Cutting through the cab was perhaps not Karla’s greatest idea, but it was fun, and her new sword performed beautifully. The blade cut through the thin aluminum and steel roof, through the seats, and through her target without much resistance at all. She now admired the blade as she cleaned and oiled the steel.
“You cut through the manager and the case he was carrying.” Freddie frowned as he looked over the two halves of the small case the man had been carrying.
“Can you salvage the data?” Karla peeked inside, it was a series of solid-state drives held in place by a frame. All were currently in two pieces.
“Yes, but that’s extra work I didn’t need to be doing.”
“And so was all of the mercenaries and extra guards I had to deal with. How many was it? Five chipped guards you said? I had to fight multiple mercs! One had a harness!”
“Fine, fine.” Freddie huffed as he got back to work. “But if any of this is too damaged, we might not have the documentation to be allowed through the gates. And those documents include where these shipments were supposed to go.”
“Why deliver it? Won’t the gear be worth something just by itself?”
“It’s your ticket out of this sector, and a really good paycheck to boot. You just keep polishing your new sword.”
Karla turned and looked over the place. It was a mess. Much of the machinery was intact and usable, but currently the Amarillo Heights gang were busy with tearing everything they could out. She spotted Selena stepping out of storage rooms in the back.
“Hey Selena! Are you just going to tear it all apart? What happened to keeping the factory for yourself?”
Selena shook her head as she walked over. “I don’t even want it now. Once the City find out a shit-ton of high-quality gear has been dropped over the valley, they’ll come down on this place like a hammer. Nah, we’ll make a few shipments, make some cash, and pocket anything cool for the family. Honestly, owning a large amount of military-grade gear will be more profitable than owning the factory in the long run. I thought they made vehicle parts up here…”
“You don’t think they’ll come soon? We’ve already caused a big mess here,” said Karla as she kicked a smashed machine.
“I bet the corporation won’t want this getting out. They’ll probably send a force down to reclaim it, but we’ll trash the place and let them have it. It’ll ruin them either way,” said Freddie as he stood up. “Karla, you want some replacements? I know a place with some decent-quality gear just… lying about.” He gestured to the factory.
Karla slid the greatsword into its sheath with a click. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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The gang stripped anything useful from the factory, pulling equipment, tools, and gear into small trucks that came and went in a constant stream. For several days they had looted and ransacked the place without rest.
This sight made more sense to Karla. The idea of taking over just because you murdered the boss was a strange one to her. Now they acted more in-line to how Karla thought gangs should act. Loot, pillage.
“How is it?” Freddie stepped back as he admired his work.
Karla lifted a leg and admired it. It wasn’t a jumble of pieces welded together but a pristine, new leg. Fresh. Black steel with bronze-colored plugs and hardware, the new gear looked fierce.
“Good, damn good.” She stood and wobbled a bit.
Freddie laughed as he put away his tools. “It will take a bit to get used to the new hardware, I’d suggest taking it easy for a few days…”
Karla took several steps, then dodged side to side and grinned. “These are great!”
She meant it too. The legs were powerful, and sturdy. She felt like they could take a beating without much damage, and the power they could deliver was impressive compared to her old pieces. Whoever designed these seemed far more concerned with durability than power, something Freddie claimed was common amongst She jogged back to Freddie with a smile.
“Yeah, just put some clothes on.” He held out her jacket. She scoffed but threw the jacket over her shoulders.
“What now?” she grabbed her pants and slid them on, the fabric stretching over her newer, bulkier legs.
“Now, we get you on the first truck up into the north, and with that,” he clapped his hands, “our contract is done!”
Karla picked up her sword. “And this won’t be a problem up there?”
Freddie nodded. “Hand weapons are considered personal defense weapons, no matter if they are a dagger or a sword from French Special Forces.”
“That’s where this is from?” She looked over the blade. Dark black steel made up the blade, with small circular holes running up its length. A thin, wavy edge as white as snow capped the blade, like a layer of snow an a stark black mountain. It was slightly sharp, even when the blade was deactivated. “Why would special forces use a big sword like this?”
“They have different specialists. Some are physical combat-oriented, useful for breaching rooms and close-quarters fighting. The merc you pulled that off of might have been a deserter of the French army, or they managed to kill one.”
“Well, now it’s mine.” She grinned and swung the sword over her head, misjudging it terribly and cutting deep into a bench. “Oh shit, still getting used to the arms.”
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Freddie shook his head. “How are you adapting so quickly? You move around for a few minutes and you act as if you were born with those limbs.”
“Secret. I have some, you have some, let’s leave them alone.”
“Ha. Fine.” He stood up and stretched, it had been a long session as he grafted on the new gear for Karla. “Be prepared to leave soon. You can’t take grenades or larger weapons through, so just the pistols and sword, got it?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” She had really wanted to bring something bigger and better with her, but had been reduced to keeping the revolver, and replacing the semi-auto pistol with another, better pistol from one of the managers. In the end, the massive sword was by far her happiest acquisition.
“Who are you murdering next chica?” Selena strolled over. “Do you really need all of that?”
“I do. And I’m not murdering anybody, I’m just… more aware of self-defense and how important it can be.”
“Right… You sure you don’t want to stay down here? We could use the muscle! My father would be happy to welcome you into the Amarillo Heights!” She flexed a tattooed arm with an interlocked A and H on the bicep.
“Thanks for the offer, but no. I have to find my friends. Who knows what kind of trouble they’ve gotten up to by now. Or if they’re even still in the city.”
“Too bad. Well, it’s been a blast.” She turned to Freddie. “You about ready?”
He nodded. “We’ll leave tonight.”
Karla perked up. “We?”
