Edge City Chronicles 08

The men carried the unconscious person, who I was just thinking of as the victim, down to B5, where they noisily banged their way out of the stairwell and into corridor. With the amount of noise they were making, it was pretty clear they weren't really scared of alerting anybody down here, and it was also super easy to follow the fools from only a short distance away. Even given that I was still settling into this new body, and that I was practically a giant, the two remained entirely oblivious to my presence all the way to their destination. I wasn't even trying that hard, nor had I been particularly good with stealth in my last life, though I was a bit better than just a random slob off the street. In either case, these guys weren't even aware that I was less than twenty steps behind them when they entered an old tool shop, or that's what the faded sign called it. I slid up to the wall next to the door, hearing them clank and bang around for a minute before they went quiet again. 

After another thirty seconds, I could hear several people talking in the room, though I wasn't exactly sure what they were saying. When one of them rather loudly said something about just killing the person, assumably referring to the victim, I decided that that was enough. I would breach, take an assessment of what was happening in the room, and then either talk my way out, or clean up. I drew the pistol in my right hand the knife in my left, thumbing off the safety of the pistol before lining up on the door. I wasn't going to shoot the door, as that wouldn't do much, especially considering the door was metal and my gun was still basically a peashooter, and I really doubted these guys even latched the door, much less locked it. I stepped forward and simply opened the door with my left hand, preferring to keep the hand holding the gun free of any other activity.  

The rubes inside the first of what looked like several rooms where so oblivious that they didn't even notice me open the door and walk in until after I had had several seconds to scan the room. The very last tiny, lingering little doubts of whether these were bad dudes vanished like morning dew in the noonday sun when I observed the first room. The man they had carried in was strapped to a ripperdoc chair, though one in much worse shape than Don's, and it looked like they were getting ready to cut him apart. I doubt that was a sponsored procedure that he wanted, which meant these guys were Scavs, filthy bastards that ripped people's chrome out and resold it on the black market. I didn't have anything personally against Scavs, but I didn't have any good feelings for them, either, and was more than happy to clean up a bit of trash, especially if it would get my a few creds. 

Before the Scavs could do more than open their mouths I moved, darting forward and slashing open the Scav on the left's throat with a quick flick of my knife. At the same instant, I drew on the middle Scav and popped a shot into his forehead, the report of the gun echoing loudly in the small space. That alerted people in the other rooms, if the shouting was any indicator, but I calmly continued my movements, popping the third Scav in the head, dropping him quickly and efficiently. I didn't stop there, as I had heard people shouting just a moment ago and was keen to not be jumped or shot through a wall. I moved through the opening at the back of the makeshift operating room, the wall having been partially and sloppily demolished, finding myself in some kind of living room. There was a man just drawing a bead on me with a shotgun, which I quickly stopped with two rounds to his chest. None of these guys had any armor, it appeared none of them had any subdermal, and they had very little chrome beyond the same absolute basics I had. There were two others in the room, one wearing some kind of thin headset that looked like it had force him unconscious, maybe some kind of VR thing, and another live one trying to wake the guy with the headset up. I put a stop to that with three more rounds, spinning the live one with the first shot, dosing him with a second in the heart for good measure, and then popping sleeping beauty right in the back of the head for good measure. Luckily, none of these losers had armored heads, which was something I was certainly going to have to look out for in the future, and the nine mil I was using was weak enough that the rounds had trouble punching out the other side after they entered the skull.  

I made sure the six men were all dead, especially since the aforementioned weakness of the rounds and gun could mean a shot didn't really penetrate all that well. While it was rare, people could live through getting shot with a nine millimeter or other small caliber bullets, even when the shot penetrated their skull. My skills were still in top shape, however, as all six were now DOA, and I checked to make sure they hadn't flatlined the poor sap they had brought in. The guy was still breathing, though also still very much unconscious, which was a mercy in several ways. I had a couple things I had to do, though I assumed I had at least a little time, even if these guys had called for reinforcements. Considering how fast I had popped all six, to the point where several of them hadn't even realized they were being raided before they died, I wasn't that worried about it, but it was possible. I scanned through the place first, finding two more rooms connected to their makeshift hideout, neither of which had any people hiding within. 

