Not Quite Back to the Future

As Faraday entered the lobby, a it's floor polised marble and chrome adorned the walls. A receptionist behind a grand desk greeted them with a knowing nod, having been alerted to his arrival. After a brief security check, Faraday was guided to a private elevator, which whisked them up to the upper floors.

Faraday stepped out into a lavish, dimly lit penthouse, its large windows offering panoramic views of the sprawling city below. The ostentatious yet tastefully decorated room was the epitome of corporate opulence.

Seated behind a massive desk of polished blackwood, a stern-looking executive awaited, their piercing gaze focused on the Fixer. This was Samuel Mathers, a high-ranking figure in Militech's hierarchy, unknown by most and he usually wished to keep it that way.

"Faraday, I presume?" Mathers spoke, his tone measured and authoritative. "I've heard of your reputation. You're the kind of individual who knows how to get things done discreetly… efficiently."

Faraday gave a curt nod in response, making no effort to exchange pleasantries. Fixers like him were used to help make sure that the rabble ultimately answered to that of corporate interests, and the exchange of words was typically kept to a minimum.

Mathers continued, "We have a matter that requires your particular skill set. There's a person of interest who's been causing disruptions to our operations, especially in the past… They recently killed an asset of ours. Think you can take care of them for us?"

"Of course, although there still needs to be talk of payment," Faraday responds

"Take a look first then," Mathers says sliding forward a data chip.

Faraday reached for the data chip, his gloved fingers deftly plucking it from the desk. He examined it for a moment before slotting it into a port at the base of their skull. With a subtle nod, they activated the chip's contents, a flood of information streaming into his cybernetic brain

"I've been aware of this target," Faraday spoke, his voice carrying the weight of past encounters and requests. "Seems they've been making quite a name for themselves."

While in total truth Helen had been a menace to him, she was the one that interfered in that retrieval mission for Arasaka, yet even before that. He knew of the Reaper, she had blackballed him and had been having her monitored.

Mathers leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in thought. "Excellent. That should expedite the process. Just remember, Faraday, this isn't merely about business. It's about sending a message. We need to eliminate this threat and ensure no one else thinks they can screw with Miliatech without consequences."

Faraday nodded, understanding the subtext. In the corporate world, a message was often delivered with a bullet, loudly.

=================================================
Helen and Nyx were parked in a somewhat quiet section of Watson District, one of Night City's districts. The neon-soaked, rain-slicked streets were empty at this hour. Although that didn't stop the distant ringing of gunshots and sirens, Night City was never too peaceful.

"Are you sure this is the right place Nyx? I mean maybe I could break out the old laptop and try netrunning him down myself." Helen says

"With Java Script? I mean what you can do with that program is scary yes, however, anyone worth their salt should easily be able to fight off one of your simple daemons." Nyx calls out.

Helen put her car in park, her pouty expression momentarily directed at Nyx, who seemed unfazed by her frustration. The neon glow of Watson District cast an eerie, ever-changing light across the vehicle's interior. The water on the ground reflects the lights in unique ways.

"Alright, Nyx, we'll do it your way," Helen conceded, although she wasn't particularly thrilled about the prospect.

Nyx remained perched in the passenger seat, his cybernetic eyes scanning the surroundings. "You know, this isn't just any Fixer, Helen. Faraday is elusive, even by Night City's standards. I've been doing some poking around, he is just fucking weird. I mean" Nyx tries to continue but just sighs tired of the crap he's had to jump through at this point.

Helen sighed, her frustration slowly giving way to a steely determination. "Well, we're not leaving here empty-handed. Faraday is our best lead on this whole mess, and I want answers."

"I have a feeling that you actually already know what's going on and are just going through the required motions." Nyx monotones.

Helen giggles and smiles at her cat. "You'll never know sweetheart," Helen says stepping out of the car closing the door behind her.

Nyx locks the car door knowing that he's on the lookout. By the time he's looking back up from the panel, Helen is already halfway up the 4 story warehouse in front of them.

"She's even more nimble than me… Why do I have to have such a troublesome master."
============================================

Elena Nava stood in the middle of her cozy apartment, her heart racing and as she was recovering from a panic attack. She had just witnessed Helen, her… neighbor, storming out of her apartment like a force of nature, she had never felt that much blood lust before. It was a terrifying sight, as Helen was typically composed and friendly, although anyone who could get onto a corpo network could find out about her past.

Elena had always been intrigued by her neighbor, afterall how could someone called the reaper be peacful. Helen was a figure of contradictions, a retired hitwoman with a penchant for heavy cybernetics, someone who had fought the world and won. Yet chose to live in this nondescript building, and retire? Over time, Elena had of course crafted her own theories about Helen's background and occupation off of the bits and pieces she could figure out. But now, watching her leave in such haste had shaken Elena's curiosity and concern to the core. Had she found out about her snooping… Actually, what was that cat?

As she paced her living room, Elena's hands trembled as she reached for coffee cup on the cluttered table. She took a shaky sip, trying to regain her composure. In her anxious state, Elena couldn't shake the nagging question: Should she do something about it? Was it any of her business?

And WHAT WAS THAT CAT!