[One hour after meeting with El Capitan]
Ky and Miz wasted no time in getting back to Watson. Instead of going back the way they came, they avoided the rush hour traffic by cutting past the Biotechnica Farms in the Badlands and passing through Pacifica. Nobody traveled those roads if they could help it, especially with Dogtown becoming a full-on war zone since Arasaka's fall. Bennett no longer had access to 'Saka tech and resources, and his control over area had waned. Finally in late 2078, a rival faction rose up, leading to an all-out bloodbath with no end in sight.
Miz had split off as soon as they got back to the garage. She wanted to get a good workout in before the job. Ky had to admire her discipline and routine; it reminded him of his days as a fly-boy. The day of a job, she would always put in a heavy workout, build up a good sweat, and then sit outside apartment 0716 for a while to center herself and get ready. Max had told him all about it after the Waterfront job, and it made perfect sense, all things considered.
Ky enjoyed the walk back to H10 in peace and quiet, plus it gave him a chance to make a call he'd put off for too long.
The holocall pinged, with Pops' voice answering, "Well good mornin' cowboy. How'd the ride and the meet go?"
Ky answered, "Hey hoss, it went good. Reyes is out of the fixer game, but he has a small gig for us that could lead to other things. I'll bring it up with the crew in a few."
Pops replied, "Okay, so what's up?"
Ky swallowed a knot in his throat. He probably had nothing to worry about, just like Miz said; but in this moment, he was the most nervous he had ever been when talking to Pops. After several seconds of silence, he said, "I, uh... I got something I need to tell you, Pops."
Pops cut him off, "Now, if you're goin' to break up with me, you ought to know I'm old fashioned. We can do this face to face."
Ky chuckled nervously. He found his footing and decided to just come right out with it, "Max and I are an item. You deserve to know."
Pops asked bluntly, "Do you think it's affected your ability to perform in the crew?"
Ky was not prepared for that frank of a response as he answered, "It's been two months, have you noticed a change?"
Pops chuckled, "Not at all. Which is good. So... what are you so nervous about?"
It dawned on Ky, Miz was right. Even though he knew she probably would be, the realization hit him like a truck. He actually had nothing to worry about. Still, he had to ask, "So, you're okay with it?"
Pops reassured him, "For what it's worth, y'all have my blessin', and I'm happy for both of ya."
As always, Pops was the cool and understanding father-figure everyone wished they had. For hundredth time in talking to Pops, Ky ended the call with, "Thanks... Pops."
Ky pinged another call; this time Max answered, likely having just woken up, "Mmrf, bonjou papi."
Ky smiled, "Hey, I uh... I just talked to Pops... about us."
He could hear Max shoot upright as she asked, "Wat 'im say?"
Ky answered, "He's happy for us. Miz figured it out on her own, said we had nothing to worry about, so I took a chance."
A second of silence before Max said, "Mmm, t'was bound to 'appen sooner o' later. Fo' da best. Now, get over 'ere and keep me warm."
The call dropped, and Ky's eyes lit up with a bright smile as his pace quickened.
--
Billy had dozed off on his couch. Thanks to Miz's encouragement, he pushed himself harder than he ever had; he broke two personal records. Naturally, it took a lot out of him. A dull rhythmic thud invaded his dreams, pounding and persistent. It didn't take long for the thud to come into focus as he shook himself awake. Someone was banging on his door. That was unusual; he had to wonder if Tooley's goons were given one last job to end him?
He grabbed his Liberty from its holster as he got up from the couch and stepped toward the door. Standing in the entryway, he cocked the hammer before a familiar voice spoke, "Dude, drop the gun and open up, ya gonk."
Billy's entire body sighed with relief; it was Miz's voice. He de-cocked the hammer and waved the door open, trying to hide his blush.
Miz stared up at him with no inflection; he was used to this by now. She was wearing a sports bra and gym shorts, bag slung over her shoulder. After a few seconds, she finally spoke, "You shower yet?"
Was this a test? Billy quickly realized he was still wearing his gym clothes. He cautiously answered, "I have not..."
Miz continued, "Good. Coach Fred's in five. Gotta see how well you can fight."
Billy asked, "Who am I fighting?"
Miz narrowed her eyes. After a moment, she said, "Me."
Billy chuckled as he fired back, "Hard pass. I saw what you did to Pops. I like my head attached to the rest of me."
"I'm not going to kill you, Tiger", Miz gently chided as she pointed to the bottle of tequila on his table, "I uh... I kinda like having you around."
Billy blushed so hard he thought his face must have looked like Miz's threading when she was pissed off. Miz took notice and gave him a smile and a playful punch in the chest, "Come on, let's go."
He had a bad feeling about this. He never had any formal hand-to-hand training; he had just naturally learned to brawl over the years of getting into fights back in Rancho. But hell, if anyone was going to kick his ass, he'd rather it be someone he cared about; someone he trusted. He grabbed a fresh towel and was out the door.
Fred had taught Billy a few basic things since he moved into H10, but that was mostly just cardio movements to balance out the weightlifting. It wasn't anything on par with Miz. She was a hardened contender with years of experience. He couldn't help but blush thinking if he got his ass handed to him well enough, maybe she'd stick around to take care of him? He snapped back into reality, laughing at the absurdity of that idea.
As they walked down the hallway, he admired her natural sway just as he had earlier that morning. Miz called back to him, "Stop staring at my ass."
He fired back, "Then walk with me, not in front of me. Hell, it's nothing I haven't already seen."
She stopped and turned to Billy, her jaw clenched. He continued, unshaken, "Or are we just never going to talk about what happened the other day?"
She looked down, a smack of regret on her face. Not at having sex with him, but with how cold she'd been since. She collected her thoughts for a few seconds before speaking, "You saved my life. Twice, you stuck your neck out for me. That means something."
Billy pressed her, "A simple thank you would have been fine. I haven't been able to get you out of my head since then."
Miz finally looked up and met his eyes. He could see the sadness as she spoke, "Look, there's something here, between us. I... I'm just not good at this stuff. It's hard for me to open up, but I want yo—"
He cut her off, "You've been through some shit. It's none of my business until you decide it is, but I can tell in the way you fight, the way you fuck, the way you do everything. You're detached, unhinged. A person doesn't get that way unless they've stared death, or worse, in the face."
Miz's eyes began to cloud over as her voice broke, still in absolute disbelief that she was sharing any of this, "It was worse. A lot worse."
Billy took his chance and grabbed her hands in his, catching her off guard as he reassured her, "Look, I'm not asking for the whole story now. Maybe never. But I just want to know if I'm chasing a dream here, or if it's real."
In a fluid motion, Miz broke his grip, freeing her hands to pull him down for a hug as she spoke into his ear, "It's real. I... I just need time."
With that, she planted a peck on his cheek and let go. She gave him a smile as she turned and kept walking, "Come on, let's go."
Billy asked bluntly, "Can I stare at your ass, now?"
Miz blushed a bit as she turned and looked back, "Knock yourself out. At least before I do."
They both shared a laugh as they arrived at the edge of Fred's mats. He looked up from inspecting a wound on someone's face and his eyes went wide with worry as he shouted, "Oh hell no, Miz! He's just a pup!"