With the place secured, or relatively so, I had three tasks. One, I needed to register the bounties on the guys, which I would have to do manually, and by that I meant take picture and identifying information and transmit it to ECPD. I would do the last part, the send function, after everything else, since I didn't want the cops interfering in the other two parts. One of those parts, the one I was selfishly more concerned with, was scooping up all the loot I could. The other was making sure the poor slob they kidnapped, and anybody else that might still be in the truck, got some kind of medical service called for them, however that worked in this world. But, again, I was selfish, so taking pictures and scans of the Scavs came first, looting came second, and helping the bystanders came third, especially since the victim really seemed like they were just sedated with something strong and not in any danger of a quick death.  

The pictures and identifying information was tedious, but I finished in about ten minutes, organizing the data to transmit while I started looting. I wasn't really concerned about getting in trouble for blasting these guys, as everyone universally hated Scavs, with the police hating them most of all; again, it was a lot more about stripping the place bare before anyone else could interfere. I found four of a kind of foldable crate, with two of them being unfolded and partially filled with the Scavs' ill-gotten gains. More specifically, these guys had clearly harvested from several people, the undesirable parts of which I found in a freezer in the operating room, not a pleasant experience, and they hadn't had enough to sell or transfer or whatever they did. There were two old, shitty computer terminals in the room, the kind that had enough power to do all the basic functions but were ubiquitous enough that they were trying to haul out of a place, and I tried to access them only to find I was blocked by their simple security. The Scavs, unfortunately, weren't stupid enough to do the old 'note with password on it under the keyboard' trick or anything like it, so I just lamented my lack of netrunning skills for a brief second before moving on.  

I unfolded a third crate and had, in short order, gotten everything of any value packed in the half-filled crate and the third, formerly empty one. That included the handful of guns, none of which were anything more than Tech 1, several knives, a couple pieces of chrome that hadn't been packed, and two of the headsets the guy had been wearing, including his. I didn't know what the headsets were, exactly, but they smelled like money to me; hell, I could likely pawn them for at least a few credits each, and I was definitely still at the stage where beggars can't be choosers. With the bounties ready to transmit, and my loot secure, I did a second check on the victim, finding that nothing much had changed. I found I couldn't call out, which wasn't something that greatly surprised me, though I couldn't tell how the rooms were being jammed. Shrugging, I picked up my three crates of loot and left, using the stairs to climb up to B3 before walking over to the truck. I moved naturally, like I had every right to be there and doing what I was doing, which was mainly just for anyone that happened to walk by down here, but I saw no one. Checking the gonks truck, I found a credit stick in the front and another victim in the back, this one also still alive and heavily sedated. I would normally try to claim the truck, but I felt it would be a big pain in the ass to do it, and the only Fixer I could work with on it was Mercer, who was taking the day off. I decided I'd just chalk it up to a loss, since I was just starting out and didn't have a good support network.  

I took some pictures of the truck and other victim, just in case, and then grabbed my boxes and left. I waited until I was up into the megabuilding before giving ECPD the info, using their convenient form to report a Scav incident. Yes, apparently it was a common enough thing that they had a section of their site to fill out just for Scav encounters, with it tailored specifically for Solos and Mercs to report clearing the bastards out. I submitted my information, including flagging that there were still living victims, which got it high priority, before entering my apartment. I dropped the boxes off in the room of this body's mother, not really having even an echo of an attachment to a dead woman I had never met. I would need to go through everything, but first I separated out the other junk from the chrome; I could take care of half the loot, and most of the value, with one quick call.  

"Kid? What happened, you get shot already?" Don asked. 

"Nah, not quite that amateur hour over here," I replied. "Listen, just cleaned out a very small Scav den, took the little bit of chrome they had before I delta'd. You at all interested?" 

"Of course I'm interested," Don scoffed. "Always come to me first when it come to chrome, kiddo; I won't let you down. How much is it?" 

"One-and-a-half of those shitty foldable crates," I replied.  

