Chapter Thirteen
Cold Storage
The rain didn't fall so much as it hung in the air, a fine mist that caught the neon and turned it into a technicolor fog. Chirp's navigation overlay pulsed in Riley's goggles, its faint blue lines cutting through the haze like laser beams, mapping a twisting path through Helix City's cluttered streets. Her boots sent ripples through puddles that reflected fragments of advertising holograms, creating broken kaleidoscopes at her feet. The wet air tasted like mildew and ozone, carrying the eternal promise of another storm.
"Showtime," Riley muttered, her voice barely audible over the distant thrum of mag-lev trains and the ever-present drone of the city. She adjusted her gear, each piece a carefully chosen tool rather than a fashion statement. The matte black bodysuit had cost most of her savings, but its hybrid weave fabric was worth every credit—simultaneously water-resistant, heat-dispersing, and flexible enough to feel like a second skin. Her new gloves and boots represented another small fortune, but on jobs like this, equipment meant the difference between walking away and getting caught.
The weight of the pistol at her hip was unfamiliar—she preferred to work clean, avoid complications—but Sable had insisted. "Sometimes complications find you anyway," she'd said, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that suggested personal experience. Now, as she slipped between two stalled vehicles, their chrome surfaces streaked with rain, she found herself grateful for the weapon's reassuring presence.
The alley materialized out of the neon haze like a wound in the city's gleaming facade. The team's silhouettes emerged from the shadows: Signal, lean and precise, his mask flickering with an idle loading icon that cast subtle patterns across the wet ground; Phase, their angular frame a finely tuned machine beneath their matte black and orange chrome exterior; and Aura, perched on a crate with calculated casualness, her oversized cybernetic hands tapping an erratic rhythm that set Riley's teeth on edge. The neon light caught on Aura's iridescent jacket, making her shimmer like an oil slick in the shadows.
"Echo," Aura called, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. Her hot-pink spiral eyes swept over Riley with predatory focus, lingering on the bodysuit. "Nice outfit." The words dripped with artificial sweetness. "Trying to play dress up like the big kids now?"
Riley adjusted her sleeve, fighting the urge to rise to the bait. She'd dealt with enough gangs and bullies to recognize a dominance play when she saw one. Instead, she let her gaze drift to Aura's flashy coat, which practically screamed 'amateur' to anyone who knew what to look for. "Just practical," she said evenly. "Beats getting spotted from a kilometer away."
Aura's smile widened, but it was all teeth and no warmth. "Cute," she drawled, unfolding herself from her perch to tower over Riley. Her cybernetic hands flexed, servos whirring with barely contained power. "Let's hope you put as much effort into the job as you did your little shopping spree. Wouldn't want you slowing us down."
Riley's fists clenched involuntarily, her new gloves creaking softly. The urge to snap back burned in her throat—she'd been running jobs in the Driftlands since Aura was probably in school—but before she could speak, Signal's mask flashed with a blinking exclamation point. His synthesized voice cut through the tension like a knife: "Enough. Focus."
Aura's glare could have melted steel, but she relented, stepping back with a theatrical sigh that spoke volumes about her opinion of chain of command. "Fine. Just trying to make sure our little rookie doesn't embarrass herself."
Signal didn't acknowledge the comment, his attention already fixed on the portable Hardwarp terminal strapped to his side. The device hummed faintly, its casing marked with the kind of wear that spoke of regular field use rather than showroom shine. Phase remained a statue, their golden optics sweeping the perimeter with military precision as they adjusted the long rifle slung across their back.
Riley glanced between them, unease coiling in her stomach like a live wire. She'd worked with pickup teams before, but something about this group felt off—too many edges, too much unspoken tension. "So," she said, trying to redirect the energy, "what's the plan?"
Aura's predatory smirk returned full force. "Funny you should ask." She stepped closer, invading Riley's personal space with deliberate intent. "Change of plans, Echo. I'm tagging along with you tonight."
The words hit like ice water. "What?" Riley's mind raced through the implications. "That's not the—"
"The plan," Aura cut her off, each word precisely weighted, "is whatever I say it is. I'm the team lead. You're the rookie." She leaned in, her spiral eyes filled with malice. "Got a problem with that?"
