I was never a big fan of the Herrera Outlaw. It looked like an oversized electric razor and drove just as clunky. There were two of them in the game: one you could buy, and the other El Capitan gifted to V if you helped him steal a bunch of cars in the Phantom Liberty DLC. So, when an Outlaw rolled up to The Pack’s HQ, all done up in flashy gold and black, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the thing.
Before Angelica had even stepped out of the car, I knew it was her. Our scouts, a few of the homeless Mor had picked out and stationed around the city, kept a close eye on the downtown area. They fed intel back to HQ, giving us a heads-up whenever someone of interest – troublemakers, high rollers, or anyone trying to shake things up – was in the area. Angelica definitely fit the bill of person of interest.
It had been barely a day since I took out Sasquatch, and Night City hadn’t let up on the Animals. Angelica’s face showed it. As she stepped out of the Outlaw, she looked worn and haggard. The Animals were losing people, businesses, and respect left and right. They’d landed on everyone’s shit list, and people were taking shots at them just for the fun of it.
I knew she was here to prove a point, or at least try. Her head was held high as she strolled toward the HQ, flanked by three Animal bodyguards. She wanted to show she still had power, that she wasn’t afraid. But I knew better. The only reason Angelica was standing at our doorstep was because she had no other choice.
The irony was, The Pack wasn’t even focused on the Animals anymore. Not really. Our sights were set on Albert, the man who’d started this whole shit show. Sandra was digging through the NET for any trace of him or his people, and Anna and Deng were running their crews through the streets, squeezing people for info. None of us had time to hunt down the Animals. Well, except for Deng. He was starting to worry me. He was supposed to be gathering intel on Albert, but his anger over Mor’s death had taken control. Along with chasing leads, he was burning down Animal distribution centers, leveling pharmacies, and taking out groups of them in batches of threes and fours. He wanted them to pay for their botched hit on me that ended with Mor dead.
When Angelica and her bodyguards stepped into the HQ, they were greeted by an icy reception. Every Pack member in the place made it clear they weren’t impressed by the Animals swagger or their muscles.
The bodyguards tried to act tough, throwing their weight around, hoping to intimidate people into stepping aside and letting Angelica march through like she still had power. But they had severely misjudged the room. No one here was in the mood to be pushed around, especially not by members of a gang that had tried to kill me. They might’ve thought brute force would win them a pass, but it only made The Pack close in tighter, the tension rising as more and more of my people began to surround them.
It didn’t take long for Angelica’s bodyguards to realize their usual intimidation tactics weren’t going to fly here. Normally, when someone wasn’t cowed by their muscles, they would have reverted to what they knew best: brute force. But something told me Angelica warned them against starting any shit here today. The Pack was gathering, slowly closing in like a bunch of wolves who scented blood. The Animals weren’t used to being in a position where muscle alone didn’t command respect, and now they were surrounded, unsure, and clearly out of their depth.
Diego stepped forward, putting himself directly in front of Angelica. “You can meet with him,” he called out, signaling that she was permitted to approach me. Her lips curled into a smug smile, thinking she’d won something. Her bodyguards started to guide her forward, but Diego stretched out a hand, halting them. “Just Angelica,” he said, leaving no room for argument.
For a second, it looked like Angelica and her men might protest, but Cyndi moved in, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous edge. “Or,” she said with a slow, threatening smile, “you can leave and take your chances out in the rest of Night City.”
The tension spiked. Angelica’s bodyguards stiffened, clearly weighing their options, but Angelica knew better. I’d called her bluff, showed her how little control she had here. If she wanted to meet, it had to be on my terms.
She stepped past Diego and Cyndi, head held high, threading her way through The Pack. I had to give her some credit; she didn’t flinch. Walking straight into the heart of our territory, surrounded by enemies, and not showing a crack of fear took guts. This was her move to claim power within the Animals, now that Sasquatch was gone. She was the face of the Animals, and I figured that this was her play to secure that spot.
