A few days later, Burnout found himself on the same stretch of road.

Because of what happened with Whisper Wind, he hadn't had the chance to actually complete his mission. Whisper, obviously, had run into his own problems. Seeing that their missions weren't mutually exclusive, they had decided to work together - and hired a third shadowrunner, a troll named Dave.

Dave. Like all runners, it was undoubtedly an alias, but come on man, where's your sense of style?

Burnout had a bad habit of being recognized at the most inopportune times, so they'd parked an extra couple of blocks back and Burnout was doing reconnaissance with a swarm of MCT Fly-Spy minidrones. Once again there were two gang members on one side of the street and one in the alley across the street; the alley one was loading crates of something into a box truck.

Burnout needed to plant his signal jacker into a support beneath one of the buildings after the previous plan fell through. Whisp meanwhile had to kill the leader of this gang, a guy by the name of Michael. That in mind, the elf sent more drones into the subway station beneath the target building and continued to scope it out while Whisper Wind climbed up a nearby building, making his way to the warehouse that the banger was loading the truck from.

Occupied as he was scouting out the subway (two more bangers and some security cameras), he almost didn't notice a banger come around an A/C duct on the roof and stab Whisper.

"What the hell, I thought you said this was clear!"

"My bad! That one's my fault." He held out a hand to Dave, keeping him from going in - let Whisp quietly take out the guy on the roof and continue as plan-

"ALERT!" came a cry from the rooftop. Burnout checked his drone up there - in a brawl, the banger had dropped his commlink, but realized belatedly that he wouldn't need it when backup was within earshot.

Burnout nodded to Dave, but the troll was already charging the bangers across the street. He drew his shotgun, lined it up, and BLAM the banger was missing a head. After another moment, the second one took a blast too, but managed to stay standing. Dave took cover behind a car.

The rest of the gang members reacted. The two in the subway made for the stairs; on that same level, a guy came out of the men's restroom, followed shortly by a disheveled-looking woman. And up top, the guy loading the truck dropped what he was doing and climbed into the driver's seat.

Burnout unjacked from his drone Personal Area Network and switched over to the car control and moved to block the alleyway entrance. He slid sideways into place (style) and opened up on the emerging truck with his two forward-facing Ares Alphas. First he tried to take out the truck itself, maybe score a lucky hit against the engine block, but at the end of the day, it was a big commercial truck and his weapons were just assault rifles. Setting a goal for himself to upgrade them at some point, he switched tactics and fired at the wheels, blowing out the front passenger side tire.

Across the street, Dave had taken out the second banger and had climbed on top of the awning over the subway stairs, ready to take out the gang members as they emerged. On the rooftop, Whisper wasn't doing quite so well and rolled off the roof, landing on the truck. He'd just managed to regain his balance when the truck turned sharply coming out of the alley. (Burnout had left it room just in case; he wasn't willing to let the truck total his car for this assignment.) Whisp fell off the side of the truck and landed on the pavement near Burnout's car. Aggravated that he was getting away, Burnout went to pursue the truck... and saw that in his haste to get out, the banger had left the rear doors open. The rigger grinned and switched weapon systems, and fired a high explosive grenade from one of the Alphas. It sailed clear into the truck, and after a moment's delay, BOOM. The truck didn't take much damage but its cargo had been decimated. Some fluid of some sort sailed on the back, getting on Whisp and the car. Burnout casually hit his windshield wipers to get it out of his sight and brought his car back into the alley to see what the fuss was about.

Dave somewhat calmly asked Burnout and Whisp to take care of the guy on the roof, who was still up there and taking potshots at him. Burnout stepped out of his car and fired his pistol at the banger, and Whisper finished him off with a ground-level shot.

Dave ducked down into the subway; Burnout heard some muffled screams. "I'm going to see what's in these crates," he said to the others. "I'll be right down."

"Awesome," said Whisp. He sounded a little out of it; maybe it was the fall he'd taken.

Burnout peeked inside one of the crates and amended his diagnosis - it was probably the crates of Bliss he'd vaporized. He caught a faint whiff of it himself before closing the crate. He patted the lid. "I'll be back for you later."

He jaunted across the street and skipped down the subway steps to rejoin the others. Three of the four had been killed; two were tangled in such a way that Burnout thought one had been used as a weapon against the other. I underestimated Dave. He does have style.

