Chapter Text
“Sorry for the hold up, Del.”
“The predetermined destination has been reached, but I’m afraid the company will have to bill you for any damages caused by unauthorized commandeering of the vehicle, in addition to the time spent parked at an unagreed upon location.”
V grits his teeth, flashing steely dental mods, and pinches the bridge of his still-tender nose.
“Alright. Fine. Thanks.”
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s racked up a debt, and he doubts it will be the last. He’ll make the scratch somehow. Always does.
V exits the vehicle carefully, avoiding the wrath of an irritable AI as the car pulls away swiftly.
He’s only here to fulfill Del’s parameters so that the meter doesn’t run endlessly. Fuck Dex. Now that Jackie is in critical condition and Vik gave V the bad news about the chip that’s in his choom’s head, the fixer ain’t getting shit from either of them. Jackie’s like the big brother V never had. No amount of eddys is worth losing him.
As it is, he creeps away from the motel on high alert, intent on getting back to Vik and the security of the Valentinos who now guard Misty’s shop while Jackie is in recovery.
He does a bit of parkour, hopping on top of a dumpster and vaulting over the security gate that eerily chose to close shut as soon as Del left, and then V is jogging along the road. Maybe if he gets lucky he’ll find a spare bike to klep temporarily to the next Ncart station. About twenty minutes later as he’s still searching, some skeletal buggy of a vehicle comes slowing down to a crawl beside him, with a group of Maelstromers practically falling out of it.
No windows, no roof, no doors. Plenty of space to lean out and shoot from multiple angles. Practical, if you have enough chrome to shrug off a few bullets.
A familiar face grins at V from a precarious perch, clinging casually to the back of the car, boots on the bumper and ass to the wind.
“Hey Styles, you lost? Or on the hunt for some’thin?”
V smirks in spite of his trepidation. He’s seen these guys come swinging around corners on these dinky old carts like madmen, cackling and shooting in seemingly random directions just to spook anyone out of their territory. They like to chase people down for sport, too.
I like your style…
V chooses not to correct Dum Dum on the name choice.
“Trying to give somebody the slip and delta out, actually. Bad biz.”
“Oh yeah?”
Dum Dum looks around conspiratorially for potential threats and then refocuses on V. The car that was behind the gang very cautiously zips around the buggy, the driver not brave enough to honk and not willing to stay stalled behind them either.
“You want us to go cave in some skulls for ya?”
“Uh…”
The other Maelstromers in the vehicle start snickering. Dum Dum pulls his gun on them and the laughter stops, but the offending crew members look way too relaxed about it. V can’t sense one ounce of fear from any of them. Dum Dum leans his arm on the top of the car to signal he’s no longer threatening anyone, but the pistol is still held in his grip when he looks at V again.
“Well? How ‘bout it? We could use some entertainment.”
V hesitates. When he was a kid he thought he’d either join the Animals or Maelstrom, tired of being small and weak and scared. He’d changed his mind when he heard that the Animals don’t live all that long, and that the Maelstrom gang likes to install cyberware without using anesthesia. He still has the feeling that he and Jackie are just lucky that Royce didn’t choose to take the cred chip and then kill the both of them anyway.
Dum Dum seems alright but…maybe that’s how they get you. By handing out free drugs and compliments and acting all friendly…then the next thing you know, you wake up strapped to an operating table with the choice to either join Maelstrom or get carted off to the scavs. Then again, V used to have similar fears about Jackie when they first met.
There’s another problem though. Just how much trouble does V stand to find himself in if it gets out that he buddied up with Maelstrom to off a fixer? How is he going to get jobs after that? What’s he going to do if the straight laced types won’t take him because he has a criminal record, but no fixer will touch him either?
“Think I just need a lift. Next Ncart station, if that’s alright with you guys.”
A chorus of boo’s and jeers sounds off from the other passengers and for a moment V worries he’s stepped in something bad by turning them down, but Dum Dum seems to take it in stride.
“Shut your traps! Choice…is important.”
All the Maelstromers seem to regard V silently for a moment, Dum Dum included. It’s a bit unsettling. Half a dozen infrared, spidery faces, each with multiple sets of optics, staring him down. He feels like prey. Then Dum Dum grins and scooches over just enough that V can hang from the back beside him.