“I decided it’s time to head back north. There’s some unfinished business I have in the North Sector, and with the Rising Eagle Corporation busy with this clusterfuck, I think now will be my best chance to get back into the game unnoticed. Besides, I’ll have a kitted out cyborg guard with me!”
Karla rolled her eyes. “What will you pay me?”
Freddie held out a hand, and left it there, a strange smile on his face. Karla looked at it and waited, but he kept his hand held out, waiting for her. She tentatively held out her hand, and he grabbed it. A strange notification popped up in her mind.
[850,000 dollars has been deposited]
She pulled her hand back as if she had been burnt. “What the hell Freddie?” She hadn’t seen physical money since she woke up, and had wondered what kind of money was used now, but it was still a surprise to suddenly have money transferred to her like that.
“It’s not a lot, compared to what a full cyborg would earn for a job, but I’d appreciate if you could do me a favor.”
“You want me to guard you on the way up?”
“No, no. I want you to guard this.” He held out what looked like a high-tech pizza box. “I want you to deliver it to a location in the city. To some of my old friends.” He spoke over the com “Hab 5154, it’s in the north of the city, one block away from the wall. Drop this on the northernmost leg at nightfall.”
She looked it over. It was simple, and not-dangerous looking. It had rounded corners and several vents and seams, but the device had no real inputs or outputs of any kind, only multiple hardpoints to feed straps through. A small green light illuminated out of a corner of the top. Karla tried to peek inside, but something blocked her view. It was shielded.
“Doing some secret shit there Freddie?” Selena cocked her head. “Don’t think I can’t see the coms unit on both of you lighting up.”
“Is it such a secret if I’m doing it in front of you, Selena? I’m hiring our friend here, do you really need to know the details?”
Karla shook her head. “I didn’t say yes.”
Freddie twisted his lips into a frown. “Then…?”
“This isn’t a bomb, is it?”
No!” he shouted, louder than he meant to. He continued over coms. “It’s my life’s work. Everything I’ve studied or designed has lead to this. It isn’t worth much to most people, but my old colleagues would be able to advance years in a single step with this.”
She sighed at his pouting face and mounted the box to her plate carrier, her telekinesis feeding a loop through it. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it for you, but I better not get into hot shit for this.”
“Be careful!” Freddie pulled up her coat, but was surprised to see it neatly tied in, hanging below the plated carrier in a very secure fashion. “Oh, okay. Good, good. Thank you Kat.”
“So!” Karla clapped her hands with a loud crack. “When are we heading off?”
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“So, it’s out in the open now?” A large black-steel cyborg in a luxurious red suit ran his thick metal fingers over his bald head. From his lower jaw down, not a bit of natural flesh could be seen. He was sitting at a desk, yet he dwarfed the fine piece of furniture twice over. “Was he with them?”
“We aren’t sure yet, “ said Eleanor, a tall woman in a slim dress. She looked unmodified if one didn’t look into her glowing eyes. “I found one of the mercs as he made a run for it.” She gestured, and a man was pulled into the room by floating chains. The links tugged as if pulled by a powerful force, yet nothing held onto their ends.
“I-I didn’t run away! The charges were dead! My contract was finished!” the man in chains croaked.
Otis stood, his legs were as large as trees, yet each step was faint, quietly making their way across the fine carpet that lined the office. He stood in front of the chained man. He gestured and a hologram appeared above the desk behind him. “This group… was there a man with them? A technician? Perhaps aged a bit since this was imaged off of him…”
“I-I don’t have to answer to you. You can’t do this! I’ve done my job! The guild will not let this go!” the man shouted.
Otis reached out, and two of the chains floated into his grasp. He clenched the steel and pulled, the chains compressed and wound over one another like steel snakes, crushing down on the man’s chest.
The man screamed.
Otis tilted his head, almost casually, conversationally. “Was this man with the group? He’d be useless in combat, but perhaps good with anything electronic. I hear the security system was fried, the cameras spitting out garbage. That was the work of a technician, was it not?”
“N-no! There was a cyborg and a Canyon gang following it! Nobody else!”
“And the man!” The cyborg jerked the chains, eliciting several cracks as ribs gave way. The man screamed again.
“No! There wasn’t a man! I didn’t see anyone else! Just the gang that runs the valley down there!”
Otis nodded, contemplating that for a moment, then jerked outwards violently. The chains tightened, then met in the center, leaving little of the man’s chest in one piece. He huffed as he stood over the body.
“Otis, you ruined the carpet again.” Eleanor moved her hands and bits of flesh and blood pulled itself out of the rug, though a dark red stain remained. She clicked her tongue. “Do we make a move?”
“No. Not until we find him. We have to be sure he’s in our grasp before the Church finishes their work. But we can’t risk his harm, not when he still holds so many secrets. It will be a race to get to him before the Church or some other opportunistic bastard snatches him up.”
“But the factory?”
“A small setback, nothing more. Send someone to check it out, search this valley for any trace of him.”
“Yes sir. One last thing, this cyborg… do you think it’s one of his?” She gestured and the hologram changed. A frozen 3d image of Karla stood, knife in hand as she dispatched a guard. “Its gear is jumbled, but some of it is high-quality. Maybe that’s actually him? Perhaps he’s ditched his flesh for a metal shell?”
Otis huffed, the sound of a two-ton bull. “If that is him, then he’s already finished his work, and the church wouldn’t be far behind… We’d need to hurry.”
“Should we put a mark out for the cyborg?”
He nodded, his large hand rubbing raw spots onto what little bit of skin remained on his head. “If it steps foot in the upper sectors, I want it. The brain case must not be harmed.”
“What if it’s just a regular brain? Not digitized?”
“We will continue our search for mister Frederick Strauss either way. Until we have his work, or himself in our hands, we will not let him go. Not again.”
Eleanor bowed her head. “Understood, sir.”