Chapter 43: Goddammit, Pilar, You Jinxed Us!
At the base of the trash heap, two men armed with SMGs blocked the road, forcing the cars to stop. They stood on a ridge carved out of the compacted garbage, one man holding up a hand, signaling them to halt.
Jackie braked. Rhys got out, glancing ahead. Maine was already out of his car, talking to the two men. He turned and waved Rhys over. Rhys, along with the occupants of his car, walked up just in time to hear Maine.
"... Babs sent us. Said he had a shipment here that needed transport. That right?"
"Name of your contact?" one of the men demanded.
"Leon Rinder. He gave us this location, told us to get here ASAP. Said there'd be big trouble if we waited past today," Maine replied quickly.
Rhys scanned the two men with his optics. Interestingly, the NCPD database actually had files on them.
[Name: Adam Jackman]
[Affiliation: Aldecaldo]
[Implants: Synthetic Lungs, Mobility System, Reinforced Tendons...]
[Criminal Record: Smuggling, Unlawful Imprisonment...]
[Name: Marlon Scriff]
[Affiliation: Aldecaldo]
[Implants: Basic Kiroshi Optics, External Port, Flexible Joints...]
[Criminal Record: Smuggling, Robbery...]
Both Aldecaldos had minor implants, likely combat personnel for their family.
"You picked a hell of a time to show up. Fine, follow me," Adam said. He nodded to his companion. "Marlon, keep watch. Contact me if anything happens."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. We're on our own turf. Stop being so paranoid, will ya?" Marlon grumbled.
Adam ignored him and turned, leading the way.
Maine's crew followed him into the heart of the Nomad encampment. Rhys saw dozens of tents, makeshift structures, and a large number of Aldecaldos—maybe around a hundred people—milling about, armed and equipped with various scavenged tech. What really caught his eye, though, was a large, sectioned-off area covered in gray-white tarps. Greenhouses, maybe? So that's how the Nomads grew vegetables?
"Keep your eyes to yourself," Adam warned, noticing Rhys staring.
Jackie bristled. "Tsk. Who the hell are you—"
Maine clamped a hand on Jackie's shoulder, stopping him. Jackie turned, and Maine gave him a slight shake of his head. He didn't want trouble. The quicker they finished this gig, the better. Being out in the Badlands was always risky; conflict could erupt at any moment. Ironically, Maine, the chrome-obsessed leader, got chromed-up primarily to protect his crew, not for the thrill of the fight. Deep down, he was the most level-headed one among them.
He shot Rhys a look. Rhys just offered a small smile. He wasn't easily provoked. He wasn't V, after all, ready to draw steel over a sideways glance.
"Come on, this way," Adam said, turning down a path. He pointed towards a raised platform where a skinny man was watching them approach.
"Finally," the man called out, climbing down. "Been waiting for you. Babs' last crew? Real unlucky. Got snatched by the Wraiths. Shouldn't have been driving blind out here, thought they were still in the city. Drove right into a dust storm, got lost, ended up in Wraith territory."
"Anyway, I'm Leon, your contact. Which one of you is Rhys?"
Rhys stepped forward. "That's me. What's up?"
"What's up? You're here to pick up the goods! What else?" Leon said impatiently. "Need two more guys. You'll have to carry the stuff down yourselves."
Maine and Jackie immediately moved to stand beside Rhys.
Leon gave them a once-over, then turned and led them up onto the platform. He pulled back a gray tarp, revealing three large, insulated containers. They looked like the makeshift "cryo-coolers" broke netrunners used for external system cooling. They were grimly nicknamed "ice coffins" on the street, both because they were frequently used by Scavs and Wraiths to transport harvested organs, and because many netrunners were found dead inside them after frying their brains.
"These three. Carry 'em down, get 'em back to the city, drop 'em at the designated spot. Job done. Easy, right?" Leon said. He bent down, picked up a burlap sack, and placed it on top of one of the containers. "And this. A little gift from the Aldecaldos. This is yours. The stuff in the boxes? I don't want a single leaf missing. Understand?"
