Chapter 12

The Stop-N-Leave Storage Facility was on alert. There were a number of Gangoons present in the facility as security, plus the telltale sign of Solos that Sixth Street hired on as Huscle to protect their chemicals and drugs. I managed to figure this out thanks to the Stop-N-Leave Facility's subbasement backup terminal, once more sneaking into a supposedly secure entrance via the sewer tunnels.

See, Stop-N-Leave always took their proprietary ICE and other security programs, like their camera management algorithms and secure holding protocols with them when they bombshelled from a location. However, a facility like this had preem hardware to go along with preem Corpo software. That meant backups in the subbasement that could be tapped into via the Sewer Access. All I'd had to do was knife the one Sixth Street Gangoon with the shotgun watching the sewer access and the other one at the secondary backup to jack into the system.

That, it turned out, was a lot easier than I would've thought. For guys on high alert, the two Gangoons in the subbasement weren't too on the ball. I caught them both by surprise, bursting out of the sewer entrance in full armor, Sandy and Kerenzikov working to make my already chemically enhanced physique move even faster. The Gangoon with the shotgun just barely had enough time to look over in surprise before I was punching a knife into his neck, severing his spine and destroying the Chrome he had reinforcing his neck with sheer power.

Time slowed down as the Gangoon with the shotgun jerked on the edge of my knife, my multiply enhanced mind running the numbers and calculating angles as the Gangoon at the secondary terminal began to reach for a Millitech Sheriff Heavy Pistol that sat on the desk. As time resumed, the shotgun Gangoon fell dead to the floor, dropping his Millitech Crusher even as I grabbed a combat knife off his tactical webbing and whipped it at the Gangoon at the Security Desk. My throw struck true, punching through the soft sheath of his right Cybereye as he raised his Heavy Pistol, burying itself in his brain to the hilt, Zeroing him.

Once the pair was zeroed, I immediately tossed them all for equipment or eddies I could klep, coming up with around three grand in eddies, a few grams of synthcoke on the Terminal Gangoon, likely skimmed off the top of the shit kept here, a combat knife, and the aforementioned Millitech Sherrif and Crusher. Dragging their bodies back into the sewers from the sewer entrance and hiding them behind some rubble, I headed back into the Subbasement and jacked into the secondary security terminal.

Slicing through Gangoon ICE was easy. Honestly, with my implants and abilities, I could probably hack into most Corpo Datacastles these days. Even if Stop-N-Leave had left their ICE, I probably wouldn't have had a problem with it. Of course, it was when I saw what the reason was for the heightened security that I had to suppress a groan. I tapped into our secure Comms line to give the target of my ire a piece of my mind and to let my Chooms know what was going on.

"Jaquito, have you been hitting Sixth Street Convoys without V and I?" I questioned.

"I hit a couple while you were working with the Mox, so?" Queried Jackie.

"Que eres Estupido? That's why this place is crawling with Gangoons!" I hissed.

"Que te den, I did what job was!" Scoffed Jackie.

"It's just a few Gangoons, right? We handle the biz like we always do, yeah?" Asked V.

"It's not just a few Gangoons. Sixth Street's fortified this place to hell and back. There's at least another sixty guys in here, plus Sixth Street shelled out preem eddies to hire a couple solos." I informed.

"Who?" Questioned V.

"Looks like Hammer, Isolate, and a Full Borg going by Lariat." I answered.

"Hammer I can handle, Isolate might be tricky, I heard he's pretty Nova with that Sniper Iron of his but a Full Borg? No mas." Frowned Jackie.

"Let me worry about the Full Borg. V, do you think you can out-snipe Isolate?" I queried.

"Maybe. I did get some of the Chrome you sold to Vik chipped in while he was giving me a checkup to see how I healed from that Biz with Arthur Cormac. I should be able to deal with him with that, my new optics, and that Sharpshooter Rifle you made me. No promises, though." Warned V.

"Right, I'll come up through the basement. V, you're on overwatch. Find a spot to make a sniper nest and wait for Isolate to show his hand." I ordered.

"What about me, Ernesto?" Asked Jackie.

"You get to play the bait, Jaquito. You got them all spooked, it's only fair." I chuckled.

"What? No way! What if the Full-Borg comes out first looking to slammit on?" Demanded Jackie.