Miz shouted back, "If I'm going to train him, I have to see what he knows first! Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
Fred rolled his eyes, tossing a clean pair of gloves over to Billy as he said, "Good fucking luck, kid."
Billy chuckled nervously as he strapped the gloves on; Miz did the same from her side of the mat. Fred stopped tending to the wounded fighter and stepped into the middle of the mat to give his usual spiel, "Y'all know the rules. Bump gloves; Miz, just don't kill him, please."
Billy held up his gloves, Miz bumped them with hers as she gave a wink and a cheeky smile and said, "No promises."
Fred washed his hands of the situation and went back to his wounded fighter. He hoped Miz knew what she was doing.
She called out to Billy, "I want you to try and hit me. Don't hold back. I won't counter; just dodge and deflect, okay?"
Billy nodded as he took some sort of a stance, bringing his fists up in front of his face. Miz loosened up, her left hand calmly down by her waist, but ready. Her right hand dutifully protected her face, forearm and elbow guarding her right side as she bounced between her feet, light as a feather.
Billy made his approach, and Miz caught his first mistake; no footwork. He was firmly planting the full weight of each foot on the mat, giving no room for improvisation or recovery. It was clunky at best, dangerous at worst. His body was protected by both arms, but he was too rigid, too mechanical.
They danced around each other for a minute, Billy trying to find his opening. Every move Miz made was a carefully calculated response to his. He thought he had an opening, and he led with a heavy right hook. Miz noticed his second mistake; he swung from the shoulder. Slow and predictable, she juked back, deflecting the punch with little effort, using the force of the block to sidestep to his now unprotected right side. His ribcage was begging for a jab, but Miz restrained herself.
Billy slowly recovered, turning to face Miz as she said, "Swinging from the shoulder is powerful, but it's also slow and predictable. Your opponent will always see it coming way ahead of time. It's a good finishing move, but your first strikes should be quick and subtle to knock them off balance."
Billy nodded as he flashed back to the Waterfront job. Pops, being nearly twice his size, had disarmed and knocked out two scavs in mere seconds, moving with the grace and precision of a hummingbird. He flashed back to the present and took notice of Miz's footwork; she was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, heels never once touching the mats. He followed suit, leaning forward on the balls of his feet, his ankles breaking from the mat as he moved back and forth. Miz smirked and said, "Ahead of the class."
Billy watched for another opening, careful to keep his guard up in case Miz went on the offensive. He remembered an old-world "kung fu" movie he watched as a kid. The hero in that movie would often strike with an open palm or the back of his hand as opposed to traditional punches. He took a chance with a quick jab, following up with a left cross. Miz deflected the jab down and caught his cross; he thought he had her as his deflected jab turned into an upward elbow. Miz expected a counter and caught the elbow. She stepped forward, launching her shoulder into his collarbone as she swept his legs.
In the blink of an eye, he was on his back. Miz was standing over him, arm extended as she said, "I didn't strike you."
After a second, he reached out, hooking his arm around hers as she pulled him to his feet. He tried to take advantage of the opportunity with a wild flurry of swings. It was undisciplined but powerful. Miz blocked each strike, quickly losing patience with ignoring every opening for a body strike. She found an opportunity to teach him a lesson as he led with a heavy left jab; she blocked the blow with her left hand, deflecting down in a crescent motion with her right. She stepped into him, crossing her left arm under his right and jerking up and forward. Billy's world began to spin as his feet left the mat.
Everything went black for several seconds, until Billy realized he was face down on the mat. He tried to push himself up as the light returned, but something was digging into his back.
Miz knelt victoriously over his body, her knee planted between his shoulder blades as she giggled, head cocked, and said, "Really? You thought that was a winning move?"
Billy laughed into the mat, "I thought I had a chance."
Miz lightly tapped the back of his head, "Ya gonk. Good thing you're cute... sort of."
Fred stepped onto the mat, clearly agitated, hands on his hips as he called out to Miz, "Uh-uh! No more! You want to box, you can box! No more of this judo shit on a rookie!"
Miz knew Fred wasn't joking; she hopped to her feet, freeing Billy to get up from the mat. He pushed himself up to one knee and looked up at Fred as he spoke, "I can take it, Coach."
Fred didn't care as he fired back, "You got a thing for pretty women beating up on ya, sort that out on your own time. I'm not watching her mop my mats anymore."
Miz knew when Fred was pissed, and this was rapidly approaching one of those times. She threw her gloves off and helped Billy to his feet, pulling him off the mat. As they faced each other, she looked up in his eyes with a smirk as she helped him remove his gloves and said, "We got a lot of work to do, but I think Fred's at the end of his patience with me."
Billy blushed as he looked into Miz's eyes and asked, "So... what do we do?"
"Let me see if I can talk to Vik", Miz reassured him, "I know he still trains over at the NC Devils Club; he might be able to help."
Billy smiled, his hands free from the gloves; he took a chance and gave Miz a hug and said, "Thanks for all of this."
It was a good thing he couldn't see her face. She was bright red and bit her bottom lip as she reciprocated and said, "Sure thing, Tiger."
--
[12:00, the same day]
The whole crew had been called to the lockup by Pops to discuss the upcoming job. They all agreed that until Tooley was dealt with more permanently, crew-wide holocalls to discuss business inside H10 was an unnecessary risk. In fact, idle time inside H10 period was an unnecessary risk. His influence over South Watson had been weakened considerably, but H10 was still his turf; he still held sway.
The lockup was bigger than Billy had expected. Two separate garages sandwiching a central room, with a small warehouse space in the back. There was also a second floor, with several cots, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and other amenities. Pops owned the entire property lock, stock, and barrel, and had been using it as a weapons stash prior to bringing together his H10 crew. They still used the warehouse space to stash weapons collected from jobs before Wilson could swing by to inspect and purchase in bulk.
One garage held Miz's and Ky's motorcycles, the other garage held the crew's getaway truck; a heavily-modified Chevillon Emperor. Nobody liked to bring it up, but it was the same Emperor driven by Falco when he was running with David Martinez's crew in 2076. It was a final parting gift to Pops to memorialize the good times they had shared over the years. For obvious reasons, the truck was re-fitted with all new body panels, and the roof-mounted turret had been removed entirely. It still retained the "dually" rear axle and front ram bars. Ky loved driving the truck, but it wasn't without a heavy heart and respect. He knew what that truck meant to Pops, and he silently prayed every time he got behind the wheel that he would bring it back in one piece.
The central room was exactly what you would expect. A small table with a few chairs in the corner; a ratty, old, and yet unbelievably comfortable couch against the wall, next to a mini-fridge loaded with "bare essentials", Pops' code word for beer. In the middle of the room was a large pool table that doubled as the crew's planning area. Ashtrays were strewn about on account of Pops' and Miz's smoking habits.
As chance would have it, smoke hung heavy in the air, being blown around by a ceiling fan over the pool table. Pops had stepped away, grabbing beers for everyone from the fridge. The other four edgerunners stood around the table, looking at a holographic birds-eye view of Arroyo. Manipulating and annotating the map, Ky explained the job, "Okay, so this gig comes from Reyes... El Capitan... on behalf of an anonymous benefactor to be revealed later... if we pull this one off."
