Jackie barked a laugh at that, chrome fingers tapping the wheel in rhythm with the Alvarado's low growl. "Psycho or saint, doesn't matter. Long as you got my back when lead starts flying."
V leaned forward between the seats, her tone sharp but playful. "Just remember—convoy gigs aren't just smash-and-grabs. You don't think ahead, you get flattened. Drones won't care how much chrome you're flexing."
Jackie waved her off with a grin. "Relax, hermana. We'll be ready. Padre gave us the blessing, didn't he? That counts for something."
Max's optics flickered faintly as he stared out the window, watching the industrial skyline glow with scattered fires and neon. "Blessing or not, we can't run in blind. Convoy jobs are about control. Timing, terrain, firepower. If we miss one piece, the whole thing collapses."
Jackie raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you already got a plan cooking in that chrome skull of yours."
"Pieces of one," Max admitted. His voice was calm, but it carried a weight that filled the car. "First, we need a fast ride that can keep up and hit hard. The Alvarado won't cut it. Second, drones. They're eyes and guns in the sky. We'll need to ground them before we even touch the trucks. Third…" He paused, optics narrowing. "…we need an exit. Something clean, something that doesn't leave us boxed in when the corps send reinforcements."
V nodded slowly, smirk tugging at her lips. "Now you're talking my language. I can handle the drones. Mantis blades won't reach 'em, but a good smartgun will."
Jackie slapped the wheel with a laugh. "Ha! I knew it. You're both already scheming. Me? I'll do what I do best—tear the doors off those trucks and make sure whatever's inside ends up ours." He flexed his gorilla arms with a metallic whirr.
Max finally turned toward him, his masked face unreadable. "Strength gets us in. Planning gets us out."
For a moment, the Alvarado was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the city's noise pressing against the windows. Then Jackie nodded once, more serious than before.
"Alright, hermano. Tomorrow morning we start lining things up. Wheels, guns, gear. Whatever it takes."
V leaned back, her smirk sharpening into something colder. "Good. Because if we're gonna hit this thing, I don't want to just win. I want every other crew in Night City to hear about it and wonder who the hell we are."
Max's optics glowed faintly in the dark, reflecting the neon like a predator's eyes. "They'll know soon enough."
The Alvarado rumbled on through Heywood, carrying them deeper into the night—toward a job that could make them, or break them, in a single shot.
The Alvarado purred down a cracked stretch of Heywood, finally pulling into Jackie's block. The building loomed like everything else in Night City—graffiti tagged, half-lit, always humming with the sound of too many people crammed inside too little space. Jackie parked the car, shutting off the engine with a flick, chrome fingers still twitching like he hadn't burned off the adrenaline yet.
"Alright," Jackie said, leaning back with a grin, "we got a gig. Tomorrow's gonna be a big one. But tonight…" He jerked his thumb toward the stairwell. "We rest. Can't be legends if we roll up looking like half-dead gonks."
V smirked, sliding out of the back seat. "Speak for yourself. I don't need beauty sleep."
Max stepped out last, silent as always, scanning the street one last time before following. His optics tagged a few heat signatures upstairs—neighbors, no threats. Still, his system logged them. A habit he never ignored.
The three climbed the cracked stairwell, neon leaking in from broken windows, until they reached Jackie's apartment. Inside, the place smelled of fried food and synth leather. Posters of lucha legends covered one wall, while the other was cluttered with tools, spare chrome parts, and bottles. It wasn't much, but it was lived in.
Jackie kicked off his boots. "Mi casa es su casa. Couch is yours, V. Max—" He squinted at him. "You even sleep, hermano?"
Max's mask tilted slightly. "Sometimes."
Jackie laughed, heading for the fridge. "Man's built like a damn enigma."
V dropped onto the couch, stretching out, her mantis blades clicking once before retracting fully. "As long as you don't start pacing all night, I don't care."
Max remained by the window, watching the city glow and pulse outside. "I'll be quiet."
Jackie cracked open a bottle of cerveza and raised it. "Tomorrow, chooms. Tomorrow we make our mark."
The Next Morning
Sunlight filtered weak through smog, turning Heywood a pale orange. Max was already awake, perched at the small table with his optics dimmed to standby glow. V rolled off the couch with a groan, hair messy, stretching like a cat. Jackie shuffled out of his room in sweatpants, rubbing his eyes, but already grinning.
"Rise and grind, familia. We got work to do." He slapped his chrome arm. "First order—wheels. The Alvarado's a beauty, but she's not built for convoy hits. We need speed and muscle."
V rubbed at her face. "You know someone who can hook us up?"
Jackie's grin widened. "Padre ain't the only one with connections. There's a guy—Rick. Runs outta a garage by the Santo Domingo border. Owes me a favor."
Max's voice cut in, calm and measured. "Then we start there. A car fast enough to keep up, strong enough to ram if needed. No exceptions."
Jackie pointed at him. "See? Man knows what's up. After wheels, we hit the gun shops. V, you need something to ground drones?"
She smirked. "Thinking a smart AR. Something sleek. I'll make those flying bastards drop like pigeons."
Max's optics glinted. "And grenades. EMPs. Drones go blind, trucks go nowhere."
Jackie nodded, already pulling on a jacket. "Wheels, guns, grenades. Got it. And don't forget—exit route. Ain't no sense pulling a job if we got nowhere to run after."
V leaned against the wall, smirk sharpening. "Good. Because if we're hitting this thing, I don't just want to win—I want the corps to know someone new just stepped into their playground."
Max's masked face tilted slightly toward her. "They'll know."
Jackie raised his bottle of water like a toast. "Then let's get to work. Today, we prep. Tomorrow, we take everything."
***
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