Cyberpunk: Archangel

Chapter 2: The Crew

Night City, March 22, 2073, Two hours after the Oni Gig.

Michael opened his eyes, blinking as he slowly regained his vision. As he came to his senses, he noticed that his head was throbbing in pain. He groaned and tried to reach up to hold his own head, but was met with immediate resistance. He was tied up with rope, and he was dangling upside down. As Michael's vision slowly came back into focus, he saw that sitting in front him was an absolute behemoth of a man. Dude was kitted out in a lot of chrome, and looked like he had been in the biz for a while. "Who are you?" Michael asked in a daze. "And where the hell am I?"

The man leaned forward in his seat, and placed one arm on top of his knee. "If you want me to answer your questions," the man said, his tone firm but not necessarily aggressive. "Then you're going to answer mine."

Michael looked around, and saw that there were at least four other people in the room with them. Including the woman that shot Oni. Her jacket was partially burnt and covered with ash, presumably from the explosion she narrowly dodged. Michael then remembered most of what happened. "Your friend over there shot the guy I was sent to grab," Michael growled, tilting his head in the woman's direction. "And you tried to blow me up, you stupid asshole!" The woman yelled back in response. "She has a point," the man butted in. "And tell me, what the hell does Militech want with some random Arasaka agent in the first place?"

"Militech?" Michael asked. "I don't work for fucking Militech!"

The man's calm expression changed into slight irritation. "Don't play dumb with me, asshole!" he retorted. "You're wearing Militech armor. I'm not stupid."

The man reached over to a nearby table and picked up Michael's helmet. Michael sighed in irritation, realizing what was going on. "I'm not with Militech," he said once again, trying to tone his voice down. "I stole that armor. A long, long, time ago."

The man looked at the helmet, and back at Michael. "I told you I recognized that armor from somewhere," another man in the room chimed in. "He's that Archangel guy, he has to be."

"Yeah, that would be me," Michael sighed. Being captured by a random squad of mercs like this would not be a good look, especially after failing the job. "Now tell me," Michael continued. "How did you happen to get the same job as me, when I had already been sent out?"

The man sitting in front of him, seeming to believe what Michael was saying, leaned back on the couch. "We heard rumors that Rogue had put out a hit on this guy," the man explained. "We figured that if we could get the guy ourselves, that would get Rogue's attention. And that would get us a big paycheck."

Michael sighed in frustration. "He was worth more alive, you gonks!" he shouted. "Whatever you're getting from this now, I could've gotten double!"

"And where did you hear that?" the man asked. "Who the hell do you think?" Michael snapped back. The man raised his eyebrow, and looked Michael up and down. "You're telling me that Rogue sent you to kill him?" he asked. "She wanted me to bring him in so she could confront him," Michael answered. "And then I could kill him."

The man and his team exchanged glances at each other, and then looked back at him. "You'd think Rogue would send in a guy who wouldn't get tied up and hung from the ceiling," the woman said in a sarcastic tone. Michael had no response, he simply grunted in frustration. The man stood up from the couch.

"Tell you what," the man said. "I'll cut a deal with you. My crew is a little low on numbers, if you couldn't tell. You agree to start working some jobs with me and my crew, and I'll give you a cut of the pay we'll get from this job."

The woman whipped her head in his direction, "What?" she shouted, clearly not happy with the bargain. "He tried to blow me up!"

"We need more people, 'Becca." The man responded, turning to look at her. "And if the rumors about this guy are true, he'd be a damn competent member of our crew."