He zoomed in on the map, everyone leaning forward to observe as he continued, "This here's Megabuilding H6; there's a large concentration of 6th Street Gangers using the block as a base of operations for expansion. Apparently gunrunning ain't cutting it anymore. They're trying to muscle in on neutral territories for protection rackets."
Miz cut in, "Muamar's pissed about this, but he's kind enough to the folks in Santo to leave them alone if they don't want his protection. 6th Street's not as understanding, at which point he has to step in. It's bad for business otherwise."
Billy spoke up, surprising everyone, "Reyes has let them run guns in his territory for years, as long as they behave and stay out of his way, and as long as he gets a taste. Usually everyone's copacetic; every once in a while, though, you get some hothead with more balls than brains. Brass balls at that."
Pops walked up, holding beers in between his fingers as he handed them out. As Billy reached for one, Pops playfully pulled it back with a smirk, "You sure you're old enough? Time's I remember when 21 was still the legal drinkin' age."
Billy narrowed his eyes with a smirk as Pops handed him the beer anyway. He clinked bottles with everyone around the table, taking a swig to let Ky continue, "This is exactly the problem. Reyes is officially out of the fixer game. He's just boostin' and protectin' now. He's tried to talk to this particular club owner before, but the guy wasn't interested. When 6th Street started causing trouble, the guy knew Reyes probably wouldn't, or couldn't help him, so he reached out to someone else as a proxy."
Miz cut in again, "According to Reyes, the gangers are coming in at least once a week, demanding pay for protection; when the club refuses, they trash the joint. We have it on good authority they're coming back tonight during a big show. Couple of bands and DJs playing."
After another swig, Billy asked, "Where is this place?"
Ky stepped in, "It's the Red Dirt."
Billy's eyes lit up, "Wait, THE Red Dirt?! Off Farragut and Hargreaves?"
Ky laughed, "Christ, not another Samurai fan."
Billy looked down, to which Ky cut him a break and said, "Woah, hey, I didn't mean... you know... you like what you like, right?"
Miz noticed, there was a genuine worry on Billy's face as she said, "I, uh... I don't think this is about the band, Ky..."
After a few seconds, the look in Billy's eyes turned to fire as he finally answered, "The Red Dirt... that's where my mom works. She's the night shift bartender and floor manager."
Everyone looked at Billy for a few seconds. What do you say to something like that?
Miz placed a hand on Billy's shoulder, "When's the last time you spoke to her?"
He answered, "Right before the Waterfront job. She didn't mention anything. Why didn't she mention anything?"
Pops spoke up, "A mother doesn't want to put her only son in danger. Find a fault in that logic."
Billy downed the rest of his bottle, quietly signaling to Miz for a smoke. She obliged, reaching up to crank the fan higher to air out the room.
Taking a long drag, Billy said to Ky, "I'm sorry for cutting in, keep going."
Ky looked Billy in the eye with sincerity, "Man, look, if you need a minute, we got lots of minutes. This is heavy news, I'm sure."
Billy shook his head, taking another drag, "No. We'll deal with it. It won't be a problem after today. Keep going."
Miz nodded to Ky, and he obliged, "Okay, so the gig is simple. We convince 6th Street to stop bothering these fine folk from which Billy gets his arguably beautiful blues."
Billy flashed a middle finger to Ky and smirked.
Ky smiled and continued, "Reyes had a few of his guys tail these jarheads last time. Looks like they roll in on-foot with a three-man crew, but keep a van waiting nearby with another five or six bodies in case things get hairy."
Miz cut in again, "Like if the bar brings in some huscle."
Ky again, "Exactly. Now, the big question on everyone's mind, I'm sure, is pay. And that's the shitty part. Reyes is funding this one out of his own pocket as an investment in landing a protection deal with the Red Dirt, but also for giving us an in with his mystery fixer. Offer on the table is five thousand eddies per head. Considering our newest member's mom is involved, I feel safe speaking for all of us when I say this is a fair offer?"
No words needed to be spoken. Everyone was in silent agreement. Pops leaned forward, his brow furrowed as he lit a cigarette. After a drag, he spoke, "Show starts at 20:00. We'll want to scope the place first, get a feel for any complications might arise. We'll cut out of here early, plan to get there around 19:00. I'll park up in a corner, keep eyes on the inside; Ky and Max on overwatch from the outside. Miz and Billy will join later. Be cool about it. As far as everyone's concerned, Billy's just droppin' in to say hi to his mom, introduce her to Miz, maybe catch a show."
Ky and Max both looked at Miz with a smirk as she rolled her eyes and blushed. Ky quipped, "Man, things are getting serious, huh?"
Miz fired back as Billy chuckled, "Oh fuck off, man."
Pops continued, smiling, "Alright, usual's usual. Max, think you can rig the van?"
Max finally spoke, her eyes flashing blue, "Wi bosmang. Dey pull up, can hack de controls, wreak some havoc. A little burnout fo' each o' dem."
Ky quipped again, "God, you're sexy when you do your netrunner shit."
Max rolled her eyes and gave Ky a playful shove as she took a sip of her beer. Pops chuckled, taking another drag as he stepped away from the table, voice trailing off, "Okay, we got some time to kill. Let's get Wilson in here to clear out stock. We're due a little scratch from our last haul. Miz, go get ready, and someone get Billy some proper attire."
Billy perked up and said, "W-what do you mean?"
Ky laughed, "No offense kid, but tac pants and black t-shirts ain't really the rockerboy look. We got to get you looking fresh. Should have some threads around here to fit the mold."
Billy laughed and nodded, wondering just how fucked he was with Ky pulling the reigns. Miz stamped her butt in an ashtray, heading towards the garage to make her way back to H10. She was blushing; even though it was all for show, she felt nervous at the notion. Before leaving, she turned back to Billy, a smile on her face; Pops noticed, and chuckled quietly to himself as he pinged a holocall to Wilson. It was time to get paid.
--
[16:00]
A rhythmic, heavy-handed knock reverberated against the garage door, setting everyone on edge. Pops walked over, signaling all-clear. He recognized the pattern. Still, his hand was cupped on his holstered revolver as he hit the button to raise the automatic door. A sigh of relief, he pulled his hand away, holding it out for a handshake. Wilson was standing alone, smiling wide like a kid at Christmas as he returned the handshake. He stood a whole foot shorter than Pops, his tonnage not helping his case. He was balding on top, thin hair running down to his shoulders. His round face was framed by a handlebar mustache. His old bomber jacket was spotted with holes and tears, his t-shirt in similar disrepair. His skin-tight jeans looked at least a size too small, covered in grease stains, as his belly hung way over. He reeked of stale cigarette smoke and gunpowder. Pops surmised it had probably been a good day as he spoke, "Heya Bob."
Wilson answered, his voice deliberate, "Good to see ya Pops. Better have some preem product, man; I closed up two hours early to meet ya."
Pops waved him inside, giving a wide berth as he closed the door behind him. Wilson waddled through the garage, eyes looking everywhere for his new toys. He caught sight of Billy, Ky trying to help him into a skin-tight pair of syn-leather rocker pants; it was a losing battle. Wilson quipped, "Hey man, dinner and a show? You know I don't roll that way."
Pops and Ky both laughed as Wilson continued, "No seriously, who's the pleb?"