"Ay pobrecito, you should've thought about that while you were hijacking Sixth Street Convoys on your own." I scoffed.

"Guys, can we get our heads in the game here we need to focus!" Hissed V.

"Right, Chica. All right, you know what to do Chooms. Everyone sound off when you're in place and we can start this party." I agreed.

"Fine, but next time, you're gonna be playing bait." Grumbled Jackie.

With that, the conversation died down as we got off comms to maintain radio silence. Not that I believed that Sixth Street could crack our comms, mind you. They didn't have the kind of know-how needed to beat my ICE, after all. No random bunch of Gangoons really did. It was still good practice, just in case the Corpos started taking an interest. In the meantime, I hunkered down in a small supply cupboard waiting for the signal to be given.

Jaquito was, somewhat unsurprisingly, the first one to signal he was in position. His role was mostly to crash the front gate and draw out Isolate so that V could Zero him quick before that big-assed Iron of his he calls a Sniper Rifle could shoot us to pieces. The dude was famous for having one of those Russian Anti-Material Sniper Rifles that was really more of a canon, which he could link with his chrome to devastating effect. Jaquito's vest could take one or two of those hits, thanks to being a reinforced variant of Flak Armor, but a third would blow right through it.

When V signaled that she'd gotten into a good overwatch position on a rooftop from one of the many half-finished buildings that dotted the district. Arroyo was, for some reason, always under construction, even when the rest of the City had mostly stopped development years ago. It worked in our favor this time, though. As I sounded off, letting the others know I was ready, I got affirmative back.

Then the fun began. . .

XXXX

General Rick Morton was worried. True, when he'd started the recent round of fighting with the Valentinos, he'd thought it would be a sure thing. His Corporate Backers sure as hell agreed. He'd partnered with Militech via a Corpo Agent named Gilchrist intending to seize the Valentinos holdings for Sixth Street while Militech grabbed some of the Zetatech and Herrera Corpo Holdings in Heywood using the Gang War as a pretext.

Only it hadn't worked out nearly so well for Sixth Street. They'd been getting their asses hammered by the Scopsucking Valentinos. Darius Miles' whole crew had been Zeroed and his inventory stolen, the same with the crew at the Dewdrop Motel. It'd forced Sixth Street to start emptying their other secondary production facilities and concentrate them here at the old Stop-N-Leave Facility, where they could turtle up and even get in some Solos as Huscle, only a couple of those convoys had been hijacked.

Gilchrist had been pretty damned clear last time Rick had spoken to him. He needed to get the situation under control or he'd find Militech's funding, chrome, and Iron suddenly withdrawn. That wasn't something that Sixth Street could survive without at this point. They'd lost so much damn territory and manpower to the Valentinos and their Huscle. Lucrative territory too, drug plants, gunshops, bars, and chop shops. Shit that made preem eddies for them that would now be making those eddies for the Valentinos.

For manpower, it seemed like they were averaging at least three dozen zeroed a day as this went on. It'd already dragged for a little over a week at this point, and Sixth Street had gone from two-thousand-three-hundred members to one-thousand-nine-hundred-fifty. That was already a hair over fifteen percent losses. Rick had seen units break from casualty rates that were just a bit heavier back in the Sharp End of the various local conflicts that'd erupted during the Time of the Red and during the Unification War.

He'd not been a general then, starting as a fresh-faced Second Lieutenant in the NUSAF and working his way up to a Major's Rank by the time he retired after the Unification War. Suffice it to say, he knew when a personal touch was needed. That was why he was here, on-site, at the Storage Facility. If the enemy was gonna attack them, this would be where they would do it. He'd pulled out all the stops for this, hiring hardened Solos like Isolate, Hammer, and Lariat and pulling a platoon's worth of his best remaining troops here.

Mind you, he'd left Flavio with another Platoon of his best troops at the Old Petrochem Facility, which was their only other drug production site still in their territory that was able to be fortified and defended. At the same time, he left Will with a few hundred people to reoccupy the Old Armory. It had been Sixth Street's Headquarters during the time of the Red and had only been abandoned during the Unification War because it might have been on the list of NUSAF bombing targets during the war.

The Armory had been in the Old North Heywood, which was now divided between Arroyo, Rancho Coronado, and Charter Hill. The Armory was just across the border from Charter Hill near where Arroyo met Rancho Coronado. That was about as far from the front lines as you could get at the moment. Rick figured that if he and Flavio wound up being zeroed, then at least Will would have a secure location from which to rebuild Sixth Street.

