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the-archangel · 6 months

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V for Vengeance

This took ages and is very long I'm sorry! Might be better reading it on AO3 :)

“You don’t know what I’m thinking any more Johnny, leave me alone,” spits V as he stalks down the grimy, neon-flooded street with his collar up against the rain.

“Yeah, I kinda do,” the most recently appointed Afterlife merc explains as he rushes after him, “and this is a fucking gonk idea.”

V had been brewing for days, ever since Kerry told him about the time he’d been kidnapped and held to ransom by scavs. Kerry had intended it as an amusing drunken tale, it’d been all over in less than 24 hours and he’d been that high at the time he hadn’t really noticed it happening, but V was not so green when it came to dealing with scavs, he knew what would’ve happened if the record company hadn’t coughed up the eddies and was determined to fill in the details of the hours that they held the Rockerboy, no matter how unsavoury.

“Seriously V, it was twelve years ago, they’re all either dead or they’ve moved on by now.”

Stopping in his tracks, V looks intently at the dark-haired man, “You don’t have to come with me Johnny, I never asked you to.”

“I know,” answers Johnny darkly, “maybe you should’ve. You’ve got no idea what you’re looking for.”

“Neither have you! You were a data stream living in a freezer at the time, how exactly does that make you any more qualified than me to find them?” It’s a fair point, and one that V knows Johnny is not pleased to be reminded of. “Look, if you wanna help fine, just try not to be a pain in the ass.”

“Can’t promise anything,” Johnny mutters turning to follow his friend down the street.

Kerry had just done one of the best shows of his life – or so the bassist of his backing band tells him as he gives the Rockerboy a sloppy post-gig blow job, despite the best efforts of the younger musician it’s not a relationship, just a habit that they’ve fallen into.

Later, alone again, Kerry messages his kids telling them about the show and asking about their day. He never gets a reply, but he does it every damn day anyway. Then he calls his new manager to see how the attempt to copyright his image is going, but the fucker doesn’t answer, he never fucking answers, Kerry’s beginning to think he made a mistake hiring him. There’s one more call he thinks about making, but he’s had enough rejection this evening and so puts on a jacket and heads out to the waiting car. He doesn’t make it.

“Where’re we going?” Johnny shouts after V’s retreating back.

“Pacifica.” answers the other man.

“Woah, we’re not walking to fucking Pacifica.” states Johnny breathlessly as he catches up.

“Course not, there’s someone I need to speak to first.”

Afterlife is buzzing even at this time of the early afternoon, despite it now being V’s kingdom Johnny’s heart lifts a little at the thought of Rogue maybe being there, her visits are increasingly rare, but it is possible. They make their way over to the bar where V has a quick word with Clair before heading to his usual booth at the back, Johnny makes to follow until he sees who V is meeting, he sits at the bar instead nursing a tequila and glaring over petulantly.

“You’re lucky I was in town,” Panam tells V as he takes a seat opposite her and puts beers on the table between them, “another few hours and I’d have been showing this shithole my dust.”

“I know, thanks for meeting me, and…I’m sorry.”

The woman looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, “Luckily for you I’m a big girl capable of making my own decisions. Something more than we had might’ve been nice, but as far as flings go, it was one of my favourites.” she says taking a swig of beer and sitting back in her seat, one leg resting on the other and arms spread along the back, “But you’re still part of the clan whatever other shit you’ve pulled, what do you need?”

“Info,” says V leaning forward and looking at her seriously, “about twelve years ago Kerry was taken by some scavs, prolly took him somewhere into the Badlands, wondered if there had been any rumours, if anyone knew anything about what happened?”

“Can’t Kerry tell you anything? Surely he’s not gone senile just yet?” she asks with narrowed eyes and a half-smile.

“Heh, you’re a funny girl, but no. He was pretty out of it and he’s kinda blocked it out.” V winces internally at the lie. “So do you know anything?”

Panam takes another swig from her bottle and ponders the question, “Maybe. I was a teenager at the time, a feisty one too if you can believe it, Saul would sit me down and tell me all the reasons why my behaviour was dangerous, or bad for the clan.” V nods, he’s been at the receiving end of Saul’s lectures and knows what they can be like. “Anyway, this one time he was explaining why taking a bike and riding into the town was a dumb idea, he was even more riled than usual, said if the Raffen could swipe a rock star right from outside a stadium, one little girl on a bike would not be able to stop them taking her. Never connected the dots at the time, but I guess he was talking about Kerry.”

