I crept towards the skylights on the RCS warehouse roof, keeping low to ensure I didn’t silhouette myself against the evening sky and draw the attention of the guards and workers below. The clock in the corner of my vision said it was around 630pm. Darkness was beginning to settle over the city, but I was still wary about being spotted.

Once I got to the skylights, I peered down to the warehouse floor below and watched as two RCS vans pulled into the loading bay. They were greeted by four Tyger Claws, who began loading up the vans as soon as they were parked. The whole operation had the feel of a routine stop. The drivers and the Tyger Claws seemed almost bored with their work, reminding me of the scene I had watched a few days ago during my recon of the warehouse. Whatever the vans were carrying, it was the reason the Tyger Claws were hanging around the warehouse.

I couldn’t get a clear view inside the trucks and didn’t have access to the warehouse cameras. All I could see were the Tyger Claws packing crates into the vans. The drivers had wandered off to smoke or use the bathroom while the Tyger Claws worked.

Strictly speaking, none of the RCS vans needed a driver. Each van had a self-driving program installed that could transport the vehicle to a prearranged destination. The drivers were only there as extra security, a fact underscored by the pistols holstered at their sides.

After a few minutes watching the Tyger Claws load up the vans, I retreated from the skylights and headed to a small telecommunications tower I had spotted earlier in the week. I slipped my personal link into the access point of the telecoms tower and tossed an exploit at it that I had grabbed off a netrunner messenger board. Within moments, I had breached the security and gained root access to the tower.

Sometime in the past thirty years, the Night City council decided it would be a good idea to create a city NET – a localized internet that stretched across the six districts of Night City. They partnered with a local corporation called Ziggurat, and erected telecoms towers throughout the city. The towers were plopped down on random buildings in every neighborhood, providing free city NET access to any Agent that connected to them.

Netrunners quickly learned how to remotely access these telecoms towers. Exploits on how to tap into local access points became common knowledge, and I had easily secured one from a netrunner for nothing. Gaining root access to the local tower had, in turn, granted me access to almost every other device connected to it. Since almost all the warehouse workers and guards had internal Agents that automatically connected to the nearest access point for city NET usage, within an hour of climbing to the top of the RCS warehouse, I was reading through the text messages and emails of every worker, guard, and Tyger Claw in the area.

Even with root access to the telecoms tower, I couldn’t bypass the security on the RCS warehouse computers. They were connected to a private security system that required each worker and guard to sign in upon arrival. That was where my new friend Xavier Paige came in.

Xavier Paige. 22 years old. Employed by Revere Courier Services for the past three years. Lived in an apartment in Santo Domingo with a mother and two sisters, currently flirting with a woman in Heywood whose brother is a Valentino, and when he was 12 years old he saw a BD about a billionaire who had his own private zoo. He instantly fell in love with the idea of animals.

Unfortunately for Xavier, and most everyone else in Night City, everything in the world was straight garbage and most animals had gone extinct over the past fifty years. If Xavier had been born back on my Earth, he could have grown up to become a veterinarian. But he hadn’t. And since he was born in Arroyo and not Charter Hill, he’d probably never get the chance to see a real animal outside of a select few BDs.

I spent the next couple hours on the RCS warehouse roof, using the image editor program that Yoko had sold me. I had grabbed a few images from the city NET and carefully edited each one. When I was finished, I spoofed an email address to make it look like I worked for Biotechnica and sent a message to Xavier Paige’s Agent.

Biotechnica: The cats are back in town! Our scientists here at Biotechnica are hard at work for the people of Night City. We’re proud to announce early successes in our attempts to create cloned cats and dogs that will be available for pet ownership to ALL Night City residents in two or three years.

Biotechnica: Mr. Paige, if you would like to be entered into a drawing to receive one of the first lab-grown cats that we produce, please respond to this message with: cat facts.

XP: cat facs

XP: cat facts

Biotechnica: Did you know that cats can jump up to six times their length?