Pops answered, "Newest member of the crew. Billy Barrett. Billy, meet Robert Wilson."
Wilson nodded, "Heya kid, Bob Wilson. If you need iron in H10, I'm your man. Come see me at the 2nd Amendment on Level 7. Just... don't come in lookin' like that. Bad for business, ya know, waltzing in looking like one of Tooley's joytoys."
Ky laughed and fired back, "Hey, at least he's not wearing skivs with little hearts on 'em!"
Wilson flushed, "That was ONE TIME, man!"
Ky cut him off, "A day that lives in infamy. I still have nightmares about it."
Wilson gave him a middle finger as Pops stepped in, "Let's step into the office and talk, shall we?"
Wilson's eyes were still locked on Ky as he spoke, "Y-yeah, let's do that."
Ky was giggling to himself, Billy thoroughly embarrassed at the whole situation; so much for first impressions.
Pops swung open the door to the warehouse, directing Wilson to step through. The shelves were meticulously maintained, gun racks holding all makes and models in all colors of the rainbow. Wilson wished his shop was as clean and organized as this, but he had enough trouble just keeping gonks on the range from shooting themselves, or others, in the foot. He whistled as he pulled a cigarette out and lit it, taking a deep drag. He turned to Pops, "Ya had a good haul, I take it?"
Pops nodded, lighting his own cigarette as he answered, "Waterfront job was highly profitable. Cleared a warehouse of 15 scavs, plus a surprise party of Maelstrom. Guns a-plenty."
Wilson sucked his teeth as he surveyed the racks, leaning down to inspect the inventory, "Well, they're clean. No serial numbers by the looks of it. Been serviced?"
Pops nodded again, "All brushed, buffed, and greased. Ready for action."
Wilson nodded, "Usual price? I can take half today, do the other next week... maybe."
Pops smirked and said, "You can take it all today and not have to see Ky for another couple of weeks."
Ky called out, "Hey, I heard that!"
Wilson laughed, "Yeah, promises. Nah, sales have been slow since Tooley's huscle cleared out. Heard you put a hurtin' on him."
Pops exhaled smoke through his nostrils, "Just business 's all. He made his bed, we tucked him in. What happens next is on him."
Wilson turned to look at Pops, concern on his face, "You got a plan for that?"
Pops answered, "One day at a time, friend. You know how it is."
"Yeah, I do", Wilson stroked his mustache, "So half today?"
"Fine by me, brother. Let's get you loaded up", Pops smiled as he called out, "Hey, once you two are finished playing grab-ass, we could use some extra hands!"
Wilson laughed, and Ky's and Billy's laughs trailed in from the other room; all in good fun.
--
[18:00]
Billy was upstairs in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. He wasn't used to seeing his hair spiked up, held together by some globby substance Ky had pulled from a drawer. Might as well have been axle grease, for all he knew. He bent and leaned, trying to stretch and acclimate to the syn-leather pants. There wasn't much room to move, even less room to breathe. His crotch felt suffocated. He didn't mind the tanktop, though. He had to admire the syn-cotton wrapped tight around his muscles. Hands on the sink, he flexed his arms and smiled.
His train of thought was broken by the sound of the garage door opening downstairs, followed by Ky exclaiming, "God damn!"
In a moment of panic, Billy grabbed his Liberty and racked the slide, moving to the stairs. He carefully made his way down before his heart skipped a beat and his eyes went wide.
Miz was leaning against the pool table, arms crossed, but he took a second to recognize her. Her undercut, normally wavy and hanging past her shoulders, had been back-combed into locs, forward swept into short bangs hanging over one side of her head. Her scalp was freshly shaved, with wavy lines cut into a woven pattern. She sported black winged eyeliner with a soft pink eyeshadow, and black lipstick. She was wearing her signature Night City jacket, a black bandeau top underneath. Her skin-tight black syn-leather pants left nothing to the imagination, disappearing into a pair of high-top punk sneakers.
Billy tried to swallow the knot forming in his throat as Ky ribbed him, "Yo, take a picture, man. It'll last longer."
Miz's eyes cut to Billy. She slowly unfolded her arms, placing her hands on her hips as she smirked, "Eyes stuck?"
He stuttered, unable to find any words. She looked down and blushed. It wasn't her intent to throw him off his game like this, but it felt nice to know she looked this good.
Pops walked in from the warehouse and gave a loud whistle as he saw Miz, lightly applauding her, "Well done, Em. Hell, gangers might get distracted and forget why they showed up in the first place."
"Yeah, that's totally what I was going for", Miz laughed as she looked back to Billy, "Hey, pick your jaw up off the floor. Cleaning service charges extra for drool."
Billy laughed nervously, trying to find anywhere else in the room to look, but his eyes kept darting back to Miz.
Ky stepped in, "Yeah, this is cute and all, but we might have a small complication."
All eyes turned to Ky and he signaled to Max, "Been doin' some recon wit' de drone. Gig like dis, dey have bouncers checkin' fo' weapons at de door. Won' be able to sneak past wit'out raisin' alarms."
Ky continued, "Right, so a small crew on-foot like they've been dealing with probably won't be armed, would cause too much fuss. But if shit hits the fan, be hard for one guy at the door to stop a fully armed six-man bum rush. We keep seeing the same van passing by, casing the joint. Marked all to hell with 6th Street colors. Thermal shows six bodies; one driver, front passenger, four in the back. Likely that's our support crew."
Pops stepped in, "So we'll drop our iron in the truck, stick to CQB only once we're inside, if it comes to that."
Miz scoffed, "You know it will. Jarheads love a good brush-up."
Pops continued, "We'll need to be careful. Can't give the ground crew any idea of what's up, or they'll call for help."
Ky laughed and looked at Miz, "Guess you better crank the charm up to eleven, huh?"
She fired back in a sing-songy voice, "I'm going to hurt you."
Max cut in again, breaking into a rare cheeky smile, "As long as de van is nearby, can hit de engine wit' a hack, force dem out in de open, den dwop a burnout. Watch dey heads go pop."
Miz took her shot at Ky, "Man, you're in a world of hurt if you ever piss her off."
Ky smiled as he planted a kiss against her forehead, "Don't I know it."
They all realized Billy wasn't read in yet, but he'd probably pieced it together. He showed less surprise than they would have expected. He tried to play it cool, "What, y'all didn't already know?"
Ky called him out, "Yeah, right. Bullshit."
Billy laughed, flashing a wink at Ky. He was catching on quick.
Ky continued, "I'm telling ya, man, new guy keeps this shit up, he's going to be awful dangerous. Handsome, smart, and quick with his tongue?"
Pops spoke up with a smile, "Okay, so we got a plan. I'll take the first round, keep an eye on things. Billy and Miz will follow behind me, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. Max and Ky do what they do best. All in all, should be a straightforward gig. A li'l rowdy-dow and a show."
They all nodded in agreement and went about their business. Ky called out to Billy, "Hey, to finish your rockerboy look."
Billy looked to where Ky was pointing at the couch. An old high-collared rocker jacket with the sleeves removed was laid out. It had clearly seen better years, and was covered in all sorts of patches and pins. Ky continued, "Yeah, man, once upon a time, this ol' gal and I were inseparable."