“The Raffen huh? I guessed as much, any idea where they took him?”

“No, they had a few bases at the time, I’ll mark them on a map for you.” she says producing a map and pen from her bag, “Saul was a big fan of Kerry’s, shame they never met.”

V hums in agreement, Saul always turned the radio up when one of Kerry’s songs came on and he’d told Kerry stories about the brusque clan leader many times, they could definitely have been chooms. “Thanks Panam, you’ve been a lot of help.”

Panam looks over his shoulder, “Who’s that guy you came in with? He’s been glaring at me for the whole conversation like I should know who he is.”

V chuckles, he often forgets that even people who met Johnny never actually saw Johnny. Before he can explain, the woman interjects,

“Fuck, that’s Johnny Silverhand. I recognise him from Saul’s album covers. That’s Johnny fucking Silverhand!”

Hearing his name, Johnny smiles warily and raises his glass in Panam’s direction.

“Why didn’t he come over with you?” she asks.

Still smiling, V looks over at the dark-haired merc at the bar and lowers his voice, “He’s kinda scared of you, you were pretty angry about him trying to kill me if you remember, he thinks you might try and break his balls over it or some shit.”

“That’s fair, but if the fucker is going with you, watch your back, he’d choose his ego over his chooms any day I’m guessing.”

Once maybe, but not anymore V thinks, but he just nods and finishes up his beer, “Look after yourself Panam, I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Mhm, don’t be a stranger.” the nomad replies giving him a curt nod and walking out of the booth.

Johnny watches as she leaves the bar, “Don’t say it Johnny.” V warns.

“Say what? That she has a nice ass? I’m only human.”

V groans and grabs his jacket from the bar stool, after a last catch-up with Clair they’re ready to leave.

“Need to get the truck from the garage,” V tells Johnny, “it’s gonna get pretty bumpy out there.”

Jogging to keep up with V’s accelerating strides, Johnny is struggling to understand the urgency, unsure as to why they need to head to Pacifica now rather than the morning, it is, after all, 12 years since the attack took place so one more day is unlikely to make much difference. V, on the other hand, can’t get there fast enough, the thoughts of what they might have done to Kerry in that time have been festering in his mind and he couldn’t look the man in the face again if he didn’t do something.

As if he’s read the ex-merc’s mind, the holo rings and Kerry’s tired face fills V’s vision. “Heeey V, missed ya today, what ya been doin’?”

“Just dealing with some business Ker, like I said this morning it might take a couple of days. How’s the song coming along?”

The Rockerboy’s lip curls into a grimace, “Meh, can’t seem to get into the groove, y’know I worry about you when you go out on jobs. Throws me off.”

“I promise I’ll be careful and I’ll call you in the morning, get some sleep babe, be back before you know it.”

“Kay V, love ya.”

“You too ya gonk.” V says softy as the call disconnects and he rubs his temple with his fingertips, it’s been a long day and it’s not over yet, “Johnny, you OK to drive? If I don’t lie down, I’ll fall down.”

“Sure, where we going?”

“The stadium.”

Johnny had only been up a few hours having not got home until the early hours. He’d thrown himself into the merc work and mostly enjoyed it, but music was still his passion, so he’d been doing the rounds of the open mike nights – heavily disguised of course – just to keep his hand in. Problem was, compared to his old stuff, what he’s writing now is shit. The tunes are fine but he’s struggling to find the lyrics; before, he channelled his lust, anger and vitriol into the words, now all he feels is apathy most of the time. He hates to admit it but, he needs help, he needs Kerry, and if helping V with his gonk plan gets him back in Kerry’s good books then it’s all going to be worth it.

Pulling in at the stadium parking lot, Johnny spends a moment taking in how shitty Pacifica had become over the years. He can still remember when it was the promised land, corpos filling the hotels and beaches, not this gang run nightmare before him. It vaguely occurs to him that it’s at least partly his fault, but such thinking could lead to madness so he tucks the thought away to be chewed over another time.

“V, wake up sleeping beauty, we’re here.”

Groggily, the younger man groans and sits up in his seat, “What time is it?” he asks yawning.

“Just after midnight, not much point looking around in the dark, may as well hang here until the sun comes up in a few hours.”

“No way,” stresses V, already getting out of the truck, “this is the perfect time.”

A perplexed Johnny once more finds himself jogging to catch up to his friend, what is he possibly hoping to find after twelve years in the middle of the night?