I was lounging on a couch in the back, expression carefully blank as she approached. Whether I was amused or annoyed, I kept it hidden, watching her every move. She sat across from me, trying to match my calm. But I could see the tension in her eyes, the nerves just below the surface.
“The Animals follow me now,” Angelica said, trying to keep her voice steady. “With Sasquatch dead, I’m the one making the decisions. I want to end this fight between us and The Pack.”
Zion was seated nearby, and he let out a sharp laugh at Angelica’s proclamation. “How many Animals actually follow you?” he asked, not even trying to hide the mockery in his voice. Everyone in the room knew she didn’t command the kind of respect Sasquatch had.
Angelica didn’t respond to Zion’s taunt, but I could see a flicker of anger in her eyes. The truth was, she had a shaky hold on her position. The smarter Animals had probably backed her, realizing their crew had made a huge mistake and hoping she could clean up their mess. But her power was fragile, and we all knew it. She’d been the brains while Sasquatch was the brawn, and the Animals only respected strength. Now, without Sasquatch, she was trying to hold it all together with intellect alone.
She needed my help for her to solidify control. That much was clear. Without Sasquatch’s muscle behind her, her power was borrowed, not earned. Now she was betting it all on me being interested in playing kingmaker, hoping I’d help solidify her control of the Animals.
Angelica was waiting for me to react, to give her some hint of where this meeting was headed. But I wasn’t interested in making things easy for her. The silence stretched and I could see it start to get to her.
“I didn’t know,” she said finally, her voice sounding a little too urgent. “I didn’t know about the planned attack on you. Sasquatch went after you on her own. I had no say in it. She didn’t listen to me.”
She kept talking, filling the quiet, as if explaining enough might change things. But I saw it in her eyes – whether or not she signed off on the hit, she knew. Maybe she didn’t agree with it, maybe she spoke against it behind closed doors, but she hadn’t stopped it.
“The part of the Animals that attacked you, they fucked up,” she continued, stumbling a little. “They were the dumbest of the bunch. The hit at the Columbarium…that shouldn’t have happened. It was stupid, and it definitely shouldn’t have happened on neutral ground.”
I didn’t move, didn’t blink. Her words were like echoes, bouncing off walls that wouldn’t vive. I caught a glimpse of Anna walking through the HQ, some of her people dragging a man behind them. I held up a hand to pause them, then turned my focus back to Angelica.
She faltered, catching herself, trying to pivot. “What I’m saying is…the Animals shouldn’t have gone after you at all. It was a mistake, dumb and shortsighted. We were making so much more money together.”
She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering, trying to pull me into her orbit. “Continuing this war? It’s bad for business, for both of us. You know that as well as I do.”
Her words hung in the air and she looked around, conspiratorially, before turning back to me. “And there’s something else. You need to know that someone close to you was feeding Sasquatch information. Pushing her to come after you.”
I didn’t react, but she pressed on. “Albert. He’s the one who was telling Sasquatch everything. He’s…he was giving her information. Where you were, what you were planning. He convinced her that you were going to attack her. Of course…I know that’s not true. I mean, we were making a heap load of eddies. But Albert was playing both sides, Noah. He wanted to take control of The Pack. He offered Sasquatch the chance for The Pack to work for the Animals. That’s what he wanted. And Sasquatch. But it’s not what I want. I want us to work together.”
Her words were spilling out now, fast and desperate, trying to convince me she had no hand in the hit or the chaos that followed. “I’m telling you this because it proves you can trust me. I didn’t want any of this. Sasquatch and Albert, they were the ones stirring shit up, not me.”
She was pleading her case, throwing everything she had into proving she could be loyal. But all I did was watch, silent, unreadable, as her gamble played out.
I signaled to Anna, who stepped forward, dragging in the guy her crew had hauled in. She dumped him into the chair next to Angelica, his body slumping as if he already knew his fate. Angelica’s eyes darkened, glaring at Anna, her frustration bubbling over.