Riley's gaze flickered to Signal and Phase, searching for support, but found none. Signal had retreated into his work, fingers dancing across his terminal's interface, while Phase maintained their perfect stillness, as if the conversation was happening in another world entirely. She clenched her jaw, tasting metal as she forced herself to meet Aura's gaze. "Fine," she managed, the word bitter as bad synth-coffee.
"Good girl." Aura's hand came down on Riley's shoulder with enough force to make her boots skid slightly on the wet ground. "Stick with me, rookie, and maybe you'll learn something."
Riley bit back a retort that would have gotten her kicked off the job—or worse. Instead, she focused on Chirp, who hovered protectively at her shoulder, its presence a silent reminder of why she was here. The job. The payment. The chance to prove herself to Rio's crew. "Let's get to it," she muttered, ignoring the satisfaction radiating from Aura like heat from an overclocked processor.
The clinic loomed ahead, a study in calculated anonymity. Its exterior was plain—metal plating dulled by decades of acid rain and pollution, with only ghost-traces of a corporate logo that had long since been scrubbed away. The dim lighting around the building suggested disuse, abandonment, but Riley's enhanced vision told a different story. Her goggles highlighted a web of security measures: cameras with overlapping fields of view, motion sensors nestled in shadowy corners, and the telltale shimmer of active heat signatures moving within.
The team pressed into the shadows of a neighboring building, the rain providing additional cover as they assessed their approach. Phase moved first, their tall frame unfolding with liquid grace as they approached the fire escape. There was something haunting about their movements—too smooth, too precise, like watching a predator's muscles ripple beneath its skin. Without a sound, they began to climb, each motion a masterclass in efficiency. Their golden optics flickered in complex patterns as they scanned for threats, the rifle on their back catching occasional glints of neon as they ascended. Within moments, they had vanished onto the rooftop, settling into their overwatch position with ghostly silence.
"Wow," Riley breathed, unable to completely mask her admiration. She'd seen her share of augmented runners, but Phase was something else entirely—military-grade tech wrapped in shadow and silence.
"Get used to it," Signal said, his synthesized voice modulated just above a whisper. He moved toward the fire escape with unhurried precision, the Hardwarp terminal on his back reflecting fragments of neon like scattered stars.
"What's he doing?" Riley asked, more to fill the silence than anything else.
Aura's smirk took on an edge sharp enough to draw blood. "Why don't you ask him yourself, rookie?" The question carried enough venom to make Riley's skin crawl.
Swallowing her irritation, Riley followed Signal up the fire escape, each step carefully placed to minimize noise. The metal was slick with rain, but her boots compensated automatically, micro-treads adjusting to maintain optimal grip. When she reached the roof, she found Signal already setting up, the Hardwarp terminal unfolding like a mechanical flower. Its casing hissed as it opened, revealing a console that pulsed with lines of code so dense they seemed to move like living things.
Signal's silver eyes cast faint reflections as he worked, his fingers moving across the interface with inhuman speed. Each keystroke was precise, deliberate, like a surgeon making incisions.
"What is that?" Riley asked, professional curiosity temporarily overriding her caution.
Signal's response was characteristically terse, his mask displaying text before his synthesized voice followed: ACCESSING NETWORK. "Hijacking."
"Hijacking what?" she pressed, watching as camera feeds began to materialize on the terminal's surface.
"Security," he replied, gesturing to the screens where footage cycled in perfect loops. "Hardwarp point. Open node. Looping feeds. Neutralizing alarms."
Riley studied the process with growing interest. "So you're piggybacking off their own cameras to control the system?"
Signal nodded, his focus absolute as a green checkmark appeared on his mask, confirming success.
The brief exchange left her with a dozen new questions, but Signal's body language made it clear the conversation was over. Instead, she watched as he worked, noting how the camera feeds froze and cycled, showing empty corridors and undisturbed rooms with flawless repetition. When a small green icon blinked onto his mask, she knew it was time.
Signal glanced at her, his mask displaying a single word: READY.
Riley nodded, feeling the weight of the job settle more heavily on her shoulders. Every piece was in place—now came the hard part.
