Charter Hill


    December 18th


    2069


    Sophie’s Mackinaw growled against the uneven roads of Charter Hill as she drove towards her destination. The streets were quiet early in the morning, though there was still the occasional idiot screeching down the road followed either by gunfire or sirens. She’d always found it odd the police were so invested in such small issues, rather than the gangs. Then again, most of the cops are probably being paid off.


    She forced herself to focus on her objective, though her fingers continued tapping absently. The warehouse mentioned in the datashard didn’t make sense. Or at the very least, it was strange. It was too open, too easily found. And if the Tygers and scavs were working together, there had to be something there.


    Drugs, weapons, blackmarket chrome…even people. Maybe some kind of mix? I just can’t figure out why the two groups are working together.


    She huffed, frustrated at the lack of clarity. Only one way to find out, I guess.


    Her truck eventually rolled to a stop just down the street from the coordinates. She cut the engine, letting the silence settle. She stared at the building.


    No movement and no guards. No cameras perched on the building’s edges. Just an empty, nondescript shipping warehouse. It looked like it had been abandoned for years, rust creeping along the edges of metal containers stacked in blocky towers outside.


    Too quiet. Suspiciously quiet.


    Sophie stepped out, making sure her weapons were secure. Her blades, pistols, and most importantly, her new hidden blades. Everything else, like her Achilles, was in her inventory. The thought of testing her new weapons again made her fingers twitch with anticipation, but she focused.


    Approaching the warehouse, she kept low, moving along the side of the building. She scanned the walls. There was fresh graffiti but no signs of recent maintenance. The place really did look abandoned. But something gnawed at her. A gut feeling, that something was seriously wrong with the place.


    She slipped through a half-broken side door, her footfalls pressing lightly on the dusty floor. The scent of old metal and stale air filled her nose. Long-dead fluorescent lights lined the ceiling, their casings covered in cobwebs. The vast space inside was filled with rusting shelves, some collapsed under their own weight. Large shipping containers were scattered throughout, some sealed, others pried open by looters and left empty.


    Sophie moved cautiously between them, eyes scanning for anything out of place.


    She saw nothing.


    No security systems. No motion detectors. Not even a power source running to the building.


    Why put an important location in a place with no security? Is this place actually a dead end? But why was this place marked on that datashard?


    It made no sense.


    Her boots scuffed against the ground, kicking up a small puff of dust. She paused.


    She crouched, lowering her gaze to the floor. The dust was wrong. Most of the warehouse had a thick layer of it, seemingly undisturbed. But near some of the containers, there were faint marks. As if someone had recently walked through.


    She followed the oddities carefully. The trail wasn’t obvious, but it was there. A few steps led her towards the right side of the warehouse, near a cluster of containers stacked against the wall.


    Her eyes immediately honed in on something distinctly out of place. A small rag, half-hidden stuck to a bolt on one of the containers.


    It was dark, allowing it to blend in with the grime but when she picked it up, the texture was unmistakable.


    Flaky.


    Dried blood.


    Her jaw tightened. Sophie activated her optics, running a scan on the fabric.


    The blood was old. At least a few days, judging by the flakiness. She could feel the dread in her stomach, coiling tighter. It was proof the warehouse wasn’t a dead end, at least. But what that really meant, she wasn’t sure.


    Her eyes flicked across the ground again. If there was one sign of blood, there had to be more. She expanded her scan, sweeping the floor in a wider arc. At first, nothing. Then-


    A faint smear. Nearly invisible, but there.


    Sophie followed the faint trace, stepping carefully. The trail was barely noticeable, only a few droplets here and there, leading towards the very back of the warehouse. There was no way she would have found it in the dark without first finding the rag. The further she went, the quieter the space seemed to become.


    Then she stopped.


    The trail abruptly ended at one of the shipping containers.


    Unlike many of the others, this one was locked. A thick metal latch secured the doors shut. Strange.


    She curled her chrome fingers into a fist.


    Let’s see how tough this thing is.


    With a sharp exhale, she drove her fist into the lock. The impact sent a sharp clang echoing through the warehouse. The metal groaned, but it held. She hit it again.


    And again.


    The fourth punch sent the broken lock clattering to the ground.


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    Sophie flexed her hand. For once, I’m glad I can’t get detailed sensations through this thing. That would’ve hurt like a bitch.


    She pried the container doors open.


