcome of the situation. Michael predicted it, like always. Yet one thing he could not predict even if he tried. 

What she would tell him regarding the "transport" or "not-alive stock".

Sittin on the bench would be considered a bit rude towards the fixer in the current situation, especially smoking right after. Yet it did not bother him. And it didn't bother her as well.

-Michael yes? Before the NCPD comes. Is it done?

-I would not call otherwise.

-And the cargo?

-You mean the dead?

-...

-They're there. Around… six. Three of them are still breathing, somehow. I suggest you get Trauma here.

-They don't operate outside the city. 

-Well. Then I guess that is your problem to solve, without me.

-I'll throw in a bonus if you help me move 'em. Just need to get to a nearby motel, from there I can get some medical help for them.

-Three, near dead, brought to a motel, by two shady people. Yea. Great idea.

-Have better? No, but I refuse anyway. Just ping me the cash. I'll be on my way.

-... Ill double.

-Throw in a bottle of Irish, and we have a deal.

-Great. I have space for the girl and one guy. You take the other one, we will ride to Sunset motel. After that I will make sure they receive proper treatment.

-I will be surprised if they make it.

-Ive seen bigger surprises. One time A guy I knew rushed- she was cut short by Michael who shushed her.

-I don't think we have time for that. They don't.

-Right. Let's delta.

Later that day.

-So. Two hundred eddies for each additional death. One K for Sam, and five hundred for each other person saved. Yes? That would be… 1600… 3100 eddies. Yes?

-If you don't want to tip me then yes.

-You're one expensive bastard, you know that?

-Rattlesnakes cost more.

-Rattlesnakes don't leave live ones. I'm lucky I did not have to call for one. 

-I would not argue with that.

-Y'know, you have the potential to be an RTS. Never thought about it?

-No.

-Huh. Weird. Regardless. Here are your eddies. Good job.

-Mhm.

He would go back to cleaning his blades, in silence as he stared into the steel. But it did not last long because the woman stared at him with great interest.

-I would not recommend it.

-Hmm?

-Scanning me. Bad move.

-I wasn't. I'm simply judging.

-Hmm. Fine. I was leaving anyway.

-Wait! I might have another job for you. 

-No.

-But it will profit you greatly!

-No.

The doors slammed shut with a sound so heavy and metallic that one would think that a whole car flipped over and crashed midair.

He would walk down to his Wintersaga and take out an old tech piece from his bag, before putting in a code, to which the tech responded with a ping and a hologram portraying the NC and its closest regions. The map other than that was bland and empty. But he stared at it as if hoping for something. Then the voice spoke out loud.

-Sir. We have confirmed that Master Gabriel and Master Raphael are not in Night City. I suggest changing the current path of our search.

-Hmmm…

-If I may, we should probably move to the Capital and continue our search there.

-Arasaka is in shambles. If they did not take the chance, they would be foolish.

-Master Raphael and Master Gabriel have indeed, once, said that they aim to come back, when the time is right, but the city is currently, in chaos. I believe that the time, whenever that may be, is not now.

-2076 was a good year for Arasaka. But now that Smasher is gone… Fuck. Fine. We go.