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“We’ll take the job.”

After finishing the final exchange with that “Smith”, Karl watched as Daphne ended the call.

The commission from this client didn’t conflict with Blanca’s; in fact, both seemed to share the same ultimate goal. When two missions could be tackled in one go, there was no reason to refuse.

“Lady working for the New USA,” Karl said, turning to Daphne, “I guess we’re temporary allies now. How about showing us your real face?”

“We likely won’t see each other again after this mission.”

Daphne looked at Karl and replied calmly, “Since there won’t be any future contact, there’s no need to reveal my face. And who knows, the next time we meet, I might be wearing a different one.”

“Sounds like something a professional actor would say. You’ve probably done this kind of thing before.”

Since she didn’t want to reveal her identity, Karl didn’t press further. It was just curiosity, and now that their teams were cooperating, there was no need to satisfy that curiosity by force.

Smith’s mission for Karl’s and Maine’s teams was straightforward: track down the Militech squad and ensure their operation—using unregulated anti-terror equipment to target a key figure in Dogtown—failed.

Blanca’s commission was to eliminate the squad and disrupt the scheme behind them.

The goals weren’t identical, but the process and the targets were the same. In short, wiping out that Militech squad was definitely the right move.

“So, back to the original point,” said Maine, stepping in as his team’s leader, “You guys came to us for our experience in Dogtown to help track those Militech bastards, right?”

“Pretty much. So, this was all a lucky coincidence.”

Karl turned to glance at Daphne: “Though now, we’ve got someone better. A covert agent like her probably has access to more channels than we do.”

After all, Maine’s team weren’t locals either—they just had more experience in Dogtown than Karl’s squad. But that still didn’t compare to someone stationed here for the government.

Daphne didn’t deny it. After scanning the bar, she stepped out from behind the counter, went to the door and locked it, drew the curtains, and set the place into “closed” mode before turning back to them.

“Follow me.”

With that, she walked deeper into the bar.

Karl looked at V, who nodded and followed immediately. The rest split into two groups: Maine’s team (minus Maine) and Karl’s team (minus Karl and V) stayed in the bar. Karl, V, and Maine followed Daphne to the back.

They passed through a slightly grimy but decently maintained kitchen and arrived at an elevator.

“I haven’t gone down there in a long time. Thought it’d be even longer before I needed to again.”

As she spoke, a camera above the elevator began scanning.

Karl asked, confused, “What’s down there? An intel hub?”

“Used to be a safehouse for people like me. But after some bastard—who should be dead now—sold us out, I’m probably the only one in Night City still using this place.”

She entered a code on the control panel, changing the red scanning light to blue. The elevator doors opened.

“Come in. Just heading down to the first basement level.”

So this is the underground space I saw on those blueprints, Karl thought as he stepped inside, eyeing the floor name on the panel: Boiler Room.

A boiler room, huh? A good place to hide a base, honestly.

The elevator ride was short. When the doors opened again, darkness greeted them.

Karl’s eyes weren’t enhanced—still factory standard—so he needed a moment to adjust. Once they had, he was surprised by how large the space was.

Big enough for more than a dozen people to live in comfortably. It was easy to imagine this place once being a hideout for loyalists serving the “nation” on the eve of Militech and New USA’s invasion of Night City.

Now though… It was dusty, stale. Neglected.

“Hold on. Let me check the power. This place hasn’t been maintained in six years. Who knows what still works.”

She fiddled with the controls, then flipped the main switch.

The lights flickered on—dimly—but bright enough to make out the space.

Turning around to face them, she said: “I can’t show you my face, but you can call me Alex from now on. ‘Daphne’ still holds value, and I’d rather not have it leaked over your comms.”

“So you’re attached to the name ‘Daphne the Bartender’, huh? Alex…” Karl mused. “Sounds like a man’s name. Another alias?”

“In this line of work, we use aliases more than our real names. Hell, someone could call me by my real one and I’d probably have to stop and think before realizing it was mine.”

