September 3, 2067
Alex Mitchell (Volkov) POV
"You ready?" I asked V, who was eyeing the container in my hands with open skepticism.
"No, but it's not like I have a choice, do I?" He shrugged and took the storage unit filled with nanites from me.
Two weeks ago, I'd already fed his old suit to the nanomachines and injected him with the serum. Physically, it hadn't changed him much — just a slight boost in height and muscle mass.
"Alright, suit up. Time to field-test the functionality. Sure, you got through most of the prep thanks to my suffering, but that won't save you from having to calibrate the armor to your body."
"Not even allowed to complain, huh?" V rolled his eyes and popped open the container, revealing his brand-new reactor.
"It's several times more powerful than the last one," I said, answering his unspoken question. "Oh, and one more thing — " I tapped a reinforced finger against my chest, right where my own reactor was embedded. "Once the suit compacts, the reactor stays in your chest. I haven't figured out a workaround for the power source yet, so you'll have to deal with a slight inconvenience. At the end of the run, you'll need to remove it manually and put it back in the container. But I doubt that'll take you long."
"If things ever went as smoothly as you say, life would be way too easy, wouldn't it?" V smirked as he finished gearing up, leaving the helmet off for now.
"Fit's solid, and the color already adjusted to the surroundings — didn't even have to tweak it manually." I circled around him, inspecting the suit from all angles. "You're already familiar with the old Atlas, so the upgraded model shouldn't give you too much trouble. Our objective is to reach the Northern California border at max speed. Stay as low as possible — the closer to the ground, the better."
"Trying to mask the heat signature?" O'Brien caught on immediately.
"Exactly. Best not to make ourselves too visible right now." I gave a firm nod before launching into the air.
Initializing secure communication channel…
Channel established — connection stable…
"Can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear," Vincent responded.
"Keep all communication on the internal channel. No connecting to the public net while in flight."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I came prepared." He snorted, sending me a batch of screenshots — looked like he'd preloaded his playlist in advance.
"Good for you. Now let's move."
Flying was second nature to me by now. After an entire summer of training, both V and I had racked up plenty of hours in the air. Going on a suicide mission without proper preparation was, unsurprisingly, actual suicide. We both understood that. So we spent every free moment pushing ourselves, sharpening our combat skills.
Repulsor and laser weapons had proven their reliability. But until now, we'd only tested them on small clusters of Stilettos — raider outposts positioned far enough from our base to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. Killing anyone too close to camp was a bad idea. In those cases, we just forwarded the intel to John and let him decide how to handle it. Usually, the elder O'Brien rounded up his old guard, suited up in my discarded exoskeletons, and wiped out the raiders — picking off anything valuable in the process.
As for the Drifters — the ones outfitted with my advanced stealth systems — they thrived in the wastelands, especially at night.
"V, you see that convoy at ten o'clock?"
"Yeah."
"What do you think they're hauling through the wasteland in broad daylight? And on two Behemoths, no less?"
"Something real damn important if they're avoiding the federal highway." V's voice carried a smirk.
"No shit, genius. Look, change of plans — we tail them and see where they're headed. They're not going far. If this were a long-haul transport, they'd have way more security than just a couple of armored APCs and a single Basilisk."
"You just can't help throwing yourself into trouble, can you?" V groaned over comms.
"Buddy, we're in the same boat, so suck it up and play nice." I rolled my eyes, keeping a cautious distance from the unmarked vehicles. "Stay a few hundred meters back. If shit hits the fan, hold your position and wait for my signal."
"Copy that, Alex."
Trailing a convoy wasn't just exhausting — it was nerve-wracking. Even worse, we were working under tight conditions. They could drive for hundreds of kilometers before stopping for a rest. I'd seen it before on clan missions. In situations like this, corpos didn't leave witnesses. Back then, we were far enough away to slip through the cracks. Call it luck.
Would we get that lucky again?
"Alex, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" V asked, his voice edged with surprise as he highlighted a new convoy on our shared map. This one was even larger than the one we were tailing.
"Looks like we just stumbled onto an off-the-books deal." I eyed the new procession of vehicles, curiosity creeping in.
We didn't have to wait long. Within minutes, the two convoys met. As soon as the vehicles came to a stop, a handful of people stepped out from each side, their expressions all business as they closed the distance.
Like hell we weren't going to listen in.
V and I adjusted our positions, keeping a safe distance while tuning into their conversation.
"You're late." The suit was clearly irritated, tugging at his tie in a poor attempt to steady his nerves.
"Had to take a detour off the main route," the man opposite him — Asian — replied in Mandarin.
"Looks like we've got a big fish on the line," Vincent murmured over the internal channel.
