Chapter 21 - Kane
The cracked floorboards groan beneath Kane’s boots as he shifts his weight, bracing a hand on the windowsill. Ten stories down if this place gives, but the view’s worth the risk.
From this rotting old government office, he has an optimal view of the remnants of a medical checkpoint from the Collapse. Echo’s intel says Athena and Natural Order are using it to stash weapons. It’s almost too easy.
He shoulders the pulse rifle and peers through the scope. On the ground below, Viper’s squad sweeps the perimeter while Wren’s team waits in the alley. A cluster of Coda’s drones drifts near the wall, following Echo as she slinks up to a boarded-up window.
Fingers twitching at his side, Kane leans back. He glances at Coda behind him, guiding the swarm from a portable control rig. Projected in front of him are holographic screens, keeping tabs on the crew in real time.
“All units in position,” Viper crackles in his ear. “Royal 8 kept their word. Coast is clear.”
He taps the side of his visor. “Good work, Echo.”
The words are strange on his tongue. But Echo pulled off something he didn’t think was possible, got a rival crew to let them operate in their territory. Against a mutual threat, but still, it’s not something he would normally agree to.
“Wow, boss man,” Echo chuckles. “High praise. I really like this new—”
“Cut the chatter and get ready,” Kane cuts her off and checks the scope one last time.
Two Natural Order members guard the alley entrance, a drone already trained on them. Four more sit tied up at the far end of the street under Wren’s watch. Through the scope, four heat signatures burn inside the warehouse. Armed and waiting, like Viper’s crew.
Everything’s lined up, but Kane can’t shake the itch to move. If things go south, all he can do is bark orders and watch it fall apart.
But if Kane can’t trust his lieutenants to run a mission without hovering, how is he supposed to make time for Rafael?
“Echo, Coda.” Kane draws a breath. “Move in.”
The lieutenants move the instant the signal drops. Echo slices through the side window with her laser while Coda’s swarm dives toward the entrance guards. They freeze in shock, bows half-drawn, but the drones are faster.
Tranquilizer darts hiss through the air, dropping a few where they stand. The rest reel away, only to be caught by the backup drones deploying an EMP net that crackles across their metal wings. Shouts rise from the trapped guards, cut short as Echo lobs a grenade through the breach.
A smirk tugs at Kane’s mouth as smoke spills through the cracks of the outpost. But that familiar tightness returns fast. This is only phase one. Too early to breathe.
“Viper, go!” he orders.
“Moving in,” Viper calls back, gesturing for his team to follow down below.
With Pixie covering their flank, the enforcers sweep around the building toward the front.
As they round the corner, three robed Natural Order members stagger out of the door, coughing through the smoke.
By the time they recover, Viper’s people have them surrounded, weapons leveled.
The trio drops to their knees without a fight.
Clean and precise. Exactly as he trained them. Then the feeling curdles. Only alarm bells ring in his head.
One, two, three—
A Natural Order member is missing. Kane points the scope toward the outpost. Another heat signature flares. Right where Pixie and Viper are headed.
His heart lurches. He should’ve been down there. Could’ve stopped this.
Before he can warn them, the missing member bursts through the door. Robe flaring behind her, she clutches a flamethrower in shaky hands, wearing an old antique oxygen mask.
Fire gushes from the nozzle, sweeping low and wide. Viper’s crew dives for cover, some behind debris and others snapping up their energy shields just in time.
“Cod—” A high-powered security drone drops into the fray before Kane can finish. The machine hovers over the flame-wielding cultist, mere feet from Pixie as she darts for cover. Once she’s in the clear, the drone unleashes a jet of water.
The Natural Order member staggers, her robes soaked and flames snuffed out in an instant. She barely manages a gasp before Viper’s crew swarms her. In seconds, they disarm her, rip off the mask, and lock her in crackling cuffs.
As Pixie ties up the remaining members, Viper’s voice crackles through the comm. “Clear.”
Kane exhales slowly, turning to watch the rest through Coda’s projections. “Proceed.”
Viper’s enforcers march into the booth, a swarm of drones following behind.
Their feed flickers, then sharpens to reveal crates of chem-flamers, cases of electrified arrows, and racks of shock-charged machetes stacked to the ceiling.
Crude and outdated tech, but dangerous. Too advanced for the purists. No doubt Athena’s fingerprints.
Through the feed, Kane watches Viper’s squad tear through the cache, smashing crates and cutting cables, clearing room for the next step. As they fall back, Echo enters the checkpoint in a protective jumpsuit, acid blaster in hand.
The captured cultists scream through the comms. Echo ignores them, winking at the drones, then spraying acid over the wreckage.
His mouth lifts. The cache is gone. So is Athena’s leverage.
As the feed cuts out, his gaze shifts to Coda. The techie glances up from the console with a rare, almost smile.