The stadium is in darkness, the sputtering street lights only adding to the gloom. V stands, hands on hips surveying the side of the building, scanning the area and sighing. The building hadn’t changed much since it was built sixty years ago, flimsy doors, non-existent security, pretty much what he expected, but what had changed was the area. A stadium built so that high-rolling customers could watch a show or game whilst staying in one of the nearby five-star hotels was now next to a derelict shopping mall in what looked like a war zone. Sure, it could still get the big-name acts, but they would travel in from somewhere more salubrious, maybe a place in the City Centre, whilst the audience would make their weary way back to their homes, never once thinking of staying in Pacifica for the evening, no matter how convenient.

Although terrible for Pacifica, this is in fact great for V’s purposes, the same bums and low-lives have been hanging around the stadium for years and their information is cheaply bought. The nearest liquor store is not far away, Johnny follows his friend hopefully inside grimacing as he chooses two of the cheapest 6-packs available and then helps him carry the bags back to a wall near the stadium. “Now what?” he asks.

“Now, we wait,” the other man replies, popping the cap off a beer and wrinkling his nose at the first sip. They don’t need to wait long, a dishevelled, grey-haired man comes shambling towards them with a younger, twitchy-faced man at his side.

“Care for some company chooms?” he asks in a surprisingly refined voice.

“Sure thing, wanna drink?” The older man nods emphatically, while the younger sits silently crossed-legged, glaring at Johnny and V between violent tics.

The conversation is moved along from government conspiracies (probable) and the latest sightings of a mothman (unlikely but possible) to the things celebrities will do for attention, V’s attention has been wavering for a while, tiredness having caught up with him, but the mention of his mainline’s name, as well as a sharp dig in the ribs from Johnny, perks him up.

“That there Eurodyne fella, they reckon it was all for publicity, saw it with my own eyes…”

“Wait, what?” asks V suddenly wide awake, “You saw Kerry Eurodyne being kidnapped?”

“If that’s what it was, he walked out with them friendly as anything, got in the car no problem, chatting like they were best chooms.”

V is momentarily stunned into silence, processing what he’s being told, “What…what kinda car was it?”

“Nothin fancy, some sort of Thorton. Remember thinking what an odd shade of blue it was, like the sky at dusk.”

Johnny interjects, “Yeah, poetic as all shit choom, tell us everything.”

The concert goers had generally been a happy and generous bunch, the bum and his chooms had made a good few euros and scored a few beers and were sat, nicely mellow, waiting for their second chance as the crowds emerged from the stadium. Before that could happen, a side door swings open and a smiling Kerry strides out to the waiting car flanked by what looks like a couple of suited bodyguards and followed by a red-haired woman with a Valentino’s jacket and a distinctive silver leg. In his youth, the man had been a huge fan of Eurodyne’s, posters all over the walls, shelf full of his records, but he hadn’t been so keen on some of his poppy later stuff, so it’s with detached interest that he watches the Rockerboy be led out to the car and directed into the back seat. He seemed in good spirits, clearly high as a kite and slightly unsteady, but not seeming to be in any discomfort, for which V was grateful.

V and Johnny leave the men with what’s left of the beers and make their way back to their car, V is quiet and pensive which is making Johnny nervous.

“They tricked him,” V concludes, “they knew how confused he got when he’d been partying and they tricked him.”

Johnny tries to hide a smirk, the thought of Kerry being so out of it that he didn’t even know he was being kidnapped not only seemed likely, it was not even the first time it had happened. There was that time out in Miami in the 20’s when a deranged fan took him home and fed him pizza and copious amounts of wine before the rocker was found wandering the streets the next morning in a borrowed tuxedo, but V doesn’t need to hear about that just now.

The description of the red-haired woman is making V’s brain itch, there’s something familiar that he can’t quite put his finger on. Johnny drives them into the Badlands whilst V leaves a message for the Padre and falls into a disturbed slumber.

In his dreams, V’s leaning on a bar listening as Kerry tells him about his day at the studio. The Rockerboy is hyped and animated, pacing the room and drinking from a tequila bottle. He comes over placing his hand on the ex-merc’s chest and leaning into a sloppy kiss that ends with a bite on the bottom lip hard enough to raise a gasp.

“Something to remember me by.” Kerry smirks as he pulls away.

“Why, you going somewhere?”

Kerry puts his hand on the door to the exit and turns, smiling sadly. Then he’s just gone, disappeared. V searches the room frantically, calling Kerry’s name and pushing on the door, but no one answers and the door won’t budge, then Johnny’s voice is calling him,

“V, shut your whining. You woke me up from a real nice dream you fucker.”