She descended to ground level, where Aura waited with predatory patience, her oversized hands gripping the edge of a rusted dumpster hard enough to leave impressions in the metal. "About time," Aura drawled, stretching her cybernetic fingers with deliberate menace. "Don't screw it up, Echo."
Riley ignored the jab, focusing instead on final equipment checks. Her gloves felt perfectly calibrated, the micro-suction pads responsive and ready. The climb ahead looked treacherous, rain-slicked metal gleaming under scattered neon, but she'd scaled worse in much poorer conditions.
Behind her, Aura's knuckles cracked like gunshots. "Lead the way, rookie."
Riley's goggles highlighted the disabled cameras as faint red spheres, Signal's work ensuring they'd see nothing but empty walls and shadows. She tugged her gloves one final time, feeling the micro-suction pads activate with a subtle vibration. The clinic's exterior was a maze of uneven surfaces and potential handholds, more challenging than it appeared but far from impossible.
She glanced at Aura, who watched with exaggerated boredom, her spiral eyes pulsing slowly in the dim light. "I'll go up first," Riley said, positioning herself at the base of the wall.
"By all means," Aura's voice dripped condescension, "impress me." She leaned against a nearby drainpipe, making no effort to hide her smirk.
Pushing aside her irritation, Riley took a deep breath and launched herself upward. The gloves connected instantly, adhering to the surface with reassuring stability as her boots found purchase. Years of practice took over as she began to climb, each movement flowing naturally into the next. She'd learned this dance in the wastes, scaling scrap piles and treacherous ridges, where a single slip meant more than just failure. A protruding vent offered an ideal foothold, and she used it to propel herself higher, finding a rhythm that made the ascent look effortless. The new gear helped, but it was experience that made the difference—something Aura clearly lacked, despite her swagger.
"Show-off," Aura muttered below, the words nearly lost in the ambient noise of the city.
Riley reached the rooftop and glanced down in time to see Aura finally moving. The team lead grabbed the drainpipe with her oversized cybernetic hands, the metal screaming in protest as she crushed it like paper. Aura hauled herself upward through brute force alone, the pipe groaning and buckling with each movement. The noise set Riley's teeth on edge—so much for stealth.
"Subtle," Riley couldn't resist commenting when Aura reached the top.
Aura's eyes narrowed dangerously, her smirk twisting into something uglier. "Just get us inside, rookie. I didn't come up here to listen to your commentary."
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Biting back another retort, Riley turned her attention to the skylight. The glass cutter came free from her belt with practiced ease, its nano-edge glowing faintly as she activated it. The cutter's edge was precise enough to split atoms, leaving no visible trace beyond the mathematically perfect groove that now outlined their entry point.
With the cut complete, Riley attached the tool's suction mount and lifted the section of glass with careful precision. The dark interior of the clinic stretched below like a waiting mouth, sterile and silent.
Aura shoved past her without warning, dropping through the opening with all the subtlety of a thrown brick. Her cybernetic hands caught the edge of a desk, the impact sending vibrations through the floor that made Riley wince.
"Nice of you to wait," Riley muttered, lowering herself through the opening with considerably more care. Her boots touched down silently, and she took a moment to scan the room properly, her enhanced vision cutting through the darkness.
"Don't dawdle," Aura snapped, already moving toward the hallway with heavy steps. "Cold storage won't find itself."
Riley followed, suppressing her growing irritation. The second floor stretched out before them, eerily quiet save for the omnipresent hum of medical equipment. Filing cabinets lined the walls like silent sentinels, and the emergency lighting cast long shadows that seemed to move when viewed from the corner of one's eye.
Chirp hovered close, its subtle light pulsing as it mapped their surroundings. A soft ping in Riley's ear coincided with her goggles highlighting a door at the far end of the corridor. "There," she said, gesturing. "Cold storage."
Aura reached it first, her cybernetic fingers curling into a fist that could probably punch through steel. "Stand back, rookie. Let me show you how it's done."
As Aura's arm pulled back, Riley grabbed it—a risky move, but better than letting her trigger every alarm in the building. "Not like that."
Aura's optics narrowed to dangerous pinpoints. "Got a better idea?"