“We’re in the middle of something,” she snapped, her irritation obvious.
Anna didn’t even blink, her expression stone-cold. She stood there, like an immovable wall that Angelica couldn’t shove past, no matter how hard she tried. Angelica, realizing she wasn’t able to intimidate Anna into backing off, finally let out a forced, humorless laugh, trying to play it off, but I could see the cracks forming. Her composure was slipping, and fast.
Her eyes darted to the man slumped in the chair beside her. “Who’s this?” she demanded, attempting to sound commanding, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
Anna didn’t both responding.
Finally, I spoke for the first time since Angelica had walked into the room.
“Carl Vostock,” I said, my voice cutting through the air. “Albert’s driver.”
Angelica went pale. “I already knew ‘the Hun’ had betrayed us,” I added, my voice cold as I let that sink in.
There was nothing left for her to offer me, no cards up her sleeve. The Animals were done for in Night City, and all she could hope to offer was turning what little was left of them into muscle for The Pack. That was the best outcome for her now. The once-feared Animals, reduced to being simple foot soldiers to another gang.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
&&&&&&&
The Kabuki waterfront was a chaotic wasteland, like a forgotten corner of a third-world country wedged into the heart of Night City. The area was nothing but a stretch of dilapidated sheds and rusted out shipping containers that lined the water’s edge, surrounded by mounds of trash rotting in the humid air. It was the kind of place where you could find everything from chop shops, ripperdocs, underground gambling dens, and sex traffickers. It was a breeding ground for the desperate, the shady, and the dangerous. Normally, I wouldn’t be caught in Kabuki – not because I was above it, but because it was smack dab in the middle of Tyger Claw turf.
I didn’t believe that the Tyger Claws were hiding Albert. His driver, Carl Vostock, had insisted that wasn’t the case. But even with the assurance that Carl hadn’t turned to the TC to protect him, walking into their territory to pull Albert out was far from comforting.
I was wearing Carl’s face and working with intel he’d given us. Turns out, the guy wasn’t exactly a paragon of loyalty. Zion didn’t have to do much before he caved, spilling everything he knew about Albert and his plans for climbing out of the mess he’d made.
After the failed hit, Albert had gone to ground in Kabuki and sent out several teams across Night City, scrambling to find a way to smuggle him out before The Pack could catch up with him. Once Carl gave us their general locations, it didn’t take long for Anna and Diego to flush them out and cut them down.
Angelica was under close watch by my crew. I’d told her that it was for her own safety, that if she was going to be working for The Pack, I didn’t want her suddenly getting harmed in the course of wrapping up this little fight with Albert. Of course, she knew that I was keeping her at the HQ so she couldn’t slip out and try and warn Albert that we were on to him. She swore she wasn’t in contact with him, but I wasn’t taking that chance.
The little war with the Animals had been wrapped up in record time. They were no longer a threat to anyone in the city, and would soon be operating under the umbrella of The Pack if they wanted to survive at all. The only loose end was Albert.
Deciding what to do with him had caused some debate among the crew. Everyone had their own ideas. Zion wanted to put a bounty out on his head – big money, spread the word through every fixer, merc, and gang in the city. We had the eddies for it, and people would be eager to hunt him down, not just for the cash but to get in good with us. Zion had even suggested we start taking bets on how long it would take before some merc dragged Albert back to us, bleeding and broken. But I wasn’t thrilled with the idea. It felt like we’d be admitting we couldn’t handle Albert ourselves, like we needed outside help to clean up our own mess.
Anna had a different angle. She thought we should expose him for what he was: a traitor and a rat. Once the streets knew he’d tried to double-cross us, and considering his past as a disgraced Arasaka employee, he wouldn’t be able to hide anywhere. Night City didn’t look kindly on traitors. People would probably hunt him down out of principle alone.
But Deng and I wanted something more…direct. More final.
