Chapter 13

Lariat opened our duel by firing his twin Millitech Perseus Very Heavy Pistols at me, all barrels blazing away as a quartet of Nova-Hot, Armor Piercing, Slugs vomited out from his preem iron. Immediately, my Sandy and Kerenzikov started working overtime alongside my Chemically-Enhanced Body as I tried to dodge the shots as best I could, not wanting to trust that my Armor could stand up to a constant barrage of shots capable of putting holes in tank armor.

As I did so, I fired back with my Lyndwyrm, the Autopistol blazing away at Lariat. Rounds from my autopistol tore chunks and gouges out of Lariat's Chassis, blasting away at the Armored Shell that made up his Full Borg Body, but it wasn't quite there yet. It seemed like a Full-Borg conversion, at least, was the sort of thing that could stand up to Auto-Pistol Rounds, similar to high-quality flak armor or light carapace armor.

I would be able to wear away at it with enough shots, of course, but it'd take those Perseus Pistols around half the time to blow through my heavier medium carapace, at least unless I could figure out a weak point in the chassis to hit. Until then, it was gonna be a game of dodge and chip through his armor to hit something vital. I janked to the side to avoid a pair of slugs from Lariat's right-hand Perseus, before leaping into the air to avoid a blast from his left, firing back in mid-air to chip away at the domed plates covering his skull, Lyndwyrm Rounds denting and creasing the armor, but failing to penetrate.

Lariat tracked me as I flew through the air and raised both pistols to fire at me, only for me to kick off the roof of the loading dock and rocket back down at him, drawing a combat knife from the tactical harness I had on over my armor. A quartet of holes was gouged into the ceiling a mere moment after I started my descent as I aimed my Combat Knife for the relatively less well-armored lenses that made up the Cybereyes of Lariat's Enforcer Conversion. Unfortunately, I hadn't considered just how it was that the Solo had earned his handle.

I suddenly found a hydraulically powered arm smashing into me as I made to begin my attack, smashing me through the reinforced outer wall of the loading dock and blasting me out into the rear truck bay of the Stop-N-Leave. I slammed into the asphalt of the truck bay parking lot with a jolt, actually feeling my chest bruise from the attack. I landed awkwardly as well, causing me to dislocate my left shoulder.

I had little time to think about that because I had to roll to the side to avoid being zeroed by fire from Lariat's Twin irons, slugs cracking into the asphalt. I tucked myself behind a Kaukaz Bratsk Heavy Duty Truck, which ought to withstand fire from the twin Perseus Very Heavy Pistols for at least a little bit. I was gonna damn sure remember to reverse engineer those things to see if I couldn't add some of that Preem Iron's Capabilities to a new design when all this was done.

Right now, though, I had to grit my teeth and place my shoulder up against the giant wheel of the Kaukaz Truck. I wasn't a doctor, exactly, but my Mechanicus Knowledge of Human Augmentation, along with my Omnidisciplinary Abilities let me fake it good enough to fix the shoulder I'd dislocated. With a grunt, I slammed my shoulder into the wheel of the Kaukaz Truck, forcibly realigning the shoulder with the socket, stifling a grunt in the process. I was gonna feel that tomorrow, assuming I survived, but I'd be able to use the arm now, at least.

That happened just in time too, as Lariat finished shredding the Kaukaz's Engine Block with sustained fire from his twin Irons only to have the magazines click empty. As he reloaded, I popped up time slowing down as I ran the numbers enhanced brain calculating angles and ballistics while Lariat reloaded his Preem Irons. Using my abilities, I calculated I could get one, maybe two shots off before he was done, so this would have to be perfect.

As time sped back up, I raised my Lyndwyrm and fired along the angles I'd previously calculated. My first shot cracked the tempered ballistic glass of Lariat's right Cybereye, but my second deflected off his metallic faceplate as he turned his head to the side. That was fine by me, however, because I had a backup plan in place, my Sandy and Kerenzikov working in time with my chemically enhanced body to rush forth in a blur, ducking down and sliding under the twin shots from the only Perseus that Lariat had the time to reload, pulling my last Combat Knife from my tactical harness as the twin slugs sailed overhead and popping up next to Lariat. As I did so, Lariat dropped both his Perseus Irons and flicked his wrist, a stun baton folding out of his Cyberarm.

We struck at the same time, me planting my Combat Knife through the busted Cybereye and him smashing me in the chest with his Pop-Up Stun Baton. I jerked in place as my Combat Knife stuck into Lariat's Brain through the busted Cybereye from the voltage of the Stun Baton conducted through my Armor and into my body. This only served to rattle the Combat Knife around inside Lariat's Brain. After a few, long, moments of white-hot pain, the hilt of the Combat Knife snapped off, leaving the blade stuck in Lariat's Metallic Skull.

Stars exploded behind my eyes from the pain and I fell to the ground, even as Lariat slumped down at the same time, leaking nutrient fluid and bits of brain matter out of his destroyed Cybereye. Fortunately, my Mechanicus Brain Implants allowed me to shunt aside the pain, simply by shutting down the pain receptors. After a few, long, moments of lying on the asphalt, breathing hard, I managed to push myself to my feet. Lariat, on the other hand, didn't. I'd managed to Zero him with that last attack.

