"Something's happened—something huge! Padre's been gravely injured! He's in the hospital right now!"
Leo felt like his chest had taken a direct punch.
He was completely stunned.
Padre had been attacked?! And now he was lying in a hospital bed?!
How could this be...
Fixers in Night City sometimes got assassinated, usually targeted by rival fixers, corporate interests, or hostile gangs. But successful hits were rare—fixers typically operated from secure bases that were more like fortified bunkers than storefronts. Unless someone declared full-on gang war, breaking into such a place wasn't easy.
Even when a fixer needed to step outside, the city's tangled roads and alleyways made it nearly impossible for would-be assassins to predict which route the target would take—unless...
Unless someone in Padre's crew had betrayed him.
"What exactly happened? Why's Padre in critical condition? What was he doing?"
Marcus's expression was grim. "Padre was headed to El Coyote Cojo today. Carlo, his usual driver, took the day off, so I drove him. When we reached an intersection, those Sixth Street mutts had an ambush waiting. They used a truck to force us into a flower shop, and a disguised assassin posing as an employee put a round straight through Padre's heart."
Leo immediately suspected the man who took the day off.
"This driver, Carlo—he's shady. Did you find him?"
"Padre said the same thing right before he blacked out. We sent a few guys over to Carlo's apartment, but when we got there, the bastard was already dead in his bathtub. Blood practically drained dry."
Leo's face darkened in an instant.
There were three possibilities:
One—Carlo betrayed them, then offed himself out of guilt or fear.
Two—Carlo didn't betray anyone, but Sixth Street got to him, tortured the itinerary out of him, and killed him afterward.
Three—Carlo didn't matter. The real traitor was someone higher up, someone who passed the intel to Sixth Street and then staged Carlo's death to make it look like he was the leak.
"What's the situation on your end now?"
"Not good. We clashed with the Clemente crew—lost several guys."
The Clementes were one of the three branches of the Sixth Street Gang, alongside the Falcones and the Frenchies. Incidentally, the guy who tried to force Leo into joining Sixth Street half a year ago—Malmeler—was a Clemente officer.
"What the hell are you doing?" Leo's voice held both anger and frustration. "Right now, your top priority should be protecting Padre and rooting out the mole, not starting a war with Clemente!"
"It was Nikola who led us to attack them."
Nikola—Padre's second-in-command. He usually handled affairs when Padre was unavailable. The smart weapons Padre got from Leo had been negotiated through Nikola.
This Nikola... if he wasn't the mole, then he was a complete idiot. But considering Padre trusted him enough to let him handle major business, the odds of him being an idiot were slim. Which left only one explanation: Nikola was the traitor. At least for now, he was the top suspect.
"Marcus, listen closely. Gather a small group of Padre's most loyal people—don't let the others find out. Quietly restrain Nikola. Don't give him a chance to explain himself."
"If I'm right, he leaked Padre's schedule. If I'm wrong... we'll deal with that later. Just secure him for now."
Leo was ninety percent certain he wasn't wrong. And if it turned out Nikola wasn't the traitor, but just some moron who crumbled under pressure—well, the deaths of Padre's men were still on him. Locking him up wouldn't be wrong, either.
"Nikola's not at the hideout. He's missing."
Leo's blood pressure spiked.
"WTF?! What did you just say?!"
"Nikola took us to hit Clemente's crew. We lost the fight. He wanted to launch a second attack, but when no one agreed, he locked himself in a room. When we went to get him... he was gone."
Great. That pretty much confirmed it. Nikola was one hundred percent the mole.
"He probably ran off to Sixth Street—or cashed out and skipped town. Either way, forget about him. Focus on getting to the hospital and protecting Padre. We can't get out—we're pinned in by the NCPD."
"Wait, why's NCPD involved? What are they doing there?"
"They said they got an anonymous tip and want to search the place. Said they're looking for 'glitter.'"
Leo's eyes narrowed.
What a ruthless move.
Whether it was Clemente's doing or Nikola's plan, the combo was lethal.
First, leak Padre's travel plans to Clemente. They set the trap. Padre survives, but barely.
Next, stir up his men, bait them into retaliating on Clemente turf—where a counter-ambush was no doubt already in place. If Padre hadn't outfitted his crew with smart weapons, there'd be way more than just a few casualties.
Then, when things began to smell wrong and people started piecing it together, have the NCPD show up, bought off, and was ready to stir chaos.
The NCPD might be inept and corrupt, sure—but fighting them head-on would be suicide.
Leo knew Padre forbade his people from touching glitter, but right now, with everyone emotional and on edge, all it would take was one hothead to snap.
And without Padre to calm the waters, no one could maintain order. If a firefight with the NCPD broke out, everything Padre had built over the years could come crashing down in a single night.
"Who's in charge over there now?"
"It was Nikola. But now that he's gone, no one's stepping up."
"Fine. Get everyone to shut up and patch them into my comms channel—right now."
Soon, comm requests began flooding in.
Leo accepted them all, one after another, a waterfall of popups cascading across his interface.
Once everyone was in—
"You all know who I am, so I'll skip the introductions. Time's tight, so I'll keep it short. You're standing on a cliff edge, and one wrong move could doom you all."
"That's why right now, you need to stay calm."
"If you keep arguing—or worse, start a shootout with NCPD—you're playing right into Clemente's hands. If you want to do them a favor, go ahead and disconnect now."
No one disconnected.
Everyone kept watching Leo, waiting for what he'd say next.
Leo wasn't officially part of Padre's operation, but everyone knew it was because of his work that Padre scored major profits—profits that trickled down to the entire crew.
They all got their cut.
They all knew who made it possible. Plus, they knew he also led a successful mercenary team, so he must have had experience dealing with...uncivil things.
So Leo's words carried weight.
He paused a few seconds, saw no one left the call, then nodded slightly and continued.
"Alright. No one left. That means you're all willing to listen. Good. From this point on, stop the shouting, stop the infighting."
Marcus spoke up, asking the question on everyone's mind.
"Then what do we do? The NCPD's still out there, and they want in."
"Keep them outside. Don't talk to them. Don't provoke them. Lock every door and window. Seal every exit."
That's it?
Everyone was stunned.
They'd expected someone like Leo to come up with some master plan—
But this? That was it?
"If the NCPD insists on coming in, stall them. Delay as long as you can. But under no circumstances are you to fire on them."
Even if the NCPD were corrupt and incompetent. They were still the law.