A week of tense quiet was broken when Scarlet's alarms blared through the safehold. She'd been running silent, passive scans on all channels, and she'd hit paydirt.
"Convoy," she announced, her fingers flying across her slate. "Syndicate logistics. Low-level, but carrying a precious cargo." She projected the specs. "A full crate of Mark VII ORM components. The good stuff. The kind that can make my firewalls sing and keep the Ghost-Jacks out of our business."
The crew gathered around. This was a necessary risk. They needed that tech.
"Route?" Morgan asked.
Scarlet brought up a map of the Rust Belt's underbelly. "Here. Old maintenance tunnel Gamma-Seven. Narrow, confined. They're using it to avoid the main patrols. It's a perfect ambush point."
"It's also a perfect trap," Rin remarked quietly. "No exits. Nowhere to run."
"It's our best shot," Morgan decided. "We hit fast, we hit hard, we disappear. Rielle, you're on point breach. Rin, find a perch in the tunnel crossbeams. Kara, medical and tech support on the skiff. Scarlet, you're on comms and convoy disruption. Nezra," she turned to him. "You're with me and Rielle. Your job is to get the crate once we stop the transport. Nothing else. Understood?"
Nezra nodded, his mouth dry. This was it. A real mission where he wasn't just a key. He was part of the muscle, however insignificant.
The tunnel was a claustrophobic nightmare of dripping water, rust, and shadows. Their skiff was hidden at a pre-war access shaft a kilometer away. They'd come the rest on foot. Rin had melted into the darkness above them. Rielle hefted a massive magnetic pulse charge designed to disable the convoy's lead vehicle.
They didn't have to wait long. The low hum of an anti-grav transport echoed down the tunnel. A single light pierced the gloom.
"Now," Morgan whispered.
Rielle activated the charge and rolled it into the tunnel's center. The convoy's lead vehicle hit it and died instantly, its systems fried, its light extinguished. The following transport screeched to a halt.