Cyberpunk: Night City Shop - Chapter 8: A Gift Worth Giving (Patreon)

“Fuck, it's the cops!”

El Capitan hurried over to John and lowered his voice. “Can you use that intelligence network of yours right now?”

“Sure. What do you need?”

John was startled too. Hadn't Muamar said he'd already smoothed things over? How had the police found their hideout before they'd even finished talking? Was his new career as a Fixer about to end before it began?

While he considered how to escape, two officers emerged from the patrol car. One stayed beside the vehicle with his gun drawn. The other, a Black officer, headed straight toward them.

“Find out about that cop,” El Capitan said urgently. “Dig into his background. See if he's got anything we can use against him.”

“Got it.”

John pulled out his phone and opened the Camera app, intending to snap a picture when the officer wasn't looking and see whether it could turn up any dirt.

But when he studied the man's face, something nagged at him. He'd seen this cop somewhere before.

“NCPD! Both of you little punks, IDs and permits. Now!”

The officer reached them and barked the order without a trace of courtesy.

John finally remembered where he'd seen him.

[Hold on. Isn't this El Capitan's NCPD accomplice from that car-theft mission in Cyberpunk 2077?]

It all clicked into place. That sly old bastard was testing his ability to gather intelligence.

Fine. If El Capitan wanted to put on a show, John could act too. While the two men traded heated lines, he tapped away at his phone, pretending to conduct a discreet investigation.

“This is some fucking bullshit...”

Before El Capitan could finish his complaint, John's camera took the picture and displayed a name.

[Ayden Daniels (NCPD Officer)]

[Pay 20 Points to unlock?]

John certainly wasn't paying twenty Points. For one thing, he couldn't afford them. Fortunately, he already remembered the relevant information from the game.

“Well, well. Ayden Daniels, NCPD officer. Repeatedly accepted bribes under the table and helped other people steal property.”

John recited the facts he remembered, a mischievous smile on his face. “What is this, Officer? Planning to rip us off and keep the loot for yourself?”

“Hey, what the fuck did you just say, you little shit? Slandering an officer is a serious crime!”

Daniels's face darkened, and his hand moved toward the pistol on his hip.

“All right, enough acting. I've already figured it out.”

With the man's fingers almost touching the holster, John decided the joke had gone far enough.

“A capable, practical officer, born and raised in Santo Domingo. He knows how hard it is to uphold justice in Night City, so he's chosen his own way of doing it. He takes bribes to buy better equipment for himself and his colleagues, and he bribes his superiors to cover up actions that might be illegal but are still the right thing to do.

“He grew up alongside Muamar Reyes, better known as El Capitan. They've been working together to improve life for the people of Santo Domingo. How's that? Did I miss anything?”

“Holy shit, Lee!”

Daniels stared in surprise, while El Capitan practically shouted. “A few seconds and you've already found out everything down to the color of his underwear? Damn, you've got skills!”

“Ah, fuck off.”

His cover blown, Daniels dropped the act. He laughed and punched El Capitan on the shoulder.

“Don't underestimate my intelligence network,” John said seriously, putting his phone away. “It's how I managed to drive all the way to Night City alive. If I didn't have something special to offer, I wouldn't be trying to become a Fixer.”

“Fair enough. I'm convinced,” El Capitan admitted.

Daniels nodded too. “Muamar told me this morning that some rookie who'd just arrived in Night City wanted to be a Fixer. I thought he'd gone crazy. Turns out you've actually got the ability.”

“Then it's settled.” El Capitan beamed. “From now on, I find the cars and the buyers, you find the information, and Falco does the driving.”

He nodded toward Falco, who had just emerged from the garage. “Sound good to you?”

Falco nodded. “Lee can do the job. No objections from me.”

“You make it sound like I'm just here for a free ride,” Daniels joked. “If I hadn't pulled strings at the station, you wouldn't just be losing money. You'd have had to give that Quadra back.”

“Never! You're our savior, Night City's very own righteous sheriff.”

El Capitan laughed and gave Daniels a playful punch in return. “No problems with your boss?”

“It's handled, but this is a one-time favor.” Daniels frowned at the mention of the police station. “If you want to keep doing this, that old bastard's going to demand his share.”

“Greedy prick.” El Capitan rubbed his chin. “Any idea what he likes?”

“What does he like? Eating, drinking, chasing women, gambling. You name a vice, he's got it,” Daniels said bitterly. “But he's especially crazy about luxury cars. He's always wanted a Villefort Alvarado.”

El Capitan's brows drew together. “An Alvarado? That's a tough one. Outside the corporate elite, only the Valentinos might have a few.”

Daniels thought for a moment. “He also smokes. He's got a cigarette in his mouth all day at the station. The bastard practically fumigates the place.”

“Wait. Hold on a second.”

John seized on that detail. He took a cigarette from his pack and offered it to Daniels. “Try one of these.”

“Huh? What's this?”

The officer looked puzzled, but he lit the cigarette and took a drag.

“Holy fuck. That's pure tobacco!”

“Brought it all the way across the ocean. Premium cigarettes, one hundred percent real tobacco. Nothing like those synthetic substitutes.”

John sounded like a salesman as he asked, “Think your boss would like these?”

“Real tobacco? No wonder it's so good.”

El Capitan gazed regretfully at the cigarette butt he'd crushed beneath his shoe.

Daniels nodded enthusiastically. “He'd love them. The old bastard makes plenty of money, but I doubt he gets to smoke anything this good very often.”

Then he hesitated. “But how many do you have? One pack of these must cost close to a thousand eurodollars.”

Instead of answering, John went over to his Columbus van and took out an entire carton of cigarettes. He'd come to discuss joining the Fixer business, after all, and had thought ahead about bringing a gift.

He handed Daniels the red carton. “Ten packs, twenty cigarettes in each. That ought to keep him happy for a while.”

“No problem. If these don't shut that old guy up, I'll flip his damn desk over myself!”

Daniels accepted the carton carefully and gave his word.

El Capitan clapped John on the shoulder. “You've really got something, Lee. I'm starting to think you could actually become Santo Domingo's top Fixer.”

“There's one condition, though.”

John took the opportunity to make his demand. “Whenever there's a job, whether it works out or not, you have to transfer the money for my intelligence gathering in advance.”

“No problem. We'd have to pay for the intel ourselves anyway.”

El Capitan agreed without hesitation, thumping his chest.

“Knew I could count on you, El Capitan.”

John smiled and slipped the opened pack of cigarettes from his pocket into the other man's hand. “Looking forward to working together!”