The truck is where Johnny parked it in the early hours, shaded from the mid-morning sun by a boulder which also serves to shield them from the road. V groans and stretches, he’s had the full eight hours for the first time in weeks, but still feels like he’s been kicked in the head, and back, and kidneys. “Where are we?” he asks the grumpy ex-rocker groggily.

“’Bout five miles west of Panam’s first marker on the map.”

Nodding, V gingerly leaves the truck, rubbing life back into his legs he leans against the rock to take a much-needed piss, cursing softly as a call comes midway through. Thinking it best to leave the call on audio only for now he greets the caller as cheerily as he can manage, “Morning Padre, thanks for getting back to me.”

“Always a pleasure to be able to help out a brother in need. What can I do for you?”

“The woman I described; do you have any info on her? She rings a bell with me but I just can’t place why.”

“She is called Selene, she was a friend of your mother’s when you were very small, but she left the fold twenty years or so back, went to live with the Nomads so I heard. If you find her, tell her she is forgiven and will be welcomed back.”

“Selene, of course! Any idea which clan she went with?”

“Nothing for sure, though I think the Raffen would be her style.”

V sighs, it’s what he expected if he’s honest, but he hoped otherwise. “Any ideas where she is now?”

“None. I am expecting another call, but wish you luck in your endeavour.”

Thanking the Padre, V wanders back to the truck checking the map and planning a route for the day, he flops down next to Johnny with his back leaning on the tyre of the truck and takes the cig from the other man’s fingers. “I’m thinking if we work smart, we can cover all three camps before dark, then this time tomorrow we can be heading back.”

Johnny nods, working smart is not something he’s often accused of but he can give it a try.

V drives the truck to within a couple of miles of the first possible camp, concealing it as best he can between two ridges and makes his way to higher ground with Johnny following grumbling behind.

“Don’t know why we had to set off so fucking early, it’s not like they’re going anywhere. And what’s with all this fucking gear we’re carrying? There’s, like, an arsenal and enough water for a week, I thought we were here for the day not setting up camp.”

V gives a half-smile as he squints at the horizon, Johnny’s whining is actually quite a comfort to him, it means the world is working as it should, “You’d be surprised how much water you get through in the desert Johnny, and we don’t know what we’re up against, better to be over-prepared than under don’t’cha think?”

Johnny grunts non-committally and returns to his binoculars, “What exactly are we looking for?”

“Any sign of movement, the camp should be over to the East by those rocks, looks abandoned but we don’t want to go storming in and find a cave full of scavs coming out to meet us.”

Having established that the camp at least appears to be all quiet, the boys stay low as far as possible and cover the last two miles without incident. The camp has clearly been abandoned for some time; empty crates litter the ground inside the mouth of the cave which was the main living quarters of the camp. Mildewed bunk-beds line the walls, nothing of value has been left behind, no handy clues. Sitting in the mouth of the cave sharing a bottle of water and a cig, V optimizes the route to the next camp whilst Johnny squints critically at a shard he’d found on one of the bunks,

“The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large, huh.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothin, just some chip I found.” explains Johnny tossing it in his backpack to maybe read on the boring ride back later.

Their next destination is almost thirty miles to the north mostly over flat ground but the last few miles are a challenge even for the Mackinaw that bounces from dune to dune and jostles its passengers unrelentingly. Johnny clings onto the grab handle biting back his criticisms of V’s driving for fear of being left in the middle of nowhere to find his own way back. It’s a good choice. V had also had enough of the challenging terrain and was in no mood to deal with Johnny’s shit.

“Gonna have to park up for a while, this shitty truck is gonna work my optics loose if we carry on much longer.”

“I think there’s a gas station just up there,” Johnny points hopefully towards a fuzzy, gas-station shaped building on the horizon, “we could aim for that, regroup, grab some food.”

Food sounded good, they hadn’t eaten since the previous evening and the sun is now right overhead, there’s some jerky and trail mix in the truck, but they hadn’t got quite that desperate yet. The building is indeed a gas station, not only that but there is an outdoor seating area where they now are eating reheated burritos and sipping on mercifully chilled water. Johnny squirms uncomfortably in his seat, there are many benefits to having a flat ass, leather trousers hang well, chicks dig it, but long road journeys are just a pain in it.

“So, what’s the next plan of action?” he asks V in between bites of his disappointingly bland lunch.