XP: cat facts

Biotechnica: Did you know that cats, like Humans, have a dominant paw? Male cats are much more likely to be left-pawed, while female cats are much more likely to be right-pawed.

XP: Cat Facts

Biotechnica: Did you know that cats have 32 muscles in each of their ears? This allows a cat to swivel their ears to hone in on the exact location of a noise.

XP: CAT FACTS

Biotechnica: Did you know that the name of the last surviving cat of Ben Rea, a British multimillionaire antiques dealer, was named Blackie? When Ben Rea died, he bequeathed his fortune to three cat charities and gave Blackie 7 million British pounds, making Blackie the first multimillionaire cat.

I had spent over a month holed up in my apartment studying netrunning because Cyberpunk’s hacking methods were radically different from what I was used to. The key difference was the Ihara-Grubb Transformation Algorithm, which allowed the Net to be rendered in 3D space. Instead of using linux commands to grab files from computers whose security has been breached, a netrunner could simply interact with them with their 3D avatar as if they were physical objects. What this meant was that much of what I had learned from tinkering with computers was never taught to netrunners in Night City. One of those skills that had never been used by netrunners, was steganography attacks.

Every message I sent to Xavier included a cat picture I had pulled from the city NET. Each time Xavier viewed one of those pictures on his Agent, he grew more fascinated with the idea of owning a cloned cat. And with each picture I sent him, I inched closer to my goal.

While the image editor software I had bought from Yoko wasn’t popular among professional photographers, it did have one unique feature I couldn’t find elsewhere: it allowed me to edit very specific portions of a picture. I carefully replaced tiny bits of each image to embed lines of code that were invisible to the naked eye.

Hidden within the intricate patterns of fur and whiskers in each cat picture were small lines of code that formed a larger program. When Xavier downloaded each picture, the code detached itself and hid in a dark corner of his Agent. Once enough pictures had been downloaded, the lines of code merged together and created the worm I had programmed earlier in the week.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

With my worm safely hidden in Xavier’s Agent, I snuck over to a small corner of the RCS warehouse roof, pulled out one of my XXL Burritos and a can of NiCola, and munched away as I killed time. The next step of my plan was a couple hours away, so after my quick and unhealthy dinner, I ensured I couldn’t be seen from the warehouse grounds below and slipped into a quick nap.

As the sun rose and early morning light began filtering into the city, I hid away in my tiny corner on the roof, fiddling with my laptop. It had taken more than a week’s worth of preparation, most of the money left in my bank account, and an infinite amount of patience dealing with netrunners who treated me like a child. But everything was finally ready, and I was about to pull off my first real heist in Night City. Sure, I had stolen a bunch of stuff from a dead guy’s apartment for Deng and had tried robbing the drug dealers near Lizzie’s. But those didn’t count. This job at the RCS warehouse was going to be my coming-out party.

Xavier’s car pulled up to the factory, and I noticed he seemed happier than when he had left work last night. His steps were lighter, and he was whistling a tune from the radio. I monitored my laptop, tracking data from the access point, and saw his Agent automatically connect to the local city NET.

I waited a few more minutes to ensure Xavier connected to the RCS security system – just like every warehouse worker and guard – and then sent a command to his Agent to unleash the worm buried deep within its system. My worm traveled through Xavier’s connection into the RCS security, bypassing the firewall, black ICE, and daemons that were protecting the warehouse computers. When it finally gained full access to the RCS NETArch, it created a temporary backdoor that I snuck through.

I silently punched the air from my hiding spot on the roof. During my recon, I was surprised by the level of security in the RCS warehouse NETArch. Even without a dweller on the premises it was way too advanced for me to be able to break into. If I had tried to breach it like a normal runner, the daemons and black ICE would have melted my face off before I could make any real progress. But no matter how well-crafted your security was, it’s useless if someone walks you straight through the back door. My worm gave me admin access to the RCS system, and I quickly uploaded my virtual assistant to the security subroutines.

