Jose had worked with enough corpos to notice a trend. Not a hard rule but definitely a stereotype of sorts.
Arasaka were the classy pricks. They liked fine wine, needlessly rich food, and a metric fuck tonne of ceremonies with every single interaction that they busied themselves with. It nearly boggled a human mind to even comprehend how they stayed sane in that kind of environment.
Kang Tao was more down to earth. They were the kind who really liked Baba Park's establishment. They didn't mind slumming it in the slightest. These guys would be more than willing to enjoy noodles and soju until they were kicked out. All right for hanging out with but man did it suck to clear his schedule to accommodate them.
Biotechnica was fashionable, always wearing the best. They were also the ones who only ever ordered plain rice and vegetables at this place. It was like they didn't trust this fine establishment much further than that. At least, they were efficient with their proposals and money.
Militech?
Well, Militech had a certain old fashion charm to them. They were like the cowboys of those ancient western stories, gunmen fighting for truth and justice and all of that bullshit. At least, that's how Jose would've put it when he was trying his best to be polite.
Most of the time, they just came off as losers.
The man who sat across from him looked blue-bloodied and proudly American with a literal squared and steeled jaw. His cowboy hat rested upon the table, next to his cleaned off plate of gyoza and cabbage rolls. He grabbed a glass of synth whiskey and tilted it back, smacking his lips together as he sighed with absolute satisfaction.
``Now, this is the life,'' he murmured.
Jose smirked, poking away at his own noodles. ``Glad you approve.''
``Kind of makes me envious of the good old days,'' the Militech guy said, folding his hands behind his head. He looked around the establishment, taking in the mix of Ukrainian and Korean artifacts that littered the various walls. ``Back when America was on top, we would have places like this all over the goddamn country.''
Jose nodded. He didn't give a flying fuck about some bygone era of American history. Who had time for all of that when there was a ticket to Hawaii that he really wanted to buy. A ticket which he was only a couple thousand more eddies away from finally being able to afford.
``So, getting back to this contract,'' Jose began, pointing towards him with his chopsticks.
``Right, right, the contract,'' the Militech guy said, nodding to himself. He still scanned the room. ``Did you know that I used to fight down in Latin America?''
Oh god, not another fucking story.
``The contract,'' Jose tried.
The Miltech guy shook his head, waving him off. Clearly, he liked to set the tempo and wouldn't have it any other way. ``Was one of the units sent down there in order to try and secure the canal zone. That was the easy part but having all of those fucking cartels wanting to take a swing at us wasn't fun by any stretch of the imagination.'' He tapped a robotic finger against the table. His gaze flicked towards it, watching those aged but powerful servos whine. ``You won't believe it but that's where I got this nifty little accessory.''
``I'd believe it. It seems pretty retro,'' Jose commented. More like archaic but there was no harm in softening his language for the eddies.
``Eh, I don?t know about retro,'' the Militech guy said. ``It gets the job done and I can't complain about that.''
Jose drew in a breath. Now came the fun part of trying to focus him back on their fucking conversation. How would a cowboy put it? Breaking in a wild bull or something like that? ``So which corp are you sending my mercs after?''
``Arasaka,'' the Militech guy said, scoffing. ``Who else? Those thugs have held this city for too long and we want to see a bit of a shake up in its local politics.'' He winked at him. ``For the good of the NUSA of course. Got to make sure that the entire west coast gets the memo that we're the ones back in charge.''
``Well, I have a pretty diverse selection of mercs who have gone toe-to-toe with them before,'' Jose explained. Finally, they were back on topic. It took all of his willpower not to sigh. ``Are you looking to do some property damage or some people damage today?''
The Militech guy nodded. He looked like he was processing something, probably churning away with hardware in his brain that was as old as that fucking arm. Couldn't those damn yanks out east afford something a little better to replace it with?
``You know that the wars down south weren't acts of aggression on our part,'' he said.
Motherfucker... Think of the eddies, think of the eddies.
``Oh?'' Jose asked.