“The guy in the store said there’s still some Scav action out here from time to time, so we don’t wanna go storming in, just in case. We’re still about four miles out, just over that ridge should be an old farm that they were using as a base.” V tells Johnny indicating a distant sand dune. “We get the truck to this side of the ridge, sneak around and see what we can see.”

Johnny nods, aiming his screwed up empty foil into the trash and smirking as he hears it rattle around the can and hit the bottom.

“Shit.” hisses V as he scans the farm buildings from the top of the ridge. There is clearly movement, things being loaded onto trucks. It looks like they might have caught the goons just as they’re moving on, which does not suit their purposes at all.

“Think fast Johnny, what do we do?”

Johnny looks up briefly whilst lighting his cig, the light of the match illuminating the surprised look on his face, since when does V ask his advice about merc work? “We could wait til one of them is separate from the group and bring them over for a little chat?”

“Mhm, there’s a guy over there keeps disappearing off for a smoke, we could follow the ridge around and see where he goes.”

Just as V had said, around five minutes later the man dumps a crate in the van and makes to the back of the substantial barn where the van is parked, the mercs (V is allowing himself the title back, just for a couple of days) follow along and down the ridge until the sharp smell of the man’s sweat and cheap cologne assaults their noses. Luckily for them, he is concerned only with checking his messages and not expecting to be forcibly dragged over the rocky ground with a gun to his head and a hand over his mouth.

They really should have decided what to ask him before dragging him behind the ridge, after all, he was clearly too young to have any knowledge of the kidnapping, fortunately he helps them out,

“Aw I knew you’d catch up to me sooner or later, I’ll tell you anything and I’ll run to the hills if you let me go, you’ll never hear from me again.”

Johnny and V have no idea who the guy thinks they are, but can’t pass up such an opportunity,

“We’ll think on that,” Johnny tells him, “all depends on how good the info you give us is.”

“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy,” V chips in, “what have you been doing out here these past few, er, weeks?”

As promised, the man spills everything, the camp has been here for several months though he’s only been with them for three weeks, other than a few local raids nothing of any note has happened. They are moving East to an old warehouse that was used in the 60’s as a base, to join with another faction in order to pull off some heist. The whole shebang is being run by a woman with faded red hair who’s name he didn’t catch who was here a couple of days ago but has since returned to the warehouse.

With a pistol-backed warning not to look back, they watch the man sprint into the distance and think about their next move. The warehouse seems to be the last place Panam marked on their map so they don’t need to follow the goons in order to find it, in fact it would be better to get there before them so that there’s less to deal with, but not searching the farmhouse might lead to them missing a vital clue.

“How sneaky are you feeling?” V asks Johnny.

“I can do it if I have to, but I’d rather just shoot them in the head.”

“Maybe when your aim improves, we’ll go with your plan, until then, follow me up to the back window.”

Johnny opens his mouth to say something, but for once thinks better of it and follows V up onto a dumpster, across an awning and in through a handily open window, dropping silently on the other side into what appears to be a command centre of sorts. There are tables and chairs scattered around, empty wrappers and cups, but nothing that presents as a clue.

The next room has been used as sleeping quarters, sheets are strewn around, pillows scattered, and the smell from the unwashed linen and half-eaten food left on all the available surfaces is almost unbearable, Johnny finds it almost overwhelming, he’s still getting used to having his senses back and is having to fight against the urge to pass out from the stench.

The last room on this floor is smaller but had been kept neat. There’s a cot in the corner with the sheets removed and a few bits of sparse, but clean furniture.

“Nothing in here to see,” says V rattling a drawer back into place just as a goon, who’d been hiding behind the door waiting to make his move, hits him clumsily but solidly on the shoulders and flies towards the stairs to make his escape. Johnny takes chase narrowly avoiding a door to the face as the man flees the building, he needs to bring him down before he can alert his chooms and so dives for his legs sending him heavily onto the gravel and drags him, thankfully dazed and quiet, back into the house. Meanwhile, V gingerly opens one eye staring into the painful void before him, his optics soon adjust and the bedroom floor slowly slides into focus.

A dull thud and a muffled groan later, Johnny reappears and offers his hand to help the fixer up, he grudgingly accepts and leans his weight onto the Rockerboy as they make their way gingerly down the stairs and over the battered body of the fallen goon to watch the outside activities through a grimy, cracked window.

“The way I see it,” offers V massaging life back into his left shoulder, “we can either wait here until they leave and check the place out properly, or forget about here and make our way to the warehouse while it’s still light and before it’s full of murderous Scavs.”