I had to be careful. The warehouse didn’t have a dweller, so the security shouldn’t have caught the worm I sent through Xavier’s Agent. But I wasn’t entirely sure what kind of built-in alarms their NETArch had. Moving too quickly through the security subroutines could trigger an alarm. Over the next five hours, I trawled through the data on the RCS computers, reading emails and gathering as much information as possible.

Most of the emails had been sent by a man named Vincent Apisa who I learned was the manager of the RCS warehouse. A few months ago, Vincent had struck a deal with the Tyger Claws. In exchange for substantial off-the-books payments, the Tyger Claws were granted use of the warehouse and RCS vans. They were using the vans to smuggle chemicals and equipment throughout Watson, setting up drug labs to produce a new drug called glitter.

It was a smart idea and a great idea to smuggle goods throughout the city. No cop would dare stop an RCS van, fearing the corporate shit storm that would rain down on their heads.

I queried the warehouse’s inventory program to see what was in stock. The list was extensive, ranging from expensive clothes and consumer electronics to car parts and cheap plastic toys. RCS shipped items from all over the NUSA, with all the vans headed into Night City ending up at this warehouse. They’d unload the goods, store them in the warehouse shipping containers and on numerous shelves, then repackage everything and move them to their final destinations. I saw items destined for places ranging from Jinguji to hospital to small-time ripperdocs.

I scoured the list, picking out items that would be easy to fence. Then, I spoofed shipping manifests and work orders, sending them to the warehouse computers. Three vans were idling in the warehouse lot, and I ordered them to be filled with various goods and gave shipping orders that they were to leave later that night.

I intentionally avoided stocking the vans with the most expensive items. That would have thrown up red flags and drawn unwanted attention. Instead, I ensured that each van was filled with small goods that could be easily and quickly sold off with little to no hassle.

I flipped through the warehouse security cameras, watching as workers retrieved items from shelves and shipping containers, packing them into the three vans. Once that was finished, I sent a command through the RCS security system to each van’s self-driving program, providing different GPS coordinates for each.

Finally, I pulled up my internal Agent and sent texts to Fred and Deng, each containing a set of GPS coordinates along with a brief message.

Noah: Be here at 645pm. DO NOT sell the goods in Watson. Someone will get in touch to help you fence everything.

I sent a message to Marcus, the Dime-a-Duzz owner from my building, with another set of GPS coordinates and instructions not to sell the goods in his own store. I knew he had friends out in Heywood who could help him pawn the items there. I didn’t want any of my people selling anything in Watson. That would have made it much easier to trace the heist back to me.

My final message was sent to the IP address I uncovered at the Yaiba building earlier in the week. Despite having been in Night City for almost three months at this point, I still had no clue how to get in contact with a fixer. Neither Fred nor Mor had a lot of high-end criminal contacts, and it would have been foolish of me to try and waltz into the Afterlife and ask Rogue to sell all the goods I planned to steal.

Instead, I decided to contact Regina Jones. She was known for being touchy about her personal security, and I didn’t want anyone to know that I had been the person behind this heist, so I sent her an anonymous email listing everything in the two vans I was sending to Fred and Deng, along with their phone numbers and a note that the items would be available at 645pm.

With my plans nearly complete, I closed my laptop and waited on the roof until 630 came around and the two RCS vans for the Tyger Claws pulled into the lot. I watched through the warehouse security cameras as the Tyger Claws began loading the vans and the drivers took a quick break. Then, I activated the virtual assistant program I had inserted into the RCS security subroutines and started a timer. Five minutes to go before I would find out if my heist worked.

The virtual assistant program I bought from Yoko was typically used by techies and netrunners to give short, simple commands to various devices connected to an apartment subnet – things like turning on lights, closing windows, operating appliances, or a few other simple things. During the three days I spent preparing for the heist, I had been hard at work modifying the program to suit my needs.

I slipped back into the warehouse computers and located the three RCS vans filled with the goods I had ordered. Using my admin access, I sent a command through the RCS security subnet to activate the vans’ autopilot functions. Then, I opened the front gates of the warehouse and ordered the vans to take off.