Rhys peered into the sack. He could see small, round, cabbage-like vegetables—Brussels sprouts, maybe? A North American specialty he'd read about in a datashard, supposedly a springtime delicacy. There were also some celery stalks, basil... a decent amount.
Leon urged them on. "Babs is a perfectionist. He doesn't want anyone messing with his merchandise. This job is dead simple. I don't want any variables. You guys are professionals, right?"
"We got it," Maine nodded, clapping Rhys on the shoulder.
Rhys took the sack from Leon and then effortlessly lifted one of the heavy containers with a single hand. Leon stared, dumbfounded.
"Damn, choom! You're strong!" Leon exclaimed, genuinely surprised. The container was packed full of vegetables, plus the weight of the "ice coffin" itself easily brought it close to 150 kilos. And Rhys had just picked it up with one hand?
Jackie and Maine each hefted a container. Leon called Adam back over.
"Alright, take the goods and get out of here," Adam instructed.
They loaded the containers into the cars. Maine's and Pilar's vehicles had enough trunk space, but the car Jackie had borrowed didn't. After a brief discussion, they strapped the third container to the roof, the weight causing the metal to visibly buckle.
The crew drove away from the Aldecaldo camp. After about fifteen minutes, they were back on the main Badlands highway, heading towards Night City.
Maine's voice came over the comms, still tinged with disbelief. "That's... it? Job's done?"
Lucy, in the back of Jackie's car, looked even more skeptical, her eyes filled with suspicion. Seriously? A simple pickup and delivery gig pays this much? Five thousand eddies would have had plenty of mercs lining up for this run, even with the Badlands risk. And her cut... eight thousand eddies! For basically doing nothing? Kiwi could have handled the intel gathering easily. Lucy felt a surge of unexpected delight. Easy money, who wouldn't be happy?
Pilar: "Just luck, I guess. Didn't you hear Leon? The last crew got wiped out."
Pilar: "Still feels weird though. Our luck is usually shit. Remember that data heist? Ended up getting tangled with a mega-corp..."
Pilar never finished his sentence.
The roar of engines from the ridge ahead cut him off.
Behind them, a pickup truck equipped with a light machine gun burst out from the desert scrub, ramming into Pilar's car.
CRASH!
The sound of impact reverberated. Rhys instantly unbuckled his seatbelt and looked back. Pilar's car had been knocked clean off the highway. His panicked screams filled the comms channel.
"Turn around! Back up Pilar!" Maine ordered instantly. "Rhys!"
Rhys kicked open his door and scrambled onto the roof, hooking his feet under the ropes securing the container. He drew his katana, bracing himself against the wind as the car swerved. His black hair whipped around his face as his optics scanned the scene.
"Four vehicles, Maine!"
Maine cursed. "Goddammit, Pilar! You and your fucking jinx!"
"Look what you did!"
Pilar: "How is this my fault?!" He wrestled his car back onto the highway, only to find himself boxed in by two pickups. Figures in blue and black leather, faces hidden behind masks, raised their weapons. The LMG swiveled towards him.
In the next second, DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA! Bullets tore through the air, kicking up clouds of dust and stone from the desert floor. Pilar slammed on the brakes, the sudden deceleration causing the initial burst to fly over his car.
Jackie, meanwhile, executed a sharp drift turn, tires screaming in protest. With a snarl, he floored the accelerator, aiming straight for one of the attacking pickups.
"Sorry, mano," he muttered grimly. "I'll pay you back for the car!"
CRUNCH!
The two vehicles collided head-on at high speed, crumpling like paper. The attacking pickup was forced to a halt.
As the dazed occupants tried to reorient themselves, a figure landed on their windshield.
He raised his arm, then brought it down in a swift, burning arc.
A flash of black and red.
Rhys struck.