“Target expected to enter the designated stretch in five minutes.”

Lying back slightly in the passenger seat, Karl listened to the mission feed through the headset embedded in his combat suit, waiting quietly.

The Militech-disguised cargo truck was parked behind a hillside off a Badlands highway, less than 200 meters from the road—just close enough to allow a quick intercept once the Arasaka convoy appeared.

Militech’s crew were clearly veterans at this kind of operation. Karl, having never pulled a job like this before, kept silent on comms—he didn’t say a single word.

Still, he listened to every message, and his impression?

Militech really did live up to the “military” part of their name. Even their idle pre-mission chatter was restrained and laser-focused on task execution. No unnecessary banter. Just brief, clean updates.

That stark contrast with the kind of comms he’d intercepted while working with T-BUG—gang chatter full of profanity, ego-tripping, and useless noise—made Karl genuinely appreciate Militech’s professional tone.

What Karl didn’t realize was that while he was inwardly praising their military discipline, Meredith Stout—seated beside him at the wheel—was mentally fuming.

‘These assholes are always mouthing off when we’re back at base—so chatty because they’re on loan from Special Ops and not officially under my command. But now that KK’s here, everyone suddenly forgets how to speak? The hell?’

Meredith was seriously tempted to jump out, rip off their helmets, and check if they were even the same people.

All because KK was riding in the truck? As if he were some kind of monster.

Click.

Karl noticed her death grip on the steering wheel tightening. Looked like she was about to snap it in half. He considered asking if everything was okay… but thought better of it. For all he knew, this was like Johnson’s tricked-out car—maybe the wheel had hidden ignition or combat controls. Best not to mess with the pros.

The tense silence didn’t last long. As the Arasaka convoy neared, the Militech vehicles powered on.

One-way tinted windows slid up slowly. Sand kicked up in the wind as the cargo trucks rolled out onto the road. Not long after, silhouettes of Arasaka vehicles appeared in the distance.

The Arasaka transport team was moving fast. With the Militech trucks deliberately cruising at reduced speed, the convoy quickly caught up.

Karl watched as Arasaka’s vehicles passed them without a hint of suspicion.

Now he understood why.

From the outside, Militech’s trucks were just ordinary Columbus V340-F haulers. Common, affordable, underwhelming. No armor, no visible weapons—certainly no threat. Compared to Arasaka’s heavily modified freighters and escort vehicles, they were barely worth a glance.

And considering how many of these trucks probably ran cargo through the Badlands every day, Arasaka couldn’t afford to be paranoid about every single one. That’d delay shipments, piss off corporate, and get everyone’s bonuses slashed.

Reading their mindset perfectly, Meredith watched as two armored freighters and a single escort APC rolled by. Her expression turned cold.

Thirty meters. Twenty. Ten…

She mentally counted down the perfect strike distance.

“Detonate charges.”

With her command, the pre-planted remote and proximity mines exploded almost simultaneously. A thunderous blast tore upward beneath the lead truck, lifting it into a side roll as armor plating crumpled and suspension gave out.

Even with Arasaka’s reinforced chassis, the explosion was enough to tip the vehicle violently. The driver’s terrified screams echoed as the truck slammed onto its side.

The second truck, maintaining what should’ve been a safe following distance, slammed the brakes—but its weight and momentum carried it straight into the wreck of the first. A massive crash followed.

“Most Arasaka drivers used to be gangsters. They live for speed and mods. Their idea of a ‘safe following distance’ is bullshit when things actually go south.”

As someone from Militech—the corp that hated Arasaka more than anyone—Meredith knew exactly how their enemies operated.

She offered a quick explanation to Karl, then spoke into comms again: “Hold off the nomads. We’re activating the jammers first. Once we’ve got comms down, they can do what they want with the vehicles—just leave the cargo intact.”

“Commander, they’ve already started shooting.”

Hearing that, Meredith turned sharply toward the convoy.

Sure enough, more than twenty nomads—supposedly waiting in ambush—had already charged in, opening fire with their mishmash of scavenged weapons.

“Fucking drifters… This is what happens when you work with amateurs. Only a few ops in and they’re already going rogue. Idiots.”

She cursed, but her hands moved fast—activating the comms jammer immediately.

She’d originally intended to wait a few more seconds to ensure the mines were all triggered cleanly. But with the nomads acting on their own, she couldn’t afford the delay.

“Transmit our IFF codes to those trigger-happy morons—make sure they don’t shoot us by mistake. Target the APC. Don’t let it move. Disable it. Then kill every Arasaka bastard who steps out of that wreck.”

She braked hard, pulling the Columbus to a stop. Then she popped the door open and jumped out—clad in a full Arasaka elite combat uniform, wielding a Kang Tao Denshi SMG.

Arasaka uniform, nomad allies, Kang Tao weapon—this op was layered in so many disguises it was laughable.

Karl followed right behind her, hopping out with his own Denshi SMG in hand.

Mission objective: eliminate all Arasaka personnel.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep