Back to Dogtown

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[Incoming Call: V]

Cade: "Boss, I'm in Dogtown. I also put a little extra tension on Mr. Hands."

V: "Not bad. Hands's wife has a preem body. Sitting in the same car as a woman that hot almost sounds like easy work."

Cade: "..."

V: "What's the situation?"

Cade shook his head. "It's been a day. Nothing from Hands yet, but I get it. When I'm angry, I force myself to cool down too. Maybe our busy man is taking time to breathe and figure out how to get rid of me."

"I'll keep you updated on Dogtown. If anything comes up, I'll call you directly."

"Just make sure you can actually stay there. Don't let Hansen pull you out like a loose nail. I'm hanging up. Contact me if anything changes."

The call ended. Cade crouched near the Dogtown basketball court and watched locals play street ball.

This world had a strange sense of humor. One day, V would wait here for Reed. Cade, an uninvited guest from another world, sat in the same place and thought about how to survive.

He had spent the previous night in an unfinished building. Longshore Stacks was off-limits now. His current clothes would not get him spotted on sight, but Dogtown's Barghest hounds might have already connected to the NCPD database.

That system was no joke. It could identify you through almost any mask.

Except for one thing.

The Behavioral Imprint-synced Faceplate.

He still had no lead on it. He had even made a trip to the black market around the stadium, but every ripperdoc he asked had shaken their head.

No stock. And even if someone had one, it was not the sort of chrome you bought off a shelf.

[Message]

A prompt flashed across Cade's optics. The busy man had finally answered.

Mr. Hands: Impressive work, my friend. A merc willing to do anything would make a fine corporate hound.

Rook: ?

Cade stared at the message.

'What the hell is he talking about?'

Was Hands really that good? Could he casually dig through Arasaka's database?

Mr. Hands: Let us be direct. Your handler. I found him. Rook. R-O-O-K. Familiar name?

Cade's expression turned strange.

'That's me.'

What exactly had Hands found?

Or had V made the records too convincing, and now Mr. Hands truly believed an Arasaka operator named Rook existed above him?

This world, apparently, was held together by duct tape and overconfidence too.

Rook: Hah.

Mr. Hands: Silence will not erase the fact that you work for Arasaka, my friend. I knew someone like you had to come from somewhere. Tell your employer to stay away from me.

Rook: No.

It took Hands a long time to reply.

Mr. Hands: Bring your employer to me. We will talk in person. What he wants is money, reputation, and position. I can share those things, but there must be competition.

Rook: Sorry. You are not important enough to meet my employer. Here is a smart suggestion. Open the business up. You and I split it.

Mr. Hands: Where are you? We talk face-to-face.

Face-to-face?

Cade knew how this worked. Once online trash talk turned into phone calls, the next step was a real-world beating.

Hands's face was probably ugly right now. Cade would have to be stupid to go.

Rook: Do I look like an idiot? I am not the one taking the jobs. My boss takes them. I just follow along and earn a meal. What use is hitting me?

Mr. Hands: Fine. If your superior refuses to meet me, then he must be in Pacifica right now, yes? Business must be watched closely.

Cade almost laughed.

'Daddy is not only in Pacifica. Daddy is sitting in the backyard of your own club, watching people play basketball.'

Mr. Hands: Jobs still require mercs. Clean work, dirty work, it all needs people you can trust. Does he have any?

Rook: Yes. Me. Stop wasting time. Be smart. If there is work, send it to my boss, Rook. And remember, I can find your wife whenever I want.

Mr. Hands: ...You? One person cannot handle a serious job.

Rook: That is my employer's concern, not yours.

The other side kept typing for a long time, then went quiet.

Cade knew it was not humane, but as far as he was concerned, he had been generous enough by only taking a share of the business.

Hands had tried to keep him from living. Cade would cut off his money. Fair was fair.

The call from Hands came anyway.

Cade thought for a moment. There would be plenty of business details to settle, so he answered.

"I do not like your odds of operating here," Hands said. "Hansen will never let a corporation enter Dogtown. If you want to earn a living in this place, you need a calling card."

Cade hummed. "Where I come from, we call that a letter of surrender. If you do not have a record, if you have not made enough trouble for a corp, Dogtown's colonel will not trust you. That about right?"

"Since you understand, what does your superior want by sticking corporate paws into Dogtown?"

"Pay is too low. He wants Hansen burned. Obvious, isn't it? He hits Arasaka, Arasaka hits back. Normal business. So, dear Mr. Hands, you should keep this secret."

Hands exhaled hard through his nose.

"The business will not be easy to transfer. Better to send someone. I can share half my contacts with you, but who they trust is out of my hands. Do good work, and clients will trust you."

"Naturally, I will recommend my new clients to your side. As for convincing them, your superior must handle that himself."

"One warning. Do not make this too ugly. I can always retire and wash my hands of it. Your superior may not find it so easy to pull out."

Cade had to admit Hands had a point. If he pushed too hard and everything exploded, no one would benefit.

The old fox still wanted his cut. Otherwise, he would have retired long ago and fled California with his beautiful wife.

"Fine. I'll come in person. My superior agreed."

The call ended.

The time and place were set for Heavy Hearts tomorrow night. Cade had to go. By accident, Mr. Hands had finished the first step of Cade's flag-and-shadow routine for him. All Cade needed now was confirmation from V.

This was already nailed down.

Then, the calls refused to stop.

Cade had just been about to message V when an unknown call came through.

The voice on the other end was low, with some kind of filter over it. Cade could barely make it out.

"Are you... uh, Cade Mercer?"

"I am. Who's this?"

"Holy shit. You're actually alive."

"Were you hoping I was alive or dead? Who are you, and did manners get outlawed?"

The other end went quiet for a while.

"Longshore Stacks. I need you to come."

"Choom, if you think that zero-context line is enough to get me moving, you are dreaming."

Cade was ready to hang up. Night City was full of scam ads and AI sales calls. For all he knew, this was a prank.

"Who the hell are you calling choom? Forget it. Cade, I know this is sudden. But we are in deep trouble. Hansen's people are still chasing us."

"..."

"Fine. It's Rebecca."

"I know this is... bad, but I wanted to ask if Dogtown has another way out."

Cade's face became very interesting.

"What? You are still in Dogtown playing hide-and-seek with Hansen? Preem."

That was genuine. Cade never would have guessed Maine's crew was still trapped in Dogtown, running from a manhunt.

"How did you get my contact? And how do you know I'm in Dogtown?"

"Our crew's hacker is still in Night City. Long story. If you got back into Dogtown, you have a way in and out. Can you come? We'll pay."

Cade hesitated. Helping an edgerunner crew that Hansen was actively hunting was not exactly necessary right now.

Then a plan rose in his mind.

"I can. But the only reason I can operate in Dogtown is because I have a boss. So I'll ask whether the boss needs workers. Maybe you get a way out, a way back in, and some jobs on the side."

"The boss pays you. I do not take a cut. How does that sound?"

Rebecca obviously could not make that call alone. "Just come first, okay?"

"Fine. But once I arrive, I take that as agreement. If you change your mind before then, call me."

...

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