The Militech guy nodded. ``It was really a war of Latin American Aggression. We were simply defending the bodily autonomy of the average American. Those cartels were fucking with us by pushing cheap drugs to the people.''
``Uh huh,'' Jose grumbled.
``In fact, a ton of the locals actually saw us as liberators,'' the Militech guy went on. He picked up his bourbon and took another sip from it. ``Shame how it all went down in the end. Seems like we could've done some genuine good down there.''
``Fascinating,'' Jose said.
He didn't need a history lesson, he needed money. Why did Militech always make the most small talk in this game? If it wasn't for the zeros at the end of the cheque, he would've stopped taking their jobs eons ago.
It would've been worth it, if only to stop himself from having to hear this bullshit.
``We had better generals too,'' the Militech guy said.
Jose chuckled. ``Then why did you lose?''
Why did I just say that? Don't freaking engage with the topic! And especially don't say some gonk shit like that and risk getting under his skin.
``Great question,'' the Miltech guy grumbled. ``Probably because the fucking Eurotrash and Japs decided that they were a bunch of fucking pussies who wanted to weaken us through shit like that instead of taking us on in an actual honest war.'' He grinned and glanced out the window. ``I mean look what happened to Arasaka in the last one. We turned half their cities into radioactive slag and turned the other half into glorified slums.''
The last time Jose checked, the NUSA wasn't doing any better either. Hell, no one in the world was exactly doing peachy after that whole thing had finally wrapped up.
Jose gritted his teeth and just nodded. He just had to keep the conversation going. Eventually, the gonk would burn through his stories. Not even an old vet had a limitlessly reserve of memories from the war to call upon.
``But that's neither here nor there,'' the Militech guy mercifully said. It seemed that his banks were already running low as he instead motioned towards Jose with both of his hands. ``Thanks for putting up with my rambling.''
``You're welcome,'' Jose retorted. He occupied himself with his noodles, using it to mask his mild irritation.
``We're looking to cap one of the Arasaka executives who are operating out of this city. It's a senior management post, one of their department vice-presidents,'' the Militech guy explained. He looked around. ``Is it safe to talk about that here?''
Jose smirked. ``This place is neutral ground. No one is dumb enough to start shit here and expect to get away with it.''
This seemed to put the Militech guy at least a little bit at ease. He nodded at that promise and settled back into his seat, seeming just a little more comfortable being here. ``Guy is in charge of digital security for their R&D department. We're hoping that icing him prior to a software release might delay it for a little while, giving us a bit more time to fool around within their existing firewalls before they patch out the holes we've been exploiting. On top of that, getting access to whatever data is saved on his brain would be really fucking nice.''
Jose whistled. ``A department vice president isn't going to be cheap.''
``Well good for you, we've got the NUSA tax payers behind us,'' the Miltech guy said, winking at him. ``If you can get results, we can get you the eddies to cover them.''
Jose pondered this, folding his arms in front of his chest. In his internal systems, he started opening digital dossiers, flipping through the list of mercs he had worked with before. There weren't many who had the chops for this job, the willingness to do it, and still retained the pulse necessary to take a job in the first place.
Yet, he managed to sort out at least a half dozen candidates who might just fit the bill. Not ideal for haggling them down but it was still a promise that the job could probably get done.
He was about to say as much when Baba Park came on by. She had her hands folded behind her back, looking at the various tables like a teacher walking amongst students taking an exam. When she came to Jose's table, she narrowed her gaze at the Militech guy seated across from him.
She asked a question in rapid fire Ukrainian. The way she spoke ensured that only every third word got translated by his system.
``The food was delicious,'' Jose said.
The Militech guy nodded and patted his belly. ``Couldn't possibly eat another bite, ma'am.''
This seemed to please her as the faintest of smiles graced her otherwise weathered lips.
There was suddenly a flash from outside. It was quickly followed by a bullet cracking sharply against the window. It bounced harmlessly away, showing just how effective the bulletproofing was on this storefront.
That was just the Hayward special and it didn't even make the various conversations inside come to a stop. It was just the norm on these streets.
