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After Alex left…
"He ran off," Galina announced the obvious as she stepped into the apartment.
"And whose fault is that?" Sasha shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Who said it wasn't part of my plan all along?" Galina smirked, strolling toward the small kitchen with deliberate ease. "Sweetheart, we need to have a serious talk," she said, settling onto the cushioned bench tucked against the wall.
"About what?" Sasha asked, not bothering to turn away from the kettle as she prepared the tea.
"About that guy you seem to have taken quite a liking to." Galina rested her chin on her hands, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she watched the subtle shift in her daughter's expression. "You do know he already has two girlfriends, right?"
"First of all, what makes you think I like him? Second, I'm fully aware Alex is in a relationship," Sasha sighed heavily, dropping the spoon into the glass with an audible clink. "Why are we even having this conversation? If you're worried I'll do something stupid, you can relax," the dark-haired netrunner huffed, pausing to pour hot water into the cups. "I'm not going to interfere."
"That wasn't very convincing," Galina said with a chuckle, shaking her head.
"What's the point of this, Mom? Are you just trying to ruin my mood?" Sasha asked, placing a steaming cup in front of her mother.
"I just want to understand how serious this is for you…" Galina trailed off for a moment, slowly stirring sugar into her tea. "Don't pretend you don't care about him. From where I'm sitting, it seems a bit more complicated than that."
"Fine. I like him. So what?" Sasha said sharply, narrowing her eyes as she glanced up from under her brows.
"Alex isn't exactly steering the ship in his relationships. From what I've seen, it's more like he responded to someone else's feelings," Galina said, her sly smile revealing just how much she was enjoying her daughter's discomfort.
"And how would you know that?" Sasha asked, suspicion lacing her voice.
"I might have picked up some intel from one of his girlfriends," Galina replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Even if that's true, it doesn't change anything. They've been together for a long time, and I have no intention of being a third wheel."
"That's a surprisingly mature outlook for someone your age," Galina said, nodding approvingly. "Still, relationships are funny things, and with the way trends are going, you might actually have a shot."
"Are you suggesting I become the third?" Sasha asked, her tone sharp, leaning on one hand with a mocking smirk.
"I'm suggesting you figure yourself out first," Galina said, her smirk widening. "You might be taking his help a little too much to heart. Honestly, I get it — a young, handsome guy selflessly swooping in to help a girl in need? It's like something out of a fairy tale. Prince charming on a white horse and all that."
"Exactly," Sasha laughed. "Except he's no prince, and instead of a horse, he's got a car…"
"In any case, here's my advice as an experienced, worldly woman: sort yourself out first. If you still feel the same way a year from now, take your shot. But let me be clear — don't expect to hog all his attention. He's a busy guy and, more importantly, reliable, which means you'd have to negotiate with the other girls. If I were a little younger, I might have made a move on him myself." Galina grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying her teasing.
"Judging by our trip, I'd say age didn't bother you much back then," Sasha said, rolling her eyes.
"You reacted to my jokes so adorably, I couldn't help myself," Galina replied, sticking her tongue out playfully.
"You're always like this," Sasha said, her tone softening into a warm smile. For a moment, the atmosphere felt cozy and lighthearted. Then, unexpectedly, she added, "You know, while you were in a coma, I realized a lot of things."
"Oh? Like what?" Galina asked, her brow lifting slightly in curiosity.
"Just… a lot," Sasha replied, her voice evasive. She stood and approached her mother, wrapping her arms around her tightly. "I'm just glad you're okay," she murmured. "I thought I might lose you…" Her voice cracked, and a small sob escaped her lips.
"I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful daughter," Galina said softly, her hand stroking Sasha's hair in soothing motions.
"I'll think about what you said," Sasha whispered after a moment, her emotions settling as she pulled away.
"And by the way," Galina began, her tone shifting with practiced precision, "we haven't discussed your career choices yet. What were you thinking, stealing chips?" Her expression morphed into a mockingly kind and understanding smile, the unspoken reprimand loud and clear.
"Ah, crap…" Sasha muttered, her face falling into a sheepish frown.
"No more stealing. Am I clear, young lady?" Galina's voice turned stern as she loomed over her daughter with mock authority.
"Yes, ma'am," Sasha replied with a cheeky grin, snapping off a mock salute.
"You little joker…" Galina shook her head, exasperated but clearly amused.
***
Alex Mitchell (Volkov) POV
I hadn't expected Galina to be such an extraordinary character. Her borderline inappropriate jokes nearly drove me to the brink. The hints she dropped about intimacy were bold — sometimes outright pushy. When I think about it, that kind of behavior isn't typical for her. She was doing it on purpose. But why? Testing my resolve? Or was there something deeper at play?
