Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 10: Old Dog (Patreon)

Santo Domingo, Arroyo. An abandoned meat-processing plant.

The smell of rust and raw meat lingered in the air. A few streetlights along the road spat sparks from time to time, the crackle of electricity echoing through the empty factory grounds.

A red-and-black Chevillon Emperor slowly entered the complex.

In the back seat sat the fixer known as Old Dog, his expression tight, an expensive unlit cigar clenched between his teeth as he stared thoughtfully out the window.

Old Dog had spent more than a decade scraping his way up in Santo Domingo. From a lowly street thug to a fixer with a modest reputation, he'd risen by betraying his brothers and breaking his promises.

After so many years, though, he was sick of being squeezed between street gangs and corporations. He couldn't bear to keep living that way.

Then, by chance, he'd made contact with a researcher and heard about a drug called Chiron.

He immediately recognized it as the heaven-sent opportunity he'd been waiting decades to find.

He emptied his savings and called in every favor he'd built up over the years to reach someone genuinely important.

Militech's head of research in Night City.

Militech had expressed interest in the new drug and its ability to greatly reduce side effects.

Perhaps the company hoped to use it to make super-soldiers easier to produce.

They promised that if the drug's experimental data met their requirements, Old Dog would receive more than a generous commission. He would also get a chance to become Militech's representative in Night City, catapulting him into the same league as top fixers like Wakako and Hands.

Once he had Militech's promise, Old Dog lost his mind with ambition.

If selling his own mother would get him aboard the Militech juggernaut, then so be it. Money was nothing compared with that opportunity.

He was still lost in his fantasies when a lackey in the front seat turned and blurted out a question.

"Boss, that woman suddenly changed the meeting place, said we could only bring one car, and demanded a crazy five hundred thousand eddies. You think she figured us out?"

"Shut up!"

Old Dog was so furious that he bit his cigar in half. He spoke through clenched teeth.

"She thinks changing the address means she can blackmail me? Who the fuck does she think she is? Once I've got the goods, I'll chop that bitch up myself and feed her to the dogs!"

He panted heavily, eyes bloodshot, and shot his subordinate a displeased look.

There were things everybody knew but nobody was supposed to say out loud. Since this idiot was so eager to open his mouth, he could stand in the front row when the shooting started.

...

The abandoned processing plant really was an excellent place for a deal.

The building was exposed on every side, making it difficult to set up an ambush beforehand. It was so isolated that even one extra person would be immediately noticeable.

Pantheon sat alone in the middle of the factory, looking utterly relaxed beside a flickering campfire.

He was still wearing his HK-8 heavy bulletproof vest. On the ground beside him stood a silver-white temperature-controlled cooler about the size of a human head.

He ate his stir-fried noodles without a care, as though the exchange meant nothing to him.

On an abandoned water tower a hundred meters away, Lucy had set up a sniper rifle. She tagged the approaching enemies and shared their positions over a temporary local network.

"Perimeter cameras haven't picked up any other vehicles. Just one car, like we told them. But it's fitted with a signal jammer, so I can't scan inside."

"That's normal. They know you're a netrunner. Why wouldn't they come prepared?"

Pantheon finished his noodles, wiped his mouth, and lowered his eyes to examine a strange rod-shaped device he'd just drawn from the lottery.

Hearing Lucy's concern, he sounded supremely confident.

"Just watch me work."

The midnight wind was restless, and so was Lucy.

Would they really pay? Could there be an ambush outside? Once Pantheon had the money, would he simply run off with it?

She unconsciously tightened her grip on her rifle. The cold metal helped calm her nerves a little.

There was no more time to think. Tires braked outside the factory, and Lucy focused her attention on the entrance.

Two bodyguards in black suits stepped out first. Only after they confirmed the area was safe did Old Dog emerge behind them and enter Lucy's sights.

It wasn't that Old Dog hadn't wanted to bring more men. Lucy had given him only two hours, leaving him no time to prepare.

He'd grudgingly limited himself to this small group rather than risk provoking Lucy into doing something desperate. But he still had a few cards up his sleeve.

Old Dog entered with his men, his eyes fixed on the cooler at Pantheon's feet. He swallowed involuntarily.

Then he saw Pantheon's face and froze.

"Who are you? Where's Lucy?"