It was as he thought that particular thought that the explosions began. A loud, booming, roar at the front gate that cracked open the reinforced alloy of the fortified gates with an ease that Rick had never seen outside of the kinds of military explosives that were best dropped from the air. The damn blast practically vaporized the two guards minding the gate, and as Rick's Autodazzle Optics adjusted to avoid ruining his vision, he saw another grenade be tossed through the gate, exploding into a storm of shrapnel that downed several others as they rushed for the gate, followed by a third and final Grenade, which hissed open into an expanding cloud of smoke.

"Does anyone have eyes on the Gonk?" Demanded Rick.

"Da. His smoke cannot fool optics." Came the thick Russian Accent of Isolate, the Sniper having made his way to the rooftop of the Facility.

Good, thought Rick, the professionals were here. Hammer was also present to act as a bodyguard, the Millitech Perseus very heavy pistol out and his Cybereye flashing as he scanned for targets. With these two here and Lariat in reserve, Rick truly believed that they would be able to zero whatever Gonk thought they could come in here and attack them.

He would be proven wrong very drastically in short order. . .

XXXX

V kept her Sharpshooter Autorifle trained on the rooftops. Isolate was known to make impossible shots, which she was pretty sure was mostly down to his Chrome, but also down to picking the best vantage points. She had sighted her Autorifle's scope on one such point that would give a clear overwatch of the gate and the fighting below, a little nook between a pair of cooling radiators on the roof that had a bit of improvised camouflage netting strung between them to avoid detection from any AVs that came flying overhead. That was the best spot, in V's opinion.

It wasn't the only one, however, and Isolate must have figured that anyone trying to get a bead on him would think he would fire from that spot since V heard his gunshot ring out clear as day and not from where she'd figured, but from off to the left. A telltale glimmer of movement revealed Isolate to have set up under a grey blanket to blend in with the concrete of the roof off to the left of the Radiator Spot.

Unfortunately, the cry from below told V that Jackie'd been hit by the veritable canon that Isolate packed. Fortunately, it seemed that Jackie's Armor took the blow for him, Big E's gear proving its worth again. As V adjusted her aim slightly to line up a shot on Isolate, she took a deep breath in. Then, steadying herself, she breathed out while squeezing the trigger.

Her own round in no way was as loud as Isolate's had been, but it was every bit as deadly. Even more so, in fact, as Jackie would survive being hit by Isolate thanks to the advanced armor provided by Big E. Isolate, meanwhile wouldn't survive his own hit. As soon as he heard the gunshot, he threw off the blanket, diving to the side, but it was too late. Instead of avoiding V's counterfire entirely, he just wound up taking an Autorifle round to the left knee, blowing out the reinforced knee joint, and forcing Isolate to land hard on the concrete roof.

Isolate tried to drag himself over to a nearby hatch to escape and heal up with a MaxDoc or something, swearing in Russian the whole time. V couldn't let him, though. Instead, she realigned her sights on Isolate breathed in, and squeezed the trigger on exhale. Her Iron barked and the Autorifle round caught Isolate in the back of the head. He was barely saved by the chrome in his skull blunting the round, swearing as his forehead bounced off the concrete even as Isolate reached the hatch, so V simply fired again.

Her Iron barked a third and final time as Isolate threw open the hatch, but couldn't duck inside in time to avoid the Autorifle round from punching through the chrome in his skull, V's shot taking the top of Isolate's head off. Isolate slumped over, zeroed, toppling down into the hatch he was so desperate to reach just a moment earlier, his body coming to rest at the bottom.

That done, V returned her sights to the skirmish inside the gate of the Storage Facility, lending her own fire to that of Jackie's. . .

XXXX

Jackie Welles had to admit, this gear that Big E'd cooked up for them was Preem shit. He knew that what the Sixth Street Guys were using wasn't bad. In fact, compared to the average Gonk or low-level Gangoon, the Iron and Chrome being used by Sixth Street here was pretty nova. Compared to Big E's stuff, though, it all seemed like Scop. The Grenades alone had Zeroed at least a dozen Gangoons!

