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Chapter 292 c
🕑 Added 2025-06-19 15:05:04 +0000 UTCChapter 292 c
2-in-1 chapter
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Leo lifted his left hand and drew the Tech‑Revolver from its holster without charging it, firing immediately.
With a thunderous crack, the bullet shattered the already crippled car window, splattering the passenger’s head until half of it was blown away, and was dead without question.
“Leo, get back!” Jackie shouted.
He looked back to see Jackie had already spun the car around. In the backseat, V and Lucy maintained suppressing fire on the white pickup truck trailing them, ensuring that none of the figures in the exposed bed dared to man the mounted general‑purpose machine gun.
Leo pulled two grenades from his pocket, tossed them toward the white pickup, and immediately returned to the car without looking back.
There was a deafening explosion, and the pickup burst into roaring flames, the conflagration towering as acrid smoke rolled over it.
Once Leo had climbed aboard, Jackie hit the gas, and they sped away from the chaotic scene.
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They drove steadily along the highway leading out of the city, gradually putting distance between themselves and the site of the firefight. Leo scanned their surroundings and, seeing no armed pursuers, allowed himself a small sigh of relief as he murmured, “We’re safe.”
He glanced at the others: “Everyone okay?”
Jackie, focused entirely on the road, replied without looking back, “Yeah, we’re fine.”
“José—how about you and your girlfriend?”
José’s voice trembled: “I… I think I’m okay, sir.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Sir?” José repeated.
“What is it?”
José, on the verge of tears, asked, “Are we really safe? Have we shaken them off? Is the Salamanca Cartel still going to come after us?”
Leo could not answer that with certainty, so he attempted to reassure him: “Stop worrying about that now. A real man doesn’t break down crying. Stay strong.”
José nodded, saying softly, “I… I understand.”
Leo felt relieved that his rescue, unlike those in movies who would scream or rush into danger, had remained composed—ducking and covering during the firefight without panicking or shouting, which would have jeopardized everyone’s safety. Fortunately, both José and María had behaved responsibly.
Jackie checked the rearview mirror, then spoke over the comms: “Leo, what do you think? Did the cartel respond too fast?”
“Focus on driving, Jackie,” Leo paused, then answered, “They were way too fast.”
From rescuing the hostage and reaching the airport to recognizing the threat and fleeing the city—they had lost no time. But what was truly frightening was how quickly the Salamanca Cartel had reacted and executed their counterattack—blocking the airport, sending thugs to the precise car, and setting up an ambush point; their speed and precision were shocking.
Leo then looked thoughtful, opened the window, and leaned partly out to survey the sky. It was clear and bright—sunny enough to rival the calm sea off Hawaii at dawn. He squinted and activated his tactical goggles to scan the sky—nothing.
“How about those optical‑cloak drones?” he wondered aloud before returning inside and slipping into the regular seat.
Jackie glanced at him: “What did you find?”
Leo shook his head. “I expected to see drones, but there’s no sign of them. Let’s not overthink it. We just need to cross the border—everything will calm down once we’re past it.”
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At the California–Mexico border, a long wall stretched from the Pacific coast eastward to Texas. Though not unscalable, the wall was topped with electrified wire, and behind it, watchtowers stood every few hundred meters, each equipped with automated turrets. Since the collapse of the United States and California’s entry into the Western States, countless migrants had tried to breach the border—none had succeeded. They either became charred corpses at the wire or were perforated by turret fire. Only official border checkpoints, manned by the Western State’s military, allowed passage.
When they arrived at one such checkpoint, there was already a long line of cars. Jackie eased their vehicle in behind the one in front, then poked his head out the window: dozens of vehicles still remained ahead.
He returned to the car and forced a grin: “Looks like we’re waiting. We can’t just rush through, can we?”
Minutes ticked by. Though they were still short of Night City, the atmosphere in the car had noticeably relaxed. José’s tear‑stained features had smoothed out. Just as the line ahead dwindled to around twenty cars, the checkpoint suddenly slammed shut—its barrier raised—with the holographic sign reading:
*“Summer hours — 08:00 to 15:00; Winter hours — 09:00 to 15:00.”*
Leo checked his watch: it was 14:36.
Jackie spat: “What the hell? Closing at three and they shut this down early?”
Despite their curses, the gate remained closed. Cars ahead had already begun U‑turning and leaving.
“Lucy, find a motel nearby,” Leo instructed.
V replied: “There’s one on the road we came in—about fifteen minutes away.”
“Good. Let’s go there.”
Jackie hesitated. “Should we try another checkpoint?”
Leo shook his head. “If this one closed early, others probably did too. Better to get a motel and try again in the morning.”
His reasoning was sound: the checkpoints were run by American authorities. Although he believed the Salamanca Cartel could corrupt Tijuana officials, he had no reason to think they could control California’s border system.
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About ten minutes later, they found the aging motel V had mentioned. Several cars were already parked outside—likely travelers stranded by the same early closure.
Jackie parked in a spot, and Leo went inside to book three adjacent rooms: one for Jackie and himself, one for V and Lucy, and the last for José and María. They put José and María furthest from the entrance for added protection.
The motel seemed over thirty years old, but the price was almost double that of a basic hotel in Tijuana. Yet given the isolation, they had little choice if they wanted shelter that was not their car.
At least José’s father, Dante Gonzalez, had promised to cover all expenses—so they could afford it. The motel provided utilities throughout the day and offered clean, decent rooms. It was expensive, but not miserable.
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Night came quickly. After dinner, Leo and Jackie fell asleep early. In the middle of the night, Leo woke sleepless and got out of bed. Approaching the window, he drew back the curtains and looked out: outside was dark, except for checkpoint lights and holographic glow, and the road beyond was eerily silent.