    The first thing she saw was blood, streaked across the metal floor in uneven smears. The patterns suggested it didn’t just belong to one person. No, it was layers of blood. In her unprofessional opinion, the oldest was at least a few months old, if not a year.


    Her gaze shifted to the back.


    A mound of boxes. Strange, just like the warehouse had been. Wrong.


    She approached cautiously, in case there was a trap. Reaching out, she grabbed the topmost box and yanked it away. Then another. After nearly a dozen boxes, she saw what they’d been hiding.


    A trapdoor?


    Sophie felt her pulse quicken.


    Her fingers brushed against the metal, feeling the cool surface. No handle. Just a simple panel with a locking mechanism. She reached into her inventory, retrieving a spare knife. Sliding the blade into the seam, she wrenched it up, forcing the lock to give way. Despite the knife bending slightly, the lock broke.


    With a low creak, she lifted the trapdoor. She was greeted by darkness.


    A set of stairs descending into a tunnel stretched out before her. Even with her Kiroshis, her vision struggled to penetrate the darkness to see the bottom. Cold, stale air seeped out from below.


    Sophie exhaled slowly.


    This isn’t just an abandoned warehouse. Someone’s gone through a lot of effort to keep this place hidden.


    She took a step down the stairs then took one last glance at the warehouse before closing the trapdoor behind her. The heavy metal panel settled into place with a dull thud, sealing her within the underground passage. Normally she would have left it open, as an escape route, but if someone arrived while she was down there, she didn’t want the open door to give away her presence.


    Inside the tunnel, the air shifted. It was cold, stagnant and heavy with something far worse than simple decay. A scent clung to the walls, seeping into her lungs. The smell of death. The kind that no amount of cleaning would ever remove.


    The tunnel stretched forward in ominous silence, its walls slick with something she didn’t want to think about. The floor squelched beneath her boots, and she knew without looking that she was stepping through more blood. Probably other gunk too.


    She clenched her jaw. She had seen crime in all its forms, but this felt wrong in a way she couldn’t yet define.


    Deeper she went, the darkness seeming to stretch endlessly ahead. If not for the dark vision module in her optics, she’d have been entirely blind. Faintly, a dim glow appeared in the distance, barely piercing the suffocating black. The closer she got, the stronger the chill in the air became, sending goosebumps along her biological arm.


    Finally, the tunnel opened into a cavernous room. Sophie halted at the threshold, eyes narrowing as she scanned the space.


    It was massive. Far larger than she expected for something hidden beneath a warehouse. The ceiling was reinforced with thick steel beams, the floor stained in dark patches that needed no confirmation. The most disturbing sight, however, was the cages.


    Towering, reinforced with thick bars, and large enough to hold multiple people at once.


    They were empty.


    Yet the stench of human waste, sweat, and blood lingered. The suffering had seeped into the walls, never to fade.


    Sophie swallowed down the wave of disgust rising in her throat. Anger too, began to flicker to life. Memories flashed past her eyes and she grit her teeth, forcing them away.


    She moved carefully, boots making almost no sound against the floor as she approached one of the cages. Dried, bloody handprints marked the bars; desperate, clawing shapes as if someone had tried to wrench themselves free. She spotted fingernail scratches on the walls too, some deep enough to crack the brick.


    Her fingers curled into fists.


    Cattle. They were treated like cattle.


    She stepped away, scanning the room further with cold eyes. There were two adjacent areas. One looked like some kind of break room, with discarded food containers, a few filthy chairs, and an old couch that had been slashed open. The other was an office of some sort, a small desk and a computer still sitting atop it.


    What stood out most, though, was the lack of dust.


    Sophie crouched near the floor, running a gloved finger over the surface. Barely anything stuck to her finger.


    They must have cleared out recently…But why did that shard have this place marked? Unless they haven’t actually abandoned the place. Maybe they just don’t have any captives to keep here.


    Her gut twisted at the thought.


    Standing, she moved to the office, her attention locking onto the computer. If she could get in, maybe she could figure out exactly what had been happening here.


    She tapped at the keyboard. It was locked.


    Not particularly surprising, but annoying nonetheless. Her netrunning skills were still rudimentary. Hacking a tv or radio was one thing, but if this had any sort of actual encryption, it would take time. She pulled out her personal link, preparing to connect her cyberdeck when she heard a noise.


    Voices.