Billy took his shot, "Is that why it reeks of some other guy's piss and cum?"
Miz nearly choked on her cigarette, gripping the table as she laughed. Pops just shook his head and chuckled, resigned to staying out of it. Ky glared at Billy before a smirk and a chuckle as he said, "Hey look, you got another jacket to fit the bill, I'll toss this one back in the drawer."
Billy laughed and made his way to the couch to grab the jacket. Miz stopped him for a second, her hand on his stomach as she reached up and whispered in his ear, "You don't look half bad yourself, Tiger."
His skin-tight pants now felt even tighter.
--
[19:00]
The truck rolled to a stop at a red light on Mission Street, one block down and over from the Red Dirt. Pops signaled to Ky to pull off to the side; better to approach on foot.
He clicked off his shoulder holster, holding it in his hand for a moment. Ky called back from the driver's seat, "Don't worry hoss, we'll make sure she's right here waiting when you get back."
Pops chuckled as he handed the holster over to Ky, who placed it safely in the center console. It was no mystery that Pops was attached to his Malorian. He'd carried it since before anyone else on the crew was even born. It was as much a part of him as his organic eyes were. Miz followed suit, unstrapping her Unity from her thigh and handing it to Ky, followed by Billy with his Liberty. Ky quipped, "Man, is it Christmas already, or do I get to pay our fave 2nd Amendment franchisee a visit for some quick scratch?"
They all glared at him as he laughed. Pops pushed open the tailgate, hopping down and turning to look at Miz and Billy. A crew-wide holocall pinged, and Pops spoke, "Comms check."
All four edgerunners gave the all-clear, and Pops smiled. He locked eyes with Billy and said, "Your mom will be proud of what you're doin'."
Billy smiled, looking down at the floorboards of the truck. Not really having known his own father, he wondered what it would have been like growing up with Pops at the helm. Hell, Miz turned out well enough, all things considered, and they'd only been together for seven years.
Pops called out to Ky, "Keep makin' rounds, but don't make it obvious."
Ky gave a two-finger salute in the rear-view mirror as he spoke, "Already got my perch all nice and picked out, hoss. Walk safe."
Pops lit a cigarette as he took another look at everyone and smiled, "Be seein' ya soon."
He started down the sidewalk, his step cool and calm; just another walk in the park. He glanced down at the river flowing between Heywood and Arroyo, the polluted stench rising up to invade his nostrils.
Ky pulled back into the road, cutting left across several lanes to turn onto a surface road running parallel to the highway. Billy looked up at Miz, meeting her eyes. She gave him a slight smile as her face threading pulsed soft pink for a split second. He returned the smile. Her head began to bob with the beat of the radio as she looked out the window; it was set to 89.3 "Radio Vexelstrom", with the Cartesian Duelists' "Resist and Disorder" thumping through the truck.
The sun was setting behind the Night City skyline as they passed the H4 Megabuilding. The pollution mixed with the twilight created oddly beautiful shades of red and brown as the night sky slowly took over.
Pops spoke up in the holocall, "Just walked in. You do not want to mouth off to the bouncer at the door."
Miz asked, "You get into it with him?"
Pops chuckled and answered, "Mm, not me. Some young punk got in his face reeking of booze. Bouncer dropped him flat on his ass."
Ky chimed in, "That could be useful, when the time comes."
Billy spoke up, "Best flash him a smile on our way in."
"Not a terrible idea", Pops continued, "Y'all can make your way here whenever. I got my seat in the corner, goin' to grab a drink."
"Pace yourself, hoss. I'm not carrying your drunk ass home", Ky quipped, "Yeah, I'll drop the lovebirds off a block down at Valley and Hargreaves, then take our overwatch position."
Miz rolled her eyes at Ky. Billy audibly groaned.
The truck pulled off to a stop short of the Hargreaves intersection on Valley Street. Ky looked back from the driver's seat to Miz and Billy and spoke, "Now, you kids keep it holy, ya hear? No drinking, no dancing, definitely no holding hands. God's watching."
Miz shook her head, "Hey Max? I'm going to need my gun back."
Max answered, "No' if I shoot 'im first."
They all shared a laugh, and Ky continued, "Seriously, be safe out there. We'll be watching for ya."
Billy opened the tailgate and hopped down, holding out his hand for Miz to help her down. She blushed and smiled, taking his hand, "Such a gentleman."
They both turned and looked to Max and Ky. Billy spoke up, "Stay safe, guys. See ya soon."
He closed the tailgate and they crossed the road to the sidewalk. The truck slowly rolled away, making the left turn onto Hargreaves Street before disappearing among the other cars. They looked both ways, crossing to the far side of the road and continued walking. Billy waited a step, moving behind Miz to the street side of the path as he held his arm out. She smiled and placed her arm in his as she joked, "May as well look the part, right?"
A few steps later, Miz found herself unconsciously pulling towards Billy, the distance closing between them. It was nice, to just walk with someone, enjoying the relative quiet. After a few seconds, she caught Billy looking over at her. She blushed and said, "W-what is it?"
He smiled, "I just really like what you've done with your hair."
She scoffed, "Yeah, it was an impulse thing. Going to be a bitch to maintain, though."
Billy asked, "So what happens if you decide in a few weeks you don't want to deal with it anymore?"
Miz made a buzzing sound as she answered, "Have to start fresh. Buzz it all down."
Billy thought for a moment before speaking again, "Hmm. I don't know many women that could pull off that look, but I think it'd look good on you. Kind of a hot warrior babe thing, ya know?"
Miz giggled, "More like a Maelstrom psycho. Or I could just get syn-hair implants and be done with it."
Billy again asked, "Have you ever done that?"
She shook her head, "Nope. All 'ganic, all my life. Minus the dye."
The quiet around them was short-lived as they crossed Brandon Street, the crosswalk signs repeating the obtrusive, "WALK, WALK, WALK", before switching to, "DON'T WALK, DON'T WALK, DON'T WALK". The rumble of loud speakers began to reverberate down the street, mixing with the sounds of a crowd forming in front of the Red Dirt and around the corner. Still no signs of a 6th Street van anywhere. Clouds of smoke pooled together, rising above the crowd as Miz and Billy approached, carefully navigating around the clumps of people to avoid bumping into anyone.
As they rounded the corner, Billy had a realization; he knew the bouncer. A muscular and sizable man with a dark complexion, aged in his late 30s. He was wearing gray cargo pants bloused into old combat boots with a high-collared multilayer aramid vest spray painted in bright colors. Billy called out as they approached, "Hey Clay!"
Clay looked over, his eyes widening as he answered, "Hey, squirt! How've you been? Man, you've grown up!"
They reached out for a handshake, Miz letting go of Billy's arm for this charming reunion. After a few seconds of small talk, mostly Clay sizing up the "squirt", Billy turned motioned her forward as she introduced them. She smiled and shook Clay's hand firmly; he seemed impressed with her grip. He turned back to Billy and asked, "Hey, your moms know you're coming?"
Billy winked and shook his head, "Nah, wanted to surprise her."
Clay looked back at Miz and said, "Heh, yeah I'll bet. Hey sorry, but rules is rules."