It’s a no-brainer, a couple of minutes later they are back in the truck putting together a route away from the roads leading from the farm and sharing a cigarette. The devil in Johnny has a question to ask, “How d’you think Kerry’s gonna feel when he finds out you’ve done all of this without asking him?”

“Well he’ll…” V realises that, in a certain light, his actions could be construed as selfish, controlling even. Although he meant well, he hadn’t really considered Kerry’s feelings in all of this, there might even be a reason he never told the whole story. “I just need to call someone…” he murmurs, leaving the truck and disappearing around the corner.

Some minutes later a red-cheeked ex-merc hops back into the truck and silently starts it up, knuckles white on the steering wheel, Johnny gives it a few minutes but has to ask,

“Kerry is pretty mad OK?”

Johnny nods, he knows how Kerry gets when he feels betrayed, he realises that, to his surprise, he feels bad for his friend.

“He said that I shouldn’t’ve gone without telling him where I was going and that I shouldn’t’ve put myself in danger for him and that we were gonna have to have a talk when I get back.”

“Aw V I’m sorry…”

“Nah, it’s fine. Think he just wants to vent at me. Had to promise to call him every couple of hours and to tell him everything we find out, he really can’t remember what happened and wants to know, even if it’s real bad.”

It’s a long and boring journey to their final destination, Johnny has been on a self-improvement kick lately and decides to look at the shard he found earlier. He was expecting a book, but opening the case he realises that The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large is in fact a BD, possibly the dullest one ever but a BD just the same. Rummaging around in the glove compartment he finds a wreath and settles back in his seat ready to expand his mind. Twenty minutes later his mind is definitely blown, though not necessarily improved in any way.

“V, choom, you gotta see this,” he says groggily, clumsily pulling the BD wreath through his tangled hair.

“No thanks, m’driving. Not a good mix dipshit. Besides, sounds super-dull.”

“So pull over, I promise you, you REALLY need to see this.”

The scene opens with a stuffy lecturer in an office outlining how far cybernetics have come in the last hundred years, never one for schooling V can feel himself drifting off, but less than three minutes in the scene abruptly switches to a smoke-filled room, possibly a bar, with a dozen or more people sat at makeshift seats and tables. V recognises one, “That’s Selene!” he says out loud to Johnny. A commotion indicates another person entering the room, a slightly dishevelled Kerry comes stumbling in with hair flopping rakishly over one eye and his denim shirt open to expose his recently installed chrome. V adjusts himself in his seat, damn that man is hot.

“…and then later that night, “Kerry was clearly part way through a story when he had left the room, “he came over again. Can you believe it? But this time with a gun and a bag full of drugs. Security fucked him up and threw him out and the drugs made for a preem after-show party!”

The assembled ‘audience’ laugh and clap, an inhaler makes its way around the room as do various bottles, all of which Kerry happily partakes in. The next few minutes are mostly this, blurry partying and a babble of chatter, the room seems to be hanging on every word the Rockerboy says and Kerry is lapping it up. Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. The recording whips around to focus on the red-haired woman who seems to be receiving a call, biting her bottom lip and nodding slightly as her eyes glow green. The room quietens, even Kerry, though he seems to be in some kind of drug and alcohol induced stupor anyway. The camera follows Selene out of the room into a gravel patch covered with parked cars and overlooked by an old wind turbine,

“Jeez, are you sure?” she asks, “I mean, of course I believe you but he’s a rock star for fucks sake, there must be somebody who’ll pay. What about the ex-wife?” Selene nods again, “What a bitch, I thought they had kids? And they say we’re the bad guys. OK, fine, it’s a shame though, he seems like a nice guy.” Her eyes dull as the call ends, she checks her revolver and strides back into the bar.

A whispered conversation later the filming cuts off as Kerry is being man-handled off the tatty sofa.

V removes the wreath and sits stunned in the driver’s seat of his truck not quite sure what to do next, Johnny gently takes it from his hands throwing it onto the rear seats and looks at his friend with concern. “You good?”

“I guess.” V replies thoughtfully, “He can’t know.”

Johnny nods in agreement, “So where next?”

“We carry on,” decides V, “still don’t know what happened next. I mean, they didn’t flatline him, why not? Gonna talk to Selene.”

Dusk is approaching when they reach their final destination, as it draws near the familiar outline of the now even more dilapidated wind turbine hovers into view. “This is the place,” Johnny erroneously announces. “We just gonna walk in and start shooting?”

“Jeez Johnny of course not, we want information don’t we, not total carnage?”

