Mercer and the three Little Hackers, taking advantage of the enemies not being nearby yet, immediately ducked into a dilapidated house. The structure was mostly built from boards of some synthetic material. Though it looked like the Wraiths had tidied it up a bit, the house was still strewn with liquor bottles and cigarette butts. The sofa was half-rotted, foam spilling out from its torn seams.
Mercer leaned by the window, his cybernetic eye glowing faintly, magnifying the street below. A convoy was approaching. Leading the way was a two-door sports car, modified with bulletproof glass, reinforced body panels, and an oversized headlight mounted on the front. According to his cybernetic eye's scan, the prototype was known as the "Peregrine Falcon: Wild Wolf."
In 2077, materials like this bulletproof glass—or rather, one-way transparent data-metal plates—were extraordinary. At first glance, it appeared to be thin metal, but activating a program transformed it into a one-way glass. From the outside, it looked metallic and opaque; from the inside, it offered perfect clarity. Mercer was impressed, though for now, it simply allowed him to monitor the driver's seat.
Next in the convoy was a modified Villefort Columbus V340-F cargo van. This two-seater had a massive rear space for cargo transport. Mercer's memory ticked over until he recalled seeing this vehicle in a game, converted into a mobile hacking station when Songbird had been taken to the airport. Following that was a large Makigumo "Saguaro" pickup truck, its hood spray-painted with a skull, and two dilapidated yet heavily modified Canary "Viper" vehicles. Five vehicles in total—fewer than Mercer had anticipated. Perhaps these Wraiths had returned from a daytime job, finishing their work early.
Leon, standing beside him, nervously raised his gun, but Mercer gently pressed down the barrel, signaling him to wait.
Mercer (message): "No rush. Their pickup still has a machine gun, and my cybernetic eye can't track all signals from inside. Patience."
Leon nodded, lowering his Arasaka assault rifle, keeping a careful watch. The convoy drove past the dilapidated house and stopped outside an abandoned restaurant in the town center.
Through his cybernetic eye, Mercer tracked the Wraiths as they exited the vehicles. Even through walls, their signals were visible—thanks to Rosie, whose exceptional line of sight allowed her to maintain the scans.
Rosie: "Don't rush! They have a hostage. He doesn't seem to be part of their group… likely someone they kidnapped during a robbery. I've marked him in the cybernetic eye. If possible, we might save him."
Mercer observed quietly, issuing calm instructions.
Mercer: "Once they all go inside to rest, we start. Daichi, Leon, you two go behind the building opposite the restaurant and find a way in. When ready, open fire immediately from the front. Lucy, use your thrown weapons. Our initial objective is to maximize damage and create a commotion. We'll sneak to the other side, assassinate key figures with Quickhacks, and execute a pincer attack. Don't worry too much about the hostage; safety comes first. Wait for my signal."
Daichi: "Understood."
Leon: "Understood."
The team moved quietly. Mercer led Lucy to the right, while Daichi and Leon went left. Crossing the central street, they reached the other side of the restaurant. Mercer paused, noticing an antenna on the roof.
Mercer: "I see a network receiver. Don't rush—I'll link into their subnet. Their network likely connects here. If I hack it, I can deploy a daemon virus package."
Lucy: "No heat dissipation or server connection. Don't burn your brain again."
Mercer: "No problem."
Lucy crouched in a solid stance, positioning herself to help him scale the three-meter-high roof. Mercer stepped on her knee and leapt, assisted by her hands. Despite minimal specialized training, his light frame and physical ability allowed him to pull himself up with effort.
On the roof, he approached the antenna, opened the maintenance box, and connected his data cable to the subnet. Signals buzzed beneath him.
Mercer: "Done. They haven't been hacked yet—all signals are connected to the same subnet. Lucy, crouch at the back. If any stragglers exit, shoot. Rosie, maintain the cybernetic eye tracking until targets are neutralized."
Rosie: "Understood."
Lucy: "Okay."
Mercer closed his eyes, pouring his focus into the network. Though not Deep Diving, heightened concentration slowed time. Streams of data flashed before him. The Quickhack program in his co-processor deployed a virus package, infecting the subnet. Normally, area-of-effect hacks required preloaded virus chips, consuming computing power to run automatically. Mercer's brain alone handled multiple virus packages simultaneously, controlling precise infection and spread.
Mercer: "Act!"
Three rounds from an Arasaka precision rifle shattered the calm. "Dadada, Dadada!" The sound of gunfire cut through the air. Glass shattered, screams rang out.
"There's a hacker! Across the street!"
"Watch for grenades!"
"Ahhh!"
Panic erupted among the Wraiths. Mercer confirmed the subnet—silence.
Mercer: "You three, assess. Lucy, back door. Hostage?"
Rosie: "I can't see behind the bar anymore."
Daichi: "No enemy activity in my area."
Leon: "The hostage ran behind the bar during the chaos."
Mercer attempted a message, but the hostage's signal was gone. Lucy, already at the back door, found the man tied up but cooperative.
Lucy: "Hands tied, but safe. Can come out."
Mercer disconnected, rubbing his temples. With the subnet compromised, he could have handled the Wraiths alone—only one had a Netrunner deck with ICE, taking slightly longer. The rest were trivial.
He jumped down from the roof, entering the restaurant through the back. Daichi and Leon moved systematically, neutralizing threats as trained under Arasaka protocols.
Mercer surveyed: the two Wraiths by the window were dead, confirming Daichi and Leon's accuracy. He sat opposite the hostage, pointing his Kenshin Pistol casually, and tapped a bar stool.
The man had a gray cowboy hat, plaid shirt, bushy beard, dirty jeans, and cowboy boots. A robust figure in his forties, he had minimal cyberware—just a basic brain-computer interface.
Mercer noted: this type of target was tricky. Individuals without active networks couldn't be affected by Quickhacks; only direct connection worked. The man had shut down his interface, avoiding Mercer's network intrusion.
Mercer: "Tell me about yourself. Introduce yourself, then I'll decide if you live."
The man stared incredulously. A group of thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds had neutralized the Wraiths in seconds?
Hostage: "Don't shoot! I'm a nomad, the Columbus van outside is mine. They tried to rob me, found junk, and tied me up for ransom."
Mercer: "Be specific—name, origin, where you're from, where you're going, and why."
Hostage: "…Name's Cassidy, Aldecaldos nomad."
Mercer raised an eyebrow.
Mercer: "Aldecaldos?"
FOR MORE CHAPTERS
patreon.com/Johnybairstow