This level was where people could buy tickets, sit and rest, or throw junk into the fountain in the middle. A cursory glance confirmed that they had done just that. The last banger - the disheveled girl - was standing shakily atop a spreading pool of her own urine. She was undoubtedly new to this whole gang thing. Burnout lightly hopped over one of the bodies and said, "I don't suppose you'd take it the wrong way if I asked you to drop to your knees?" He looked around distractedly as she complied and found what he was looking for - a terminal in one of the walls. He started to make his way there. "Can I ask your name?" he asked, not quite looking at her.

"S-Sofie."

"Sofie! Pretty name." He switched to his PAN and sent some drones down a level. There were tracks, but no cars - or people, or equipment. He switched back over to the meat world, where Whisper was getting closer to Sofie, a gun pointed at her back. Vaguely aware that he wasn't quite within his own faculties, and that Whisp had been hit harder than he had, he said, "Whisp, you mind checking those bathrooms, make sure there's nobody else whizzing in here?"

Whisp reluctantly agreed. Dave, meanwhile, took Sofie with him to check the lower level.

A few minutes passed. Whisp proclaimed an "all clear" in the bathrooms, Dave saw signs of recent occupation below, Sofie was shocked that the leader had bugged out and taken the operation with him instead of lending backup, and Burnout managed to completely fry the signal jacker. It wasn't his area of expertise, but he'd been carefully instructed. Just, he couldn't quite remember if it was blue stripe to green wire, or green stripe to blue wire. Also that apparently soldering wasn't needed. He tried to fix it but eventually gave up; he was only making it worse. Why couldn't all electronics work on internal combustion or hydrogen.

click "Hey, Jackstand."

"Burnout! What're you up to?"

"I'm in a bind. I'm at the subway stop on 32nd and Main and need a Mark 75 signal jack."

"Ouch. When?"

"Yesterday."

"Alright... I think I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy, I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks man. I owe you."

"Yeah. And call more often, would you?"

*****

Burnout overpaid for the signal jacker (with complementary and quasi-trustworthy installation included) while Sofie was eventually let go with a couple doses of Bliss for her trouble (she was obviously an addict that Michael had been taking advantage of). Good will to and from others was like currency; it had to be hoarded and spent carefully. And considering he was down to his last couple hundred nuyen, Burnout needed all the alternative currency he could get. Speaking of which - he loaded up four fifty-dose crates into his car. Three were left. Looking out on the street, he saw a Buick missing a window - unmoved since he'd chucked a smoke grenade in just a few days prior. Hoping that meant it'd be here later, he loaded the last three crates into it.

He didn't want to be a drug dealer, but if he could find one he could offload it in bulk - quick money with none of the mess. Hopefully.

At the end of the day, he got paid for his efforts. He split the proceeds with Whisper and Dave.

Michael was still out there. Dave still had a mission to do. And darn it, they worked well together. Burnout considered his compatriots. Yeah.

This could work.

Burnout pulled into the roadside parking spot and unjacked from his car. He looked around; the area hadn’t changed since his previous time passing by.

Subway station on his side of the road, two warehouses on the other side. A few other cars parked alongside the road. Three gang members, uneasy.

Testing his new cybereyes, he zoomed in on the bangers. Armed but not heavily armored. They wouldn’t be a problem. Which isn’t to say that Burnout was confident he could take them all out; he was, but more to the point they had no impact on his mission. Drop a signal hijacker on the roof of the south warehouse, which had no affiliation with or against the local gang.

He checked for traffic, and when the road was clear, Burnout stepped out of the car. At that point, three things happened.

First, a gust of wind caught his Armanté coat, causing it to flare slightly. He grinned internally; never hurts to look like the badass you are. Leather-looking armored longcoat, leather boots, sharp shades. It’s all about the look, man.

Second, he noticed a man that seemed out of place. He was just too kitted out for this part of town. Burnout hadn't noticed him on his earlier drivebys either, which meant he was, up until that moment, doing a good job blending in.

Third, the bangers noticed him.

One ran out in the road, yelling to the others, and brought his gun up.

The man sprinted to the north warehouse wall - the one belonging to the gang. He planted a foot off the wall and did a backflip off it, landing in a crouch then making for the corner. It was a decent dodge move, Burnout thought, but he could have just as easily run for the corner immediately instead of delaying himself. Still, it would've been hypocritical of Burnout not to acknowledge just how badass it had looked.