Johnny shrugs in a non-committal way.

V had just come off a holo-call with Kerry, he had told him about the bar, about the scavs hanging on his every word and about how hot he looked. He felt bad not telling him the whole truth, but just couldn’t see what good it would do. “You can stay in the truck; I’m going in to talk to them.”

The old Rockerboy was about to argue, the look on V’s face was more than enough to stop him. “Just be careful, I don’t wanna have to explain to Kerry why you’re coming home in the trunk and not the passenger seat.”

Leaving the truck and passing his half-done smoke over to Johnny, V puts his hands deep into his pockets and begins to walk towards the warehouse building, well-aware that there would have been eyes on him from the get go. Johnny has his eyes on a sniper behind an upstairs window, but for now V appears safe from their target practice.

As he nears, V puts his hands in the air and turns around then, a couple of meters from the door he stands and waits.

Up until now, the goons have not shown themselves though it’s obvious they’re around, dozens of vehicles are strewn around the gravel and a deep-thumping beat can be heard coming from inside. A hum indicates the rising of the shutters, rust rains down as they rattle open and a man of indeterminate middle-age dressed in makeshift armour appears.

“Don’t move. Who are you and whaddya want?”

“Name’s V,“ he yells across the distance cocking his head to one side, “your goons can stand down. Just want to talk to Selene.”

The name obviously means something to the other man, he raises an eyebrow and comes a little closer to the ex-merc. “And what’s your biz with Selene?” he hisses.

“No biz, she was a friend of my mom, just wanna talk to her.”

“Vincent?”

The deep, southern tones of the woman he knew in his youth are unmistakable,

“Selene, yeah, erm, hi.”

The chrome is covered in a dark blue boiler-suit and her always striking green eyes are hidden behind shades, but the red hair, less vibrant but still luxurious would have given her away anyway.

“Vincent honey, it’s been twenty years. Why you out here looking for me in the ass-end of nowhere?”

“Twenty-two, just wanted your help with something.” V says cautiously lowering his arms.

“Course sugar, come inside. How’s Martha?” The woman asks, wrapping her arm around V’s waist in a way that seems oddly familiar and leads him inside.

Small-talk exhausted, V is led down a narrow, graffitied corridor and into what seems to be a common-room of sorts. Selene clearly has some power, the assembled goons are variously reverential, sycophantic or dangerously protective, V has rarely missed the comfort of a revolver in his pocket as much as he does right now.

Back at the truck, Johnny is making bad decisions, having thankfully dismissed the idea of going in after V with all guns blazing regardless, he has now decided that since he is out of the way for a little while it’s a good time to call Kerry.

No one answers the first time, it’s early evening so Kerry could be getting ready to go out, or maybe napping, there’s even a possibility he’s just ignoring the call. Johnny tries again, this time an annoyed face fills his optics almost straight away,

“What?”

“And a good evening to you too Kerry.” Kerry rolls his eyes and waits for Johnny to continue. “Just thought we could, you know, catch up.”

The white-haired Rockerboy stares back incredulously,

“I saw you a week ago when you came bothering Vince, more’s the pity, had nothing to say to you then, even less now.”

“Ker, we’re going through some stuff to help you out here, a little bit of….”

“Whaddya mean ‘we’? Shiiiiiiit, you’re there with him aren’t you? You’re both gonna fucking get killed. If he gets hurt cause you fucked up I’m gonna personally rip off that good arm at hit you with the wet end. Sheesh. What you bothering me for anyway...has something happened?” Kerry asks in sudden alarm.

Johnny shakes his head in what he hopes is a comforting manner, “Chill choom, he’s just talking to some chick,” Johnny notices Kerry bristle slightly, “we’re nearly done, should be back in a few hours. I was thinking…maybe we could…y’know, get together for a jam when we get back?”

The other man puts the drink he is holding carefully down on the coffee table and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Say that again.”

“I just thought, we could maybe, recapture a bit of that old magic.” Johnny says awkwardly.

“You know I don’t need this right?” asks Kerry, “My last album went fucking platinum over night, I sell out stadiums choom. What’s in it for me?”

“V would like it if we got along.” Johnny wasn’t trying to score a point, merely musing, but it strikes a chord with Kerry nonetheless.

Kerry sighs, “Fine we’ll give it a try. If I hear the magic word.”

Johnny still can’t get used to Kerry having the upper hand, but he needs him on side, “OK fine, please.”