"Hijo de puta!" I swore.

Even with my pain receptors switched off temporarily I was still feeling the spasms in my muscles from the high voltage. There had to be at least two or three thousand volts in that baton, more than enough to kill the average, non-augmented Gonk. Fortunately for me, I was made of sterner stuff than that.

"Still hurts like a bitch." I muttered.

Looking over at Lariat's Corpse, I spat at the Zeroed Full Borg, kicking him over to collapse onto the pavement like a ragdoll. Then, satisfied Lariat was actually zeroed and not just faking, I scooped up his twin Perseus Very Heavy Pistols, nodding to myself as I did so.

"I'm klepping your Preem Iron as payment for my pain and suffering, Pendejo." I growled.

The dead Gonk didn't reply, but that was fine by me. I stashed the twin Perseus Shooting Irons in my tactical harness before I moved on through the Stop-N-Leave Facility. As I left the loading bay, I reloaded my Lyndwyrm and readied myself for more Gangoons looking to Slammit On. To my surprise, I only managed to zero about a dozen others before clearing the entire facility, none of which so much as even came close to scratching me. I resolved to call Jackie and V on the Team Comms to see how they were doing.

"Status report. What's the sitch, Chooms?" I questioned over Comms.

"Zeroed at least thirty Gangoons plus Hammer. Culero on the Roof hit me with some kinda Canon, but your vest stopped the round. Some preem shit you made me there, Ernesto." Answered Jackie.

"I Zeroed out a similar number, plus Isolate, the Culero Jackie was talking about. The Gonk took a hell of a beating, though I have no clue what kind of subdermal he had chipped in, but it was pretty Nova." Reported V.

"I Zeroed Lariat plus a similar number of Sixth Street Gangoons. The Facility's all clear on my end, what about you?" I queried.

"Same." Responded Jackie.

"Clear here too." Added V.

"Then, I think we can call this one a victory. Let's get to klepping whatever we can and then call it into Tio Padre." I ordered.

As it would transpire, we'd manage to pick up a shitload of gear, another three-hundred-grand in Eddies, and a metric assload of chemicals for my projects. All told, we'd managed to Zero around one-hundred-odd Sixth Street Gangoons today. Not bad for one afternoon's work. After a message to Tio Padre, he informed us that the Valentinos were going after the Petrochem Facility themselves, that he'd be sending over some guys to take control of the Stop-N-Leave Facility, and that we could consider this biz successfully completed.

Soon enough, we loaded up one of the non-bullet-riddled Kaukaz Trucks with our Klepped Gear and headed back to drop off the stuff at my Apartment. I drove the Truck while V drove her Kombi and we had it all unloaded easy enough, splitting the Eddies three ways for a hundred grand each plus Tio Padre's Payday. Once that was done, we dropped the Kaukaz Truck off at El Moto Cielo, where Chela and Juan paid us another thirty grand for the truck, split three ways once again. Then we all piled into V's Yacatecuhtli and headed for El Coyote Cojo.

It was time to celebrate. . .

XXXX

General Rick Morton had just barely escaped the massacre at the Stop-N-Leave, shimmying out a side exit of the property and dropping down a manhole into the sewers. That was a risky move, the sort of Scop that lived down here would zero you too, but somehow it seemed less certain that the guys that'd attacked.

"Who the hell were those Guys?" He wondered as he made his way through the sewers toward a safe house he had prepped in Megabuilding H-Six.

Seriously, that was a damn good question. He thought they might've been Valentinos at first, given the Tats on the Gonk with the Grenades, but if the Valentinos had any Gangoons that could do what those three just had, then they wouldn't've bothered trying to lick their wounds after the last time they'd gotten to Slammit On with Sixth Street. They'd have kept pushing till all of Santo Domingo was theirs, and maybe Arroyo too. That meant Huscle, which meant Solos.

"Clearly, they'd gotten better Solos than we did." He groused.

True, Isolate and Hammer had come highly recommended by Gilchrist, and while Lariat was less experienced than those two, the fact that he was a Full-Borg counted for a lot. Or at least it should've. Unfortunately, all three of the Solos he'd hired as Huscle had been Zeroed, along with a hundred of his best guys. On the bright side, at least this meant that they wouldn't have to pay Isolate, Hammer, and Lariat.

A growl was all the warning General Morton got, breaking him out of his thoughts as he flattened himself against the wall of the sewer. As he did so, what emerged from the Darkness looked like a Stray Cat, if you pumped it full of steroids and tossed it into a Nuclear Reactor. It was hairless, with three eyes and a tail that was more tendril than tail. Some kind of mutant, a street cat that'd been mutated by the fallout of the Night City Holocaust or some sort of contaminant pumped out here by the Corps.

