Edge City Chronicles 10

"As long as you aren't after the vials, I don't really care," he said dismissively. 

"Haven't seen them, and you're welcome to look, not that I could stop you," I said with a shrug. 

"You're pretty big, but no chrome or nano," he said, eyeing me. "Ever think about signing up for Dao?" 

"Not really," I said, shaking my head. "I'm still just trying to get my bearings." 

"Riiight," he said, looking around at the precision with which I had cleared the Scav hideout. "You free for some work?" 

"Always," I said quickly. 

"I'm number thirteen, by the way," the man said, poking at one of the Scav corpses. "Clean shot there. We all have handles we go by and mine's Aces Lucky, but most people just call me Aces. I came to Edge City chasing a man that stole that case I mentioned; it's got an experimental nanotech drug in. Can't say much more than that. Apparently, the idiot either sold it to the gang the Hell Cats, or he sold it to Scavs. The Hell Cat's internal net doesn't have shit about a valuable drug coming in, and they chat shit about everything. They have reams of notes on every time someone smokes a cig, so I'm working off the idea that the Scavs have it. I need to secure that case before they ship it across the Western Ocean and I have to get on a damn tanker to chase it." 

"Right, well, what can I do?" I asked as I quickly looted the room, taking all the guns, any electronics that looked to have value, and quickly tossing the place for cred sticks. 

The man followed me back into the main area and answered, "I don't have enough time to hit twenty fucking Scav dens. I need people to split the work with. I have nine more locations I need to hit that I'm reasonably sure are Scav dens, then I need to keep chasing the thief as well. Can you handle five more dens like this?" 

"Five isn't a problem," I said as I continued to loot before stopping and turning to the man. "Wait, do you need them all done today?" 

"I would prefer it," he said lazily, sticking his head in the other rooms to scan them. "If not, I need all five done before tomorrow night." 

"Shit, well, I can do it. I need to quickly sell this shit and get a better gun," I said. 

"You need a better everything," I heard Aces mutter as he checked the last room.  

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, piling my loot up on the folding table the Scavs had left in the middle of the big main room.  

"It's true," he said with a shrug, watching me strip the place to the studs. 

"You got an amount you're paying for this work?" I asked, figuring it wouldn't hurt to see what someone like him could run out. 

"Eh, I'll give you two thousand a den, plus salvage on them all," he said, seeming disinterested in talking about the money. I almost stumbled as I was looting at the offhanded way he offered me ten grand, which is what five dens would equal, but then I remembered this guy was supposedly as powerful as an entire army and worked for a company that had more money than God. Ten G's wasn't going to be anything to make him sweat. 

"That's a deal," I quickly snapped out, hurrying to finish my looting. I had to turn my job into Mercer still, then I had five dens to clear as fast as I could fight through them and I was going to need to prepare for that.  

"Here's my deets. Contact me if you find that case or any of the vials," Aces said. He turned away and then dug his right foot into the ground, literally cracking apart the concrete before he shot off down the hallway, smashing through the Scav barricade and disappearing in little more than a blur. In my old world, that was the stuff of comic books and old legends, but I had just watched a person move so fast than my enhanced eyes couldn't even track them while smashing apart an admittedly shitty barricade without slowing down. 

"Guess it's time to get to work," I muttered, finishing stripping the place down before taking note of all the kills and heading out. I sent a message to the police as I slipped out of the building and back onto the street, hopping on the subway as I heard a distant siren starting to wail. 

I walked into Mercer's area to several odd looks, but I ignored them as I reported back to the surly old man, "Job's done." 

He glanced through my packet before asking, "Ready for the next one? And the hell's with all that gear?" 

"Blew out another damn Scav den," I grunted. "Came straight back here. But I've got another job now, so can't do any more deliveries today or tomorrow." 

"You find another Fixer in that Scav den?" Mercer asked sarcastically. 

"No, but I did run into a Failsafe that offered me a ludicrous amount of credits for an easy job," I answered nonchalantly. 

"Fuckin' hell," Mercer snarled, coughing as he spit out some of his drink. "Warn a fella next time." 

"I just did," I said innocently, misinterpreting his meaning.  

"Just be careful of them," Mercer said, wiping his mouth. "Ruthless bastards don't give two shits about anything but getting their mission done. You don't know which one it is?" 

"Aces Lucky?" I said, checking the name on my contact list. 

"Crazy strong," Mercer said. "They say he's ranked number thirteen out of all the Failsafes because he likes the number, not because that's how strong he is. Just be careful." 

"Got it," I said, grabbing all the shit I had pulled out of the Scav den and walking back to the subway with it. I had two crates and three bags of stuff, all hanging off me at various angles, though I still had easy access to my weapons. I got even more looks riding public transit like that, but I didn't really care, stopping at my apartment to drop off the bags before heading back out and down to Don's place with the two crates. I slipped in through the noodle shop, giving the scary daughter a nod as I passed through. I thumped down Don's stairs and knocked on the cage door, getting the man's attention. 

"Kiddo?" he asked, rolling over to pop the door open. 

"More Scav junk," I grunted. "Found another small den and cleaned it. Got a job to clean a couple more over the next two days, so expect more of the same." 

"Alright, kid, let me see it," Don said, wheeling back into the center of the room. I set the crates down and popped the lids before stepping back and watching him pull the chrome out, piece by piece, and exam it all. I was no expert, but nothing jumped out at me as being of any particular value, most of it looking like standard implants or very simple synthetic muscle and bone. Don was thorough with his examination, but the man really knew his stuff, and he was done in only about fifteen minutes. 

"Good news or bad news first?" Don asked as he wheeled over to his desk. 

"I'm a bad news first guy, Doc," I said.  