“Well come on then, all aboard.”
V briefly considers bolting—wonders if the car will tip over with so many people on it—thinks being laughed at and called a coward will be better than whatever these guys might have planned for him—but then he hears a loud engine in the distance. Shouting. He looks over to see a pair of headlights growing rapidly closer and his breath catches in his throat.
Instincts win over paranoia and he’s jumping up onto the bumper and holding onto the frame of the car for dear life, trying to calm his nerves enough to bring out his gun.
“Looks like you’ll get your entertainment after all.”
The swiveling of the gang’s heads to get a better look at their target, the light cast by red optics in the dark, reminds V of laser sights. A lot of different limbs swing out, cocking weapons, and the driver slams the accelerator. V doesn’t know if he really feels safe, despite the buggy’s passengers outnumbering the few men in the sleek whale of a car tailing them. His back is completely exposed.
He’s only holding on by one arm, and it shakes from the effort. His ears ring with the sound of un-silenced weapons going off right next to him. He can barely register Dex’s voice in the cacophony, but he can see the man standing up through his car’s sunroof, blasting away with a machine gun. Thankfully, the Maelstrom driver is weaving so much V isn’t getting blown into meaty little chunks by the rain of bullets.
Aiming for the people shooting at them is next to impossible for V, though he suspects the Maelstrom gangoons might have targeting systems installed because he sees a few hits land here and there. Spurts of blood spraying out into the air. He focuses instead on shooting out the tires. The engine. Anything that will slow his pursuer down.
One of the tires bursts and Dex’s car goes squealing off to the side and rams into a concrete blockade. Cheers erupt from the Maelstroms. The buggy keeps speeding on. Two seconds pass that feel much longer, and V’s heart thuds with dread and indecision before he turns and hollers at the driver.
“Turn around! Go back!”
Somehow the Maelstrom members manage to look surprised even with a lack of eyebrows. The driver waits for Dum Dum to give them the go ahead, and then the buggy does a u-turn. Pulling to a stop in front of Dex’s wrecked car, V jumps down to the pavement and almost falls, suddenly dizzy. He feels almost drunk as he walks over to check for survivors.
The gangoons gradually get out of the buggy and start surrounding the scene, like hyenas investigating a carcass. V spots a couple of them squabbling over a gun discovered near a dead body. Toward the back of the car, leaning on a railing, is Dex.
He and V stare each other down a moment, Dex heaving with pain and keeping pressure to a bleeding wound, V on the verge of hyperventilating. Dex grits his teeth and tries to push himself up, scowling.
“Motherfucker—You are fucking DEAD, you know that? All you hadda do was deliver the damn chip, and I woulda helped you keep Arasaka off both our asses—Now? Forget it!”
V chokes on air, coughs, and then remembers how to breathe again. Righteous anger floods him, overtaking the panic.
“Yeah? I think you’re full’a shit, Dex. I think, you were hop’in I’d pass the goods off to you and then you could pin the whole heist on me an’ Jackie. Deny taking any part in it. Walk away with a hundred percent of the profit. Bug is fucking gone. Jackie might be gone too. And you—“
V paces around in aggravation. His head hurts. It’s hard to think clearly. He should never have taken this gig, knew it was rotten from the start, but Jackie had been so excited about it…
Arasaka will be on their trail. V grips the handle of his weapon until his knuckles turn white. Bug is gone. Jackie, if he lives, would never rat V out. He trusts Vik not to either. That just leaves Dex, Evelyn, and Judy. No one else knows about the heist.
V takes a deep breath, walks up and presses his gun to Dex’s temple, feels sick to his stomach at the fear in the man’s eyes, and then pulls the trigger.
Riding back to Vik’s on the Ncart, V feels like he’s floating out of his own body, and dimly recalls a moment when he’d felt Dum Dum’s arm wrap around his shoulders to keep him from falling off the back of the buggy in his numb state. Other people on the Ncart keep shooting him nervous glances, and it’s only then that he looks down and realizes that he’s covered in blood. Mentally, he sends his apologies to his childhood idol, Morgan Blackhand. It looks like he’ll have to become a killer after all.