General Rick Morton tightened his grip on the Millitech Mastiff he'd grabbed before bugging out of the Stop-N-Leave Facility. The Mutant Cat flicked its tongue out, a forked, slithering, thing that tasted the air. General Morton aimed his Mastiff. Then with a yowl, the Mutant Cat pounced at him and General Morton fired a veritable hail of lead at the damned thing from his Iron. Submachine Gun rounds interspersed with shotgun blasts. The thing went down after two bullets and a shotgun slug found their way into its body, but not before its pounce bruised two of General Morton's ribs and raked its claws through his chest.

As the zeroed Mutant Cat collapsed on top of General Morton, it leaked foul-smelling, black, blood onto him and into the sewer. General Morton pushed the carcass off him with a shove, gathered up his Iron, and hit himself with a shot of Rapidetox just in case. You never knew what kind of Scop that thing had in its bloodstream, after all. Now though, it was pretty imperative that he get to his safehouse. He wasn't a MedTech and the roughshod use of Rapidetox like that was definitely going to make him hurl a bunch.

Thankfully, he managed to do it, reaching his safehouse in Megabuilding H-Six a few hours after escaping from the slaughter at the Stop-N-Leave Facility, and around fifteen minutes after the encounter with that Scopsucking Mutant Cat. Entering his safehouse and heading for his bathroom, he immediately felt his stomach roil. Once General Morton was finished emptying his guts, he turned on his terminal and began looking to see what was going on, and if he could plan his next moves. It was then that he learned what had happened while he'd been escaping.

The Valentinos had not only hit the Old Petrochem Plant in force and pushed out the force he had there, with Flavio calling the retreat. Furthermore, these two defeats had let Will Gunner declare himself the new General, claiming General Morton had thrown in with the Corps and Hazed Sixth Street, getting a bunch of their guys zeroed on the say-so of some Corpo Scopsucker. To be fair to Will, he wasn't completely wrong. He had started the War with the Valentinos on Gilchrist's say-so. However, a Sixth Street Civil War was not what anyone needed right now. Already dozens of men had fallen on both sides as loyalists and Rebels tried to hash out what was going on and who was in charge the only way they knew how, with their Irons.

Fortunately, General Morton was back in contact and could start rallying the Loyalists. He'd been about to send a message to Flavio when a knock sounded on the door of his Safehouse. Nobody should know where he was, which was reason enough to worry, but the Cameras on the door showed a Blonde in Corpo Attire. That was odd as well and it set off his bullshit detector. Unfortunately, however, he didn't have a way out of the safehouse in case some Scopsucker was good enough to Netrun into his security cameras to hide a brute squad.

General Morton had just enough time to grab his Militech Sheriff off the desk where he was sitting before the door was blasted inward by explosive force and his worst fear had been realized. A Brute Squad of Militech Spec Ops rushed into his safehouse, weapons at the ready. General Morton got off a single shot on the point man, which was deflected by his armored vest, before a rifle butt slammed into his face, knocking him down as he tasted blood in his mouth.

"Richard Morton, Former Captain during the Unification Wars, fought in the Pacifican Frontier Campaign, wounded twice during the Battle of Tacoma, resulting in the installation of that Cyberarm you have there. Discharged after peace with full honors where you joined up with Sixth Street and quickly became the right-hand man of the previous General, Solomon Wright, becoming General after Solomon's Death due to Cancer in twenty-seventy-four." Recited the Blonde.

"Yeah, that's me. Who the fuck are you supposed to be?" Asked General Morton.

He hauled himself to his feet only to be pistol-whipped by one of the Brute Squad for his troubles, spilling him back down to the floor where another one of the Brute Squad to put his boot on General Morton's back and point the barrel of his Iron, a Militech Ajax Assault Rifle, at the back of General Morton's head. The Blonde Corpo glared down at General Morton with venom in her eyes.

"My name is Meredith Stout, I work for Militech, as you can probably guess. We have some questions about your association with Anthony Gilchrist and you're going to answer them whether you want to or not." Intoned the Blonde Corpo.

And so, General Rick Morton was hauled away, black-bagged by Militech, and taken to a secure site outside of Night City. He would spend weeks being repeatedly interrogated there, and in the end, his testimony would wind up leading to Anthony Gilchrist being terminated from his contract with Militech. All the while, Sixth Street devolved into a civil war behind him even as the Valentinos pushed hard on their territory. They wouldn't last as a gang because of that.

By the fall of twenty-seventy-seven, Sixth Street would be no more. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we have the penultimate chapter in the Sixth Street-Valentino's War Arc. Big E and Company have effectively managed to do the impossible and you can damn well bet that news of the Stop-N-Leave Massacre is going to get them a lot of attention, not all of it beneficial.

Meanwhile, Sixth Street is effectively fucked and will not last into the start of the game's events. At the same time, Meredith Stout capturing General Morton like this will lead to his termination from Militech as news of how badly his gambit with Sixth Street backfired gets back to the Board. Oddly enough, that effectively gets rid of Gilchrist as Arasaka's Mole inside Militech, even though at this point, they don't even realize it's him. All because of something unrelated to corporate espionage.

At any rate, the next chapter will have another look at Aleksander Yurinov, as well as start the next arc, which will involve the Tyger Claws and Mox. I'll have a character sheet update before then as well.

Stay tuned. . .