Chapter 7: Operation – Breakpoint
It was a night of shadows and silence—perfect for a hit.
> "Beep, beep, beep... Yo, team. I'm the netrunner Kay pulled in. Sasha Yakovleva, at your service. I've linked into your neural feeds and will provide intel and net support for this op."
Riko Vega turned, his chrome-plated jaw flexing as he glanced toward Kay for confirmation. Kay gave a slight nod, cigarette glowing under the flicker of a busted neon sign. With Sasha in the mix, this job just got a hell of a lot smoother.
> "I've jacked into the Scavs' subnet—piggybacking off a dirty relay node. Factory layout's a mess, but I've patched together their neural heat signatures. Here's what we got..."
A 3D schematic blinked into Kay's retinal HUD, laced with red outlines marking enemies and active zones.
> "Twenty heat signatures total. Basement's got an op room—four Scavs busy slicing. Ground floor, far right, there's a lounge zone: twelve doped out on Black Lace. Far left, you got a monitoring booth—only one guard. Three more scattered, roaming. I'll mark 'em as they move. Get ready. This ain't gonna stay quiet for long."
Kay's interface pinged a text message to Sasha.
> "Smooth work, Sasha. You just boosted our odds tenfold."
> "Heh... Call me when you need a miracle, Doc. And uh, feel free to buy me a drink at the Puff Bar later. First one's on you."
> "Deal. I like working with talent."
Kay smiled. Sasha had potential—green to Night City, sure, but sharp. She hadn't been scooped up by the Mann Squad yet, which meant she was still freelance. Useful.
Meanwhile, the team had moved into position outside the factory. The surveillance cams were blacked out thanks to Sasha. Riko gave Kay a quick nod.
"Let's move," Kay said, voice low and hard.
Riko surged forward, breaking from cover like a chrome ghost. He hugged the wall and sprinted low, covering the twenty meters to the monitoring room. The door creaked slightly as he entered, startling the lone Scavenger guard.
Too slow.
Riko's chrome fist blurred. A sickening crunch followed. One punch—neck snapped like dry twigs.
He dragged the body back behind the terminal, slipping out through the back window just as Sasha's whispered ping came in again.
> "Monitoring down. Cameras dead. You're ghosts now. Move fast."
Kay exhaled smoke and took a drag from his cigarette. The battle was already won in his mind. Now it was just cleanup.
---
They regrouped at the door to the lounge.
The stench of synthetic drugs and sweat seeped through the thin, rusted door. Without explosives, they needed another plan.
Riko stepped up, arm morphing as internal plates shifted and whirred. A concealed underarm launcher slid into place.
"Time to meet Big Baby," Riko muttered.
He aimed through a busted window and fired.
> Boom.
A firestorm ripped through the lounge.
Screams. Shrapnel. Melting chrome.
Before the remaining Scavs could rise, the rest of the team burst in, bullets tearing through the chaos. The slaughter was fast—clinical.
> "Twelve down. Lounge clear," Riko reported.
> "No reaction from the op room. Soundproofed," Sasha added. "Still four warm bodies in there."
Three operatives split off to eliminate the stragglers.
Riko led the rest toward the basement—toward the operating room.
As they climbed down rusted metal stairs, one of the team stepped wrong. The clatter echoed.
Inside the room, the Scavs paused.
But then they shrugged. Just one of their own, they figured.
Wrong.
Riko signaled. The door slid open.
Gunfire erupted—sharp, precise. The three Scavs at the table didn't even scream. Their torsos tore open, blood and synthgut spraying against stained tile.
The 'doctor'—a gang surgeon with shaking hands and blood under his nails—ducked.
But too late.
Riko loomed above him, gun aimed point-blank.
> Boom.
Brain matter splashed the walls.
Silence followed.
---
Kay stepped inside.
The operating room stank of ammonia and old pain. There were bodies. There was blood. But this was Night City.
This was mercy.
"Kay, targets eliminated," Riko radioed. "The bastards had a lab for organ stripping down here. Fucking monsters…"
Before Kay could reply, his neural HUD flickered. Sasha's voice returned—tight, panicked.
> "Incoming! Vito just rolled up to the front gate. Their boss is here—and he's packing a Type-31. Heavy heat."
From the street, headlights carved through the dark. Kay flicked his cigarette away and unslung his pistol.
Through the grime-smeared windows, he saw him—broad shoulders, buzzcut, heavy cyberware under sleeveless armor. The Scav leader.
And in his arms—an M-206 Type-31 smartmachine gun. High-caliber, military-grade. The kind that chews through walls and people alike.
Kay narrowed his eyes.
He stepped into the streetlight, raised his pistol, and fired first.
> Bang.
The shot cracked like thunder.