"I'm thinking Kan-Tao," I said. "Lately, the Chinese have been sticking their noses where they don't belong. And that kind of trend makes me uneasy. Sooner or later, they're going to piss off someone who actually matters. The USSR is already sharpening its knives for its so-called 'Asian partners.'" I let that last word drip with sarcasm.
"Doesn't matter. Let's see the merchandise first."
The moment the corpo finished speaking, the Chinese man snapped his fingers. One of the trucks opened up, revealing a disassembled piece of tech I didn't recognize.
The suit raised a hand, and with a nod of approval from the Chinese rep, one of his guards stepped forward, heading toward the Behemoth. A minute later, after a thorough inspection, the soldier returned.
"The cargo checks out."
"Excellent," the nervous-looking blond with a badly dyed fringe nodded in satisfaction. "Your payment…"
At his cue, the Behemoths cracked open, revealing cargo containers stamped with a very familiar logo — Arasaka.
"Well, well, look what we found," V snorted. "Who would've guessed another megacorp was behind the stolen shipment?"
"Not exactly shocking." I shrugged mentally. "Only they have the resources and pull to hit a rival corp and make the evidence disappear. Once again, my theory checks out."
About three weeks ago, John had reached out, asking me to dig up any city intel on a missing shipment. Back then, O'Brien had assumed Militech was behind it.
Before I could say anything else, a message from Vega popped up on my quantum relay.
"Alex, I've detected an anomaly nearby. Someone's trying to hide something."
"V, looks like one of these players isn't planning to play fair. We've got company."
"And here I was, starting to worry." V smirked as he received the image I sent — an approximate location of the presumed ambush. The worst part? The interference on the map made it impossible to tell who was hunting whom.
The rest of the exchange went down smoothly. Both sides played their little diplomatic dance, showering each other with empty pleasantries before going their separate ways. The Chinese handed over the Behemoths to their own drivers, who took control and rolled out with the rest of their convoy. As for the corpo suit? He led his group straight toward the ambush site.
"So, the Chinese don't plan on playing fair?" V shook his head, stepping out of stealth in a narrow crevice. "What's the play? Let things unfold as they are, or clean up whoever survives?"
"We finish the job, obviously. Ping your old man — tell him to bring the mules and a few haulers. There's gonna be a lot of scrap."
New connection detected...
A couple of minutes later, John's voice crackled over the line.
"Alex, what the hell is going on? My son sent a message, but he left out the details. Said you'd explain."
I shook my head, throwing a look at junior O'Brien, who was doing a very convincing impression of someone who wasn't involved.
"That sneaky bastard."
Turning back to the comms, I laid it out.
"Long story short — corpos made a deal, but one side, likely Kan-Tao, doesn't plan on paying up. Right now, the suits are walking straight into an ambush. They've got no chance of making it out alive. We're planning to mop up the leftovers and claim the spoils. Think we can make use of some extra scrap and tech?"
I could practically hear John rubbing his temples.
"Alex, tell me — why is it that every time you cook up some high-tech bullshit, you end up knee-deep in trouble?"
"It's a gift."
"Right. Well, saying no isn't really my style, but let me warn you — assembling a crew takes time. My son sent your coordinates. We're looking at a three-hour trip. Until then, you're on babysitting duty."
"You know us. We'll handle it." I made a solemn vow, earning yet another heavy sigh from John.
"Just don't do anything stupid. We'll be there soon…"
"John gave the go-ahead. We wait for the fireworks to die down, then clean up the leftovers. Try to go easy on the tech — hack it or use low-impact weapons where possible. As for the people? Feel free to unload a grenade launcher on them if it makes you happy."
"So we wait." V shrugged — then immediately took off into the air.
I rolled my eyes and followed, tracking his heat signature as he ascended.
We caught up to the convoy fast — just in time to see the ambush kick off in full force. The attackers had set up near a small canyon, a solid spot for an operation like this. To my surprise, the corpo squad was putting up a decent fight.
The Basilisk positioned at the rear had hunkered down behind two armored APCs, using them as extra cover against enemy fire.
"Not bad," V mused, perched atop a rock formation as he watched the chaos unfold.
"Yeah, but the problem is, they're outnumbered. The Basilisk is burning through ammo fast, and once it's dry, they'll be overrun." I pointed at the tank — it was already firing less frequently. The gunners were rationing their shots, but that wouldn't save them for long.
"Looks like that happened sooner than we thought," V smirked as a grenade slammed straight into the Basilisk's cannon, shattering it in a fiery burst.
"We wait for them to poke their heads out, then finish the job. No point in cracking open tin cans — our guys won't thank us for that."
"Agreed," Vincent replied, activating his stealth system again.
The last remnants of resistance were wiped out within minutes, and as soon as the dust settled, V finally made his move.
"Looks like it's time."
"I see it. Let's keep it clean."
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