He was holding up a wand, motioning for them to raise their arms. Billy could probably have charmed his way past it, but they had nothing to hide, so he didn't push his luck. He scanned clean, being mostly fully 'ganic anyway. Miz stepped forward, and Clay waved the wand over her. No weapons, but the wand beeped as it passed over her right arm. Her eyes narrowed with a sharp sigh. Clay's eyes flashed blue as he scanned her up and down. After a few seconds, he spoke, "Girl's got some serious hate in her right arm. Mantis blade by the looks of it."
Miz took a chance, "It's an emergency bottle opener, that's all."
Clay laughed at the confidence she had in making that comment. He leaned in to both of them and spoke firmly, "Look, normally it'd be a no-go. But Billy's family. Keep that tucked away, and we won't have any issues. Y'hear?"
Miz nodded, "No trouble from me, unless Prince Charming over here gets handsy."
Billy glared at Miz before Clay defended his honor, "Not that type of guy. Go on, enjoy the show."
They all shared a smile and a short laugh as Clay opened the double doors, motioning them inside. As they walked past, he couldn't help but catch a glance at Miz's sway. She noticed, but didn't say anything.
The inside of the club was immediately familiar to Billy. Red and green neon lights mixing with smoke and fog in the air, the smell of stale cigarettes and dried alcohol permeating throughout. The walls were covered in chipped paint in some spots, simple bare brick in others. There were several small bar tables with stools scattered throughout, several wrap-around couches built into the walls. On the other side of the bar was a pool table where someone had already struck up a game. The stage was already lit, with one of the opening acts doing a soundcheck and setting up their gear while the radio blasted over the PA system. Pops was parked in a dark corner, enjoying a glass of whiskey and making casual conversation with a waitress, his eyes keeping careful watch of everything going on.
As Billy and Miz made their way to the bar, she looked over at Pops casually with a subtle eyebrow nod. He gave a subtle wink back. The only open stools were split between an older man in a frayed cowboy hat. He turned and noticed the "young couple" approaching, grabbing his glass and shifting down to give them a pair of stools next to one another as he tipped his hat with a kind smile. While the Red Dirt was known as a legendary rocker bar at night, it still served as a beloved local watering hole for the salt-of-the-earth working class types native to Santo Domingo.
As they took their seats at the bar, an attractive older woman in a denim shirt and syn-leather pants turned to greet them. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a long and luxurious bang having escaped and hanging over her face. She had a bar towel draped over one shoulder, and she kept a bottle opener in an elastic armband for easy reach. Her left arm was cybernetic from the elbow down, the black and red plating bearing Arasaka markings. Her eyes went wide before she could say anything, and Billy smiled wide as he said, "Heya Mom!"
She nearly reached all the way over the bar, grabbing at Billy and pulling him in for a hug as he groaned, the bartop digging into his ribcage. Miz giggled lightly at the whole exchange as she took her seat. Ky was absolutely right. Billy definitely got his beautiful blues, and his hair, from his mom. She looked as though she hadn't seen Billy in a lifetime, not wanting to let him go. He gave another groan, and she unwrapped her arms and pulled back with a big smile. Her voice was strong, but kind, as she shouted a flurry of questions over the music, "What are you doing here?! How have you been? Are you eating enough? Can I get you some food? Can I get you a drink?"
Billy had to butt in before she ran out of air as he said, "Mom, Mom. Mom! One question at a time. Come on, breathe!"
By this point, Miz was covering her mouth, her cheeks red as she tried to not laugh out loud. It was a losing battle. His mom finally took notice, looking over at her as she said, "Hello? And who is this darlin' young thing?"
Billy laughed nervously, his cheeks beat red with embarrassment as he answered, "Mom, this is Mi—"
Miz cut him off as she stuck her hand out, "Hi! Mizuki. Miz for short."
She hadn't used that name in almost five years. But here, in this moment, with these two people, she felt strangely safe, almost warm. His mom took her hand in a firm grip as she answered, "Miz! Pleased to meetcha! I'm Olivia! Liv for short."
Miz smiled as they shook hands. Liv continued, "I, uh... so what can I get y'all to drink?"
Billy deferred to Miz, who answered like an old pro, "I'll take a Johnny Silverhand."
Liv gave a smile and a side-eye as she turned to Billy and said, "Oof. Girl knows her stuff. What about you, honey?"
Billy answered plainly, "Take a Broseph, please."
Please. You wouldn't expect that in a place like this, but Billy was careful to mind his manners in front of his mom. She raised him as such. Miz didn't doubt for a moment that Liv would raise cane otherwise. The rest of his mannerisms started to fall into place. He was raised right.
Liv went to work, cracking open a Brospeh Lager and handing it to Billy before masterfully crafting a tequila old-fashioned with a splash of cerveza and a chili garnish. She turned to Miz and slid the drink across the smooth bartop. Miz caught it with her hand, Tipping the glass forward as a cheers before clinking it against Billy's bottle. She took a sip, her eyes wide and rolling back in satisfaction. Liv laughed as she followed up, "Yeah, probably not as good as Claire makes at the Afterlife, but I do what I can."
Miz was quick to reassure her, "It's preem. I've also never been."
Liv leaned forward, placing both her hands on the bar with a certain authority as she said, "Oh sugar, you have to go!"
Miz smiled and took another sip as Billy swigged his beer sparingly. They were still on a job, and he still felt too green to start really celebrating the moment.
Liv's eyes narrowed and darted back and forth between both of them. After a few seconds of careful observation, she asked, "So-o-o... Billy... are y'all...?"
Miz placed her hand firmly on Billy's with a light squeeze, "We're figuring that out..."
Billy blushed as Miz looked at him with a smile and continued, "But uh... so far it's looking up!"
Liv cracked a huge smile. Another customer called over, and Liv excused herself for a moment, leaving them to their drinks.
Billy gave a deep sigh of relief as he said, "Well, that was awkward."
Miz nearly choked on her drink, "Yeah, you think?!"
They sat quietly for a moment, letting the ambience wash over them. Miz had always wanted to come here, but never had the chance. She could only imagine what it was like to have seen Samurai take the stage back in the day. To Billy, it was just old hat. When he was much younger, he often spent a lot of late afternoons and evenings sitting at the end of the bar doing his homework while his mom worked, at least until someone was able to pick him up and get him home for the night. She worked hard to make sure he was cared for, but that also meant she wasn't always around. She tried, and he knew it. They always had a strong relationship because of it.
Miz took another sip of her drink as she admired a polished metal fixture above the bar. She noticed in the reflection one of the patrons at the pool table staring daggers at Billy. She leaned into him, gently nudging his arm. As he turned to her, she signaled with her eyes to the fixture and said, "Be cool, don't turn around. That guy at the pool table's been staring at you since we sat down."
"Might be he just knows me?", Billy joked, "This is my backyard, after all."
Ky pinged the holocall, "Hey hey hey, beautiful people. We got movement. Our gangers' van just dropped off two bad guys on foot at Hargreaves and Brandon. They're heading your way."
Pops spoke up, "Good lookin' out, Ky. Keep eyes on that van, let us know what happens."
Max chimed in, "Wi, already go' eyes on de stweet cameras."
Then Miz, "I think one of our local color is already here, playing pool. Won't stop staring at Billy; not repping any 6th Street gear, though."
