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Chapter 90 c
🕑 Added 2025-03-14 16:56:06 +0000 UTCChapter 90 c
As long as they followed the secret tunnel, they could sneak right up to the netrunner and take him out without raising any alarms. In other words, it sounded like a quick shopping trip—absurdly easy.
Rebecca, sprawled comfortably in her seat, already seemed to be counting the reward she was sure they would earn. Suddenly, she shot upright as if something had struck her.
“Wait a second, Leo—whose territory did you say this is?!”
“The Eden Gang. Some call them ‘Eden’s Gate.’”
Seeing Rebecca’s reaction, Leo frowned. “I don’t deal with Santo Domingo crews much. Are they famous? From what I remember, the biggest name in Santo Domingo is the 6th Street Gang, right?”
Rebecca scowled. Leo had rarely seen that look on her doll-like face.
“It’s not about fame. If you just look at their numbers and turf, the Eden Gang does seem like a third-rate operation. But if you underestimate them because of that, you’ll suffer. Even 6th Street won’t casually provoke them, not because they can’t win, but because once Eden latches onto you, it becomes a nightmare. Those brainwashed lunatics don’t fear death. 6th Street might chew them up in a fight, but it would end up losing a few teeth in the process. Then all the other gangs would see their chance to swoop in and take over Santo Domingo. That’s why 6th Street and Eden reached a strange sort of truce—so long as Eden stays on its own turf and doesn’t wander, 6th Street leaves them be.
“Anyway, Eden’s leader is a man named Joseph Seed. His followers call him ‘Holy Father.’ His personal influence inside the gang is off the charts. They’re all ready to die for him.”
Lucy, puzzled, turned her gaze on Rebecca, who seemed to know Eden’s history by heart. “How do you know all this?”
Rebecca waved a hand with surprising modesty. “It’s mostly data Sasha dug up. Our crew operates in Santo Domingo, so obviously we need to know the local scene. Besides, you know how it is with intelligence—if a fixer doesn’t get you the info, a netrunner will. Or maybe it’s the netrunner working for the fixer who collects that data in the first place.
“In any case, Eden’s people really are a bunch of lunatics. Dorio, back when she was in the Animals, went up against them a few times—both sides had their wins and losses. Actually, Eden’s members are just regular humans, not some super-soldiers or genetically modified monsters, but they don’t fear pain or death. They’re like cyberpsychos, except they still have all their faculties. That’s why even the Animals gave up messing with them.”
Leo slowed the SUV. A few hundred meters ahead lay the Eden Gang’s stronghold.
“So El Capitán found us a high-difficulty job, huh?”
He finally understood why El Capitán had looked beyond his own local mercs and contacted Regina in Watson for outside help. Even so, he had given them a base map and a secret tunnel. If everything went smoothly, they wouldn’t need to clash with Eden head-on. They could leave unscathed.
…
Coronado Ranch was a half-finished dream of suburban bliss that dated back to the mid-20th century. The brochure promised tree-lined streets, backyard pools, red-tiled roofs, and rocking chairs on every porch. It sat on the outskirts of the city, near the old Petrochem Dam and a giant landfill, on land converted from a dried riverbed. The pamphlet boasted of a “fully equipped paradise, complete with shops, services, and endless recreation, plus ready jobs at the factories in the next valley over.”
That vision never saw the necessary funding or commitment, though. Coronado Ranch ended halfway, turning into a run-down settlement built near farmland dirt and garbage dumps. Still, plenty of people chose to live there. Even a cramped, coffin-like house in this area was bigger than the tiny apartments in Night City’s megabuildings. Besides, whenever the city’s garbage AVs came to dump trash, locals often salvaged scraps, fixed them up, and either used them or sold them for profit.
…
Eden’s base was a network of six connected houses surrounded by a high wall. Gun-toting sentries patrolled the rooftops, and a line of barbed wire ringed the walls, sporting a sign in both English and Spanish: “HIGH VOLTAGE.” Despite the large size of the compound, there was only one entrance. Two armed guards stood at the main gate.
Observing from a distance, Leo wore a grim expression. “No wonder 6th Street won’t cross these guys. Their fortress is seriously fortified. Charging in head-on would be suicide.”
“What are we waiting for?” Rebecca muttered. “Isn’t there a secret tunnel? Let’s take that straight in.”
Leo reached over and placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Easy. You don’t want to rush in blind. I want to know what we’re walking into first.”
He activated his tactical goggles. A faint ripple of red light swept outward, invisible to everyone else. In scanning mode, he caught far more than with the naked eye—every sentry on the rooftop, every guard behind the walls, and even those deeper inside, whether resting, playing cards, or lost in braindances.
“Huh. The gate has more than just two guards. There’s also a hidden turret on each side of the wall. Looks like this ‘Holy Father’ doesn’t skimp on defense. The roof sentries don’t cover every angle, though, so their perimeter has blind spots. The patrol behind the walls is on a thirty-minute cycle—pretty long gaps, but guards in the courtyard and the rooftop watchers compensate for that.
“In other words, sneaking in by scaling the walls is pretty much out. Our best bet is using the tunnel El Capitán gave us.”
When the scan finished, Leo lowered his hand. “All right, I’ve learned what I can. Lucy, time to move.”
Lucy nodded. Ever since she had poured out her secrets and anxieties the previous night, she had recaptured her usual cool poise—just with a slight tenderness whenever she looked at Leo. She checked her gun one last time, then hopped out of the car.
Leo, glancing sideways, noticed Rebecca stepping out, too. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”
“You said ‘time to move.’” She blinked, baffled. “Why can’t I go, too?”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “Answer one question correctly and I’ll let you come with us.”
Rebecca planted her hands on her hips. “Shoot.”
“In our team, what’s Lucy’s role?”
Rebecca sized Lucy up. She saw no assault rifle or LMG, nothing heavy-hitting, so she gave a tentative reply. “She’s…a netrunner?”
Leo snapped his fingers. “Bingo.”
Rebecca beamed, proud of her quick answer. She cut him off before he could say anything else, as if she were buzzing in for bonus points. “Lucy handles electronic warfare, you’re the mission commander, right?”
Clapping lightly, Leo nodded at her perceptiveness, then posed the real question. “Exactly. Which means the next question is—Rebecca, what’s your role?”
That query seemed to catch her off-guard. The triumph on her face froze.
“Uh…heavy fire support?”
With a gentle smile, Leo shook his head. “No. Try again.”
Rebecca’s expression grew serious. For a moment, Lucy had to turn away and press a hand to her mouth, hiding a grin at the tiny-gilr’s desperate attempt to figure things out.
“If you’re the mission commander and Lucy’s the netrunner, I’m…definitely not the tech. So…?”
Leo spoke in a theatrically earnest tone. “You’re our driver. Your job is to secure our escape route. That’s why you’re staying in the car—understand?”
She nodded, looking like she almost bought it, though a hint of doubt lingered on her face. “All right, then…I guess I’ll handle our getaway.”
So Rebecca climbed back into the SUV, reluctantly watching Leo and Lucy walk away. Several seconds passed before she realized something was off.
“Wait a damn minute—this car has auto-drive and full navigation. Why do they need a driver at all?!”
…
Leo and Lucy were already too far away to hear Rebecca’s outraged shriek.
