By FoxFaceStories
A Story Tier Prompt for Scoobert
In a future corporate dystopia, the cyberpunk antihero Benji survives by evading the law and keeping ahead of the corpo-industrial complex, taking merc jobs as they come with his trustworthy crew. But when their most profitable infiltration yet requires one of them to become an attractive woman, it’s time to get the bodymods on and become . . . Bonnie Billions!
Bonnie Billions, Part 5
Dark, seedy underbelly. The grime and stain beneath the white shine of The Needle’s upper echelons. Bonnie smirked as she strolled through the dank metal corridors that criss-crossed the layers under the space station’s surface. These were the halls where elites would never treat. Where the blood their pale hands had spilled in secret poured on down, forming pools of shame that could make a Neon Street skincarver blush.
“You can come on out now,” she said, tapping her implanted sunglasses. I got you registered, Deimos.”
The burly white-haired military man stepped out from a substation tunnel, his footsteps echoing like the beats of a badly wired boombox stereo. His expression was grim and humourless, which gave Bonnie quite the kick. Anything to make a G-man squirm, especially one who had seized her neurochemical ability to ride the elevated train to high town.
“You’re sure you weren’t tracked?” he asked.
Bonnie grinned and posed in her rather tight black shirt and trousers, which she knew flattered her very female form. “Not even a playful wink, general? Not even a chance for me to say ‘my eyes are up here, asshole’? ‘Cause I’ve been wanting to say that.”
Deimos remained expressionless, so Bonnie just sighed. “No tracking. Ren tried to have me secretly implanted. His men will be following a three-hundred pound cloud-net surfer down the Needle’s central elevator for now, but they’ll figure it out soon.” “Have you made contact with the vault?”
“I’ve been in the vault, big guy. And I’ve seen what you want. I’ve seen Wintermancer.”
Deimos hesitated. It was enough to make Bonnie blow him a little teasing kiss, just to throw him further off of his game.
“That wasn’t part of your mission parameters.”
“He took me there, splice-brain. Besides, now I know what this mission you’ve got us on is worth. I’m thinking double the amount of credits you’ve offered would be good. And some of the best stims from your own US Government vaults, whatever the Remnant is worth these days. Maybe pressure the Sinjati group to get their cyberblades off of my back, too. Oh, this isn’t a negotiation, by the way. I know what that chip does. It puts you in control of everything. US military Int-Sec right back on top, huh?”
Deimos was silent. Silent, but clearly fuming. He advanced up to Bonnie, but she wasn’t one for being intimidated, not even with her figure as it was. Hell, being a very attractive and curvaceous Nippon-Caucasian girl only made her more confident, these days, despite the high stakes. Or perhaps because of them, knowing her love of danger.
“Are those your only conditions?”
“That, and don’t fuck with me or my crew. Ever again. We don’t push you, and you don’t push us. Run that up your forgotten stars and stripes flagpole or you can shove it up your asshole, not that you don’t already have one up there.” A grimace. A toady look of contempt. And then . . .
“Deal,” Deimos said, extending his hand.
Bonnie hesitated, then took it. Deimos squeezed and squeezed hard. It was enough to make her wince and audibly whimper. Typical power play.
“That’s the last you get to negotiate, kid,” Deimos said. “You’re not irreplaceable, ‘Bonnie Billions.’ Now get back to work.”
“You just make sure that Nygard can help with the hacking,” she said, clutching her wrist. “And that Leon will be there to pick us up in the trash hauler. This job’s gotta run clean as a membrane wire in a finely-tuned tip, or you won’t get your chip.”
Deimos walked away, not even facing her, but he paused at the edge of the tunnel.
“They’ll be ready. Just make sure the plan goes smoothly, Bonnie. Or I’ll punch each of your cards, and gladly at that. I can always try again with the next group. You aren’t the first.”
He left, and Bonnie rubbed her aching wrist. “Neon Christ, what an asshole.”
