The Alvarado vans for the mercenaries had mostly been destroyed in the earlier rocket bombardment. Fortunately, there were not many mercenaries left who could still fight, so after some emergency repairs, the remaining Alvarados could somehow still carry the ten mercenaries able to keep fighting.
After quickly stabilizing the four severely wounded and treating the lightly wounded, Oliver got into a new Alvarado.
"Do you think those four can make it back to the hospital?"
"Who knows? All we can do is pray the hospital gets them out before the gangers and organ harvesters arrive."
Maine looked back through the rear window at the severely wounded lying in a relatively stable spot. "If only they had Trauma Team memberships. Then they could have been picked up by an AV not long after getting hurt."
Trauma Team: a medical corporation with special squads made up of medical personnel professionally trained for combat. As long as you had the money and could afford the insurance, they would arrive whenever a member client was harmed, rain or shine. Anyone who tried to stop them from rescuing their clients would be attacked—even another Trauma Team squad.
"Give it a rest."
Oliver felt Maine had said something that went without saying. "Even the lowest Silver membership costs ten thousand eurodollars a month. Do you really think mercs like us, who spend money as soon as we get it, have the steady income to afford that?"
"That's true."
As the vehicles gradually drove farther away, Maine withdrew his gaze and brought up another matter. "How much do you think they'll get paid?"
"Paid? You mean for the job?"
Carl tilted her head and glanced at Maine, not quite understanding why he was asking such a pointless question. "The fixer explained the job terms clearly, didn't they? They have to escort them all the way there. 'There.' Anyone who died before that, or was too badly injured to carry out the job, doesn't get a single eddie."
"Fuck, I knew it."
Maine covered his forehead. "Those Corpo Dogs really had it all calculated. I was wondering why they seemed so generous. Turns out they were deliberately trying to wear us down so they could pay out less. I should've known. Whenever a Corpo Dog bleeds money, there's always some scheme behind it."
"And what's even sadder is what I told Oliver before getting in the car. Maybe some of the Corpo Dogs paying us never intended to shortchange us, but some Corpo Dogs handling the job can't resist getting ideas and want to pocket the money."
Same old story: sensible Corpo Dogs paid enough, but the ones who weren't sensible swallowed the money those sensible Corpo Dogs had paid, then expected mercenaries to be understanding about it.
"Fuck, the more I think about it, the more this job feels like complete shit. It's really getting on my nerves."
Maine had probably mostly taken street jobs before, so he really did not know much about corporate jobs. After this, though, he probably did not intend to find out more.
"Right? Just thinking about it makes my blood pressure rise. If they don't pay enough, it's hard to get anything done."
As Carl spoke, she noticed the Arasaka Corporation vehicles slowing down, then beginning to clear the road for the mercenary vehicles. From the looks of it, they were—
"Damn it, are they planning to make us test the waters again? When they need us, they send us off to die. When they don't, they tell us to get the hell out of the way. And once the fighting starts, you never see any of them!"
Jack's temper flared immediately. He could accept risking his life for a three-hundred-thousand job; he had been prepared for that. But why did the employer have to be this aggravating too? He really was starting not to want the money.
"They're banking on our sunk costs."
Carl said, "They see how much we've already put into this and figure we'll grit our teeth and keep going for the money, so they use us without restraint. After all, if we quit, the people who died will have died for nothing."
"Aren't they afraid we'll really quit, or turn on them?"
"That's why they're betting we won't dare."
This time, even Jack started swearing oaths. "If I ever take another Arasaka job, I'm an idiot."
Militech could stay on the list for now, at least because of Blanca and the good jobs she had given them.
"I have to say, Blanca, that Corpo Dog, really does have a conscience."
Oliver said, "Without comparison, there's no contrast."
"I can tell you a Corpo Dog joke right now. Arasaka works from six in the morning to two at night—six today until two tomorrow, twenty hours a day—and yet Corpo Dogs still have time in their spare hours to scheme over us mercenaries' hard-earned pay."
Carl laughed. "Fuck them. So the moment you join a corporation, you automatically learn how to exploit people?"
"What do you mean, automatically learn it?"
Carl's remark made Jack laugh, though more accurately, he was laughing from anger.
While the four chatted, the Alvarado drove itself through the Arasaka security convoy that had cleared the way.
Once they took the lead again, the doors beside every one of them were unlocked and loose, ensuring they could jump out and flee at any time. The earlier rocket attack had left too deep an impression on them. They would probably keep this "good" habit from now on.
But the journey that followed was somewhat beyond Carl and the others' expectations. The road was remarkably peaceful. They encountered no more enemies all the way out of the northern Industrial Park of Watson District.
Had the attackers already committed all their forces, failed, and retreated?
Carl wanted to comfort herself with that thought, but she noticed something strange.
The northern Industrial Park of Watson District was Maelstrom territory. Logically, they should have seen a few Maelstrom members by the roadside. But from the moment they entered until they left, Carl—who had kept watch outside because of the rocket attack—had not seen those signature red-glowing cybernetic eyes even once.
The sea before a storm is always calm and still.
The closer they got to California Avenue, where Azure Tower stood, the quieter the atmosphere in the car became. All four of them could feel the oppressive tension of an approaching storm.
When Azure Tower's skyscraper, rising straight into the sky, had already come into view, Jack suddenly asked Carl a question. "How much time is left?"
Carl knew what Jack meant, and she knew why he was asking her despite already knowing the time.
"One hour and ten minutes."
One hour and ten minutes left?
No.
Jack looked at Azure Tower, which was only about ten minutes away.
There were only ten minutes left.
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