Riley was already pulling out th bypass module signal had given her, keeping her movements deliberate and calm despite the tension crackling between them. "Maybe." She knelt by the keypad, connecting the device to the access port. The module’s internal systems hummed as they interfaced with the clinic's network, running through encryption protocols faster than human thought.
"Hmph. Knock yourself out."
Ignoring the jab, Riley watched as the bypass module’s light pulsed in increasingly complex patterns. Her goggles displayed cascading lines of code as the device worked, and after a moment that felt much longer than it was, the keypad chimed softly and flashed green. The door unlocked with a satisfying click.
Aura's perpetual smirk faltered slightly. "Huh. Lucky."
"Not luck," Riley replied, unable to keep the edge from her voice as she stepped through the doorway. "Skill."
The cold storage room hit her with a wall of chilled air, the temperature difference immediate and stark. Rows of refrigeration units hummed in perfect synchronization, their contents hidden behind frosted glass doors marked with precise alphanumeric codes. Riley's goggles highlighted their target, and she moved toward it with purpose, her breath fogging slightly in the cold.
The drawer opened smoothly, revealing a rack of vials filled with dark red liquid that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Twelve samples, each marked with codes that meant nothing to her but probably meant everything to whoever was paying for this job. She lifted them carefully, aware of their likely value, and began securing them in her messenger bag.
"These must be it," she said, more to herself than to Aura, who loomed behind her like a storm about to break.
"Well, look at that. The rookie actually managed to—"
The rest of the sentence was lost as Aura's cybernetic fist connected with Riley's face. The impact was like being hit by a vehicle, pain exploding across her nose and mouth as she stumbled backward. Her vision swam, lights and shadows trading places as she crashed to the floor, the taste of copper flooding her mouth.
Through the haze of pain, she saw Aura snatch the messenger bag, slinging it over her shoulder with a theatrical flourish. "Oh, Rio," she sang, her voice dripping with false sympathy, "it was so tragic. The poor rookie got herself caught." She tapped the side of her head meaningfully. "Happens all the time in this business."
Riley tried to push herself up, but her head spun violently, the cold floor seeming to tilt beneath her. Blood from her split lip painted abstract patterns on the sterile white tiles. Before she could find her balance, Aura was already backing toward the door, her frame silhouetted against the harsh lighting.
"You won't—" Riley started, but Aura cut her off with a laugh that could have etched glass.
"I won't what? Get away with it?" She paused in the doorway, her spiral eyes pulsing with malicious amusement. "Honey, I already have."
The door slammed shut with crushing finality, the sound of the lock engaging like a gunshot in the confined space. Almost immediately, the clinic's alarm system screamed to life, bathing the cold storage room in strobing red emergency lights that made Riley's head throb in sync with each flash.
She slumped against the wall, the chill of the metal seeping through her bodysuit as she wiped blood from her nose with the back of her glove. Her face felt like she'd tried to headbutt a mag-train, and the crack spreading across one lens of her goggles didn't help. The betrayal burned worse than the pain, though—not because she'd trusted Aura, but because she should have seen it coming.
"Chirp," she managed, her voice thick with blood and frustration, "find me an exit."
The drone responded immediately, its optical sensor swiveling as it began mapping the room in detail. Riley let her head rest against the wall, closing her eyes against the relentless strobing of the emergency lights. Her breath fogged in visible puffs, but the cold barely registered. The anger burning in her chest was heat enough.
Aura. That self-satisfied sneer, that mocking tone. The memory of her taunt echoed: "The poor rookie got herself caught." Riley's fists clenched until her knuckles ached, but she forced the rage down. Anger was a luxury she couldn't afford right now—not if she wanted to get out of this mess.
Her gaze drifted to the empty rack where the blood samples had been stored, and questions bubbled up through the pain. What made those vials so valuable? Normal blood samples didn't warrant this kind of security, let alone merit hiring a team to steal them. There had to be something special about them, something unusual enough to justify both the protection and the betrayal.
Riley exhaled sharply, the sound almost lost beneath the wailing alarms. "Focus," she muttered, running through her options. The how and why could wait—right now, she needed an exit.