She didn’t move back through the tunnels, however. Instead, she traced her way through the underhalls of the Needle until she found that other meeting she had organised. Cramped into a small substation where the sec-cams were all disabled and even the cloud-net and cyberspace lost their feeds, was the thin figure of Nygard in his suit and burly Leon in repair tech gear. Both looked up at her as she entered, and Bonnie couldn’t help herself; she cocked her hips to one side with her hand up it, and then clutched the door frame with her other hand and leaned forward. She was well aware of what a delightful figure she was presenting, especially since her stylish black shirt was low cut enough to present just a taste of her terrific cleavage. It clearly worked too, because Leon gave a rather appreciatively broad grin, while Nygard immediately became all red and flustered, and started mopping at the bald patch atop his ginger hairline.
“D-do you really have to be so in-character?” the hacker whined in his British tone. “It’s quite distracting, Benji.”
“Yo, she’s Bonnie now,” Leon said. “And I’d say she’s enjoying it.”
“Damn right I am,” she said.
“Even though we’re all about to be killed by that Deimos bastard the moment we finish the job.”
“Even better,” she replied, stepping forward and leaning over Nygard’s stylus pad, her breasts practically hanging in his face. It was just too fun to tease him.
“You are a monster,” he told her. “You’re like something out of a holo. A naughty one. Can’t you tone it down?”
“No way, Nygard. I’m too flash for that. Way too flash. And you don’t dim flash.”
“At least tell us why we’re here. It’s so grimy.”
“The dirty underbelly of the Needle,” Leon said proudly. “Knew it would be the case. These bastards sunk my homeland beneath the waves before I even got to know it! I’d like to sink their Needle.”
Bonnie rubbed his hair. “You may just get the chance.”
“I ain’t wanting to do right by the US Remnant just to get my trusty prosthesis back.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about something better. Listen, you two, there’s been a change in plans. Deimos and his leash-holders are gonna give us the big sleep once the job is over. They’ll pull our plugs. Cut our juice. Strip the wires from our system.”
“We get it!” Nygard complained. “How do we get out of it?”
“By jumping straight into the fire,” she said. “Nygard, give us the rundown on the plan as it stands.”
The man tapped on his pad and showed a number of specs. “Use Ren’s physical details to get access to the vault. Leon’s hardware, concealed on your person, will get you to the chip. From there, quickly escape using the subservice hatches. I’ll have fooled the system into thinking you’re trash-”
“Which I am. Damn good looking trash, but I’m a Neon Street kid at heart.”
“-and from there, Leon will pick us all up in the trash-hauler which will deposit us back down on Earth. Deimos will be with us.”
“What if he wasn’t?”
Nygard looked up. “He chose the hauler.” “Leon, can you sabotage it on the sly?”
The man flexed his metallic prosthesis. “Fuck up something that US Government needs? How much can I pay you for the privilege, Bonnie?”
“Make it so he can’t know until the last second. Then we spring with the alternate. We need Wintermancer in our own hands. A chip that controls everything? I’d say a bunch of Neon Street crims like us can have a lot of fun with a loaded die like that. Wouldn’t you say? Nygard, we could even use it to find you a girl. A girl who ain’t gonna reject you from the fleshhouse, if you know what I mean.”
Nygard pouted, but then he slowly nodded. “That would be . . . a good use of it.”
Leon chuckled, and then the big islander leaned forward. “I got my own targets fixed up, Bonnie. Real scramble-hack shit. System major malfunction on some ancestral enemies, you know what I’m saying?” “Exactly! This heist no longer belongs to the US Government,” Bonnie said. “And it ain’t a corpo-job either. This is pure crim, pure stim, and we’ll be dancing on the end of the razor till we come on top or find ourselves stripped for organics in the process.”
“Just as you like it,” Nygard said bitterly. “Just as we thrive on it,” Bonnie corrected. “Now, are you in?”