"Shit, I mean, that's not that much, but that all came out of people those cocksuckers butchered, so it still stings," he grumbled. "You bringing it over, or you need me to come to you?" 

"I think I can manage to defend two boxes on my way over," I said. 

"You gotta get a ride at some point, kiddo," Don said.  

"Yeah, let me just use all these credits I'm harvesting from my credit tree to hop right on that," I quipped back. 

"Right, right. Anyway, I'll be here whenever you need," Doc said. 

"I'm going to shower first. I'll see you soon," I said before disconnecting.  

I did exactly that, showering quick before grabbing the two crates, making sure they were sealed tight, and heading out the door. The boxes might have been unwieldy for others, but I was so big I could handle them with one arm and still manage to maneuver just fine, including scanning my subway token to get into the car to head over to Doc's place. A couple of the other passengers gave me some odd looks, but nobody tried to start anything; I was far more concerned about somebody trying to rob me than I was about anybody making any complaints. Nothing bad happened, however, and I was soon heading through the noodle shop while carrying the boxes. It was early evening and the place was hopping, but the old man and his daughter just nodded at me as I passed, not needing to ask any questions. I headed through the courtyard and down the steps to Don's place, kicking the security fence to let him know I was there.  

"Shit, kid, you trying to wake the dead?" he grumbled at the noise, motioning me to bring the crates in and put them on the floor.  

"I doubt there's anything good in there, but I'm not expert," I grunted, setting the boxes where he indicated.  

"Usually how it goes; those bastards grab regular shlubs off the street, not Edgerunners or Failsafes. Still, sometimes they grab corpos and manage to get 'em back and chop 'em up without alerting anybody. It's rough, but sometimes you find a gem in the rough that way," Don said as he quickly pulled out pieces of chrome sealed in shrink wrap. 

I leaned against the wall beside the L-shaped desk he often sat at in the corner and watched him quickly sort everything, saying, "I don't know what's what, but as long as you can give me some creds for it, it's all the same. I'll at least have made something today, and, since I was looking for work anyway, I guess that'll be a nice bonus." 

"Gotta be careful with Scavs," Don commented as he finished sorting. 

"Why, they go after people?" I asked, quirking a brow. 

"Nah, not really, but they're not all trash," he said. "Some of the dens are pretty fucking big, and they're linked to old Federation groups; you can run into some pretty borg'd out guards when dealing with them. Don't just assume they're all gravy runs." 

"Noted," I grunted. 

"Well," Don sighed, leaning back on his stool and stretching. "You want the good news or bad news?" 

"Just give it to me straight, Doc," I said. 

"Well, bad news is there isn't anything great in here. No big upgrade, or payday, for you today," he explained. "On the other hand, while none of this stuff is great, it's still usable, and I'll buy it from you, just don't expect to be getting that car you desperately need outta it." 

"How much," I grunted, not really concerned. It hadn't even been a job, just cleaning up a bit of trash, and I was making money off of it. 

"I'll give you one-fifty for the whole lot," he said determinedly. 

"Shit, Doc, I thought you were gonna give me twenty bucks or something. Not a lot for you is still a full month's rent for me," I said with a sigh. 

"Well, you ain't playing in the big leagues yet, but one-fifty is chump change even to most Solos. An Edgerunner wouldn't even take a piss for one-fifty," he said. 

"I'll take your word for it," I grunted, watching Doc's eyes flash blue as he transferred me the credits. I still had the cred stick that I hadn't checked, plus the guns and headsets, so it looked like I had done even better today than being Mercer's gopher. Food for thought.  

"You need anything else? Got an upgrade you want?" Don asked as he started sorting and putting away the chrome.  

"No, no. I'm good for now, Doc. I think I still need to save for a while," I said.  

"Here, take this at least," Doc said, tossing me an injector. 

"The hell is this?" I said, turning the white and blue thing over to see 'Quick Shot' printed on the side.  

"Simple Tech 2 serum that can help clot wounds and puts a little extra oxygen in your blood through respirocytes," he said. "If you want to live through any serious scuffle, you should grab a couple injectors with all those creds you're making." 

"Thanks, Doc, I'll check it out," I said before turning and leaving. 

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