Novels2Search
Trading Hells
75: On the job

75: On the job

Further planning was hindered by us not yet knowing where exactly our facility would be located.

We could not even ascertain how much of what industrial machines we would need, much less how much room they would take up.

Sure, I insisted that we use good materials, at least 30 cm of carbon-weave plascrete, with good thermal insulation.

Yes, that was somewhat more expensive than plain plascrete, and significantly so compared to concrete, but it provided more than twice the toughness than the plascrete and nearly 100 times that of reinforced concrete.

For the rest, I would have to look into what machinery I would need before we could plan the assembly lines, and in consequence the buildings. Yes, the building for the fusactor was already a known variable, but that was all.

That was the reason that when Hunter got out of the auto-surgeon, Michael prepared to leave. I gave him the two office consoles I had created for him and his father before he left.

Sadly, the consoles had the Cirrium K8 instead of the Hyperion. Ben had insisted that nobody gets access to a Chimaera or a Hyperion, or anything else that would need the NADA or a Q-link. That did of course not mean that I had not designed a variant with a Hyperion. Or better, a few variants, with multiple levels of Hyperions.

After all, when jacks became commonplace people would need strong consoles, so why not prepare for it? And yes, I also designed a rudimentary game console. I would have to adapt the OS for it, but that had time.

I also had an Eminence KE CR 15 clone for Hunter to play with. As promised, nothing spectacular, just enough to get his feet wet. He still accepted it grudgingly, apparently not yet accepting that he would get nothing better until he could afford it.

Heck, a trained chimp would be able to afford something better within a month. But… well, he would learn, or he would fry.

Shortly after they left, a midsized black man who introduced himself as Argo arrived. The implantation process was quick and painless, and I was another $35 million richer.

And Argo was happy. He slobbered over Precious and tried, unsuccessfully I might add, to convince me to make him an Mk IV. My counter-offer was to sell him the plans for the Mk. IV so he could build it himself. Or I would sell him the bare-bones version.

And yes, I was fully aware that he lacked the technical ability to tailor his own board. But when I explained that I simply did not have the time to do the work right now.

And unlike Hunter, Argo took it in stride. Yes, he would have loved to get an Mk. IV, but he accepted that it was just not possible right now.

After he left as well, I returned to looking into the various stimulants for the cell division. I had the interesting idea that it would also be useful for an emergency medkit. Something to keep the injured person alive, that would be taken over by the oxygen and nutrient transporting nanites, something that directed the growth-accelerating nanites to the injured place.

Maybe try to repair the telomeres? Making it so that that position would not age before its time?

Whatever, I would have to look into it when I had identified the optimal growth accelerator. And it would only work, reliable, with some control system in place. Either an auto-surgeon or an implant.

But that had time, as I was still going over the performance values of the various stimulants. The problem here was to differentiate between the performance of the ATP production, which depended heavily on nutrients and oxygen being available, and the stimulant itself. And I had at least another batch of growth accelerators to test.

It was, therefore unsurprising that I had barely scratched the surface when dinner-time arrived. We still had enough stew for a couple of days, and, without any prompting, we all sat together to eat.

It was, frankly, nice. I honestly couldn’t say if it was like a family, I’ve never experienced that after all, but it was just nice.

It had become standard to talk only about unimportant things during the meal. I couldn’t tell why, or even who started it, but as it made it easier to enjoy the good food, I was alright with it.

That left the other new convention, that we talked about more important matters after dinner.

Usually, this was a more brief discussion, but not that day.

Natalie opened it up:

“Hey guys, I have news. I’ve found a job for us.”

I was, at that point, mildly interested but nothing big.

Not the others. Darren instantly became thoughtful, Mark and Kate grinned in maniacal glee, and Christine leaned forward in clear interest.

Natalie on the other hand continued:

“As most of you know, I have contacted a few of the fixers here in NYC. Most are not that interested yet, we lack a bit of reputation for now. But one of them gave us a small job to prove our worth.

Awadah Diouri needs to have a corpo-asshole put into his place.

What we have is a mid-level office drone from Sandoval, named Christopher Yang, who has developed the uncomely habit to rough up the hookers he frequents. He put three into the hospital, and two actually into the morgue.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

As you can imagine, NYPD is not that interested to hold him responsible.

The pimps on the other hand are not too keen on driving away such a well-paying customer.

So the whores have pooled their resources to… let’s say make him stop. Permanently. We will get 20k for that. Not much but I think the valuable thing is the foot in the door here.”

Darren nodded slowly.

“Sounds interesting. What do we know? Does he have a biomon? PEES contract?”

“Yes and yes.”

Of course he had both. Sandoval might ‘only’ be a class B corp, but PEES contracts and biomonitors were cheap.

Mark then grimaced.

“That is… not good. If we geek him, the pigs will be on us as white on rice in no time. And with the biomon, they’ll know almost instantly. And with PEES, we will have to destroy the brain.

That will be messy.”

Natalie smiled.

“Yup, that would be the case. If the asshole did not have the bad habit of turning his biomon off when he… get’s his jollies. He will have a couple of bodyguards. Even a mid-level corp-rat has to be protected after all. But he will be out of contact tomorrow evening from 7 pm to 11 pm.”

Darren rubbed his chin.