Baba Park just studied it for a moment, shaking her head. She went on in Ukrainian, lamenting how far the community had fallen. At least, that's what Jose assumed she said as whole strings just came up in a strange language his robotic brain couldn't possibly process and his organic brain didn't know in the first place.
Something which the Militech guy also seemed to pick up on as he nodded along. ``Don't you worry, ma'am. When we get this place back under...''
Jose internally groaned, cradling his brow between his forefinger and thumb. Think of the eddies, think of the eddies!
There was a second flash and another bullet struck the glass. It hit with enough force that the pane actually cracked against the impact of it. Now, that was strange. One bullet was an accident but a second was something to be concerned about.
It had a way of silencing the room like nothing else could've. Everyone froze and turned to look at the damage which had just been inflicted. The fear was real, palpable, spreading like a bad chill through the air.
There was just a chip in the otherwise sturdy glass. Yet, that chip was still there, showing that there was a weakness in the design. And a weakness could be exploited.
``Who makes your glass, Baba Park?'' Jose asked.
Baba Park narrowed her gaze. ``Militech.''
Oh no...
As if on cue, a frantic burst of fire slammed into the storefront, cracking sharply against the glass over and over again. Each impact chipped it further and further. Soon, proper cracks started to form, webs of damage which sprawled further across the design.
It was all happening so quickly, barely any time at all for someone to possibly react to it.
``Get down!'' Someone shouted from across the room.
Jose's body reacted quicker than his brain, clearly liking the idea. He scrambled out of his chair, falling to the floor.
As he was midair, the glass finally shattered and a rapturous cry of gunfire slammed into the establishment. He covered his head and cringed, watching as bullets rattled against various tables and plates, exploding Korean and Ukrainian food, along with decor and furniture.
It wasn't just property that was damaged either. The slower denizens were cut down by the fire, torn to shreds by whoever was lighting this place up.
Sadly, there weren't many people who were slower than an old Ukranian-Korean lady. A bullet struck her and then another after that. It was enough to finally get her off her feet, sending her crashing to the floor. She landed with a heavy and sickening thud.
Even worse, more than a few rounds caught his client. Blood and gore ruptured from his body. Unfortunately, one of those stray rounds went cleanly through his skull and turned his brain into a fine red mist.
That wasn't the kind of wound that a person survived, even with Trauma Team coverage.
FUCK! My eddies!
The fire died down just as quickly as it had started, leaving behind this eerie silence which hung heavy upon the room. No one spoke. It was like they were terrified that doing so would somehow invite the gunman to come around again and mow the rest of them down.
It was a bloodbath and the air gained a coppery tinge to it as a result. That was the kind of odour that made Jose's stomach retch.
Jose looked around the store.
While his prospective employer had been taken out, it seemed that the target was actually a table over. The remains of the suit that was seated there looked like they were made out of synthetic Swiss cheese instead of flesh.
Jose saw Baba Park. The old woman was somehow alive. She was clenching her brow as she held a hand over her wounded hip. He crawled towards her, pushing up and hovering above her body. This wasn't his field of expertise but he wasn't about to let his favourite chef just die
At the very least, he had the power of the web, pulling up webpages that talked about how to stop someone from bleeding out.
``This first aid tutorial is brought to you by Factor! Factor is the...''
What a great way to learn that his ad block had finally stopped working! Wasn't technology just magical?
He grabbed a napkin and applied pressure to her other wound. Didn't they do that in the movies? Clearly, the movies had to know what they were talking about.
``You're going to be okay,'' Jose whispered, looking around the establishment. As if he fucking knew that. He wasn't a doctor or some shit. ``Is anyone here a doctor.''
``He was,'' a voice croaked, pointing to the figure who had been turned into Swiss cheese.
Great, just fucking great.
There was the sound of engines whooshing, coming to a noisy stop just above the street outside. It would seem that Trauma Team was as quick as ever, opening fire on whatever gonk had decided to shoot up this little shop.
Not that it took them very long to mow them down. A couple seconds at most. Just like it had taken that asshole a couple of seconds to tear this place to absolute shreds.