Albert had recruited a few people into The Pack – mercs who’d never made it big, ex-corporate soldiers who’d flamed out with their better paying overlords, washed-up security guards desperate for their next payday. His following was small and shaky at best, but it was still enough for me to consider it a threat. I wasn’t going to let some band of rejects build themselves into a splinter cell, carrying a grudge against The Pack.
No, Albert needed to be dealt with before any of that could happen. Swiftly and permanently.
That’s how I found myself picking my way through the labyrinth of makeshift structures at the Kabuki waterfront, trying to keep an eye on the shadows where Albert’s guards lurked. They weren’t invisible, but they kept themselves hidden well enough that I couldn’t tell exactly how many people he had at the waterfront.
Still, nobody stopped me. To them, I was ‘Carl,’ Albert’s driver, and fortunately, he wasn’t one of the people in my crew who knew about my face implant.
I found Albert in one of the larger shacks. He looked terrible – haggard, strung out, and desperate, his eyes sunken from exhaustion. It was like the pressure was eating him alive. He was standing next to an old fridge that someone had dumped and he’d repurposed as a table, with a paper map of Night City laying on top of it. A paper map. I almost laughed. Albert was looking like a far cry from the corporate raider he used to be. He’d morphed into a wannabe king, reduced to squinting over some crumpled map like a rat trying to escape a trap.
As deep in the shit as Albert was, I knew I still needed to tread carefully with him. ‘Carl’ was capable but not the sharpest tool in the shed. Albert liked having him around for that very reason – he could manipulate Carl easily, and when things got messy, Carl was more than willing to get his hands dirty. But that made it pretty difficult to manipulate Albert into walking into a trap I’d set for him.
“Uh, boss, we got a problem” I said, making sure to keep my voice casual as I spoke to Albert. “The teams you sent out…well, they got picked up.”
Albert’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto mine. “What are you talking about?” he demanded, irritation creeping into his tone.
I shrugged, playing it off like I was trying to make sense of it myself. “Well, I was out in Arroyo, doing like you said, being sneaky and seeing what’s happening in the city. And, uh, 6th Street rolled up on me. Out of nowhere.”
Albert stiffened, his gaze darting toward the door where his guards were posted. Paranoia flared in his eyes, like he was trying to decide if I’d turned on him. I could see the wheels turning in his head – he knew Carl wasn’t smart enough to pull off a double-cross, but why would 6th Street suddenly take interest in his driver? His pacing stopped, and he shot me a suspicious look. I returned it with Carl’s signature vacant expression.
“They said they wanted to help you,” I mumbled, my tone as flat and dumb as I could manage. “Wanted to get you out of the city. Just…thought you should know. They said they got connections…and that The Pack’s been picking up all your people. They said they’re your last shot, boss.”
Albert resumed pacing, his mind clearly racing. His movements were erratic, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle where none of the pieces fit. “Why would 6th Street give a damn about getting me out of the city, Carl?” He stopped, narrowing his eyes at me again. “What’s their angle?”
Mostly, trying to get you away from TC territory so I can kill you and all your people.
I scratched the back of my head, pretending to mull things over real hard. Couldn’t come off too sharp or Albert would smell something fishy. “Uh…maybe they just want to tweak The Pack’s nose a little bit? Stick it to Noah. I don’t think they like him very much.”
Albert rolled his eyes, pacing the room like he was burning off frustration. “Of course they don’t fucking like him. He killed their leadership.” He muttered more to himself than me, still pacing, before stopping to give me a suspicious look. “What exactly did they say? What did they tell you?”
I scrunched up my face like I was working hard to recall everything. “They said they’d provide cars. Real low-key ones. Scattered around the city. Told me they could send me their locations so you could get your people to scatter, blend in. Then, everyone drives around town and heads to these hidden cars before heading out to the Badlands, where the Aldecaldos got some folks waiting.” I paused and sighed. “I don’t really get it, though. Extra cars? What’s that supposed to do?”
Albert stopped pacing, staring past me like he was turning it over in his head. “It’s a shell game,” he said, half to himself. “It means The Pack’s probably tracking my people. If we switch cars, they won’t know who’s who. Won’t be able to follow me.” He tapped his chin, considering it. “It could work.”