“Bodyguards? That could be tricky. Do we know how they are equipped?”

“Standard low-profile body armor, a Ralcon Tempura in 5.6mm FNP each, com system and so on. Nothing out of the norm. Shieldwall standard equipment and training.”

Shieldwall was another clas B corp, specialized in the protection of facilities and personnel. That did not mean that they were above cracking a few skulls if nobody was looking. And as other corps were utterly uninterested in things like that, barely anybody was in the position of looking.

Honestly, I would prefer even Mob-enforcers to those thugs. Sure, the worst scum of the street gangs was worse, but that was like saying that the ocean was wetter than the lake.

In other words, it would be no great loss if two Shieldwall-thugs bought the farm.

The problem here was that they usually had a connection to their headquarters.

It was clear that Darren thought along the same lines.

“The body cams will be a problem. We will have to be very careful.”

I had to chuckle.

“Or, and that is just a wild idea, we could use a cyber attack to… hamper the reaction time. Most of you, if you wear masks it will be had to identify you. Just Kate… and Mark, you will need to hide your arm.”

Darren and Natalie turned their attention to me.

“You think you can shut down the connection?”

I shrugged.

“I can’t guarantee it, but the chance is pretty good. It depends on which facility they are connected to. If it is one of their better-protected ones, well, I will get into it but it is questionable that I manage it by tomorrow evening.”

Natalie consulted the tablet she had laying in front of her.

“They are based… one moment, ah yes, there, the corner of 16th Avenue and 40th street.”

I grimaced.

“You know I have no clue what that means, do you? I need to know what importance that base has.”

<16th and 40th is a third-tier facility. It has not been significantly upgraded since 2234. I can’t ascertain the quality of their software, but their hardware is limited.>

At the same time Warden gave me the information she had gleaned from the Matrix, Natalie answered me:

“It is a mostly insignificant outpost. They have not even a whole floor in the building.”

“Ok, that should be doable. I’ll look into it tonight.”

Darren nodded.

“Ok, that should help us immensely. Do we know where he will be exactly tomorrow evening?”

“He usually visits the 83rd around Manton street, 139th, and 141st. I have already found a good position for overwatch. We have to adapt where we strike to where exactly he will be.”

I cleared my throat.

“You know that Warden can very quickly create a simulation of that area, do you? You could train for it this evening and a large part of tomorrow.”

Christine giggled.

“You know, I’ve completely forgotten about that. Shit, that is actually nice. We don’t have to scout out the location and generate attention.”

Mark chuckled.

“Ok, so Nats is overwatch, as usual, Dar, I assume that you’ll hide Kate?”

Darren nodded, and Mark continued:

“I don’t think we need two snipers, but I would suggest that Christine is the spotter this time. I can get close with an assault rifle as backup in case there is trouble. Kate and Darren will take out the guards while Nats takes out the asshole. How do we get away from it?”

Christine tilted her head, and answered:

“I am sure I can steal a van.”

I frowned

“But we already have a van. Why not use that?”

The others except for Mia and Jacky all snorted, and Ryan answered me chuckling:

“They need a vehicle that is not connected to any of you. You especially. And the van is yours.”

I shrugged.

“So what? I can change the registry in the DMV.”

“I’m sure you can. But if something goes wrong they don’t want any chance of it pointing towards you.”

I can’t say that I understood the rationale, after all, if I scrubbed the database there would be nothing that could lead them to us, but apparently, all of them agreed, so I shrugged.

“If you say so.”

The mercs then began discussing the finer details of their job. I tried to follow them but I had frankly no clue about what exactly they were doing, and so my attention wandered for a bit.

Jacky looked equally confused as I felt but listened with clear interest, but Mia… well she looked displeased, and she threw a couple of dirty looks towards Justin, Ryan, and me.

Finally, after around 20 minutes the planning session was finished. I had lost the point way earlier, but I was not concerned about that. After all, I was not a merc and I would not be directly involved in the op.

But when they declared the planning finished, Mia exploded:

“You let them get away with it?”

All of us were mightily confused, and Mark was the one that voiced it:

“Let who get away with what?”

“Ryan, Justin, and Veronica.”

The venom when she said my alias resonated through me. What had I done to her to get her that angry? In my confusion, I did not react.

Darren on the other hand reacted:

“What is with them?”

“You all take this insane risk, and those three will sit safe and protected here. That is so unfair. Why don’t they help you?”

Kate growled:

“This is not their mission. Ryan and Justin are Walker’s men. They are not part of our little band. And Veronica, first she does help us. If she would not stop the connection to Shieldwall this would be much harder. And second, if you think she should come with us, why don’t you?”

Mia was not deterred though:

“Because unlike me, she is a criminal like you. So why can she sit here in the warmth while you risk your lives, huh?”

I had to shake my head.

“Because I am a hacker, not a shooter. They don’t want me along with the mission. I would not be an asset, I would be a liability. I can barely shoot, I have no armor, and I have no clue about how to behave on such a mission. Instead of me helping them, they would use their limited attention to keep me alive.”

When none of us made any sign of agreeing with her, she harumphed pointedly, crossed her arms in front of her, and visibly pouted.

Seriously, she got onto my nerves more and more. But with nothing else to talk about we stood up and began to do our work.