Fat lot of good that this reaction would do them, considering that the corpo's brain was everywhere else in the room aside from inside his own freaking skull. They could gold card that shit all they wanted but it wasn't going to save his life.
But Jose guessed that wasn't really their concern. They just needed to seem effective, not actually be effective. As long as they arrived in five minutes or less, it didn't matter what state they took the guy away in.
Boots hit the ground outside, voices shouting commands to one another.
As if the bullets hadn't done enough, those gonks plowed straight through the front window, storming inside while screaming orders to the denizens inside. There were four of them on the team. Two were training submachine guns on the room at large while the other duo was holding a stretcher.
``Hands where I can see them!'' one of the grunts barked, motioning with his gun.
No one seemed eager to be a dipshit as they all stuck their hands high into the air. All of them except for Jose who was still applying pressure to Park's wound.
``Are you deaf, gonk!'' one of the grunts barked. ``Get away from the VIP!''
Jose blinked and looked down at Baba Park before looking back up at the Trauma Team goon threatening him. He dipped backwards, flinching away from the gun that was now pointed square in his face. Any courage he had was gone as he threw up his hands.
He then watched as the stretcher team started to put Baba Park upon it. They worked effectively, applying first aid to the two bullet wounds which now marked her person.
What the fuck...
The stretcher pulled away and the grunts stepped backwards, fanning their guns at the room as if searching for any targets amongst the shellshocked customers. As they left, one of them called in over the radio. ``Platinum Card VIP has been secured. Prep emergency surgery facilities, there are two gunshots.''
Platinum coverage...
``What the fuck is platinum coverage?'' Jose whispered.
Just as quickly as they showed up, the team was gone. That was when he realized that the Militech corpo was still a misty corpse with plenty of his brain plastered all over the place; including plastered on Jose's clothes.
``Fuck me,'' he whispered, shuddering as he felt that sticky warmth. ``That gonk was going to pay out of his ass.''
Catherine dipped out of the back, looking around the place. She seemed just as shellshocked as him, blinking as she took it all in.
``Where did Baba go?'' she asked, moving over to the table.
Jose shook his head, gesturing fruitlessly through the air. The last couple of minutes were an actual blur, a highlight reel that played out in his mind. How did someone even begin to explain what the fuck had just happened. ``Trauma Team showed up and mentioned that she had platinum coverage.'' He let out a breath, releasing just a bit of that tension in his shoulders. ``I didn't even know they did platinum coverage.''
``That makes sense,'' Catherine said. She looked at the Miltech guy and shuddered. ``Some Arasaka suit mentioned taking care of her because her noodles were so good.''
``Wait, she has health insurance?'' Jose asked, perking up.
Catherine nodded. ``Yeah. He didn't want anything to happen to her.''
``Huh,'' Jose whispered. ``But platinum coverage?''
``He really likes them,'' Catherine replied, nodding.
``Guess that makes sense,'' Jose said.
He shook his head. Like fuck it did!
Catherine sighed. ``Any chance you know someone who knows how to take care of bodies.''
Jose nodded. ``Yeah, I uh... I got a body guy.''
``A body guy?'' Catherine asked, lifting a brow.
``Yeah, he...'' Jose gestured fruitless through the air before instead cradling his face within his hand. ``He does something with them. I don't really bother asking too many questions or else I start to feel guilty. But I know a body guy, I'll...'' He looked down at his shaking hand. It was like a truck hit him as suddenly all that adrenaline fled from his body. Holy fucking shit! He'd nearly fucking died! ``Just give me five minutes and I'll make a call, okay?''
Catherine nodded. ``This place is a wreck.''
The front door opened and fell off of its hinge, crashing to the ground. Much like the rest of the glass, it shattered into about a billion different pieces.
Jose looked over, seeing Anastasia standing there with a crate of groceries in her hands. She was wide-eyed, surveying the damage with the purest form of shock that he had ever seen on another person.
``What the fuck happened here?'' she yelped. ``I was gone for like ten minutes!''
