Stone Ridge Mountain—broadly, it referred to the coastal mountain ridges surrounding Night City; narrowly, it was a specific name for the barren, blocky hill range on the city's eastern outskirts.
Once, corporations had tried to build a self-sustaining zone in this area. Streets had already been marked, houses constructed—everything ready for workers to move in and begin operations. But before long, those corporations went bankrupt, and the entire plan was abandoned.
Now, the place had become a ghost town—a haven for Badlands drifters and outlaws.
When there was work, these people labored on construction sites; when there wasn't, they stole and smuggled to make ends meet. The phrase "day laborer by day, thief by night" fit them perfectly.
Work if you can—but even the proudest ones had to eat.
And whenever a chance came to rob a merchant caravan or ambush a fat corpo convoy, they never let it slip.
Corporate employees regarded such parasitic criminals and homeless drifters as nothing but trash heaps. Unless absolutely necessary, they ignored these places entirely. Even glancing at them felt like a waste of time.
And that—precisely—was why Maine chose this place as the safehouse for his team's netrunner group: Kiwi, Lucy, and their lookout and support, Rebecca.
With Panam's help and the Nomads' local knowledge of the Badlands, they had scouted the area around the ambush site, studied terrain, determined escape routes, and, a week before the mission, found a remote cave in Arasaka's surveillance blind spot. They'd cleaned it up, stocked supplies, and prepared to hide there if things went south.
After the hit, the netrunner trio drove their ride—a beat-up [Kaukaz Bratsk U4020] truck commonly seen in the Badlands—into the cave, brushed away tire tracks, camouflaged the entrance, and went silent on comms. They'd planned to stay holed up for ten days, maybe half a month, until the heat died down…
It had been a cautious plan—Maine was brave, but never reckless. As the team's big brother, he'd thought of almost everything.
By logic, the netrunner group, being farthest from the crash site and the fastest to evacuate, should've been the safest. They had the best chance to escape.
But reality was cruel—what hurts you most often comes from someone you once trusted.
Even an old friend.
When old comrades meet, sometimes there are tears—sometimes, bullets.
The cave was silent.
Dust drifted down from the rock ceiling, shaken loose by distant explosions. Inside the dim cavern, the old truck sat parked with its engine off and systems powered down. The crew had already disembarked.
"Are they going to kill us?"
Rebecca—beaten, bruised, her face swollen from the FIA agents' fists—struggled to lift her head. Her heterochromatic green-and-pink eyes burned with defiance.
"I don't know."
Lucy shook her head. Poor Maine—so unlucky with people, trusting the wrong ones. Her delicate face wore a bitter, helpless smile.
You can guard against outsiders all you want, but it's the betrayal from within that kills you.
She had overheard the entire exchange between Maine and Solomon Reed—the insults, the threats, the recruitment offer.
Who could've guessed that the one stealing their prize would be Maine's old war buddy? The man had clearly been watching them for a while, planning every step. How could you even describe that? Maine had thought he was dead—she'd seen him mourned with drinks more than once.
And his reasoning? "The homeland's interests above all else." The New United States'? Or Militech's?
What a noble slogan. Lucy almost laughed.
Clink.
An empty soda can dropped to the floor after being crushed flat.
"You folks really came prepared, huh? Planning to hunker down for the long haul? No wonder that old bastard Solomon wants to recruit you."
The voice belonged to a burly white man, middle-aged, his face broad and fleshy. The FIA squad leader—dressed in worn SovOil combat gear—plopped down heavily onto the dusty beanbag couch Lucy had set up earlier. One hand casually held an Arasaka [Masamune] rifle fitted with a suppressor, its muzzle pointed lazily toward the two captured girls on the ground. His eyes drifted toward the folding table, speaking with lazy amusement.
On and under the table sat piles of supplies—from emergency MaxDocs, health boosters, and oxygen enhancers, to crates of chocolate milk, XXL Burrito Pink, SynthSnack, Sojasil Second Impact, Sojasil Nitroglycerin, Moonchies Andromeda, Leelou Beans Lagoon, synthetic candies, kumquat sweet tea, mixed rice, Pop-Turd and Hawt Dawg—everything imaginable to eat and drink.
Drinks were especially abundant.
They had tents to keep dust out, sleeping bags, even a used game console, mini-fridge, and an ice maker.
It was clear Lucy and the others had prepared well for a long hideout. Unfortunately, it seemed their effort had ended up benefitting someone else.
"Our boss knows your boss. We can cooperate," Kiwi spoke up.
The tall, slender netrunner in a black compression suit sat on a folding chair, hands raised. Her sclera were a sickly yellow, irises a deep crimson—her cybernetic eyes fixed calmly on the FIA tech officer beside her. Her voice was steady, her expression neutral, carefully showing harmlessness and a willingness to cooperate.
To protect the group's lives, it had been Kiwi who led the FIA to their safehouse.
Beep-beep.
The FIA tech officer, immersed in a flurry of operations on his portable terminal, didn't react. Lines of code and ICE diagnostics flickered in his retinal HUD.
Moments later, he turned toward his superior—who was cracking open another bottle of stout with relish—and frowned.
