After the meeting, V does not linger. He thanks them, confirms the last details, and slips out of Lizzie's Bar with the datachip in his pocket. Every hour counts; there is still a list of arrangements to set in motion before anything happens.
Inside the private room, only Jackie and Rocky remain. Bass thumps through the walls; colored light rolls across the table.
"L, I thought you'd refuse," Jackie says, taking a slow drink. His shoulders look loose, but the frown is real.
"What? You don't want the job? It's a big one," Rocky says, leaning back and watching him.
Rocky understands what sits under Jackie's tone. In the future, when V asks Jackie to go after Abernathy, Jackie will refuse outright. Like most edgerunners in Night City, Jackie hates corps. He does not want to work for them, be seen with them, or be used by them.
"You know me," Jackie says, shaking his head. "Tying yourself to a corp never ends well."
"But he's your brother, right?" Rocky lifts his glass, drains it, and grins at the jab.
"Yeah. He's my brother," Jackie says. "I just think he sold his soul to Arasaka. Says he wants to climb to the top. Above him is Jenkins, and above Jenkins is Saburo Arasaka. He's never reaching the top."
"Maybe. Don't be so pessimistic," Rocky says, steady, easing the heat out of Jackie's words.
Rocky thinks, then switches angles. "Jackie, if one day I become what people call a corporate dog, what will you do?"
"Why are you even thinking about that? Your clinic is your clinic. What's that got to do with corps?"
"I'm serious. I don't think that day is far off."
Jackie turns and really looks at him. For a beat, the bar noise slides out of focus as he imagines it. "Then what can I do? Not my first time dealing with friends on the inside," he says, then waves it away. "Enough talk. Let's figure out how to do the job right."
Silence settles while they let the problem breathe. The Konpeki Plaza angle is heavy. Acting inside Arasaka's premier hotel is how people get vanished. If you are not planning to die, you plan well.
"Fake IDs, book a nearby room, breach a target door," Jackie says, counting with his fingers. "All that is hacker work. Where's our hacker?"
They have a rough scaffold for the op, but a hacker is not optional. Their usual netrunners come through fixers; no fixer is involved this time. Rocky has studied netrunning, but he never installed a proper net access port, and his current level will not pierce Arasaka ICE at Konpeki.
Jackie spreads his hands. "You play with that stuff more than I do. Don't you know people?"
"I wouldn't say I know her," Rocky says, "but I know a netrunner who understands Arasaka, has real skill, and should be interested. Finding her might take time, and I can't guarantee she joins."
He does not say the name yet, but the target in his head is Lucy. Trained by Arasaka, familiar with their ICE, and very motivated where Arasaka is concerned, Lucy is built for this work. In Edgerunners, she slipped into Tanaka's systems to fish data and torched the brains of agents tracing her copy path. Against Arasaka infrastructure, that familiarity is a blade.
Jackie nods. "Sounds right. That reminds me. I know a netrunner, too. Top in Night City by reputation. Never worked with her, but everyone knows her."
"You mean T-Bug," Rocky says.
"Yeah. That's her."
T-Bug has a name in every merc channel that matters. She is expensive, cautious, and worth it. The choice is good either way. Rocky weighs both options and decides to try Lucy first. If that fails, they go to T-Bug.
"I'll try my candidate first," Rocky says. "If the talk breaks down, we go to T-Bug."
"Then move fast. Time is tight."
"I know."
They do not waste minutes on small talk. Most of the plans depend on the netrunner they bring in. Without that anchor, anything they sketch is just a story. They split the remaining tasks, agreed on touch points, and left the room.
Outside, the corridor smells like ozone and spilled beer. Jackie peels off toward Watson's streets, calling a driver for a quiet ride. Rocky heads for the lot and swings onto his bike.
Night City runs past him in blurs of violet and sodium, cranes hooked against the sky, billboards preaching to the dark. The air smells like fry oil, exhaust, and the light rain that never reaches the ground. He rides the artery toward Watson, mind setting work into piles: venue routes to map, equipment to stage, hands to hire. One pile has only a single name: Lucy.
Finding Lucy will not be hard. Rebecca can reach her in one call, Rebecca will give a location or bring Lucy to h if he asksim. He opens the clinic channel in his head, considers drafting a line, and closes it. He prefers to ask face-to-face.
He does not need the call. When he turns into the open concrete in front of his clinic, a pop-up car bar has its lights on and taps out. Music spills across a cheerful crowd. In the middle stands Rebecca, cup in hand, laughing.
Rocky slows the bike and rolls to a stop. He sees the rest as he kills the engine: Maine and Dorio near the circle's edge, Pilar talking with his hands, Falco a step back with the driver's posture that never sleeps, and Kiwi watching without blinking. Lucy is there too, hair catching a light that keeps changing color.
He steps off the bike and walks to the car bar. The bartender does not ask for a name. Rocky points at Rebecca's cup. "I'll have what she's having."
Rebecca notices him, surprise flickering into a smile that warms her eyes. "Hey, L. Why are you here? I just went to your clinic to haul you out for a drink and found it closed."