He watched for some time, then closed the curtains and returned to his bed. As he lay down, he heard a faint noise from the hallway—barely audible. If someone else had heard it, they might have ignored it. But Leo reached out, grabbed his tactical goggles from the bedside table, and put them on.
The red glow of the display revealed several armed figures standing in the hallway.
Leo grabbed his Murasame— and quietly slipped out of bed, then took a few light steps to the door before swinging it open forcefully and slashing.
The hitmen in the corridor hadn’t anticipated anyone opening from within. Before they could react, a blade struck the right shoulder and sliced through the left waist. Warm blood spurted across the hallway.
The remaining hitmen snapped into action, shouting, “Fire! Shoot him dead!”
But Leo moved like a panther into their midst. Suddenly, everything seemed to slow, and they could see bullets drawing ripples through the air and multiple afterimages of Leo’s blade.
Time snapped back to normal just as all the hitmen’s necks erupted in arcs of blood, and they collapsed. In their final moments, their eyes registered the elegance of Leo’s blood-stained Murasame blade.
The door swung open wider.
V and Lucy burst into the hallway.
Because they weren’t at home but outside, Leo had specifically instructed them before returning to their room not to take off their clothes, and instead to sleep fully dressed.
Thanks to that, both of them were able to rush out immediately after hearing the noise outside.
When they saw the bodies strewn across the hallway, the two women’s faces showed clear surprise.
Leo said flatly, “They’re hitmen from the Salamanca Cartel.”
Although these people had no visible tattoos or identifiers, anyone with half a brain could tell this had everything to do with the Salamanca Cartel.
At that moment, footsteps sounded behind them—Jackie had also woken up and stepped out of the room.
When he saw the bodies, he let out a harsh curse.
Jackie looked grim.
In fact, apart from Leo who remained expressionless, Jackie, V, and Lucy all looked uneasy.
They had thought that after leaving Tijuana, the Salamanca Cartel would lose their trail, and wouldn’t be able to find them so soon.
Yet they had only just checked into this motel, and the cartel’s hitmen had already tracked them down in the middle of the night.
“How did they find us? How did they know we were here?”
Jackie couldn’t understand it.
Even if the Salamanca Cartel had guessed that Leo’s group would head back to Night City and try to cross the border, how could they know so precisely that this exact motel would be their stop for the night?
After all, the road from Tijuana to the border had more than one motel.
There were plenty along the way—unless the cartel’s killers checked each one, which seemed impossible.
“This isn’t the time to worry about that. Jackie, there are still a few more hitmen downstairs. Let’s take care of them first.”
Leo waved his hand, signaling Jackie to focus on the immediate threat.
He shared the enemy positions from his tactical visor’s scan with the other three.
“Lucy, go to José’s room and protect them. V, Jackie, we’re clearing out the rest.”
No one objected.
Democracy might have value elsewhere, but in a moment like this, only one voice mattered.
Besides, Leo had never been wrong before—they trusted him completely.
Leo returned to his room and came back out with three guns and a grenade.
He handed the Satara shotgun and the grenade to Jackie, gave the Achilles precision rifle to V, and kept the Dian for himself.
Leo gestured with his hand and took the lead with the Dian, followed by Jackie, with V taking the rear.
According to the scan, the remaining enemies were all downstairs in the lobby.
They were likely guarding the entrance to prevent Leo’s group from escaping through the windows.
After all, the motel was only two stories tall—jumping from the second floor was unlikely to be fatal unless someone was extraordinarily unlucky.
The three of them moved quietly to the staircase leading to the first floor. Through the comms channel, Leo instructed the others to stay close to the wall and wait while he peeked around the corner.
From his position at the top of the stairs, he could see only one enemy.
The rest were hidden from view by obstacles.
Leo paused briefly, then formulated a plan to eliminate them all.
“Jackie, get the grenade ready.”
Jackie put down the Satara and pulled out the fragmentation grenade Leo had handed him earlier.
“Don’t rush. Wait for my signal.” Leo turned to V. “V, use the precision rifle. Take that one out.”
V nodded, stepped forward past Leo, and knelt down. She raised the Achilles, lining up the enemy visible from the stairs in her scope.
The Achilles charged almost instantly, taking less than a second.
A moment later, the shot blew a massive hole through the enemy’s chest, sending the body flying.
The shot’s power was brutal—and so was its sound.
The thunderous gunshot startled the rest of the enemies in the lobby below.
They shouted in Spanish, scrambling to find cover.
But this was just a motel, not a fortified bunker. Their cover amounted to nothing more than tables and sofas.
And those weren’t enough to stop the Achilles, a rifle that could punch through walls.
When V fired again, taking out two more enemies hiding behind makeshift cover, piercing both them and their protection, the remaining enemies realized they couldn’t stay hidden.
Otherwise, they’d just become target practice.
Leo had intentionally held back, letting only V engage to mislead the enemy.
And soon enough, the enemies took the bait—
One of them shouted in Spanish, “There’s only one of them! Don’t panic! We’ll rush him together!”
They abandoned cover and charged toward the staircase, firing as they moved, trying to suppress V with bullets.
V retreated from the stairwell. Bullets tore into the stairs and walls, kicking up dust.
“Jackie, grenade!”
Jackie nodded, pulling the pin on the grenade he had kept in hand.
He didn’t expose himself, just tossed the grenade from behind cover, letting it bounce down the stairs.
Just as the enemies reached the base of the staircase, ready to rush up, the grenade rolled to the bottom.
“A grenade! Take cover—”
Boom!
As the explosion thundered through the motel, Leo leaped from behind the wall, the Dian blazing in his hands.
