Cyberpunk 2077: V

Chapter 14: Just Soulmates

Dropping off Mower was easier than V thought. All she had to do was show up to the ping Regina sent, an obscure little underpass next to a long-abandoned gas station. A man dressed in all black with thick sunglasses perched on the edge of his nose was there, waiting next to a modified Archer Hela. He did what V would not, jacking into the MiliTech woman and uploading whatever the "Sandman" program was to her soft. Then he dragged her into the Hela and left without a word.

While V watched the man lift Mower into the car, Regina sent her a text. Told her what had REALLY happened to Mower. How the MiliTech officer, worried about the inability to turn off her own implants, strange headaches, and mounting aggression had turned to a trusted corporation doctor, who in turn directed her to the old sluice alley as a place of safety. Instead of a place to meet for a secret checkup, however...it was a trap. By MiliTech. By Mower's own people. A hit squad was sent to take her down before she went psycho. 

V felt that it was that awful betrayal that pushed Mower over the edge. She felt sorry for her, even if the woman almost killed her. Even if she ended up killing the hit squad and everyone else who came after her. She reached out for help, and was instead met with an order to kill placed on her head like she was nothing. A sad thing. 

Hopefully Mower would find some solace or help in whatever "therapy" Regina kept running on  about. 

By the time Regina's agent drove away, it was almost evening. V stared at the modified Hela's brake lights as they disapeared down the street, clothes and hair damp with rancid water, her own blood trickling down her back, wondering how in the hell she'd gotten into this situation. The tank top she'd slipped on that morning had a long tear in the back that matched the deep slice in the flesh behind her kidney; a long wound that arched across the skin towards her spine. Must've slid against a blade or a loose screw in the water or something. 

The cut hurt.

Exhaustion made it hard for V to think. The struggle and subsequent escape with Mower had taken more out of her than she realized. She turned to stare at the hulking MiliTech car for a while before reaching a decision on how to proceed. 

It felt like it took forever to get to the little apartment complex in Northside. V's arms and hands trembled as she bumped the corpo Chevillon over the low curb into the crumbling parking lot. She watched a couple of joytoys and what she thought was a dealer look up at her as she pulled in, then disappear around the corner of the building like cockroaches when the lights turn on. V huffed humorlessly, shifted the car into park, then pulled up her phone HUD. She sent a quick encrypted text to the kids from the garage she'd visited earlier. Told them they had a vehicle to "look after". 

There was another reason to like that garage run by kids. Besides being able to sniff out deals, find the best parts, and boasting the repair-sense of Nomads, they had a...side hustle, going on. When asked by special clientele, the kids would also "recycle" any vehicles that needed disappearing. V had witnessed the kids at work once; they'd stripped a V-Tech down to the frame in fifteen minutes before sending the shell off to get melted down for other uses. She'd only used the service a few times before, when she found herself suddenly in the position of handling a hot vehicle that she couldn't take in herself. 

Satisfied that by the time she walked out of the reception office the Chevillon would probably be gone, V stumbled out of the vehicle and slammed the door closed. The electric shock she'd gotten from Mower, amplified by the water in that sluice alley, had royally fucked with V. Her body was still shaking, especially her hands and arms. The shakes were probably as much from the shock as it was exhaustion from going toe to toe with a freaking MiliTech officer stuffed with combat chrome. V happened to look down at her hands in that moment, seeing splatters of rust and pink. Her hair was a tangled, damp rat's nest over one shoulder. What a sight she was, covered in blood and shaking like a junkie.