'Planning Stage'

"Alright, alight." Speks says after gathering everything back up, "Here's the job, a client that has decided to remain unnamed wants some folks dead." he jabs a finger at the trio, "You guys'll do the deed. The client has already provided all the information we need, along with the preparations beforehand."

Speks slides some photos in front of them, each with different angles of some parking lot. It was attached to an abandoned auto shop that was completely barricaded up, from the windows to the doors. The garage doors even seemed to be welded shut, preventing anyone from accessing the place without making a noisy entrance.

"Karlson's Parking lot, three ways in and out. Each of you will take one point, guard it and prevent anyone from leaving, client wants every single one dead. If a single one escapes we're outta luck and Ed's, got it?"

"Who're we hittin'?" Max questions as he leans back against his chair, not taking notice of how uncomfortably close he was to Ori.

Speks shrugs, "Dunno, client just wants them zeroed for whatever reason. Says they're always at the lot around eight in the afternoon. I'm hoping to get this done today, so you've got a couple hours to set up."

Ori quirks a brow at him, "So you want us to go kill a bunch of random people we have no information at all about? What if it's the Tygers or Valentinos? You gonna pay us extra for the trouble and the enemies we'll make?" he sharply questions.

Max nods with folded arms, "Kid's right, how's the payout?"

Speks scratches just his hairline, "Fifty-Fifty, I got half and you guys split the rest. As for the gang stuff? I highly doubt any are involved."

"Fifty-fifty...?" Six quietly growls.

"Fuck've you done to deserve a whole half? No research, no Netrunners, no nothin'. Seventy-thirty or I ain't doin' shit." Max gives his counteroffer.

...

"Eh... Alright, I guess?" Speks relents, "Just get the job done or we're all getting buttons." he says and begins packing up his stuff. Before he leaves the trio alone he slides some gonk-looking business cards in front of them with his detes on 'em.

"What an idiot." Max shakes his head while squeezing his temples. "We'll use my ride, enough seats for everyone..." he says while getting to his feet, Six mirroring him.

Ori follows but speaks up as they reach the door, "Shouldn't we be making a plan or something?"

Max shrugs, "We'll talk about it when we get to the lot, see what we're workin' with. Can't trust that dumb bastard for good intel."

They step outside but Ori's dumbfounded when they reach Max's car... A Mahir Supron FS3, one of the cheapest, shittiest MPV mini-vans that was currently available... Made of the cheapest materials and had an engine that could barely support the car's weight.

Ori knew this because it was one of the only vehicles the Quadranos used to use, back when they weren't confined to the tunnels... "This really your ride...?"

"Needed cash quick, had to sell my pride and joy... I know it's scop-shit, but at least we won't have to worry about it taking bullets. Replacing its parts is easier than swapping shoes." Max explains as he slides into the driver's seat, Six riding shotgun.

Ori reluctantly sits in the back, feeling like he was a child safety seat away from a school tour or something.

Max fires up the engine and begins driving towards the job destination, occasionally catching Ori's eyes through the driver's mirror. "So, what's a punk kid like you doing on a job like this?" the vet inquires conversationally.

"Needed cash quick." Ori throws the man's words back at him.

"Hmph, sounds like every two-bit merc I've ever heard of. Just remember that the Eddies mean fuck-all if you're six-feet under."

------------------------------

It takes around twenty minutes to finally reach the lot, and Ori wasn't all that impressed by it. The photos they'd been shown were clearly out of date as the wire fencing now had small holes cut through them, indicating someone with spare boltcutters wanted a closer look at the auto shop.

The lot itself was almost completely empty, aside from some completely stripped clean cars that were missing doors, tires, and anything else you could pawn off. The only thing of interest he really saw was the large congregation of trash in the centre of the place, along with a circular spot that was blackened with ash, likely used commonly for a campfire or some sort.

[Adrenal Systems Increased, Request Explanation: Flesh Administrator]

"Just preparing for combat..." he mentally states, hoping the bots could pick up on it.

[No present threat, acute stress response irregularity. Request Explanation: Flesh Administrator]

"No threat yet, soon there will be."

[Collective Request Leave Vicinity: Flesh Administrator]

"Combat necessary for further survival." he simply responds in a way the bots would understand.

...

[Understood, Collective Request Permission to assist autonomic nervous systems, information processes-]

"Granted, just don't act against me." he mentally states, feeling his heart rate forcefully slow and calm him down. His nerves were definitely getting to him, the last time he'd been in a serious fight was when some addicts in Casinha tried to rob him. Most ran away when he flashed his gun, but a single, clearly cracked-out man stayed.

Ori had loaded him full of bullets but he kept on coming, forcing him to beat him to death with his bare hands... That'd fucked him up for days, or maybe weeks afterwards, and it took the combined efforts of his dad and sister to bring him back to his senses.

He could still feel it now, the man's warm life blood splattering and sticking to his face as he drove his fist into his mutilated face... The man's manic look only faded moments before his heart finally gave out, the look of shock and panic remaining on his face even after death.

*Thump*

Max backhands Ori's shoulder, "Stay awake kid, time to plan shit out."