Blackjack’s bullhorn voice cuts through everything and I respond instinctively, mentally yanking my emergency ejector. This catapults me completely out of the network and back into reality with a massive nosebleed and disoriented as hell, but if Blackjack is using my real name on a run then he needs help now. And so I come to with a nose gushing blood and blood dripping from my ears to the sounds of heavy machine-gun fire and the van screaming around corners. Blackjack has me wrapped in a hug, covering my body with his. He instantly looks relieved when my eyes focus in. “Oh thank God. K- Lo-Res, Broomstick took a hit in the stomach, Widow is driving, Shadow is keeping Broomstick from bleeding out, and we have three K-M heavy drones on our ass that I ain't got the range to do anything about. I’ll give you cover.”
The big lunk winces as a burst from the drones pings off his back. He lets go of me and spreads out so he’s blocking more of the incoming fire. Big dumb bastard is still worried about the rest of us even while he’s getting shot. I wipe the blood away from my nose and spit some out for good measure.
“To hell with the contract and t’hell with this job.” I snarl as I flick up my AR overlay. Myriad screens flare to life in the air in front of me and my left eye throws a bright pink glow on Blackjack’s chest. I can hear Leah sigh as she tends to Broomstick’s gut wound. But I don't care. All pretenses of civility, tranquility, and plausible deniability fly right out the window as I crack open my arsenal of black ice.
My first salvo against the offending drones hammering away at our van is a cocktail of Track, Claw, Hammer, and Place. Track is the nicest of the bunch. All it’ll do if it hits (when it hits) is hold the pilot of the drone in their hot sim. It’s the foundation of the combo I call “Kei has had enough of fucking around”. As the “leading edge” of the packet hits the drone, I feel the slight tug of the other cowboy trying to escape, and almost feel sorry for them. But not enough to stop what’s coming next.
Technically any one of the three attack programs would be enough to incapacitate whoever is in control of the drone. I may have anger issues when it comes to close friends. The violently named Claw for example will shred the pilot’s connection to their deck, leaving them in much the same state that I woke up in. Hammer will most likely put them in a coma by increasing the feedback of their rig to dangerous levels and overloading their brain. Place isn’t named for what it does unlike the other two. It’s named after its sadistic creator James Place. The results of Place require a mop and bucket to clean up.
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It's with great satisfaction that I watch two of the drones fall out of the sky onto the road behind us, spitting bullets harmlessly (to us) into the sides of buildings. The third one immediately drops back to a "safe" distance to try and pepper us, but the pilot is scared and doesn't have the stability to make these shots anymore. After a few twists and turns by Widow, we lose our tail and make tracks towards the nearest street doc.
En route, I force Blackjack to lie down so I can start pulling lead out of his back. "What the hell happened, Shadow?"
Leah snorts. "We got in, got through, sweet-talked some guards, and got our package." She nods towards a slightly bloodstained duffel bag. “Then, another run came bursting through the door looking for a DIFFERENT package. They saw us with the guards and assumed the worst. It all turned into a Charlie Foxtrot faster than you can say soycaf. Broomstick kept us covered until he got shot in the gut, but by that time we were nearly to the van so we just ran.”
I grab the medkit from the side compartment and rummage through it for the clotting agent. “I saw there was someone else in the system with me, but not until you guys were way through. Did you recognize the other crew?”
Leah shakes her head with a small sigh as she accepts the instaclot from me. “Nope, all masked up. I pinged their systems for an ID like you taught me, but it just returned with a smiley face.”
I yank a bullet out of a gap between Jack’s armor plates. He winces underneath me. Guess that one got through to the flesh. “Huh. Good defenses then. All I’ve got to go on is a blue dragon. That ring a bell?”
Hank hisses behind me. I assume Leah poured the instaclot in. “Do you have any idea how many idiots in this line of business use a blue dragon? A fucking lot of them.”
Just as I'm about to respond Arash screeches to a halt and I go ass over tea kettle onto the ground. I'm just about to let off a string of curses that'd take the chrome off a cyborg when he calls back, "We're here. Get Broomstick inside." I settle for hissing angrily at him. Jack picks himself up and gathers up Hank to carry him inside. The big guy turns to me looking slightly concerned. "Hey Kei, you feeling alright? You're still bleeding."
I put a hand up to my nose and it comes away with fresh red blood. "Yeah Jack, I'm fi-." Just as I'm about to say I'm fine, the adrenaline wears off and everything fades to black. Damn. I hope I don't look too dumb fainting in front of Leah.