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Chapter 533: David’s New Job
Leo wasn't entirely sure what Tony's personal assistant wanted, but he had a more urgent matter to deal with:
NetWatch had commissioned David to investigate the agent they had tracked in the Badlands. That needed to be handled immediately.
David's truck had already been disabled during the very first stage of Extreme Metal. He had still been around thirty kilometers from Night City when the sandstorm hit, so they had probably holed up in some abandoned structure on the spot.
That meant they were most likely still out in the Badlands, which was exactly why Bryce had suggested NetWatch hire David. In a sense, they already knew what kind of people they were dealing with. And among mercs, David's crew had already gained a bit of a reputation. At least they weren't fresh-faced rookies anymore.
The Badlands were quite far from the nuclear detonation site. The intense electromagnetic pulse had weakened considerably over distance, leaving only the geomagnetic disturbances caused by high-energy particle streams. Those effects were further dampened by the ever-present dust storms of the Badlands.
In other words, David's group had barely been affected by the EMP at all.
From their perspective, Night City had suddenly sprouted a giant fireball, and then the entire city had gone dark—
This time, truly the entire city.
Every line of communication with the city vanished. The Net was reduced to faint static, interference generated by wind-driven pebbles scraping together and building up static electricity.
On a highway outside the Badlands, two Mackinaws rattled forward like tractors, shaking violently.
They were moving so slowly that pedaling a tricycle would probably have been faster.
"That one's good!"
Pilar wore a scanning visor while inspecting the battlefield wreckage. His elongated cyberlimbs stretched out like an ape's arms as he picked up fragments of discarded weapons from the road.
Honestly, if you had enough guts, scavenging tonight could make you rich.
Pilar looked at the acceleration rail from an Achilles Tech Rifle core and thought:
That alone would sell for fifty eddies once repaired.
Rebecca smacked her brother on the head.
Her oversized cyberarm grabbed a wheel off the ground—
Then removed the brake disc attached to it.
Carbon ceramic material.
Manageable damage.
Way more valuable than whatever Pilar had picked up.
David mentally calculated the value of all the scrap they had collected, excitement bubbling inside him.
Nobody ever said scavenging paid this well.
"Quit smiling!"
Lucy bonked David on the head.
"Does all that junk even cover the repair bill?"
David answered guiltily,
"Probably... maybe a little profit if we get lucky... maybe."
Honestly, as mercs, their team's finances were actually in pretty good shape.
They had been progressing incredibly fast.
Just a few months ago, only Maine had owned a second-hand sports car.
As for weapons, there were hardly any quality guns—mostly Lexingtons and Liberties.
Cyberware had been even worse.
Other than Maine's combat implants, nobody had much of anything.
And even Maine's combat cyberware had been running pirated firmware that could malfunction at any moment. Even standby mode wasn't trustworthy.
Now they had two Mackinaws capable of withstanding heavy machine-gun fire, plus an actual heavy machine gun.
Maine's cyberware no longer suffered constant pain spikes.
His neural inflammation had noticeably subsided.
Sure, he had lost his Projectile Launch System, but his head was a lot clearer.
David could now use the Dynalar Sandevistan Mk.3 in his spine almost freely.
The team suddenly had far more tactical options.
Back then, every fight basically involved Maine and Dorio charging in first.
If things went badly, they fired off a Projectile Launch System round.
Everyone else supported from the sidelines.
Now things were different.
Vehicles.
High-grade cyberware.
Heavy weapons.
They had everything.
Of course, first they had to repair the trucks.
Clank-clank-clank-clank-clank—
"Don't worry."
David grinned.
"I really think we're close now. Just one more job…"
[Bzzzt—]
The team's two netrunners, Kiwi and Lucy, simultaneously received a communication request.
The signal was incredibly strong.
And completely unhidden.
[NetWatch Communication. You have been identified by NetWatch. Please refrain from taking aggressive action.]
That single line instantly killed the lively atmosphere.
Leo could joke and laugh with corporations.
That didn't mean they could.
Every word spoken by a corporation, every data packet, was something they had to treat carefully.
Both netrunners immediately tensed up.
Because they realized—
Their wireless cybermodems were heating up.
NetWatch possessed communication technologies that most independent netrunners simply couldn't deal with.
And independent netrunners knew it.
Most wireless intrusions depended on information asymmetry.
I know the vulnerability in your software or hardware, therefore I exploit it.
Daemons were their tools.
The more systems a netrunner had cracked before, the broader and stronger their attack capabilities became.
Netrunning was fundamentally a profession that heavily rewarded knowledge and technical skill.
At the core of it all, everyone's hardware wasn't all that different—
Compared to corporations.
NetWatch, however, possessed the most comprehensive databases and the smartest biological brains available.
More importantly, they often operated through sheer dimensional superiority.
Certain high-powered directional transmitters could physically burn out a freelance netrunner's equipment without requiring any actual cyberspace battle.
Most of the time, military-grade hardware crushed street-grade hardware on a completely different level.
No street runner was willing to gamble on whether corporate hardware had reached that level or not.
Everyone started sweating.
The two Mackinaws continued crawling along the highway like tractors as they waited for more information to appear in their HUDs.
[...]
[We are pursuing a special individual named Peter Fieldheimer. He should currently be somewhere in the Badlands.]
[Locate him and bring him to the NetWatch office.]
[Contract payment: 100,000 eurodollars.]
Just as nobody could decide what to do, another line appeared beneath the message.
[Take the job. Tell them you need a new vehicle and need an intermediary.]
David instantly recognized the familiar touch.
That was the boss.
Even though he had no idea how Leo had managed to slip them a message under NetWatch's nose, David immediately understood the direction.
[David: We don't work directly with corps. Let us borrow your channel. I need to bring in an intermediary.]
[NetWatch: Not this time.]
**[David: We need gear, we need vehicles, we need weapons. If you can deliver all of that yourself, then fine.
I can guarantee confidentiality, but we need someone to handle logistics. El Capitan in Santo Domingo—you know who that is.
If we use your channel, you don't have to worry about leaks, right?]**
[NetWatch: We'll be watching you. Remember: confidentiality.]
[Relay communication channel opened.]
[Do the job well. I want to know exactly what information Peter Fieldheimer possesses. Consider the vehicle and equipment part of your compensation.]
David had no way to reply to Leo directly.
So he just nodded furiously.
Lucy sweated even harder beside him.
"David... do you realize people who take jobs like this usually don't end well?"
"People say mercs never end well either, but I dropped out and became one anyway.
Besides, once we finish this job, we'll be one step closer to our goal.
Don't worry, I—"
David looked confidently up at the sky.
The Moon.
One day, he was getting there.