IDKjust
patreon
Chapter 348c
🕑 Added 2025-08-11 17:21:50 +0000 UTCChapter 348c
2-in-1-chapter
----------------
Most Nomad hackers lacked any notable skill in netrunning, as their work and daily lives rarely required it.
The one in their team now was already the most capable netrunner in the Aldecaldos, yet even he was still far behind Lucy in ability.
However, every Aldecaldo that Leo had recruited had been equipped with cyberware suited precisely to their role, and this netrunner was no exception.
After some time, every security camera outside the Chapel had its power cut.
“We move,” Mitch ordered, signaling for the others to step out from cover.
They advanced to the chapel doors, the rest of the team keeping watch while the netrunner, without needing Mitch’s instruction, began hacking the lock.
Several minutes later, the netrunner finally succeeded in opening the chapel doors. Mitch eased one door open just enough for Scorpion to roll in the recon drone.
From the drone’s feed, the interior looked much like any other church, except that the altar was dedicated to deities of Haitian belief.
Scorpion maneuvered the drone through the main hall. No traps appeared on the scan.
Mitch then opened the door fully, leading the team inside before closing it again.
“The hidden passage entrance is here,” Mitch said after comparing the location to the map Leo had provided. He stopped before a section of wall concealing the entrance and gestured to the netrunner. “Same as before. It’s yours.”
This time, hacking the hidden passage took far longer than bypassing the security cameras had.
Minutes passed without any change, prompting one Aldecaldo to mutter under his breath, “Are you even capable of doing this?”
The netrunner stayed silent, sweat beading heavily on his forehead.
Mitch smacked the complainer lightly. “Stop rushing him. Can’t you see he’s busy? Keep your eyes open and stay alert.”
A few more minutes passed before the concealed door finally unlocked.
“Good work. Take a breather,” Mitch said, patting the netrunner’s back.
“Scorpion.”
Scorpion nodded and sent the recon drone down the passage.
It hadn’t gone far before spotting laser tripmines embedded in the walls, their emitters camouflaged to match the surface. Without careful observation, they would have been overlooked entirely.
“Mark every location with traps or mines.”
The drone could not disarm traps, but it could highlight them for later clearance. Scorpion guided it carefully, avoiding every danger in the passage.
The corridor was lit entirely by candles rather than electric lights for reasons unknown. It wound left and right, twisting through several turns before opening into an old subway tunnel.
After passing through a derelict train car, the recon feed finally revealed the Voodoo Boys underground hideout in full.
What puzzled Mitch and Scorpion was that the gang appeared to be loading all their netrunning equipment onto forklifts, as though preparing to relocate entirely.
Mitch immediately opened comms. “Leo, you copy? We’ve got a situation.”
Leo’s voice came back at once. “What kind of situation?”
“They’re packing everything up. I mean everything. Looks like they’re clearing the whole base.”
Mitch transmitted the drone feed to Leo.
Leo’s first thought was that the Voodoo Boys might have discovered their operation. But that theory collapsed just as quickly—if the gang had detected them, there was no way the recon drone would still be transmitting this footage unchallenged.
And the timing of their departure from the Grand Imperial Mall was known only to their own crew. Even Mosley was unaware.
The Voodoo Boys could not possibly have known.
It was more likely coincidence.
Given that Mosley was a European NetWatch agent, his presence in Pacifica would certainly have been noticed by the gang. They might simply have decided to avoid him by abandoning the site for now.
“Leo, Scorpion’s mapped every trap in the passage. Just give the word, and we’ll breach.”
Leo considered, then shook his head. “No. Pull back and set up an ambush nearby. Keep the recon drone on them, and when they come out, hit them hard.”
According to the map provided by Rogue’s Voodoo Boy informant, the Chapel had only one entrance and exit—the hidden passage.
There could be others the informant didn’t know about, but that didn’t matter.
As long as Mitch’s team remained undetected, the gang would most likely leave through the passage, allowing the ambush to succeed.
Even if, against the odds, they used another exit unknown to Leo’s group, Scorpion still had the recon drone in position to follow them.
They would not escape.
Indoor assaults were usually more difficult than open-area combat, and with this new opportunity, Leo had no reason to stick to the original plan.
“Understood. We’re pulling back.”
Mitch had no objections. In peacetime, there were matters that could be discussed; however, on the battlefield, there could only be one voice, for insisting on different opinions would only delay the moment to strike.
He gestured for the others to follow, and everyone withdrew from the Chapel, repositioning themselves in ambush positions several dozen meters away. Scorpion left the recon drone underground, keeping its sensors trained on the Voodoo Boys movements.
Through the feed from the drone, it was clear the Voodoo Boys were in a hurry, but it did not seem as though they had detected the operation in advance. They had loaded all their hacking equipment onto a forklift and were driving it into the hidden tunnel.
Leo’s earlier sense had been correct: they were not taking another exit but moving through the tunnel. Whether that was because there was no alternative route, or because they had not discovered Mitch’s team, was irrelevant.
“Mitch, do you want me to have the drone follow them?”
“No. Since we’re certain they’re taking the tunnel, don’t tail them—we don’t want to risk being spotted. Just keep eyes on the main entrance.”
Mitch’s voice came over the comm channel with another instruction: “When they come out, hold your fire until every one of them is outside. Wait for my order.”
After a pause, he added, “Leo, once shooting starts here, the people inside the Batty Hotel will definitely be alerted.”
On the other side, Leo and his group were already out of the vehicle and heading toward the Batty Hotel.
“I know. That’s why we’re moving now. V, Lucy—you take the other entrances. The front is mine.”
Both women nodded, each taking two people with them before vanishing into the night.
Leo led the rest toward the main entrance. When they reached it, he saw that there were no guards, only two security cameras and an automated turret.
The team had no netrunners, but that was not a problem. Disabling an auto-turret did not require hacking its power supply. Leo had two Aldecaldos in his squad equipped with an Achilles tech precision rifle and a SOR-22 kinetic precision rifle. Either weapon had the firepower to turn that turret into a heap of scrap.
When the sound of sustained gunfire came from the direction of the Chapel, Leo immediately gave the word: “Take down the turret.”
Bang! Bang!
Two sharp cracks rang out, and the active turret sprouted a pair of obvious bullet holes, arcs of blue electrical current flickering inside.
Leo surged forward. “Move in.”
The others followed, rushing toward the Batty Hotel. The security cameras at the entrance swiveled toward them, but Leo put two quick shots into each—pa! pa!—shattering the lenses.
There was just over a hundred meters of open ground between them and the hotel, which they crossed quickly. But as they neared the entrance, several Voodoo Boys appeared in the doorway.
Rat-tat-tat-tat—
The Aldecaldos beside Leo opened fire, cutting down those in the doorway and driving more than a dozen others back into the lobby.
The charge was broken; Leo’s team had to scatter and find cover, returning fire at the gang members inside.
This stalemate would not work.
“Bring up the RPG.”
One Aldecaldo hoisted the launcher, sighted into the hotel lobby, and fired.
Whoosh—
A rocket streaked in and burst in a flash of bright fire inside. The return fire from the lobby faltered instantly.
“Suppress with machine guns. Everyone else, on me.”
Two gunners stayed back to pour streams of automatic fire into the lobby while Leo led the rest in a flanking advance, keeping outside the arcs of the machine guns until they were pressed against the hotel’s outer wall.
A stray round grazed an Aldecaldo’s arm, but the custom ballistic combat suit made by Leo absorbed the glancing hit; it had not even broken the skin.
