Once the team had confirmed the mission's payment, objective, and entry point, Karl immediately shifted gears, ignoring the Netwatch agent and turning to internal strategy with his crew.
It wasn't out of disrespect—having a Netwatch agent's support in the Net was certainly valuable. But the KK crew had accepted the job and were being paid handsomely. That meant there was no reason for the client to lift a finger. This was their mission now. The client just needed to wait for the good news.
If Netwatch had to do the work both before and after hiring them, then what was the point of the deal? Karl figured if he were in the client's shoes, he'd want to sit back and relax too. No merc worth their eddies takes a fat payout and then makes the client do part of the job. That's not how you earn five-star reviews.
"So, how are we going to approach this?" Oliver asked. "That church is crawling with Haitians, and odds are, a good number of them are Voodoo Boys. But we can't just walk up to someone and ask if they're in the gang. What are we gonna do—check with the NCPD's database? That's a joke. The Voodoo Boys aren't exactly registered in Pacifica."
"I've got an idea," came T-Bug's voice over the team channel. She hadn't spoken until now—typical, given her disdain for Netwatch. "You guys know there's a certain merc rumor about the Voodoo Boys, right?"
"I've heard they outsource jobs to mercs since they don't have enough people. That what you mean, T-Bug?" Jack chimed in. "I've heard of it, but I've never taken jobs from them myself. Not with how tight things are in Pacifica."
"Doormat," T-Bug said flatly.
"…Doormat?" Oliver frowned. "That doesn't sound good."
"It's what they call the mercs they hire," T-Bug explained. "They bring in outsiders for dirty work, then eliminate them afterward to protect their secrets. 'Doormat' means you're disposable—used once and thrown out."
"One-time-use mercs? Man, they really burn eddies like nothing," Karl muttered, already sidetracked by the term. But his mind clicked fast, and he immediately grasped the purpose behind T-Bug bringing this up.
"You're suggesting we pose as hired help? Get close to them that way, and sniff out their hideout?"
"Exactly. Better than playing needle-in-a-haystack at the church," T-Bug replied. "'Nothing drains a person more than long-term inactivity.' The Voodoo Boys are used to making others do their work—it's about time someone flipped that on them."
"Is that an Aristotle quote or something?" Oliver sneered. "Sounds like you're describing yourself—zero exercise."
"I work out an hour daily on my home rig. Keeps me sharp. Which is more than I can say for you, hiding in your room watching XBDs," T-Bug fired back.
That shut Oliver right up. When someone has that much dirt on you, you learn when to keep your mouth shut.
"Alright, enough," V stepped in to cut the tension. "So the plan is to pose as mercs looking to work for the Voodoo Boys, and dig for info while we're at it. But how?"
He paused. "If we show up as ourselves, they'll never buy us as disposable. We're too recognizable. But if we pose as unknowns, they might not even consider us."
"Easy," Karl said. "We pose as semi-famous mercs."
"Easier said than done…" Jack rubbed his chin. "I mean, I know a few, but who'd be suitable for this?"
"I'll make a call," Karl offered.
He stepped aside, made a quick holo-call, then returned with a nod. "Maine's crew said we can use their identities. They're on vacation—heading to the moon. Three-day trip, 250K eddies, ESA shuttle. Not even in Night City. Their names are all ours to borrow."
"The moon?" Oliver perked up. "Didn't David once say Lucy wanted to settle on the moon someday? So she's going to check it out in advance?"
"Something like that," Karl said, setting his comm down. "David didn't go—school and family stuff. And according to Maine, things are going well between him and Lucy. She's tagging along out of sentiment, I guess."
"Oh, I get it now," Oliver nodded, pretending to be deep. "A dream reshaped by love. Still burns inside, so she goes to see it one last time—before moving on to something new."
"Sure, let's go with that," Karl shrugged. "Anyway, once we've got the IDs, it's easy. If we ever want to take the trip ourselves, 250K isn't bad. But for now, we've got the credentials."
Karl pulled out a face-morph chip and slotted it in. His features shifted, transforming into a younger version—David's public persona.
"I'll go as David," he said.
"With my build, guess I'm Maine," Jack added.
"As for me…" V started, only for Oliver to cut him off: "I call Pilar. Not many others left."
V froze.
Besides Falco—the driver—Maine's team only had three guys: David, Maine, and Pilar.
And those were already taken.
Which meant…
V's face twitched. He stared daggers at Oliver.
He'd just bailed Oliver out during the T-Bug roast, and this was the thanks he got?
Really?
You leave me with this?
V inhaled deeply. Then clenched his jaw, ran a quick mental tally of the crew's women, and exhaled.
"Well then… I'm Lucy."
He turned to Karl, completely deadpan.
-
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