As Jackie grinned madly, firing his Foehammer Revolver through the vision-obscuring smoke, he could only grin as he switched his own optics over to infrared. His Chrome would only tell him where folks were, of course, but in an enemy fort like this? Anyone that wasn't him was a target. He blazed away, Sandy and Kerenzikov going as he dodged wild shots from Millitech Bulldogs and Crushers. Jackie guessed the Gangoons in here'd figured anything that didn't have that kind of spread would be useless in the smoke cloud.

Of course, he dodged around spread of smart pellets and shotgun shells using his Sandy and Kerenzikov, firing back with his Foehammer and dropping more opponents. He'd just emptied the cylinder and was about to dodge into cover to reload when a roar rang out and something slammed into his chest right above his heart like he'd been hit by a Goddamned Full Borg or something like that. Jackie fell to the pavement, ribs cracked even under the vest just from the sheer force of the blow.

"Hijo de puta!" He swore.

A series of barks rang out from elsewhere and Jackie heard cursing in Russian followed by a strangled scream, then nothing. He didn't care though, he dragged himself over to where a Thorton Mackinaw was parked, getting into cover and pulling a MaxDoc out from a pouch on his hip, putting it to his lips and breathing in the cloud of medical nanobots. While the little robots did their thing repairing his cracked ribs, Jackie reloaded his Foehammer.

Just in time, as it turned out because another roar blasted out and started shooting up his cover. That had to be Hammer. The Pendejo had been going around bragging about getting hold of a damned Militech Perseus after thirty-two years of handling biz as a solo. That was some preem iron, made for killing Cyberpsychos, Full Borgs, and other heavily Cybered-Up Folks. It was powerful enough to shoot through an engine block and could fire two slugs at a time, case in point, the Pendejo shredded the Mackinaw's engine block just as Jackie managed to dive out of cover and draw down on him.

Hammer was wearing a Gibson Medium Armorjack, one of those custom jobs that some Corpos did for veteran Solos. It seemed pretty Nova, but Jackie was willing to bet it wouldn't've stood up to that cannon from earlier. Not like his vest had. Hammer seemed a bit shocked at that himself, 'cause he didn't shoot Jackie right away as he dove out from cover, lowering his Perseus for a moment to gawk at him like some leadhead.

"I don't know how the Hell you're still up and moving like that, but it doesn't matter. I've got a job to complete and you're in the way. Nothing personal." Scowled Hammer.

Jackie moved as soon as Hammer finished his little speech, firing his Iron at the longtime Solo. Hammer was already moving, though, speed fast enough to avoid Jackie's bullets. He either had a Sandy and Kerenzikov of his own, or some kinda implant that doped him up on Combat Drugs, 'cause that kinda movement couldn't be done without either of those. Jackie responded in kind, Sandy and Kerenzikov working and letting him leap over the twin slugs fired by the Militech Perseus. Jackie wanted that Iron, he'd zero Hammer and klep it, mark his words, he just needed an opening.

As the pair danced around each other's shots, though, others in the Courtyard weren't as lucky. Collateral damage from dodges during their gun duel whose own Sandy's couldn't get them out of the way in time, or scythed down by fire from V's Sniper Iron on a nearby rooftop they had no warning for. There had to be at least two dozen Sixth Street Gangoons dead and wounded already out here, which meant that there had to be at least another thirty-six left if Big E's intel was right.

As Jackie and Hammer moved around each other, dodging a goddamned storm of bullets, the parking lot inside the gates of the Storage Facility began to look increasingly more like a goddamned battlefield. Jackie had to wonder just how long it'd take until the Badges showed. Eventually, though, Jackie got his opening to finish this duel. Just as Hammer moved into cover to try and reload, Jackie reached for his belt and tossed his last grenade over the hood of the Colby Butte that Hammer was using as cover.

"Fuck!" Swore Hammer, diving out of cover to avoid the exploding frag grenade. Jackie lined up his Foehammer and fired.

It took four shots, the first two to chew through his custom Armorjack, the second to break his subdermal, and the fourth to punch deep into his chest and tear up his insides, but Jackie managed it. Hammer was down, Zeroed by Jackie's own skill, a real Solo taken down by him! Grinning like a loon, Jackie scooped up the fallen Militech Perseus as a trophy.

Then he turned back to the fighting to continue pouring the hurt on. . .