Each an sped out of the warehouse at high speeds, the first one clipping a guard who had come to investigate the opening gates. I watched as the three vans disappeared into the city’s traffic, heading towards the GPS coordinates I had provided.

As the warehouse workers and guards started shouting in panic, I sent another command through the RCS security system to take control of the autopilot functions of one of the RCS vans the Tyger Claws were loading. I shifted it into reverse and floored it, knocking one Tyger Claw to the ground and pinning another against a wall. Quickly, I commanded the other Tyger Claw RCS van to accelerate forward, crashing it into a warehouse worker I was hoping wasn’t Xavier.

The warehouse erupted in chaos. Shouts and screams echoed throughout the place, the workers and guards bewildered by the two vans running amok. Someone quickly realized the two vans had been hacked and sent commands to the RCS security system to close the gates, sound the alarm, and call for reinforcements. Each command sent to the RCS security system that didn’t have my admin access was intercepted and altered by my virtual assistant.

After working on the VI for a few days I had renamed her Amelia Bedelia. I thought it was fitting. I had slipped her into the RCS security subnet between the users and the security system. Each command the workers and guards sent to the RCS subnet was rerouted to Amelia Bedelia who reinterpreted each command.

‘Close the gates’ turned into ‘flip the light switch.’ Commands to ‘call for security’ turned into ‘activate the warehouse forklifts and power machinery and have it drive in circles.’ Every ‘sound the alarm’ was retranslated into ‘turn on the radio’ with subsequent commands becoming ‘turn up the radio.’ And after every “successful” command made through the RCS security subnet, Amelia Bedelia displayed a message in the worker’s optics: “Your command was successfully carried out. Amelia Bedelia thanks you.” The same message was sent to their cyberaudio suites at full volume.

Within moments, chaos reigned in the RCS warehouse. Lights flickered, forklifts plowed into shelves, scattering fragile items, and shipping containers topped over. Guards and workers shouted their frustration as their optics were cluttered with nonsense messages, and the sounds of Morro Rock Radio blared throughout the warehouse.

With the first three RCS vans successfully away from the warehouse without anyone tracking their locations, I sent the final GPS coordinates to the two Tyger Claw vans still in the loading bays. They roared out of the warehouse and turned right past the gate, both heading towards the Maelstrom base I had scouted the previous day.

I wasn’t positive that the Maelstrom gang members would still be hanging around, but I was hoping that the two vans would reach Tom Ayers who’d know what to do with them. It burned me that I was indirectly helping Maelstrom – one of the absolute worst gangs in Night City – but I needed a fall guy for the heist. Both the Tyger Claws and RCS would obviously try to figure out who had stolen from them, and my plan hinged on the belief that both the TC and RCS would assume the first three vans were a diversion and the true target was the chemicals in the Tyger Claw vans. The two Tyger Claw vans would have sold for much more than the small items I had stocked the other three vans with.

With my job done and chaos everywhere, it was time to leave the warehouse. My three vans were already en route to their destinations, no calls for reinforcements were getting through thanks to Amelia Bedelia, and the RCS workers and guards were preoccupied with the wounded and trying to shut off the blaring radio. No one would notice as I left.

I walked to the edge of the warehouse roof, used a couple stacked containers to help me down to ground level, and then hopped over a section of the perimeter wall that hadn’t been topped with barbed wire. I turned the corner, stuffed my hands in my pockets, kept my head down, and ignored the shouts coming from the warehouse. The time in the corner of my vision showed only two minutes had passed since the warehouse gates opened and I sent the vans out.

In three more minutes, Amelia Bedelia would wipe the RCS security logs, erasing any evidence that I had been there. Then she would delete the log folder itself, along with a couple vital pieces of RCS NETArch architecture, before finally erasing her own source code.

I smiled as I walked away from the chaos of the warehouse and towards my apartment. That was a pretty good first heist.