"Jason. I work for REO. Some white-haired girl paid me ten thousand eddies to bring this here. Said she'd pay another ten thousand after I delivered it."

Damn it.

Old Dog's face darkened. He'd known it couldn't be that simple.

Suppressing his impatience, he asked in a low voice.

"Where's the data?"

Without wasting words, Pantheon handed over the cooler, then took an encrypted chip from his pocket and tossed it at Old Dog's feet.

Old Dog signaled to a subordinate. The man picked up the chip and plugged it into a large terminal while a highly paid temporary technician began inspecting the files remotely.

A few minutes later, the subordinate leaned close to Old Dog's ear and nodded, both excited and frightened.

"Boss, the stuff checks out! But the expert says most of the data is missing. There might be less than a quarter here!"

Delight and fury crossed Old Dog's face at the same time. He quickly concealed both and narrowed his eyes at Pantheon.

"Where's the rest?"

"What rest? That's everything she gave me." Pantheon looked utterly innocent and confused.

Old Dog took a deep breath and contacted Lucy.

"Where's the rest of it?"

"Send the money first. Then I'll tell you where to find the remaining data."

Old Dog fell silent. Could a single sample and less than a quarter of the research be enough to satisfy Militech?

The factory went quiet. Lucy held her breath, waiting for his decision.

"Listen, man. It's the middle of the night, and all the banks are closed. How am I supposed to transfer the money? This is all I've got on me. Think it'll do?"

Old Dog abruptly changed his tune. Putting on a helpless expression, he appealed to Pantheon for sympathy while signaling for a lackey to bring over a credchip.

The veteran fixer seemed to have sensed something wrong and was testing the waters.

They'd agreed on a transfer, yet now he was offering a physical chip.

Pantheon knew exactly what Old Dog was doing, but he couldn't be bothered to keep pretending. He accepted the chip and inserted it into the terminal beside him.

Only an idiot like V would insert some stranger's hardware directly into their neural link in Night City.

Pantheon frowned at the amount displayed.

Only two hundred thousand eddies?

At that moment, Lucy's excited but anxious voice sounded over the comms.

"Two hundred thousand is fine! We're running out of time, and his bodyguards have good equipment. There's no reason to take another risk. Take the money and get out!"

Lucy didn't want any more trouble. Sixty thousand eddies, even added to what she'd already saved, wouldn't be enough to reach the Moon. Still, she'd be satisfied with it.

"You trying to bankrupt us? How the hell are we supposed to split two hundred thousand? Stay out of it. Watch this!"

Pantheon cursed and cut the call.

Old Dog watched with a smug smile, apparently enjoying their predicament.

Pantheon snorted, pulled a card from his coat, and tossed it toward him.

"Voodoo Boys online loans. An old hand like you shouldn't have any trouble borrowing another three hundred thousand, right?"

The card landed neatly in front of Old Dog. Pantheon watched the man's expression freeze and continued mockingly.

"Five hundred thousand eddies. One cent short, and you won't see the rest of the data. If you can't afford it, someone else can! And after tonight, the price goes up!"

Old Dog's face turned livid. Apart from corporate people, it had been a long time since anyone dared speak to him like that.

Then he recalled the icy gaze of Militech's research director and finally understood that he'd never had any other choice.

"Give it to him."

His arm trembled uncontrollably as he forced down his rage and gave the order.

A subordinate shakily delivered another chip containing the remaining three hundred thousand eddies.

Grinning, Pantheon reached into his coat and produced a chip holding the complete research data.

"It's all here, but it's encrypted. Once we're safely away, we'll send you the password."

Every word felt like another knife being driven into Old Dog's heart.

His face went blank. He took the chip and cooler, then returned to his car without saying a word.

Pantheon thought the deal was over and was getting ready to leave when Old Dog rolled down the window and flashed him a sinister smile.

"Lowly trash like you will never understand the power of a corporation. Your so-called encryption means nothing to Militech."

He rolled up the window immediately afterward, leaving them with just two words.

"Do it!"

Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, his three henchmen chambered their weapons in unison. Their dark muzzles trained on Pantheon's back, the faint glow of their activating cyberware standing out in the night.

Pantheon tilted his head slightly and sighed helplessly.

"The local gangs really have no manners."