    Her instincts triggered instantly. She dropped low, slipping into the shadows beside the desk.


    Boots clomped against the concrete, accompanied by the sound of careless, easy conversation.


    Two men entered.


    One was unmistakably a Tyger Claw; tattoos lining his arms, a bright yellow jacket draped over his shoulders. The other wore a holographic mask, its shifting digital display marking him as a scav.


    Sophie remained completely still.


    “…Told you,” the scav was saying, voice thick with amusement. “Whole place is clean, no one’s gonna touch it. You’d never even know it’s here.”


    The Tyger let out an appreciative grunt, glancing around. “Big, too.”


    “Big’s good,” the scav chuckled. “Can hold a hundred easy. No cameras either. No prying eyes.”


    The Tyger nodded slowly, his gaze sweeping the room. “And the deal’s still on?”


    “Yeah,” the scav confirmed. “My crew’s bringing the first twenty by the end of the week. No need to worry, choom. You’ll get your merchandise.”


    Sophie’s grip tightened on her pistol.


    They talked more, discussing security, transport routes and payment. Nothing specific. Nothing exceptionally useful. Just vague logistics, making it increasingly clear that the real information wasn’t something they needed to discuss here.


    She’d heard enough though.


    Slipping a hand to her belt, she palmed a handful of flash pellets. A sharp flick of her wrist sent them clattering onto the floor between the two men.


    The sudden burst of blinding light and deafening noise immediately threw them into disarray. The Tyger swore, stumbling back, while the scav let out a strangled curse.


    Sophie was already moving.


    She surged forward, slamming a punch into the Tyger’s gut before twisting and delivering a sharp kick to the scav’s temple. He was out instantly, mask cracked. A knee to the face knocked the Tyger out cold.


    Within minutes, she had them bound with a length of scavenged cable, securing their hands behind their backs.


    Then, she punched the Tyger awake.


    His head snapped up, eyes dazed but filled with rage. “What the-” He looked at her, slowly coming out of his daze. “You little-”


    She grabbed his collar, dragging his face closer. “What are you doing here? Tell me!” She snarled at the man.


    The Tyger spat blood, sneering. “Go fuck yourself, bitch.”


    Sophie’s expression didn’t change. She let him go, then drove her fist into his ribs.


    He choked on a gasp.


    “Let’s try again,” she said, venom in her voice. “Who’s running this operation?”


    The Tyger’s defiance wavered, but he still bared his teeth. “I’m not telling you shit!”


    She broke his nose.


    He howled, thrashing against his restraints, blood streaming down his face.


    Sophie grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “You’re going to talk.”


    He glared at her, eyes wild with pain and fury. But fear was creeping in now. She punched him again.


    He gave her a name. Akita Hazama. The leader of the Tyger’s involved.


    She turned to the scav, who was only just waking up. She unscrewed the silencer on her pistol, then shot the Tyger in the leg. The deafening crack, followed by loud screaming, woke the man up.


    “You,” she said.


    He flinched, staring at her through his cracked mask.


    “Why are you here?”


    He hesitated.


    Sophie sneered beneath her menpo. “Fine. Have it your way.”


    A knife spun into her hand as she began carving thin lines into the scav’s arm.


    He screamed, terror and pain in his voice. “I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you! Please, stop!” She did, and for a moment, the man relaxed. Then the blade punched into his shoulder. He howled. A twist of the knife and it turned to sobs. He didn’t resist after that.


    She forced as many details as she could from him. Routes. Shipment sizes. Dates. Everything confirmed by the Tyger.


    By the time she was satisfied, both men were sobbing, shaking with pain.


    Sophie stood.


    Bastards. This is what you deserve. This is justice.


    Two loud shots silenced them, their faces forever twisted into pained grimaces.


    She left the underground nightmare behind, stepping into the night with blood still cooling on her gloves. People needed to die. A lot of people. A new mission only confirmed that fact.


    Mission Complete


    Uncover what kind of deal the Tygers have with the scavs.


    Difficulty: Medium


    Rewards: 2000 L-Coins, 5000 Eurodollars, +2 Investigation Proficiency, New Mission


    New Mission


    Eliminate those involved with the joint human trafficking ring run by the Tygers and scavs.


    Difficulty: Medium


    Rewards: 5000 L-Coins, 10,000 Eurodollars, Various Proficiency Increases