Dominik looked at them both. "A Private Military Company. What do you think?"
"A PMC?" Simon raised an eyebrow, stirring his coffee.
"A mercenary company?!" Laura dropped her spoon.
Their reactions were entirely different. Simon was just processing the logistics. It was the only trade he knew. Laura, however, was visibly upset.
"Dom, you both have a ton of cash now," she argued. "We can just find regular jobs here in the Civilian District. Why go back out there?"
Dominik looked at his sister. He couldn't tell her about the System's death threat hanging over her head. He had to spin it practically.
"Simon promised to teach me tactical survival," Dominik said. "And contracting earns money faster than any desk job. Look, Laura, Bangkok is a powder keg. This Safe Zone isn't permanent. I need to earn enough to buy you a Tier-1 UEC Citizen Pass. I want to move you to Geneva, where you can go to a real university behind real walls."
"I don't want a fancy university!" Laura shook her head, her eyes red. "I just want to stay with my brother."
"I have my own problems, Laura," Dominik said gently, pinching her cheek. "My university in Europe is gone. I'm not getting a diploma. Contracting is the most viable path. Besides, I have insane luck. Nothing is going to happen."
Simon chimed in, his voice flat but absolute. "Don't you trust my skills, Laura? With me watching his back, he'll be fine."
Laura glanced between the two of them. She bit her lip, staring at the table for a long moment before letting out a shaky breath. "Fine. But I'm not allowing either of you to die. That's an order."
"Yes, Commander," Dominik smiled. "See? I have to earn hazard pay just so you can spend it. Eat up. You need to get some meat on your bones."
"I don't want to," Laura pouted. "If I get fat, I won't find a boyfriend."
"To date my sister, any guy has to get past me first," Dominik warned instantly.
"And me," Simon added, pointing his spoon like a weapon.
Laura finally laughed. "Alright, you two can run the background checks."
Knock. Knock.
Three sharp knocks echoed from the front door.
"I'll get it," Dominik said, standing up.
He opened the door to find Leon S. Kennedy standing on the porch in a leather jacket and jeans, holding a black aluminum briefcase.
"Morning, Dominik."
"Agent Kennedy. Come in." Dominik stepped aside.
Laura tactfully excused herself upstairs. Dominik led Leon into the living room. Simon walked in a moment later, having pulled his skull balaclava up to hide his face. He sat down next to Dominik.
Leon unlatched the briefcase and placed it open on the coffee table. Inside were tightly banded stacks of hundred-dollar bills. "Half a million USD in untraceable cash. Want to count it?"
"No need. I trust the Senator's math," Dominik said, snapping the case shut and sliding it to his partner. "Look, Ghost. First payday."
"Don't celebrate yet," Ghost said, resting a boot on the table. "We just rescued a massive political asset. That's why the payout is high. A standard rookie contractor in this region makes about five hundred a day in an active combat zone. Peacetime is less than three grand a month."
Leon smirked. "Actually, independent PMCs might be staring down some massive operations very soon."
"Oh?" Dominik leaned forward. "How so?"
Ghost didn't speak, but he visibly dialed in.
Leon dropped the casual act. "You gathered from Quaid that the true source of this outbreak is the subterranean bunker complex in the Shan State. The UEC Vanguard team and the shadow PMC securing the perimeter were still broadcasting yesterday. Now? Total blackout."
"Comms fail in the jungle," Ghost grunted.
"The UEC was about to send CDC virologists and DARPA engineers to retrieve the primary research data," Leon explained. "With the vanguard MIA, the retrieval is suspended."
Dominik's mind turned over the logistics. "The government needs that data, but the zone is too hot. So, regional command wants to hire expendable PMCs to go in and get it."
"Exactly," Leon nodded. "The infected are surging against the Bangkok and Chiang Mai Green Zone walls. UEC Marines are stretched too thin to mount an expeditionary mission into the Golden Triangle."
"What about your Secret Service CAT teams? Or mechanized divisions?" Dominik asked.
"No," Leon shook his head. "Senator Benford pulled strings to dispatch my Counter Assault Team off the books. Going back officially is a political minefield. Plus, the airspace is locked."
"Locked?" Ghost asked.
"The Golden Triangle is under absolute martial law. The UEC activated an AI-driven anti-air missile grid," Leon said. "A scorched-earth quarantine. The SAM batteries will shoot down any aircraft attempting to fly in or out."
"How do you bypass it?" Dominik asked.
"The grid can only be deactivated by override keys held by four regional UEC Directors."
Dominik swallowed hard. "Don't tell me. One of those Directors is inside the bunker."
"Yes," Leon said. "All active UEC forces are pinned down. The only Tier One assets available are my CAT team, and we lack the numbers to breach a subterranean bunker. So, UEC regional command is preparing to issue open bounties to top-tier PMCs. The contract: escort the DARPA scientists and my team back into the Golden Triangle to retrieve the Director and the data."
"When?" Ghost asked.
"Half a month, at the latest," Leon said.
"The commission should be astronomical," Dominik noted. "It's a suicide mission."
"Baseline hazard pay will be around $5,000 USD a day, per operator," Leon confirmed. "Target bonuses will push it into the millions."
Leon stood up and buttoned his jacket. "Since you two are officially contracting, gear up. Keep your comms open. The call goes out soon."
Dominik walked Leon to the door, patting his shoulder. "Thanks for the intel, Kennedy. When this blows over, I'll buy you that beer."
"I'll hold you to it," Leon smiled. "Hey, speaking of, is your sister—"
"Get out."
Dominik shoved him out onto the porch and slammed the door.