"Alright, no point overthinking this," I muttered, slumping into the driver's seat without starting the engine. "Hmm, what's this?" My eyes caught a slip of paper poking out from the glove compartment. "Left here for me, obviously…"
Alex, thank you for taking care of me and my daughter. I don't know why you went out of your way to do it, but I'm grateful. Regarding the police intel — rest assured, you'll get it. But only what we agreed upon. Anything involving confidential data carries risks, for both sides. I trust you understand.
At the bottom of the note, Galina included her contact details: an unregistered phone number and the address of her "black" mailbox. This was a significant show of trust on her part — she clearly understood the stakes. If anyone found out about this arrangement, she'd be fired immediately and slapped with a hefty fine. And if she couldn't pay? Prison would be the next stop for the once-respected police officer.
"On the other hand, the benefits outweigh the risks," I said to myself with a satisfied smile, slipping the note into the inner pocket of my clan jacket.
Our partnership made sense for both of us. Galina would gain an additional source of income and the gear she needed to stay alive in her dangerous line of work. Meanwhile, I'd get firsthand information without the hassle of hacking servers or covering my tracks. Time saved is a priceless asset in any business, and putting those extra hours to good use always pays off — guaranteed.
Outgoing Call - Wakako Okada
"Alex-san, are you calling to place an order or for business?" Wakako's voice was direct and to the point. Typical of her. A businesswoman to the core, she hated wasting time as much as I did.
"For business, Okada-san. Got anything new?" I asked, probing carefully, knowing her well enough to avoid unnecessary small talk.
"Unfortunately, no high-paying jobs in your field have come up recently," she replied, her tone calm but tinged with intrigue. "However, if you're open to earning some extra eddies, I might have a couple of delicate missions for you." Wakako's deliberate phrasing was designed to hook my interest.
I needed a hefty sum to complete my power armor project. It wasn't a cheap endeavor — far from it — especially since I wasn't planning to stop at just one prototype. A colossal expense, to say the least. Even weapons were cheaper to produce; the most expensive part of my plasma rifle was the ammunition, which required highly specialized storage.
"So, what makes these missions delicate?" I asked. Honestly, I wasn't in the mood for assassination gigs or anything similarly messy. Jobs like that tended to attract too much of the wrong kind of attention.
"You need to steal one of Kerry Eurodyne's limited-edition guitars from his apartment," Wakako said, her tone calm and matter-of-fact. "And let me warn you — you're far from the first person to attempt this."
"Steal a guitar…" I repeated, mulling over the job. It wasn't exactly what I expected. "What's the timeline?" I asked, needing specifics to weigh my options.
"This job has been on the table for about six months, so you're not pressed for time. But keep in mind — others will be competing for it," Wakako said, her voice carrying the faintest hint of amusement, likely enjoying the prospect of pitting contractors against each other.
"Competition, huh? Interesting…" I smirked at the idea of potentially crossing paths with another thief gunning for the same prize. "Alright, what's the pay?"
"One hundred thousand eddies, with a generous bonus for a quiet execution," she replied smoothly.
"I'm in," I said without hesitation. Moments later, my inbox pinged with the job details. Wakako's efficiency never failed to impress.
"And one more thing," she added. "The guitar must be delivered directly to me at my salon. You understand — it's a valuable piece and requires delicate handling."
"Thanks for the lead, Okada-san. I'll handle it as quickly as possible," I said, then muttered to myself as the call ended, "And maybe this will give me a break from the workshop. I'm starting to feel cooped up."
The call ended
"Stealing a guitar from an old rocker…" I muttered as I skimmed through the intel.
The client was a man named Gaston Slayton. Apparently, he had tried to buy the guitar through legal channels but hit a wall and decided to go rogue. According to the briefing, Slayton was a die-hard fan of Samurai, the legendary band Kerry Eurodyne had played in alongside the infamous Johnny Silverhand. From the description, Slayton sounded like a complete lunatic, obsessed with anything remotely tied to the band. Not that his quirks mattered to me — the only thing that mattered was that this fanatic was offering a fortune.
Sure, Wakako's specialized gigs paid significantly more, but sometimes I just wanted to switch things up. This job was different, and frankly, it sounded like fun.
Send Message - Kiwi:
"Dropped the patient off at home and picked up a job from Wakako. Long story short, the client's a crazed Samurai fan who wants something for his collection. Mission seems pretty straightforward, but I'll be a bit late."
"Take care of yourself," came her immediate reply. Her immediate response made me smile. It was good to have someone who cared.
Incoming Voice Call – Vega:
"Alex, will you need my help?" Vega's voice came through unexpectedly over my wrist communicator.
"Maybe. Stay on standby," I said, keeping my tone light.