Finishing with the other customer, Liv came back to Billy and Miz and asked, "So, what brings y'all around here?"
Billy answered, "Work, actually. Got a job in the area, heard there was a killer show on tonight."
Miz cut in, holding a cigarette, "I'm sorry, but may I...?"
Liv nodded, grabbing a clean ashtray and placing it in front of her, "Go ahead, honey."
Miz was never this polite. Ever. But something about Liv brought it out in her. She wanted this woman to like her. What the fuck was happening?
Their conversation was cut short as the double doors opened, followed by two 6th Street gangers walking in.
In the fixture's reflection, Miz saw a reaction from the patron staring down Billy. Gotcha, ya gonk.
Liv's face shifted from joy into panic as she turned to Billy and Miz and said, "Y-you should g-get out of here. Y-you don't need t-to be here f-for this."
Billy placed his hand firmly over his mom's hand and gave a gentle squeeze as he spoke calmly, also opening the channel in the holocall, "Mom, I'm right where I'm supposed to be. This is exactly why we're here. You don't have to worry anymore."
Liv shook her head in confusion, "W-what are you talking about, Billy?"
Billy smiled and answered, "Reyes gave us this gig, told us what's been going on here. It ends tonight."
Ky spoke up in the holocall, "Wasn't this kid having a fucking panic attack just a few days ago at the mere thought of betraying his fuckhead idiot boss?!"
Pops jumped in with a proud smirk, "You don't fuck with family."
Miz realized in this moment, everything she admired about Pops as a father figure is exactly what she admired about Billy as a potential partner. In this singular moment, it all came together for her. She had never felt both so safe and so turned on at the same time. It was actually to Billy's benefit that they were on the job and in public. Moreso on the job, if it really came down to it. She giggled at the thought before snapping herself back to focus.
One of the gangers called out loud enough for everyone to hear him, clearly inebriated, "Well, well, well. Y'all havin' a party and we weren't invited? Tsk tsk tsk."
The other ganger called out, "Tch, yeah! This is what we get for servin' our country?!"
They both stepped forward with impunity, one of them speaking again, "We come for our protection dues! Who's the lucky winner today?"
Billy squeezed Liv's hand and shook his head. Miz paid the gangers no heed as she took another drag of her cigarette, followed by another sip of her drink.
With no answer, the ganger's lost some steam, but one of them still yelled out, "Guess we'll just make ourselves at home until we get what's ours! Hope we don't get impatient!"
The pool table patron nodded his head at both gangers, signaling them to approach. Billy turned to face the bar, blocking himself from view. He looked in Liv's eyes and gave her a kind smile as he spoke, "Mom, may I please have three shots of Centzon and another Broseph?"
Miz nearly choked on a laugh at the sheer tone of his voice. He sounded like a child asking for a glass of milk, but she knew he was trying to keep her calm and distracted. He continued, "And, I'll hang on to the empty first bottle for now."
Liv obliged, confused, as she grabbed three shot glasses, a bottle of tequila, and another beer from the cooler. Miz kept a watchful eye on the patron and the two gangers as they talked amongst themselves. He was definitely eyeing Billy as he kept pointing directly to him. Whether or not they wanted to, this was going to come to a head pretty quickly.
Billy placed one of the shots in front of Miz, holding another one up and signaling for a cheers. She raised the glass, clinking it against his, and they both knocked back the shot. Billy no longer had the sharp sigh after tasting tequila, Miz was impressed.
One of the gangers turned toward Billy and called out, "Well, if it ain't little Billy Bitch! The fuck you been, man?!"
The other ganger slammed into the bar next to Miz, leaning into her. His breath reeked of O'Dickin Whiskey as he answered, "Actually Blaine, I think the bitch is this one right here... so baby, you ever thought of gettin' with a real man?", as he grabbed his crotch.
Miz kept her eyes forward as she fired back loud enough for all of them to hear, "That government-issue Mr. Studd doesn't make you a real man by longshot."
The ganger teased back, "O-o-oh, kitty got claws!"
Miz extended the nails on her left hand with a metallic scrape as she turned to answer him with a raised eyebrow, "You have no idea."
The ganger kept pushing, his speech only slurring more, "Man, what I wouldn't give for those to dig into my back."
Miz held up her right arm, flashing a middle finger as the RealSkin platelets separated just enough to show the blade concealed inside, "Yeah? And what about this one?"
The ganger's face showed some discomfort and he backed down. Blaine stood eye to eye with Billy as he spoke, "You should have stayed gone, Billy Bitch. You're in a world of hurt comin' back here."
Billy smirked as he took a swig of his second beer and spoke, "I'm not looking for trouble, Blaine. High school was a while back. I'm just here for a drink and a show with my girl."
Miz blushed at being called his girl, but maintained her composure. Blaine wanted to press him, but the pool table ganger called them both back as he locked eyes with Billy. There was no emotion in his face. Both of the other gangers retreated, joining the third around the pool table and keeping to themselves for a minute as a waitress brought around a tray of beers for them. A small concession for a moment's peace.
Liv spoke quietly, "Billy, I-I don't want you getting hurt. These guys don't mess around."
Billy took another sip of his beer as he winked, "Neither do I."
Ky quipped in the holocall, "No but really, who the fuck is this guy? Oh, by the way, we got eyes on the bad guys' van. It's literally parked across the fucking street, man. I can't make this shit up."
Miz asked, "How long have you been sitting on that nugget?"
Ky answered, "Literally just pulled up as I was mouthing off."
Pops spoke up, "Can you tag the van from there?"
Max answered, her eyes a flurry of blue, "Already workin' on it. Thermals show five bodies inside. Can hack de van, will need a moment to recover RAM to dwop burnout on all five at once."
Pops smiled, "Open fire when you're ready."
Outside the bar, Ky kept a steady eye on the van. He had a suppressed Unity at the ready in case anything went awry, but he had every faith in Max's abilities. This was child's play for her. Her eyes returned to their natural brown as she said to Ky, "Van wi' pop any moment."
Without a doubt, the van's engine turned over, redlining almost immediately until it blew. With a flash, smoke poured out from under the hood and into the cabin, forcing the gangers out for fresh air. A few seconds passed as Max watched her RAM recovery rate carefully.
Ky shouted in the holocall, "Ah shit, we got blue eyes! Someone's broadcasting."
Inside the bar, Pops noticed the pool table ganger's eyes flashed blue for a moment as he said, "Good for us, it's a closed circuit to one of his buddies in the bar."
Max's eyes flashed blue again, as she cut to each of the five gangers, resting on them for a second. She began a count-down in Creole, "Senk, kat, twa, de, en..."
All five gangers' heads arced with electricity like tesla coils, followed by plumes of smoke from the ears as the bodies dropped. Max had a devious smile on her face. Ky couldn't help himself, "God, that's hot."
She spoke up again in the call, "Ou'side all clear."
Pops called out, "Yep, pool player's spooked. Keep your eyes peeled at the bar."
The pool table ganger signaled to the other two. Blaine turned to the bar and started yelling again, "Alright! SOMEONE is going to get us our fucking money, right now, or we will TEAR this entire place apart!"
Billy turned and said, "Nobody's giving you shit, gonk."