XXXX

As I waded through the Sixth Street Gangoons in the facility, I realized that I was cutting through some of the best that Sixth Street had right now. Lieutenants with Sandy's, Kerenzikovs, and shotguns darted around trying to get a bead on me and failing, as my custom tech was just too preem to compete with. I must've slaughtered at least a dozen and a half of those guys as I made my way up from the subbasement.

Down here in the basement, there were all kinds of sealed containers of various chemicals. Beta Acids, Synthetic Hormones, and Synth-Alkaloids, all could make various kinds of drugs, anything from the Juice that all the Animals liked to shoot up, to Synthcoke, to Neoamphetamines. All of it could also be used to make my Super-Soldier Formula or to break down into base components for the creation of explosives. I'd have to come back and loot this place with one of the trucks outside after we're finished here.

Making my way up to the ground floor I spotted a corridor of mazelike hallways. Two Sixth Street Gangoons had a bead on the stairwell with Militech Mastiff Combination Weapons, the mixture of Submachine Gun and Shotgun spewing a constant hail of lead death at me. Instead of ducking back behind the wall, however, I rushed forward. Sparks flew off my fully-sealed Carapace Armor as bullets and shells bounced off, the powerful Iron no match for forty-first-millennium quality armor.

As I plowed into both of the Gangoons, I planted a combat knife in one's eye with enough force to snap the blade off in his brain. I slammed into the other one with my shoulder, bull-rushing him through the nearby interior wall, which was more plastic and wood than metal or concrete. He practically rag-dolled to the floor as I burst into a room with a half dozen other Sixth Street Gangoons, neck broken.

Time slowed down for me as I ran the numbers and came up with a simple solution for zeroing most of these half-dozen Gangoons. Predictably, as I'd just entered the center of what looked to have been a space that had previously been a loading bay, the six Gangoons moved to surround me. They all had various automatic weapons, all made by Militech. They opened fire as one, and as time sped back up for me and I leaped up above the circular hail of bullets, many of them wound up hitting each other.

I flipped around in mid-air, lining shots up with my Lyndwyrm on those still standing, My Iron barking a few times as I soared through the air at the apex of my leap. When I landed, all the Sixth Street Gangoons in the Loading Bay had been zeroed, either from my Lyndwyrm or from friendly fire, the Gonks. I guess they were too leadheaded to realize the potential there. Though, as I looked around, I couldn't help but notice something.

"I wonder where the Full Borg is? I haven't seen him yet." I mused.

As it turned out, I wouldn't have to wait long for an answer as one of the Loading Bay's tempered steel roll-up doors rolled up and revealed the Full Borg. A dull, gunmetal, chassis that could be mistaken for a version of fully-sealed armor were it not for what it led up to, a gunmetal faceplate with a robotic visage carved into it and twin, glowing, red eyes staring out with no consideration for the comfort of any onlookers. Lariat clearly had a Militech Enforcer Conversion Done, which meant he was gonna be strong, tough, and fast. If that wasn't bad enough, he withdrew twin Millitech Perseus Very Heavy Pistols from holsters.

"Seems like I'll be earning my fee after all. You folks might've wanted to bring more men." Spoke Lariat in a Robotic Voice, thought somehow the faint twang of a Texas Drawl could still be heard.

"Come get some!" I challenged.

"Don't mind if I do!" Roared Lariat back.

Then he blurred into motion and the fight was on. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. As you can probably tell, this will be the penultimate battle against Sixth Street. For one thing, their General is here, as is the bulk of their best forces. For another, if Big E and Company deal with the forces here, it's likely that Will Gunner tries to break off and strike out on his own. In canon, he couped Rick Morton for siding with the Corps, but that didn't happen until the end of the year. Here though, Will is going to have proof that doing shit for the Corps only gets you killed.

If that happens, Sixth Street will likely devolve into infighting as Will and his followers go up against Flavio and the guys who were loyal to Morton, which will make the rest of the war go smooth as silk for Big E, V, Jackie, and the Valentinos. Of course, there's the fact that all this was instigated by Anthony Gilchrist, who's acting as a Saka Mole inside Militech, which means you can expect a POV from Meredith Stout at some point in the future as she tries to exploit this failure from Gilchrist.

At any rate, the next chapter will be the next part of the battle. I'll have a character sheet adjustment up before that as well.

Stay tuned. . .