“Get that man back in one piece and we’ll talk.” The call cuts off abruptly and Johnny slumps back into his seat, that’s the scariest shit he’s done all day.

V is sat looking more confident than he feels opposite Selene at a rickety wooden table in a room reminiscent of the one on the BD. He’s hyper-aware of being watched by several pairs of distrustful eyes, even if he wanted to try something stupid, he’d never make it out alive.

“I doubt you really came all this way to talk over old times,” says the woman softly, “I’ve seen the scream sheets, the feeds, you’re seeing that Rockerboy feller, that Kerry Eurodyne. If you’re here for vengeance it’s not gonna end well for you Vincent my sweet boy.”

“No, not vengeance. We found this.” V hands the shard over to Selene who hisses through her teeth and whispers urgently to one of the assembled goons.

“Someone fucked up, that’s not for public consumption, but if not vengeance then why are you here?”

“Information. Kerry clearly didn’t get flatlined that night, made it home safe the next day, how? Why? What happened in between?”

Selene sits back in her chair staring V in the eye like she’s deciding which version of the story to tell, she decides on the truth…

The car is crowded, the two scavs are in the back with Kerry slumped between them and Selene with her bodyguard driving are in the front. “Where we taking him?” asks the burly hustle.

“Out to Biotechnica Flats, but near the highway so that he’ll be found quickly, can’t let the Corpo scum think they can take us for a joke, I think they’ll get the message when their poster boy is being brought home in a body bag.”

Around half an hour into the incredibly dull journey a deep voice pipes up from the rear seats, “Hey, erm, Selene, I don’t think he’s breathin’.”

“Shit, shit, shit. Stop the car!”

In some ways, this is ideal, saves them a messy and unpleasant job, but having him flatline from an overdose of partying rather than a gunshot isn’t exactly the message they’re trying to send. The car squeals to a halt on the deserted highway and the men in the back drag Kerry’s unresponsive body onto the scorching tarmac, where he sustains his only major injury of the night, a cracked elbow.

“Fucking Hell Clive, do something.” Selene screams at the bodyguard, but his specialty is bullets not heart attacks so he stands staring with the rest of them, until…

“Of course he’s got Trauma Team Platinum.” Sighs an exasperated Selene as the distinctive AV hovers into view. “Leave him, we need to delta. If they see us we’re fucked.”

The quartet hastily scramble back into the car and, with a screech of tyres, turn back towards the warehouse leaving the Rockerboy at the side of the road. Selene watches the action through the rear camera, as he gets lifted into the AV she reflects on how fucked they’re all going to be when the boss finds out.

“And we’re you? Fucked I mean.”

“Woo yeah, got my guys taken off of me, lost my position, my son, Charlie, got shipped to the other side of the country. It was rough. But you know what? I was glad he got away, he seemed like a good guy. Not his fault the corpos and his shitty ex fucked him over, yeah it was fine. I still smile whenever I see him on TV or hear him on the radio, and when I heard that my little Vinny was his mainline I knew it had happened for a reason.”

Selene takes V’s hand and leans forward to look into his eyes, “I’m pleased for you, of how things have turned out, but you know a lot about us now, where we live, what we do, and I can’t hold these guys back forever. You need to leave and don’t talk to anybody about what you’ve seen and heard here.”

V nods and Selene walks him to the shutters and out, “Be safe V,” she looks over to the truck, “and say Hi to Johnny, we had a lotta fun back in the day.” V hides his shock well and heads back to the truck to meet Johnny who is leaning fluidly against the passenger door.

“So, did ya find out what you wanted to know?”

V thinks for a moment lighting a cigarette and passing it to Johnny, “I can’t say that I wanted to know all that, I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”

The story does not surprise Johnny in the least, Kerry’s behaviour was pretty standard even back in the Samurai days, ‘cept back then it was a hopeful punch to the chest or a friendly ripperdoc that brought him back around. “How much you gonna tell him?”

V gives a deep sigh, “Just what he needs to know, tricked by scavs, rescued by Trauma Team, no need for the rest.”

Johnny nods, lying to save someone’s feelings doesn’t really sit well with him but it’s not his biz, and V’s right, Kerry doesn’t need to know the rest.

The ex-merc’s optics glow green as a call comes in, his favourite face fills the screen, “V, hey. I miss you, you heading back? Find anything out?”

“Not much, be home soon. I’ll tell you then…Ker?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x male v #kerry is my muse #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk v #kerry x male v #cyberpunk kerry #v cyberpunk #kerry x v #johnny and v as friends

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