Inside the mansion, David, Maine and Pilar moved blind — the place was black, their ears doing the work of eyes. David heard a whisper, spun, and hauled a body up by the throat in a single brutal motion.
“You don’t match your file, David,” Ivan’s voice sneered through the dark, flat and mocking. “You are being way too violent. The sandevistan isn’t light but given your tolerance for chrome. You carry it like it’s nothing.”
“I’m special. And if you don’t give Lucy back, I’ll make you remember it the hard way,” David replied, cold as a blade.
Light flooded the room — Pilar had managed to flip the breakers. They looked around and realized they were ringed by psychos.
“FUCK! THIS IS A GODDAMN ZOMBIE INVASION!” Pilar yelled, half terrified, half thrilled.
David carved through a dozen of them. Maine, strapped into the exoskeleton, took rounds and stayed standing. Pilar, precise even in the chaos, shot weapons out of hands and severed throats. Still — they were drowning in numbers.
“This shit ain’t for me!” Pilar spat, ducking behind a column and hurling a grenade that cleared a zone in a thunderous bloom.
Maine went melee. For a second muscle memory kicked him — he reached like he had his old integrated gorilla arms with built-in cannons — and remembered with a sick twist that they weren’t there. A psycho hit him square. He staggered.
David, Sandevistan screaming in his veins, shredded the remaining wave. When the last body hit stone they were alive — but boxed in. Ivan was nowhere to be seen.
“Did you really think I’d be left exposed like this? You’re an idiot. You don’t have the street sense for Night City,” Ivan taunted, then cut the feed.
Frustration ripped through David like an electric lash. He launched at the steel doors, pounding them with fists until his knuckles bled. He only broke his hands.
Maine watched him, seeing a reflection of himself from not long ago. David didn’t want comfort. He wanted one thing, and everything else could burn.
Outside, the team scrambled for a way in. The compound was locked like a vault. Then the ground ripped open and a dropship-style cargo, it looked like Trauma Team ship.
“What the fuck? How much cash does this asshole have?!” Rebecca cursed.
Dorio’s brain spun. The cargo was impossible to board, but the control node was exposed inside— consoles, panels — maybe they could override the locks from inside. She grabbed Rebecca like she was a rag-doll and dragged Nova with her. They dove for the access hatch.
“Shit!!” they both screamed as they dropped.
They hit the floor hard. Panels clanged. Doors closed behind them. Faces bleeding, they rolled to their feet.
“Nova — work your magic,” Dorio gasped without giving him time to breathe.
“Alright… give me a sec.” He forced himself up, stumbled to the consoles, and fed his eyes into the feeds. Hundreds of cameras blinked to life — the mansion was a layered city underground. Rooms nested on rooms. He found the chamber where David, Maine and Pilar were locked and started ripping protocols like thread. It wasn’t easy. Ivan had spent obscene money on security. Systems looped, firewalls stared back. Whoever bankrolled this had deep hands.
“Got it. They’re free,” Nova breathed as doors hissed and locks fell. He kept digging, trying to trace Ivan’s path, but the bastard had scrubbed everything clean. No trail.
They regrouped, panting, planning the next step. David wasn’t interested in strategy — he wanted blood.
“We go after them now,” David snapped, eyes a hard flat line.
“No,” Dorio cut him off. “We lucked out getting out alive. That was too close. Ivan and Faraday are too big. If Ivan has a setup like this, he’s not acting alone. They took both Lucy and Kiwi to erase our tracks.”
“You want us to just sit and wait until they kill them?” David barked.
“They won’t kill them right away,” Nova said, steady. “If they’ve got them, they’ll milk them for value. We need cash, intel, leverage. Or an investor. I’ve got an idea — Padre Ibarra.”
“Are you insane? Padre?” Pilar scrambled, half laughing, half horrified.
“We’ve got proof Ivan’s been moving in Padre’s territory. Padre hates that. If we bring him leverage — if we make it worth his attention — he’ll let us use his network. He can get us leads on where they’re holding the girls,” Nova explained.
Pilar’s jaw dropped, then lit up. “You’re crazy… but fuck yes. Do it.”
They spend 1 whole day making jobs with Nova's business trying to make all the possible eddies, it wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to make a noise loud enough for Padre to listen. With cash and proof, they could pull rank on a man who didn’t play by the street rules.
There was one problem — their assumption was wrong. Faraday’s play wasn’t some amateur collab. They all chased the same target, but they didn’t realize the players weren’t on the same side. That wrinkle could kill them.
Faraday leaned back in the black-lit room, pleasure cutting his face. “So what now, Kiwi? You’re useless to me like this. Could kill you — no harm done.” His voice was velvet and blade.
Kiwi’s shoulders slumped. Cornered, tired. “What’s stopping you… Just do it,” she said, voice flat, resigned.
Faraday’s smile widened. “Where’s your survival instinct, kid? I expected more fight. Tell you what — I nearly have everything I need. But I don’t like being used by that wannabe corpo, Ivan. Do what I ask, and I’ll let you go. Hell, I’ll pay you.”
“Yeah? And how do I know you’re not full of shit?” Kiwi snapped, brittle.
“Don’t waste your chance,” Faraday purred. “If you walk now, I’ll remove Ivan from my board — he dies, and I secure the last piece I need. With that, I’m untouchable. A lone runner won’t mean jack to me after that. You do this for me, and you walk. No leash, no favors owed. Free.”
Silence pressed in. Kiwi looked down, thinking, counting choices like bruises. Then she exhaled — the sound of a tired animal.
“All right,” she said. “What do I have to do?”