Miz's eyes went wide with surprise and she turned, ready to step in if needed. Blaine stepped forward and got in Billy's face as he fired back, "Oh yeah? And what the fuck is Billy Bad-ass going to do about it?"
Ky in the holocall, "Called it."
Billy smirked, raising his last shot, "I'm going to have a drink."
He knocked back the shot, dropping the glass as he spat the tequila in Blaine's face. He reached behind for the empty beer bottle with his left hand, swinging it around and shattering it against Blaine's head, bracing the other side with his right hand.
Blaine's body dropped, the glass pieces stuck in his face clinking against the concrete floor. The second ganger stepped up and took a heavy hook swing from the shoulder. Billy ducked, stepping to the side as he caught a wild haymaker, countering with a solid punch square in the ganger's solar plexus. He finished with a boot in the chest, launching the ganger into the pool table with a crunch as his ribs collided with the solid wood trim.
The pool table ganger reached into his jacket pocket for a rebreather and put it on. With a deep inhale, his eyes began to glow bright green as he exhaled a thick vapor. Miz stepped in front of Billy as she said, "You want to get down, now!"
Miz looked to Pops' corner seat, but he was nowhere to be found. The third ganger was ramping up to bull-charge her, his arms becoming a blur from the Slo-Mo in his system before a heavy jerk on his collar pulled him back, feet flying into the air. A heavy forearm came down across his chest, knocking him into the floor. Pops appeared over top of him with a fist reared. A solid strike to the face broke both the rebreather and the ganger's jaw, leaving him in a pool of blood and green-tinted spit.
Everyone waited for all hell to break loose, but it never came. The music, soundcheck, and other noises aside, there was calm in the air. Nobody bum-rushing the double doors, nobody flying in from the kitchen. It was done.
Ky of course broke the silence first, "Hey, what the fuck just happened in there?!"
Miz wasn't quite sure, but she answered anyway, "Uh... nothing. Literally. Billy handled two of the guys on his own; the third was amped on Slo-Mo, but Pops took care of him... so... is that it?!"
Billy didn't waste any time; he grabbed Blaine by the collar as he shouted to Liv, "Get Clay in here, please!"
He turned back to Blaine, a gurgling mess of blood, as he slammed his head back against the floor to grab his attention, "You still in there, Blaine?"
No answer, Billy slammed him again, "Answer me, you fuckin' gonk!"
Blaine choked on his own blood as he spoke, "T-the fuck do you want?!"
Billy pulled him up, meeting his eyes as he said, "I want you to go back and tell your boys the Red Dirt is off limits. El Capitan sends his regards."
Clay swung open the double doors and called out, "What's up, squirt?"
Billy dropped Blaine back on the floor as he stood up with a smirk and said, "Just need an extra set of hands taking out the trash is all. Pops?"
Pops stepped forward with a smile and a lit cigarette and said, "Happy to help. Just need a sec."
Liv and Miz both stared at Billy in sheer disbelief. Who was this man standing in front of them? Miz had him folded over on the mat less than 12 hours ago. And here and now, he had made short work of two able-bodied 6th Street veterans like a seasoned professional.
Billy turned Blaine over, grabbing him by the collar and belt and dragging him towards the back door. Clay picked up the second ganger under the arms; he was barely conscious, his breathing ragged from his smashed ribs. Pops picked up the third ganger and hoisted him onto his shoulder. He approached the bar and placed his empty glass down; he gave a subtle wink as he spoke to Liv with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, "I'm going to need another one or two of these, darlin'."
Liv blushed. Why was she blushing? She had dealt with all kinds of mashers over the years; not one of them had broken her cool, steely exterior. And all it took was the space of Phoenix Gray's wink to send her reeling.
Behind the bar, all three bodies were dumped in a dog pile. To reinforce the point, Billy leaned down and repeated himself, "The Red Dirt is now operating under the protection of El Capitan. You, or any other 6th Street gangers walk in here again, we'll toss you off the dam and into the landfill. Clear?"
Pops chuckled, placing a hand on Billy's shoulder, "I think you made your point, son."
Billy sighed, the kindness returning to his face as he stood up. Clay couldn't believe his eyes. He remembered when the kid was still getting beaten up in junior high. He nodded with a smile and said, "It's good to see you again, brother. But uh, stay out of trouble for the rest of the night?"
Billy laughed, "You should worry about Miz more than me, man."
Even Pops chuckled at this as they walked back inside.
--
[22:00]
The floor around the bar and pool table and had been thoroughly cleaned, and with time to spare before the show started. The whole crew were enjoying the fruits of their labor in the form of a comped bar tab for the rest of the night. Miz and Billy had been talking music for the last hour while Pops and Liv talked about... everything. Max and Ky had parked themselves at a corner booth and were snuggled in each other's arms, happy to not hide their affection any longer.
At long last, Pops got a private holocall, and Reyes' voice spoke, "Long time no talk, amigo."
Pops answered him, a little looser with his words than usual, "It's damn good to hear your voice, old friend."
Reyes paused, "...yep, you've been drinking. Anyway, I just had a call from some 6th Street top dogs. Says 3 of their boys are in the local ripperdoc's clinic getting put back together. Another five were found a block away, neural interfaces fried. They'll live... maybe."
Pops thought for a moment through the fog, "I, uh... I reckon an apology's owed if this makes thing difficult for ya, Muamar."
Reyes laughed, "Ma-a-an, you better not be driving home. And no, 6th Street says it's the cost of doing business. They're not happy, but these boys were off the reservation. They understand. Should be no repercussions."
A few seconds passed before Reyes continued, "So hey, I heard you picked up one of my strays. How'd he do?"
Pops laughed, "Shi-i-it, the pup did most of the work inside. Made short order of two out of three guys all by himself."
Reyes laughed again, "Ah, that'll teach me to judge a book by its cover. Well, he's your problem now."
Pops laughed again before he asked the pertinent question, "So, about your mystery contact..."
Reyes cut him off, "You'll hear from them soon. They got my blessing, not that you or they ever needed it. Now go celebrate. You earned it."
The call ended and Pops HUD flashed with a transfer of €$35,000. Reyes had thrown in some extra scratch, probably for keeping it relatively quick and clean.
He smiled as he stamped out his cigarette, finishing his whiskey. It was time for this old cowboy to get home.
At the other end of the bar, Miz and Billy were still deep in conversation as the lights went dark for a second. A dull red began to pulse, and a throaty, breathy female voice opened with, "'Cause we lost everythi-i-ing... we had to pay the pri-i-ice..."
Miz whipped around to look at the stage before she lost her jacket entirely, grabbing Billy by the hand and dragging him to the floor in front. Turning to face him, she began to sway and move, guiding him to follow her lead as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. For a moment, he rested his hands on her arms as he stared in her eyes, before they slowly found their way down to her bare waist. Their bodies moved in sync, the heavy bass and synth pulsing through them as the ground shook. The smooth, lightly distorted guitars came into focus, providing the beat to follow. Her face threading was a solid pink as she bit her bottom lip, looking up to meet Billy's gaze. In a second, his arms wrapped around her back, pulling her into him as he took his chance and kissed her deeply. She reciprocated, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, pulling him even closer as they shared this breathless moment together.
It was... a thing of beauty.
--
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