“Athena won’t even know what hit her,” Echo boasts in their channel.
Kane peers through the scope, spotting her emerging from the fog of the booth. “But I think we should head out,” she goes on. “Royal 8’s probably getting a bit antsy.”
He hums. “Agreed. Everyone, prepare to move out. Wren, stand by for prisoner transport. Viper’s squad, complete a final sweep. Echo, inform Royal 8 we’re leaving.” His gaze flicks to Coda, who’s already dismantling equipment. He glances at his wristlink, checking the time.
Fifteen minutes until he’s supposed to be in Midtown. Fifteen minutes until he can see the one person on his mind for the past three days.
Though he could stick around longer to oversee the cleanup, ensure his lieutenants don’t encounter anyone else on the—
“Don’t worry about a thing, boss man,” Echo calls through the commlink. “Get out of here and have fun on your—”
“Stop talking if you want to sleep through the night.” Kane’s tone sharpens.
Her laugh rings in his ears. “Okay, okay. Just relax a bit, alright?”
His fingers clench around the scope, but he picks up speed, packing the gear with Coda.
“I’ll take over from here,” Coda says, securing the last case. “We know the protocol.”
Kane stares at the techie. Does he know why Kane’s leaving? Who he’s going to see? No, even Echo only has a guess.
He gives a final nod, checks in with Wren and Viper’s teams, and confirms the routes are clear. Then comes the long descent down ten flights of stairs that leave his legs burning and remind him why he keeps up his uncle’s morning workout.
On the ground outside, what’s left of a maintenance bay hides his exit point.
The faded signage warns of “Authorized Personnel Only,” a relic from when someone besides Factura delivered goods.
Under its rusted awning, he strips off his tactical gear, pulls on stashed civilian clothes, and tosses a tarp aside to uncover his green HOV bike.
Twenty minutes later, Kane’s racing through Midtown traffic, weaving between lines of chrome HOV trains and luxury cars too clean to belong to locals. On every side, holographic billboards flare across the towers, their glare burning his eyes as ads shout over the wind whipping his helmet.
Midtown’s what the corps like to call “revitalized” after the Collapse. Glass towers built over what used to be man-made homes and family-run businesses. All before everything was bought out and became a sanitized drone-built hellscape.
His second time here in years, he should be worrying about the risk of coming back, or about his crew finishing the job in San Bajos. But his pulse says otherwise. The thought of seeing Rafael wins out. Kane kicks the bike into turbo.
Four, maybe five blocks fly past before he eases off the throttle. But it’s already too late.
Yellow lights flare in the rearview, alarms wailing through the wind.
VitaCorp security. His jaw locks.
Better them than the NCPD. The cops would’ve pegged him as the Chrome Baron two blocks ago.
Vice control is one of the few scraps of power the corps left them. Everything else got sold off.
But the corps never miss a chance to haul someone in for speeding. Makes for good press.
Besides, Kane promised himself that if he kept seeing Rafael, his world would never touch here.
A new alert pings on his dash.
>VITACORP SIGNAL LOCK: CONFIRMED.
“Fuck.”
Speeding won’t shake them now. Kane cuts between two luxury HOVs and flicks the console, opening Coda’s channel.
“Baron?” the voice crackles through his helmet.
“Coda, I need a ghost protocol on my bike. VitaCorp’s on my tail.” He ducks under a Factura hauler, the bike’s frame scraping close to metal. The oversized HOV gives him cover but not enough distance.
Static hums for a beat before Coda answers, “On it.”
The dashboard flickers and stutters. In the rearview, three flashing lights barrel closer. Another enforcer has joined the chase.
Kane banks hard around the next block, but they don’t let up. He grits his teeth. “Coda, status?”
“Ghost protocol is…” A chime pings in his helmet as the display steadies. “Operative.”
>STEALTH MODE: ACTIVE
Not exactly subtle, but who cares?
Kane jerks the bike into a tight U-turn behind a line of HOVs idling at the signal. Reversing course, he slips into a nearby parking garage and kills the throttle, coasting to a hover in the shadows.
Alarms wail outside, growing louder until the enforcers rush past. Their lights sweep across the street, flash through the entrance, then fade.
>VITACORP SIGNAL: LOST.
He exhales slowly. “Excellent work, Coda,” Kane calls out. “I expect nothing less.”
Coda’s name fades from the display.
His gaze drifts to the navigation. Only one block from Rafael’s. Might as well stop here and walk the rest. He turns the bike deeper into the parking garage and eases into a parking spot.
Outside, VitaCorp drones circle Rafael’s complex like vultures, sensors tucked behind every door. Coda’s patch scrambles most of them, but if the tech’s been upgraded, that margin shrinks fast.
Still, the danger is worth the risk to see Rafael again.
A realization that sends a shiver down his spine.