Vash: "Me? Jack, you serious? Haven't you always been the one keeping contact on the outside?"
Jackie: "Hell if I know, choom. Called this morning — said they wanna see you."
Vash: "I told you I'm laying low. You didn't run your mouth about me, did you?"
Jackie: "V, I swear on my life — don't I know you're all about stayin' off the radar, keepin' secrets? I didn't let a single word slip."
Vash: "Then why the hell does he want to see me?"
Jackie set his food down, "V, Dex DeShawn? One of Night City's baddest fixers — bigger than Wakako, bigger than Padre." He leaned in a little, "Real big-shot. Got a hundred ways to dig up what he wants." He waved it off like it was nothing, "I already smoothed things over. Just go meet him like normal, have a chat — you'll be preem. No trouble."
Vash rubbed his chin, "Still doesn't add up. Why would he bother with me?"
He'd only been in Night City a little over a month. Aside from the Sandra Dorsett gig, he hadn't exactly been lighting up the Afterlife. And yet Dexter already had his name? Was DeShawn's intel network really that sharp, or was privacy just another thing Night City had killed and buried?
Whatever. Like Jackie said, big-shots had their own channels.
"He's not trying to pull you or Bug into this?" Vash asked.
Jackie shook his head, "Bug's great at cracking encryption, but face-to-face? Too much pressure." He snorted, "And besides, she and Dex already know each other." He jerked a thumb at himself, "Me… I used to have it, but I'm way past my prime now."
Vash's mouth twitched, "Fine. Send me the location. I'll go meet him. Jack, you go see Vik — get that upgrade you've been talking about."
Jackie flashed him an OK, "You got it, V — no sweat."
They left the food stand and climbed into the car together.
"This still my Rattler?" Vash looked the ride over. With all the new parts bolted on, it was almost unrecognizable.
"A car's a person's face." Jackie said, sinking into the seat like he owned it, "Can't afford a new one, we make the old one look good." He grinned, "Put aside some eddies — had the boys at the garage tune her up. All quality."
"As long as you're happy." Vash said with a smile.
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They cruised around Watson for a while before Vash got out to meet Dexter near the Grancy Burgers.
Jackie, meanwhile, headed to Viktor for some new chrome.
After getting out, Vash continued on foot. He didn't walk these streets much — inside a car, Night City was just a blur of neon and concrete. On foot, the towers loomed higher, the skyline pressing down like a weight.
The city's cold rules hit him full in the face.
Bang Bang Bang!
Under a bridge, gunfire echoed — someone was bleeding out on the streetball court below.
Vash had a rule: not his business, not his problem. He kept walking.
Before long, a luxury stretch limo came into view. A burly man waited beside it, equal parts driver and bodyguard.
Oleg Darkevich, the burly man, spotted Vash and silently opened the door. Inside sat a huge black man — built like a pro baller from Vash's old life.
"Hello, Mr. V." Dexter greeted him.
"Dexter DeShawn. Better to meet you than just hear the stories." Vash said, then added, "Mind cracking the windows before we talk biz?"
Dexter studied him with interest. He'd dealt with plenty of mercs — people who'd paint the street red without blinking — yet most of them still shrank a little once they were in his orbit.
Vash didn't.
"Let's roll." Dexter said, "Open the windows — give Mr. V some air."
Up front, the driver started the engine and lowered the windows.
The wind swept the heavy scent of expensive cigars out of the cabin.
Dexter didn't seem to mind. He took a slow pull on his cigar and said, "Before we talk business, I've got a question for you, Mr. V."
"Shoot." Vash said.
"Would you rather be a nobody — live quiet, die old with a catheter — or burn out before thirty and go down in history?"
The question didn't even slow Vash down, "Neither."
"Oh?" Dexter lifted his brow — figuratively, anyway, "Mind telling me what you do choose?"
Vash shifted in his seat and met his gaze, "I choose to rule while I'm alive — and become legend when I'm dead. And my kidneys are doing just fine, so I doubt I'll need a catheter."
"Ha." Dexter laughed despite himself, "I've asked that question a lot, but nobody's answer has been as entertaining as yours, Mr. V."
Vash shrugged, "A chat's only a chat if it's interesting. Otherwise you might as well talk to a brick wall. Speaking of — Mr. DeShawn, mind if I ask you something in return?"
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T/N: Comment, give me Power Stones, like and favorite, it all supports me and makes me go foward with this. Appreciate my other stories as well, I guarantee the good work!
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