Furrowing his brow, he rewound the scene in his cybereyes. As he thought - the first foot planted on the wall slipped a good two inches. He'd missed it at first because his polarized shades were interfering with the new eyes' optics. Burnout made a note to himself to ditch them for a less obtrusive pair; the cybereyes had flare reduction built into them anyhow.

The man had apparently been trying to scale the wall of the warehouse to get to the roof, launching off a sign along the way. Now the man was stuck at ground level and firing at the banger in the alley between warehouses. He was either brave or high, and Burnout wasn't ruling out "both".

Or, he was a runner.

Burnout looked at the roof, then at the man. That would've made sense, what with the badass recovery backflip. The banger the man had been firing at sprinted up with a knife (really?) and the other two fired at him. The man hit the pavement.

"Frag," muttered Burnout. He turned and ran back to his car, and felt the impact of bullets on the back of his coat. They didn't hurt much, but they did throw him off balance enough to bring him to the pavement. Not to be deterred, he bounced back up and sprinted to his car, climbing in and slamming the door. He jammed the ignition button and cringed as the windshield took more damage. Nothing got through, though; most consumer cars used strong enough material that a few bullets wouldn't hurt the occupants. His Saturn Tethys was no exception, but it did have a few modifications that could return the favor.

First thing's first, though - the guy dying on the sidewalk.

The two bangers on his side of the road were standing straight in front of the car. He could take them out, but there was still Knifey next to the dying guy.

And Knifey had been the one to shoot him.

He was going to regret his decision to pursue multiple targets - or at least, to shoot Burnout. Because now Burnout was behind the wheel - and jacked in.

Burnout jacked into the car through his Control Rig, the Saturn becoming an extension of himself; for all intents and purposes, the car was Burnout. He peeled away from the curb and crossed the street, aiming for Knives.

The banger dodged. Somehow. Burnout scowled at himself; some of that could be blamed on the polarized lenses, but part of that was just sloppy driving. No excuse. He checked the guy on the sidewalk quick - he was bandaging himself up quickly, and assuming he could get to the car, would make it. "About damn time!" the man cried.

The nerve of this guy, this stranger. Burnout waved for him to get his ass in the car, then checked his rear scopes. The two bangers, now on the other side of the road, had jumped back so as to not get hit by the car, but were bringing their guns back up to bear. The car was between them and the man on the sidewalk, so he was safe from their fire. The one who had dodged was on the trunklid of a Buick parked on the side of the road, directly out Burnout's driver side window. He rolled off the trunk and smashed in the window of the Buick, climbing in, while the other two fired harmlessly into the rear of Burnout's car.

Burnout sighted the two bangers with a scope on the rear of the vehicle, then unleashed one of his modifications. The rear license plate flipped up, revealing an Ares Alpha assault rifle - and a volley of fire that took down first one banger then the other. The man on the sidewalk backed up to the aluminum wall and pulled a long-barreled assault rifle (from where?) and fired into the rear of the car that Knifey was trying to hijack. It didn't connect with the banger but there was a satisfying bang as it hit the trunklid, signifying an explosive round. The man crawled around the front of the car and Burnout popped the door open. The man climbed in the car and the door closed automatically.

"Whisper Wind," he said by way of introduction, trying to gain his breath.

"Really? I would've expected that from me." A shot spanged off the outside of the car. Burnout pointed up to the opening sunroof.

"Huh?" Whisper asked. "Oh. Elf." He flicked Burnout's ear and pulled himself and his rifle up through the sunroof and lined up the other banger across the road.

"Burnout. Try not to bleed all over the place."

"No promises." His foot slipped on the center console and his shot went wide.

"I think you need new shoes."

"Tell me about it." Whisper Wind dropped back into his seat. "Can we buzz?"

"Sure." He slammed the car into reverse and cranked the wheel, facing the rear of the car at the Buick that Knifey had broken into. He smiled and peeled out.

Underneath the rear-facing Ares Alpha, the underslung grenade launcher thoomped. A grenade sailed through the air and in through the shattered car window. A look of pure terror washed over Knifey's face - followed by confusion as with a small flash and a fshhhhh sound, the smoke grenade unleashed its payload, filling the car in seconds.

Burnout drove away, the gun retracting back under the license plate. "Non-toxic, but he's probably not having a good time in there."

Whisper Wind laughed and flipped an obscene hand gesture out the window. Burnout did the same. This could be the start of something special.