Chirp chimed softly, drawing her attention. The drone hovered near a ventilation shaft high on the wall, its light pulsing in a pattern that suggested success. Riley pushed herself to her feet, using the wall for support as her equilibrium settled.
"Good work, buddy," she said, her voice steadier now. "Let's hope it's big enough."
The vent sat just above one of the refrigeration units, its metal grille spotted with rust from years of exposure to the climate-controlled air. Riley approached it carefully, her boots squeaking faintly on the floor. A quick examination revealed standard security screws—annoying, but not impossible.
"Figures," she muttered, activating the micro-spikes embedded in her gloves. The tiny servo-driven tools emerged with a soft whir, and she set to work on the screws. Each one came free with careful precision, until finally the cover detached with a reluctant groan.
The vent shaft stretched into darkness, barely wide enough for someone to crawl through. Riley's stomach tightened at the sight—confined spaces had never been her favorite, and the thought of being trapped in there if something went wrong...
"You've got this," she told herself, shaking out her hands to dispel the tremor that had crept into her fingers. She glanced at Chirp, who hovered nearby, casting reassuring light into the shaft. "Stay close," she added, as much for her own comfort as anything else.
Hoisting herself into the opening required more effort than she'd expected—her face throbbed with every movement, and her shoulders scraped against the sides as she wriggled forward. The smooth metal walls pressed in from all directions, making each inch a struggle. Her breath came faster, shorter, and for a moment the tight space seemed to shrink even further.
"Come on," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. Her goggles fogged with each exhale, and she forced herself to focus on Chirp's steady light ahead. "You've done worse than this."
The distant hum of the cooling system vibrated through the shaft, partially masking the alarms but doing little to calm her nerves. She clenched her jaw and pressed on, grateful for the micro-suction pads that helped her maintain traction. The shaft narrowed briefly—a moment of panic—before opening into a slightly larger junction. She paused there, trying to slow her racing heart.
The relief was temporary. There was no room to turn around, and the only way out was forward. Swallowing hard, she resumed her crawl, every movement measured and deliberate. When her goggles flagged a new opening below, her pulse quickened with hope.
The vent cover here was simpler, and she worked it free with minimal noise. A quick scan showed an empty office below, lit only by the ambient glow of a desk terminal. Without hesitation, she dropped down, her boots landing silently on the carpeted floor.
"Finally," she breathed, brushing off her gloves as Chirp descended beside her. Her claustrophobia eased immediately in the larger space, though her heart still raced.
The office was a stark contrast to cold storage—warm lighting, personal touches, a degree of humanity that had been absent in the sterile room above. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with medical references and personal items. A framed photo showed a smiling couple, and a struggling plant sat in one corner, adding an almost comical touch of attempted normalcy.
But it was the sleek holo-monitor built into the desk that caught Riley's full attention. Its surface glowed with a locked login screen, the clinic's logo rotating slowly above it. Her fingers itched with possibility.
"Chirp, dataport," she ordered, already moving to the desk. The drone zipped ahead, illuminating a port near the base of the monitor. Riley retrieved a cable from her equipment harness and connected Chirp to the terminal with practiced ease.
"Download everything you can," she whispered, despite the alarms still blaring outside. Chirp beeped acknowledgment, its light pulsing in complex patterns as it began siphoning data.
While the drone worked, Riley conducted a swift but thorough search of the office. Most of the files were standard clinic records—patient histories, treatment logs, supply orders—but one drawer yielded something more interesting: a thin, flexible plastisheet, its surface activating at her touch.
The sheet came to life with a soft glow, displaying rows of technical documents that made her eyes narrow. Most of the jargon went over her head, but certain phrases jumped out: "genetic sequencing," "biometric variance," "human trial data." None of it suggested standard medical practice.
"This doesn't look like normal clinic work," she murmured, scrolling further. The technical density of the information only heightened her curiosity, but time wasn't a luxury she could afford. She folded the sheet carefully and tucked it into a secure pocket, filing away her questions for later.
Chirp's soft chime indicated the download was complete. Riley unplugged the drone and stored the cable, giving Chirp an appreciative pat. "Good job," she said, already thinking about their next move.
The sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway froze her in place.