Alex pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, lit one, and after checking the airflow, took a drag.

“When you’ve done this long enough, you don’t know if the face under the mask is the real you, or if it’s the mask that’s truly you. But hey, the air here’s circulating fine—no mold or gas. That’s a win.”

Without checking if Karl was even listening, she walked over to a console, keyed in a series of commands, then gestured for them to approach.

“Here. All the intel you need is here. Access has been granted per mission clearance.”

Karl stepped up and looked at the dusty old terminal. The first line he read was:

Alvin Accord Maintenance Plan

“Wait, this is—”

Alex’s face turned grim as she read the same words.

The Alvin Accord. A peace treaty signed six years ago by the New USA and Arasaka. It prohibited the deployment of New USA military forces in Night City, and established territorial boundaries between Militech and Arasaka. It was the only thing preventing a fifth corporate war.

And now this document said that the Accord needed “maintenance”?

Did something threaten its stability?

Was someone trying to break the fragile balance between Militech and Arasaka, and plunge the world into another war?

Alex quickly navigated the files and pulled up the full report:

Codename: Confidential (Under Protocol 2)

Mission Brief: Alvin Accord Maintenance Plan

Target Individual: Kurt Hansen

Intel Summary: Militech personnel are reportedly planning an attack on Kurt Hansen using unregulated anti-terror unit equipment. The objective is to eliminate Hansen, throw Dogtown into chaos, and replace him with a “patriot” loyal to the state—thereby justifying a renewed federal presence in Night City and dismantling the Alvin Accord.

Operative Instructions:

Infiltrate city council channels.

Confirm details of the anti-terror unit equipment and potential leaks.

Monitor Hansen’s movements and ensure his safety.

Identify attackers.

Assess Night City’s security risks.

Prepare emergency protocols in case of Arasaka intervention.

Remain covert.

Avoid public exposure.

Evacuate cleanly post-mission.

Alex’s eyes paused on the final line: RM.

Her heart raced.

That clearance code—only one person ever used just two letters as authorization.

Rosalind Myers.

The President herself.

This mission was greenlit at the highest level.

Alex had never received a command of this clearance before. Only her former superior—the one who betrayed their organization—used to receive orders from the president.

Brushing aside her thoughts, Alex returned her gaze to the urgent note:

“KK Squad has accepted the elimination mission. All personnel must assist accordingly.”

So the same Militech squad that stole unregistered weapons from the anti-terror unit… was planning to assassinate Kurt Hansen, king of Dogtown, and install a puppet loyal to the state?

It wasn’t about patriotism or national unity. This was an internal coup—a plan by elements within Militech and the New USA to force Rosalind Myers out of office.

In the eyes of the public, Rosalind Myers was either a tyrant infringing on Free States’ sovereignty or a patriot trying to reunify the nation.

No matter which side people took, they agreed on one thing: her goals were only half-complete. The Unification War had stalled.

Opponents feared she’d forcefully absorb Night City next.

Supporters worried her policies would provoke Arasaka into reigniting global war.

If this assassination attempt happened, regardless of who was behind it, she’d take the blame. The public wouldn’t care about internal power struggles.

Her presidency could be over.

Alex understood it all now.

The true goal of this attack wasn’t just to kill Hansen—it was to create chaos, pin the fallout on Myers, and force her to resign.

And while V and Maine were still wrapping their heads around what they’d just read, Karl had already pieced everything together.

After all, when you connected this plot to his previous missions, it wasn’t hard to guess the so-called “patriots'” real intentions. RM clearly stood for Rosalind Myers.

And Karl’s reaction?

“Man, this era’s nations and megacorps are the same damn thing—endless infighting. If they put that energy into taking out their real enemies, most of the world’s problems would be solved.”

Then he chuckled.

“But then they wouldn’t need mercs like us. And that just wouldn’t do.”

–

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