"I've purged and reinitialized the temporary local comm net several times, but still can't reach Commander Solomon. No response from Agent Alex either."
"Leader Kerry, what do you think? We just sit here and wait? Until those Arasaka bastards leave?"
"What else?"
The man called Kerry downed the bottle in one long chug.
The bitter liquid flowed down his cyber-enhanced throat, quickly metabolized in his synthetic stomach—he couldn't even get drunk if he wanted to.
"Arasaka's soldiers and their light-heavy loadouts improve every damn year. You want us to go toe-to-toe with a rampaging Arasaka strike force? Go ahead and die if you want—I'm not joining you."
"Cut communications, maintain silence. If we can't reach Solomon, it's because he's either dead or running for his life. You heard that explosion earlier—hell of a racket."
Kerry wiped foam from his beard.
"Seems the goods are the real deal. Those Arasaka dogs must be under pressure from the top—panicking. Maybe this even came as a direct order from Vela Russell herself. Best we keep our heads down and not go sniffing for trouble."
"As long as we're not discovered," he added with a mocking grin, glancing at the supplies around him. "With our pal Maine's generous donation, I think we can survive just fine, don't you?"
"You bastard!"
Rebecca's eyes widened; she was about to spit curses, but Lucy's sharp glance stopped her cold.
Kerry noticed the exchange and shrugged lazily.
He didn't know the full background of the ambush incident, but he wasn't worried about the three girls. They were no threat.
After all, just attacking an Arasaka executive was enough to get them killed a thousand times over. They wouldn't dare expose themselves—or Maine. That gave the FIA plenty of room to meddle. If necessary, like Solomon's last 'invitation,' they could always flip Maine's crew into assets—double agents. The NUSA had done worse before.
Of course, all of that depended on staying alive.
If their cover was blown, they'd all die together.
"Play it safe, then?"
The tech officer, still carefully monitoring comms, turned his head.
"For now."
Kerry rose and walked toward Kiwi, studying the blonde, short-haired netrunner with a confident smile. "Waiting too long's the same as dying—you know that, beautiful. I accept your offer. So—what kind of cooperation did you have in mind?"
"..."
Lowering her hands, Kiwi thought for a moment. Her voice was calm, emotionless: "Do I really need to explain? Do we even have a choice? That Solomon Reed isn't letting Maine go."
Clap, clap.
"Smart woman. I like that."
Kerry clapped his hands. The tech officer removed the limiter connected to Kiwi's neural port. "We've got a common enemy, so it's only right we stick together. Lady, I assume you've got detection devices set up around this safehouse? No point hiding them now."
"Of course."
Kiwi walked to the folding table and unfolded her wired portable terminal. Orange data streams flickered in her eyes as she appeared to link up with the detection network.
Seeing this, Kerry motioned for his agents to lower their weapons.
One of them stepped forward and pulled the limiter from Lucy's neural port, freeing her restraints. Rebecca, however, was moved aside.
No words were needed—everyone knew what that meant. A hostage.
As Kiwi continued operating her portable terminal, activating the perimeter detection and camouflage systems, she suddenly froze.
Lucy, who knew her mentor's habits well, immediately sensed something was wrong.
"What is it—" Kerry narrowed his eyes, hand gripping his pistol, voice half-formed.
Too late.
Kiwi's lips curled into a faint, complicated smile—half relief, half dread.
"Arasaka's here."
BOOM!!!
The cave entrance exploded. The layered wooden-and-stone barricade shattered under the blast.
Smoke and dust surged inward. In Lucy's wide-eyed stare, several pairs of crimson optics gleamed under the signature winged Arasaka helmets. A squad of heavily armed exoskeleton troopers stormed the cave.
"Shit!!"
Kerry lost his composure.
Almost instantly, gunfire erupted from both sides—each fighting for their own cause. The confined cave turned into a storm of bullets and explosions. Gunfire roared, grenades detonated, muzzle flashes painted the walls in chaos.
Glass bottles shattered. Food and drink exploded across the table—beer, tea, and blood splattered together.
"Shoot! If you want to live—fight!!" Kerry roared.
The tech officer shifted his focus from the netrunners to the attackers, diving into full net combat—trying desperately to hack or jam the Arasaka troopers' systems.
Kiwi, diving behind the truck, narrowed her pupils. She was about to jack in—when beep-beep—a message popped up.
[Lucy: Kiwi, if you trust me, don't attack Arasaka. Hack the FIA bastards instead.]
[Kiwi: ??]
Though confused, Kiwi chose to believe her. There was no time for questions—no better option.
Boom! The explosion's shockwave rattled the cave. Crouched behind a stack of supply crates, Lucy gritted her teeth.
They were trapped—Arasaka's troops outside, FIA agents inside. No way out.
There was only one chance left—to make sure Arasaka didn't mistake them for NUSA spies, to save Kiwi and Rebecca.
Her mind made up, Lucy took a deep breath and shouted at the top of her lungs:
"Arasaka! I'm Lucyna Kushinada! Save me! I'm the daughter of Takeshi Kushinada, Security Systems Director of Arasaka Tower's Warsaw Branch in Europe!!"