The footsteps grew louder, deliberate and rhythmic, heading directly toward the office. Riley's pulse spiked as she rapidly assessed her options. The desk was too obvious, the shelves too exposed. Her gaze darted upward, landing on the archaic sprinkler system embedded in the ceiling. Not ideal, but better than nothing.
"Chirp, lights off," she breathed. The drone's glow dimmed instantly, plunging the room into near-darkness.
Moving with controlled urgency, Riley sprinted to the wall and leapt. Her gloves adhered perfectly, giving her the leverage to kick off with her boots and wedge herself into the corner above the door. Her muscles screamed as she braced against the opposing walls, reaching up to grasp the sprinkler head for additional stability.
The door slid open with a soft hiss, and a flashlight beam cut through the darkness like a knife. Riley held her breath, her chest tight as the security guard stepped inside. The beam swept methodically across the room, passing over the desk where Chirp sat motionless, blending with the office clutter.
Riley's arms burned as she maintained her position. Her boots pressed harder against the walls, legs trembling with the effort of staying perfectly still. Sweat beaded on her forehead, threatening to drip and give her away, but she remained frozen. One mistake now would end everything.
The guard muttered something under his breath and moved further into the room, his light lingering on the shelves. Each second felt like an eternity as Riley waited, willing herself to become one with the shadows.
Finally, satisfied with his inspection, the guard turned and left. The door whispered shut behind him, and Riley allowed herself to drop, landing in a silent crouch as her overtaxed muscles protested.
She stayed low, listening intently for any sign of the guard's return. When his footsteps had fully faded, she released a shaky breath and looked at Chirp. The drone powered back up, its familiar glow oddly comforting in the darkness.
"Close one," she whispered, flexing her hands to work out the cramping. "Come on, we're not out of this yet."
Riley eased the office door open with exquisite care, scanning the hallway before slipping out. The alarm continued its assault on her senses, red emergency lights painting everything in strobing crimson. She moved in a half-crouch, letting Chirp map out heat signatures and movement patterns while she focused on staying invisible.
"Guide me, buddy," she breathed, watching as her HUD highlighted a route that avoided the roving security teams. She followed it with practiced precision, staying close to the walls and ducking into doorways whenever a guard's flashlight beam swept too close.
The building's layout was a maze of intersecting corridors and sharp corners, but Riley's enhanced vision gave her an edge. She pressed herself into a shadowy alcove as two guards walked past, their boots echoing against the metal floor. She held her position, completely still, until they disappeared around a corner.
When the path cleared, she darted forward, her movements quick but controlled. Chirp's light pulsed in steady patterns, leading her through the chaos like a digital compass.
The back exit appeared ahead—a heavy metal door with an electronic lock that still glowed active, untouched by Signal's earlier system breach. Riley crouched beside it, examining the mechanism with growing concern. She glanced at Chirp, hoping the drone had enough juice left for one more hack.
"Think you can handle this?" she asked quietly.
Chirp beeped once, and Riley connected the data cable. She waited tensely as the drone cycled through its stored exploits, each second feeling like a small eternity. Finally, mercifully, the lock clicked and the door cracked open slightly.
Riley peered through the gap, her goggles scanning the alley beyond. Apart from the distant hum of the mag-lev and the steady drumming of rain, it was clear. She slipped through the opening and eased the door shut behind her, not breathing properly until she heard it latch.
The night air hit her like a physical thing, the rain soaking into her suit as she leaned against the wall to gather herself. Helix City's endless neon painted the wet streets in shifting colors, but the familiar sight felt different now—more threatening.
Chirp hovered closer, its light dimming to avoid drawing attention. Riley wiped rain from her cracked goggles and pushed herself upright, her mind racing with everything that had just happened. The betrayal still stung, but something else nagged at her—the whole setup felt wrong. The job, the samples, the clinic itself... it was too neat, too precisely orchestrated.
Her fingers brushed the pocket containing the stolen plastisheet. Maybe it held answers. Maybe it just led to more questions. Either way, she had a feeling this night was just the beginning of something much bigger.
"Let's hope this was worth it," she muttered, touching her split lip gingerly. With one last look at the clinic's silhouette, she melted into Helix City's neon-painted shadows, already planning her next move.