Short story collection

Tin Man - Part 2

[Message received]
   2:08 AM
  Rogue: Update.
  "Wait... w-wait..."
  Blood began to seep into Tin Man's prosthetic hand, coating the dark metal and making the joints slick as if they were just oiled.
  6th street, mostly men who wore the American flag and flaunted its colors like they were representing. Tin Man didn't know much about them other than that. Except for today of all days, Independence Day, someone wanted to send a message. It seemed poetic.
  Tin Man propped up an older member against the hard wall of an abandoned project; ignoring his raspy pleads.
  The cold, concrete walls carrying their tattered flag were now tainted with soot and shrapnel. Bodies littered the floor and the sole survivor, a veteran of the gang, was left incapacitated. Bio readings indicated he would survive due to an old implant from the corporate war, but Tin Man's objective had not yet been fulfilled.
  With the old man standing, he whirled him around and reeled a clenched fist back before shooting it forward.
  The 6th street veteran howled in agonizing pain as his lower back was left shattered, permanently damaging the underlying nerve bundles.
  "Emotion: Empathy." Tin Man hurled the old man to a nearby table, laying him below their banner and giving him a good view of a single word engraved under his eyepiece. It read in the old English font: Smile. "Vertebrae L1 through L5 have shattered. You will live. Granted, without freedom."
  The imposing figure moved out of the man's sight, making sounds of metal and whirring actuators. When he returned, he jabbed a stim into the veteran's shoulder, immediately relieving him of the pain and temporarily clotting blood.
  "Message of the day: Stay out of Haywood."
  Tin Man took his time weaving through puddles of blood, taking great care to not dirty his shoes.
  His eyes winked and so came Rogue's voice. She was understandably drained at this time of the day.
  "How'd it go?" She asked with a deep sigh.
  "Target: Stabilized. Lower spine: Destroyed. Question: Are you satisfied?"
  "I am." The wavelength of Rogue's voice suggested she was surprised and also a little unnerved by the news. "And I'm sure the client is just as satisfied. Good work."
  "Thank you." Tin Man left the unfinished project a mess. He knew someone else would clean up once they stumbled upon the scene.
"Question: Are we done?"
  "Yeah," Tin Man's GPS was updated with the location of a drop point, an automated machine that would dispense his pay. "Just one more thing. You've got a visitor."

Sasha's day started out like any other. Wake up, get your morning routine in, and have breakfast. Except, she didn't remember the last time she had breakfast or a morning routine.
  The sun wasn't what greeted her when she opened the shutters to her apartment. What she saw was nowhere near beautiful.
  Holographic adverts clouded the sky, blotting out the darkness hanging over Night City and swallowing up any chance of seeing the stars.
  Most of them were for some new up-and-coming drink or snack, some were for a premiering series or product, and the one to greet her on such a fine night was of an explicit virtue with a man's erection on full display.
  "Wonderful." Sasha whispered before closing the shutters.
  A quick glimpse at her clock showed her that she overslept. Not that she had anything going on tonight.
  She flicked through her emails with the sound of yesterday's news in the background. With a heated-up burrito on her plate, she couldn't really care.
  Junk mail, scams, spam, and superstitious chain emails plague her feed. After purging them from existence and blocking their sender she moved on to her text messages.
  Maine wished her a relieved goodnight. Rebecca was considerably more chirpy than usual. And Dorio was her usual self after scolding her into the dirt. There also weren't any gigs listed from the local Fixers, bringing her spirits down considerably.
  At the very end of her text messages was a two-word response that her eyes lingered on far longer than she realized.
Unknown number: Get down.
  The events of yesterday quickly caught up to her, making her hesitant to flick the message away and delete it.
Why was he there?
  Tin Man didn't show much interest in small talk. He simply landed the car, let her off, and then left. He didn't say who hired him or what for. Maine was just as confused as she was.
What time is it?
  [Time] 1:37 AM
The Afterlife was usually crowded at this time of the day, but she didn't see a reason why the bouncer would turn her away. She had business with the Tin Man. Surely that was enough.
Here's hoping... She thought with a sigh.
  Grabbing her bag and pistol, she was off.