"Well, bad news is that none of this is premium," Don said as he leaned back against his desk, resting his right elbow on the desk top. "Nothing in there is a really solid piece of chrome; don't get me wrong, some of it is decent enough for your everyday civilian just walking the streets, but nothing great." 

"Okay, doesn't seem that bad, but I get you," I said, leaning against the wall. "What's the good news?" 

"While none of this stuff is preem, it is solid, like I said," Don replied. "Worth more than the last lot you brought in. I can't go too crazy, but I'll buy it all for three-fifty. How 'bout that?" 

"Deal," I said with a nod. Then, shrugging, I said, "Doesn't really bother me too much. I need the money, of course, but I know I'm not going to be making top dollar on a small Scav den. And I know you'll use the stuff to help people that need it, Doc, so it's fine." 

"Appreciate it," Don said, eyes flashing blue for a second as he sent me the creds. "Be careful out there, and if you need chrome, let me know early. I have plenty of sources I can reach out to, but I can't get stuff just by snappin' my fingers." 

"Two things," I said, straightening from the wall. 

"I'm all ears," Doc said. 

"First, I need some more meds. Haven't had to use any yet, but I got a job to clear another couple dens, and the client wants it done quick, as in, next two days quick," I said. 

"Whew," Don whistled. "That's a tight timeline, especially for a new Solo. No offense, but you're not exactly somebody with a big rep or a known quantity in the insider circles." 

"Eh, it's Scavs. I know not to ever totally underestimate an enemy, but I really haven't been impressed so far. Either way, I have some dens to clear and with that thought, I need some meds to help," I said. 

"I got some more here," Don said, wheeling over to a shelf and sorting through a couple boxes. He wheeled into the back area, still part of the main room but behind some dividers, a part of the area where patients could recover out of sight and he also kept two more shelves of storage. He rooted around back there for a minute before kicking his chair back out and walking out behind it, stepping over to me and handing me five items. "Here." 

"What are these ones?" I asked, scanning them all. 

"Another of the blood clotting ones, two that can help with extensive tissue damage, two that can help quickly restore lost blood and give you a boot of a CNS boost," Don explained. 

"Central Nervous System?" I clarified. 

"Just that. Mix of a small amount of adrenaline and two other things, think they're both nanotech in that one. You get hurt real bad, like a bullet through the torso that doesn't just kill you right away, jam one of each into part of your torso that's still fine and then get here ASAP," Done explained. 

I put all the injectors in my tactical rig, where the first injector he'd given me was. "What's the damage, Doc?" 

"Fifty creds," he said. 

"Woof, expensive meds," I said. 

"Not compared to even some of the other stuff I've got," Don said with a shrug, sitting on his stool again. "That stuff's within your budget and it works pretty well. Once you're making a couple grand a job, then you can get some of the other stuff. Besides, that stuff will heal you well without stressing your system; some of the other goodies out there are taxing and it's best to either have chrome or biomods or nanotech before diving into them." 

"That brings me to number two," I said. 

"That's right, you said there was more than one thing." 

"Right. I want to start on some biomods or nanotech to boost myself. Nothing crazy, but I want something to reinforce my bones and to increase my cardiovascular health and regeneration," I said. 

"I can get both for you, but we're talking some real money," Don warned. "A couple crates here, couple crates there, it adds up, but not to this kind of money." 

"How much for what you're thinking of ordering?" I asked. 

"Well, it would be about four grand for both," he said, rubbing his chin. "I can maybe try to find something cheaper…" 

"No, get the good stuff," I said, shaking my head. "I don't want cheap even while I still have my meat. The person paying for the Scav dens is going to throw me a few grand for a clearing bonus, so I should have more than enough after hitting them all. Especially if I do keep going crate-by-crate as well, since they said they don't care about the salvage or bounties." 

"Right, I'll order the stuff, but it's gonna take me at least a few days if not a week to get it in," Don said, wheeling over to his desk and waking up the computer he had there. "Don't expect it before this rush job you're working is over." 

"That's fine," I said, turning and walking to the door. "And speaking of the rush job, I gotta go sell the guns the Scavs had, buy ammo and a decent rifle, and get back to work." 

"Stay safe out there, kiddo," Don said as I walked out, already absorbed in his work. 

I quickly moved back through the noodle shop, not bothering to stop for a meal today, and headed out to the subway. I made my way back to my apartment, grabbing the guns and taking them down to the gun shop in Applewood, where the owner bought them, though he definitely undercut me. I didn't really care, as the creds were just a nice bonus, and I bought another box of nine mil ammo and a few more flashbangs before looking over his long guns. I didn't want anything too crazy, but a sleek model with a good foregrip called to me, and I took it off the rack and inspected it before testing the grip and positioning. Satisfied that it would work for what I needed, I took it over to the owner, who told me it was an older model of tech two rifle that fired in five-five-six and had a list of ammo options as long as my arm. I bought a half dozen thirty-round magazines and four boxes of P+ ammo with steel jackets; the bullets would leave the barrel with a higher velocity and had more stopping power with the jackets than a copper round would impart. 

The gun and ammo cost me three hundred and fifty creds, which really made me feel like the bastard was totally ripping me off. I knew the shit I was bringing him was some scop from Scavs, but he was paying me pennies on the dollar for it. Maybe I would look for a different dealer who'd be willing to buy for a bit more, but that just reminded me I needed to make more and better connections in the city. I returned to my apartment and loaded the mags with the new ammo, able to do it quickly while browsing on my agent; repacking mags was such old hat for me I didn't even think about it. I tested several of the mags just to make sure they fit and I could quick-swap them without issues before slotting them in empty pockets in my rig and preparing to head out. The rifle had a sling strap, and I used that to wear it while being able to let my hands free if I needed them. 

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