Chapter 9: Sasha Yakovleva
"You—"
Her mind went blank, her head spinning. Sasha could only stare dumbly at Rhys. Then, she felt herself being lifted forcefully into his arms.
Rhys heard the system notification and accepted. The original security gig was now a rescue mission.
[Gig Updated. Accept New Gig: Rescue Sasha Yakovleva?]
[Gig Accepted: Rescue]
[Rescue]
Threat Level: Medium
Objective: Rescue Sasha Yakovleva from Biotechnica security and change the fate that awaits her...
Reward: +0.1 to a random attribute, one random skill.
Rhys didn't have time to examine the details. He glanced down at the dazed netrunner in his arms.
"Hold on tight. If you fall from here, we're both flatlined for good."
He slung Sasha over his shoulder, one hand gripping her waist to keep her steady, the other raising the Lizzie. As the security bots turned their way, Rhys's leg muscles coiled and unleashed, launching them over four meters across the room. His enhanced reflexes allowed him to track the bots' incoming fire.
One shot, two...
Dodging the volley, Rhys spun and fired a burst from the Lizzie. At this range, the pistol's overpowered multi-shot, shotgun-like blast tore through the two security bots, crippling them instantly. Oil sprayed, sparks flew, and a moment later, both machines burst into flames.
"Jump! There's a bomb!" Sasha suddenly remembered, her voice sharp with alarm.
"What?" Rhys froze.
"I planted a timed charge in my bag! To wipe the data! We can't use the door, it's about to blow!"
Sasha snapped back to reality, realizing her hands were balled tightly in the fabric of Rhys's jacket. She hadn't been as ready to die as she'd thought. Uncovering the truth and getting her revenge on Biotechnica had been satisfying, but... she wanted to live!
"You've got to be—" Hearing her, Rhys changed direction and sprinted for the shattered window. "So you want me to jump out of here with you? We're on the fourteenth floor!"
"It's better than being blown to bits! I'd rather leave a pretty corpse!" Sasha shot back, her tone laced with a hint of panicked sarcasm. "You got up here, didn't you? Now get us down the same way!"
"Climbing up and jumping down are not the same thing!"
He yelled it, but he was already moving, following her desperate logic. He ran straight for the window, and in the next second, he leaped out into the open air, Sasha held tight in his arms.
Behind them, a squad of security bots appeared, their bullets chasing after them. Sasha looked up, her optics locking onto the nearest bot. The vents on her faceplate hissed violently as her internal systems went into overdrive. For a heart-stopping moment in mid-air, inertia threatened to tear her from his grasp. If Rhys hadn't kept a firm grip on her waist, they would have gone their separate ways in the most literal sense.
The wind tore the cap from Rhys's head as they fell, revealing his clean-cut black hair and his unchromed, organic face.
Holstering the Lizzie, Rhys spotted a car on the bridge by the west gate. He saw Maine stumbling out of it, his mouth agape, sunglasses pulled off with one hand as he stared at the building in utter disbelief.
Twisting his body in mid-air, Rhys controlled their descent. In a blur, they dropped from the fourteenth floor to the seventh. The hand that had held the Lizzie now gripped a simple, unadorned combat knife, its eight-inch blade gleaming silver. The muscles in his upper arm bulged, and the veins on his forearm stood out like writhing worms under his skin.
With a roar, Rhys slammed the knife downwards. It bit into the concrete wall with a shower of sparks and debris, peppering his face with stinging grit.
His dark pupils glowed orange. He patched a call through to Maine.
"We've got a situation, Maine! If you and Pilar aren't at the gate in thirty seconds to pick us up, we're both dead! The AVs will be here any minute!"
"Copy that! Holy shit, kid, you've got balls of chrome!" Maine's voice was a cocktail of shock and awe. What the hell... the fourteenth floor! Jumping from that high with someone in your arms was suicide. Unless you were fully borged out... no, the only person Maine knew who could pull something like that off was Adam Smasher!
The fourteenth floor, choom!
He hadn't just plummeted like a meteor the way Smasher would, but the fact that Rhys had done it with a nearly-organic body was even more mind-blowing. Was he really all meat? Or was there some new military-grade chrome on the market Maine hadn't heard about?
The confusion was immediately replaced by the urgent need for a rescue. Maine jumped back in the car where Pilar was already waiting.
"Floor it, Pilar!"
"I fucking know!" Pilar yelled, slamming the accelerator, his eyes glued to the road ahead.
...
"Can you walk?"
"Yeah. Just a bullet through the shoulder. It's fine."
At the west gate of the Biotechnica complex, Sasha answered Rhys while looking up. High above, a dark gash scarred the building's facade, with a line of small black dots—the security bots—peering down at them from the fourteenth floor.
"It's okay, they can't get down here. The programming on those security bots is stupidly rigid. And MAX-TAC won't get here for at least three minutes. They always show up after the party's over. Just like Trauma Team—always arriving after the client's already flatlined."
Sasha's words were muffled as she clenched a roll of medical tape in her teeth, trying to bandage her own shoulder.
Hearing that, Rhys relaxed considerably. He looked at her smooth, rounded shoulder. "I thought you'd be leaking hydraulic fluid."
If they had to face MAX-TAC now, their only option would be to run, and getting away with an injured Sasha would be impossible. Even a mid-game V had to get the hell out of dodge when MAX-TAC showed up. Hell, plenty of fully-chromed players still gave them a wide berth.
In the game, the most oppressive enemy wasn't Adam Smasher, even if he was stronger in the lore. It was MAX-TAC, because their power scaled with V's. That's why the infamous "Four Horsemen"—the squad that always dropped from the AV consisting of a netrunner, a sniper, a Mantis Blade user, and a shotgunner—was so terrifying.
The two of them vaulted the west gate wall and landed on the empty highway. The adrenaline fading, an awkward silence fell between them. Rhys stopped, turning to say something, but as he did, Sasha, lost in thought, bumped right into his back.
She instinctively rubbed her forehead, then looked up at him.
"Uh..." Rhys automatically reached for his head, but his hand found only air. His cap was long gone.
"Stop feeling for it. I'll buy you a new one later," Sasha said, instantly understanding. She took a step back, wincing as the movement pulled at her wound. The heat sinks on her cheeks were still puffing white smoke, her face pale from blood loss.
BEEP!
A car horn blared. The roar of an engine grew rapidly closer. In the blink of an eye, Maine's modified ride drifted to a screeching halt in front of them.
A large face leaned out of the window. "Don't just stand there, get in!"
The back door popped open. Rhys moved to climb in, but Sasha's voice stopped him.
"Sasha..."
"What?" Rhys turned, confused, looking at the small netrunner behind him.
Sasha had both hands pressed to her wounded shoulder. Her blue-and-pink eyes looked at him with a startling intensity. She lifted her leg and kicked him squarely in the ass, sending him stumbling into the car. She scrambled in right after him.
As Rhys caught his balance, he heard her voice from behind him.
"I said, my name is Sasha. Sasha Yakovleva."
Rhys blinked slowly. The neon signs from the highway washed over his face, flooding the car's interior with color.
Maine grinned, stuck two fingers in his mouth, and let out a piercing whistle. This was just how his and Dorio's story had started. Cheesy as hell, but it worked.
"Dammit, dammit, I knew it! I knew this would happen!"
In the driver's seat, Pilar started banging his head against the steering wheel, wailing for reasons no one understood.
Rhys: "..."