***
Three days later, the job commenced. Bonnie needed to give Ren Takana-Mayson just a few more days to feel comfortable, and besides, she decided a few more serious fucks wouldn’t hurt her too much. The guy was a real sicko, and in just three days his body count had risen another few hundred after his mercs had razed the unionised protests against his eighteen-hour day mandate down in the Colombia region, but he had a big dick and she wanted to screw it a few more times, right before she screwed him back. It had been fun, but not without Ren trying to tighten the leash. Ren liked choking, evidently, and it wasn’t her doing the choking. His control over her was increasing, like a hack-program slowly running its virus through a system.
“You are mine, Yua,” he told her on that final night. “My precious doll. My escort. The time is coming when your need for privacy shall end.”
“This is but a contract, Ren-san,” she told him. “If you wish to renew-”
He grabbed her hand and squeezed it far too tightly, just as Deimos had. “You mistake what this is, Lady Ni-Anison. We have moved beyond contracts. Have you not seen what I am capable of? Already, this world dances to the tune of the Takana-Mayson clan, and soon my control over it will strengthen until it is absolute. You will stay with me until I tire of you, and you will pray that day never comes.”
Well, that had gotten her engine revving. Bonnie had never minded a good old hate-fuck, even if it meant shoving her massive tits in the face of the man who rigged the system she’d ran counter to her whole wetware-crim life. In fact, it made it all the more fun to fuck him so hard he was sent straight into unconsciousness, all so she could do her job. Well, that wasn’t exactly on the legit; she’d also dosed him up with some real knock-out juice coated on the hidden film she’d placed on her lips. Leon had done good work, but the execution was the real thing. Bonnie waited twenty minutes to make sure that Ren was truly out, bastard that he was, and then she got to work.
Fleshcarving had never been her strong suit. Bonnie preferred wetware specialists like Leon or cyber-gear guys like Nygard to sort her out. She’d put together the specs for her glasses, but the installation job had never been her effort. So when Leon had told her that she’d have to conduct a tetchy bit of surgery on Ren in order to pull this caper off, Bonnie had smiled wide and deep.
“I’m looking forward to fucking it up,” she’d told him.
Fuck it up she did. Not too much. Not to fuck up the job proper. But why take the retina when you could take the whole bloody eye?
She left Ren in bed. He’d be fine, and the coag-juice she’d injected with him would stop him from bleeding out too much. Not out of mercy, but Bonnie was aware that the rat bastard had a tracker implant, not to mention a whole team of sec-specialists ready to leap out from their garrison in their Takana-Mayson techsuits, ready to jump anyone who put their boss’s vitals in a downward spiral. Plus, the thought of Ren waking up with a bleeding hole where his left eye used to be was worth all the slimy creds in the world.
Quick as a flashdrive, she got silently dressed into a form fitting tactsuit, a black one that was damn formfitting. She posed a couple of times in the mirror, the light from the rest of the Needle shining in to provide a startling backdrop.
“Flash,” she said, admiring the way the suit conformed to her ample curves and made her look like a walking fetish. Her own fetish once, as recalled. “Absolute fucking flash.”
She did her hair up in a ponytail and readied her gear in the satchel at her side, then made her way through the halls of Ren’s estate. Security guards patrolled the area, itching for an excuse to justify their paygrade. Bonnie switched on her implant-shades and quickly got a bio-signature reading on their locations, not to mention some infrared vision too.
“You all get paid too much,” she whispered to herself. Still, she planted a few littler buzzers on the walls, ready to go off in case she needed a distraction. Nothing too big or else it would trip the scanners, of course.
It took nearly five minutes to get clear of Ren Takana-Mayson’s core estate, and from there she still had to make her way to his tremendous vault. She patched Nygard into her ear comm and caught his connection.
“Bonnie. I’m reading you.”
“Bet you wish you could be watching me too. My ass looks like the tits, and my tits look like heaven.”
“I’d be wary about mentioning heaven. You’re on it. The Needle is as close as it gets, and-”
“And it’s full of corpo-magnate types ripping up our streets down Earthside just to catch some spare creds. Yeah, I get you, Nygard. You and Leon in place?”
“We will be. Keep onwards to Garage 5B. There’s your target.”