His brow furrowed deeper as he thought, weighing the risks. “And they’re just offering this to me, out of the kindness of their hearts?”
I shrugged again, keeping the act simple. “They didn’t give me all the details. Just said to bring it to you, see if you’re interested.”
Albert paced again, talking quietly to himself. “My people switch cars, they scatter…6th Street’s got the routes planned…we stay under the radar, make it to the Badlands…it could work.”
He fell silent, thinking, his mind ticking away as he searched for the trap hidden in the offer. He stayed quiet for a long time, tension building in the room.
Finally, he nodded, still cautious. “Alright, Carl. You get back to 6th Street. Tell them I’m interested. If they can help me get out of Night City, I’ll take it. But don’t make any promises. I still don’t know what they’re getting out of this.”
I gave him a slow, dumb nod. “Sure thing, boss. I’ll talk to ‘em.”
I watched his eyes glow gold, already calling in a few of his people to start getting ready. He might have been intrigued, but he wasn’t letting his guard down. Not yet.
&&&
I was shunted off to the side to watch Albert try to rally what remained of his loyalists. He’d called in all his people and the turnout surprised me; about two dozen people were gathered – more than I’d anticipated. These weren’t just grunts, either. They were more like field captains among his scattered ranks, a mix of ex-corporate soldiers and failed mercs now left to fend for themselves. They’d come to hear Albert’s pitch, no doubt planning to pass along his words to the rest of their people scattered throughout Kabuki and the wider city.
They trickled in, complaining in low voices, frustration visible on their faces. Their whispers betrayed their unease. They were getting tired of trying to dodge The Pack’s hunting parties, angry about living on the streets, and starting to regret ever following Albert. I heard a few grumble that they’d been better off sticking with The Pack, where, at least, there’d been some semblance of protection.
They were cornered, on the backfoot, and with nowhere left to go. And if they slipped away now to regroup, they’d only return stronger, more bitter, with a score to settle. I couldn’t let that happen. Not for the first time I thought about calling all my people in to march on Kabuki and having a big ol’ shootout, damn what the Tyger Claws would think.
Albert raised his hands, projecting calm authority as he spoke. “I know things have been rough,” he said, his voice smooth as he moved over to the beat-up fridge that he’d turned into his war room table. He pointed to a few various dots that he’d marked across the city on his paper map.
“6th Street’s got our backs on this. They’ve stashed clean cars for us all around the city. Here,” he said, indicating each dot. “Everyone will split up, drive out to one of these marked locations, swap into a clean ride that can’t be traced by The Pack. Then you head straight out of the city, and we all meet up in the Badlands. There’s a nomad clan out there waiting for us. They’ll get us out of here until things cool down. Then? We come back, regroup, make our way to the top.” He laid out his escape plan with a confidence that almost passed for genuine leadership, playing it up like he’d crafted some brilliant solution.
Watching Albert talk up his plan, a strange sense of déjà vu crept over me. This was Rick Morton all over again – another enemy tricked into driving straight into an ambush, ending a major threat with one decisive move. Albert was falling into the same trap I’d laid out for Rick, too blinded by his own desperation to see the setup.
I glanced at the paper map, comparing it to the information Diego had sent earlier. I’d asked him to scout ambush points where Albert’s men would be hemmed in, believing they had a clean exit. I could picture it already: ambush teams lying in wait, ready for Albert’s people to roll right into the kill zone.
But as Albert continued, talking about how they’d rebuild and come back stronger, an uneasy feeling crept up my spine. Was I falling into a pattern here? Laying out the same kind of trap, using the same tactics over and over? It had worked against Morton, and it would work against Albert, but what about next time? What if someone set me up like this, thinking I had everything under control right up until the end?