“Aces,” she said, and ended the convo before it could hit the traceable one-minute length. She ran using her finely tuned bod, and it moved stealthy as a silent hack across the estate gardens. Her glasses kept her out of harm’s way, and it showed her where the trip-wires and laser sensors were hidden. Soon she arrived at Garage 5B, and sure enough there was a security vehicle there, a Rolo-Dash Mark.II by the looks of it; real impressive stuff. She opened the door and inserted the thumb drive Nygard had cooked up for her, and a second later the electric engine hummed with a calm little purr.
“Attagirl,” she said, and she took off towards the location of the vault.
***
Bonnie’s kick was quick and devastatingly placed upon the man’s joy. The corpo-sec guard dropped like his connection had dropped out, and Bonnie just managed to catch him before he made a loud clang. It was the second guard she’d taken out, and she quickly injected him with some Slow-Mo just to keep him from reacting. His perception of time was about to start overclocking and underclocking at the same time, and someone would need to find him a bucket in the next half-hour, but that wasn’t Bonnie’s concern.
The vault was.
The woman worked quickly. Her heart was beating a thousand times a minute, and it kept the gorgeous former male in high spirits. This was where she thrived; on the knife edge of reality, running and dancing along the blade. Even the best stims couldn’t compare to this kind of risk, that heart-pumping, spine-chilling, temple-pounding adrenaline rush. It was information overload. It was waltzing with the devil, or at least the corporate head honchos, same difference. And in her female Nippon-Caucasian body, Bonnie was finding her system even more flush with trembling bliss. She’d never done a job like this before, and certainly not while female, and it was leaving her emotions on high tempo, like a computer system that was running hot and about to crash. A cyberspace channel with a thousand different threads to pull.
“Fuck yeah,” she whispered to herself.
“Remember the secret, eh buddy?” Leon said over the comm.
“I got it. Don’t you go worrying.”
“Worrying is for Nygard. He’s sweating bullets, man. You just get us that chip so I can upgrade my arm, bro. I want something nuclear, y’know?”
Bonnie smirked, but otherwise continued to work. She applied Ren’s fingerprints, which she had painstakingly accumulated. She ran his eye scan, the recording of his voice keyed to activate the locks, and even a sample of his blood and hair. Nygard was running the hack to make it appear like she was Ren on the feeds, his body language mirrored in her movements, just as she’d observed him. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would have to be enough.
And it was.
The vault groaned as it opened, causing the former man to wince. Richest trillionaire on the planet, and Ren couldn’t be assed to subcontract this bitch out to a company that knew how to make a real vault Mega-hubris of the rich. Pride of the blue bloods. Corpo-knock of mentality at work. Someone made money here by cutting corners and pocketed the rest, and Bonnie Billions promised that if she ever met that man, she’d ride him day and night on the pleasure highway and thank him with every position he wanted.
“We’re in,” she whispered into the comm. “From here on out, you won’t get my signal. Be prepared to intercept if things go wrong, got it?”
Her friends answered in the affirmative. Still no word from Deimos. He was monitoring the mission, but Leon and Nygard were about to discreetly sabotage the trash disposal ship he’d set up for them, and instead go with a new one. If everything went well, Deimos would be left behind in the chaos, and they’d be off with the Wintermancer chip, free and clear, pixels vanished from the vast screen.
“In I go,” Bonnie said.
She advanced into the enormous chamber ahead, through rows and rows and rows of cooled hardware, towards the glass at the centre of the Needle’s apex. There was the chip, the sphere beyond the glass vast and empty, lined with shelves of data; utterly freezing and utterly without gravity. Bonnie cracked her knuckles and readied to silently carve a circle through the glass, a rope at her side ready to spool herself back.
“Going somewhere, Miss Ni-Anison?” came a voice.
She turned, ready to strike, but saw that a pistol was already aimed at her head from thirty feet away. Ren’s manservant Daeh stood there, his expression stoic and unamused, one hand on a device that was clearly calling for reinforcements.
“Stay still, or I will shoot you. Now, what have you done with my master’s eye?”
To Be Continued . . .