I stayed silent in the shadows, arms crossed as I listened, mind spinning. This plan would work. Albert and his people were finished. But as I watched him bluff his way through one last play, I made a mental note to myself: keep evolving. Because if I didn’t stay ahead of the game, one day, I’d end up in a room thinking I had everything under control, right before I got caught with my pants down.
&&&
I drove in silence, only the hum of the engine filling the cabin as we drove away from Watson and out toward Pacifica. Albert sat in the back, staring out the window, occasionally tapping his fingers against his leg, like he was working out something only he could see. Beside me, his bodyguard shifted, uneasy but quiet. I was suddenly reminded of that scene in the Godfather where the mobsters drive out to the middle of nowhere to whack the driver in the car, and a cool chill rolled down my spine.
My internal Agent pinged, flashing an update in my vision. It was the first of many updates I was hoping to get.
Zion: they’re down. Second spot cleared
His team had intercepted and ambushed one of Albert’s crews exactly as planned. Quick and clean. No complications.
It was our first hit of the night, and it brought a touch of satisfaction after a tense start. Diego had sent a message earlier, cautioning everyone to let the first team to get to a car go free. He’d pointed out that if we hit Albert’s guys right out of the gate, Albert might smell a setup and bail before we could finish. So, Zion had hotwired a decoy car, parked it where Albert’s people expected it, then watched from the shadows as they swapped cars, unaware. A few moments later, Albert received confirmation that his first team was “clear” and “on their way out of the city.” I caught him exhale in relief in the rearview mirror. That bit of trust was all we needed to keep him from getting skittish.
I kept my eyes on the road as I pointed us in the direction of Pacifica and drove. Albert occasionally broke the silence of the ride by muttering to himself, rambling on about how the Animals had botched things and how he’d have handled everything better if he were running The Pack himself. I let him ramble, eyes fixed on the road as updates rolled in from my crew. Every few minutes, another message: Done. Another portion of Albert’s strength was cut away, another piece of his network erased before they could get out of their cars.
The road stretched on until the silhouette of Pacifica’s ruins filled the horizon, dark and skeletal against the night sky. Finally, I pulled the car up under the bridge Albert had marked, far out on the southern edge of the city, where broken roads met the empty coastline. The wind gusted through, mixing with the low roar of distant waves. I killed the engine and climbed out, Albert and his bodyguard following.
Albert’s eyes darted around, scanning the shadows under the bridge for the car he expected. “Where’s the fucking ride?” he demanded, the sharpness in his voice barely covering the flicker of nervousness edging into his tone.
I didn’t answer. I simply unholstered the Nue pistol I’d taken from Carl and raised it. Before the bodyguard even realized what was coming, I squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked through the air, and he crumpled to the ground without so much as a grump. The sound jolted Albert out of whatever slim grip he’d had on his nerves. His eyes shot to me, frozen with shock as I deactivate my face implant and let my features settle back into their own.
“Noah—” he stammered, the recognition and fear spilling out as he slowly backed away from me, hands raised slightly, shaking.
“Calm down, Albert.” I kept my voice level, my eyes locked onto him. “I’m not going to kill you.”
He stopped mid-breath, visibly trying to understand what I was saying, yet his posture stayed tense, unconvinced. Only when I reholstered the Nue did he let out a single, shuddering breath, the fear loosening its grip – but not by much.
“I lost the coin flip,” I said calmly.
The words hit him like a slow-acting drug, his expression going from shock to confusion. He blinked, struggling to understand, until a scraping sound broke through his haze. He turned, and there was Deng, having emerged from just out of sight, dragging a metal bat along the ground, letting it scrape against the concrete as he approached. The look on his face was pure rage and anger and disgust.
Albert’s face paled as he finally understood what I’d said. His betrayal had cost The Pack. It had taken something from us. Everyone had wanted their chance to be the one to put a bullet into Albert and try for some sense of closure from what he’d done to us. But in the end, every single one of them had stepped back and gave either Deng or me the honor of closing this chapter.
I saw the fear turn to bile in his throat the moment Albert realized he wasn’t walking away from this.