Helen had managed to sneak out of the Contenential, Arasaka already had spies watching her however, killing is not allowed on Contenential ground. The high table may be gone however the Contenetnial had a power all of its own.
It was a simple hop skip and a jump, she was in the combat zone.
As Helen made her way into the combat zone, she couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. The contrast between the chaos of Night City and the chaos of the combat zone was stark, yet somehow invigorating. Here, amidst the rubble and ruins of th eold Night City, she felt more alive than ever.
She moved with purpose through the dilapidated streets, her senses sharp and alert for any sign of danger. Arasaka's spies could be lurking around any corner, and she needed to stay one step ahead of them.
Eventually, she reached her destination: a small, nondescript building tucked away in a secluded alley. This was where she hoped to find the firearms dealer recommended by the concierge.
As she entered the building, the scent of gunpowder and oil filled her nostrils. The interior was dimly lit, with rows of weapons lining the walls. A grizzled man behind the counter looked up as she approached, his eyes assessing her with a mixture of curiosity and caution.
"What can I do for you, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice rough with years of disuse.
"I'm looking for a package. Last name Wick."
The man at the counter visibly recoils backwards.
"I am going to need proof of identity."
Helen nods pulling out her old 2016 drivers liscense.
"Damn, you don't look it but you are certainly an oldie."
"Wow, thanks… I'll take the package please." Helen states
The man nods before disappearing into the back room walking out with a sleek black case and a gold plate with one singular name on it Wick.
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Elena woke up to the sound of crying, her ears twitching lightly as her superior night vision scanned the room.
Elena sat up slowly, her eyes adjusting to the dim light of the room. She watched as Helen sat at the desk, her shoulders hunched and her hands trembling slightly as she held a piece of paper.
"Helen, what's wrong?" Elena asked, her voice soft with concern.
Helen looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears. She held out the piece of paper for Elena to see.
Elena's eyes widened as she took in the contents of the letter, recognizing the name at the top left.
"It's from... your former husband," Elena murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
"My dearest Helen," Elena reads, her voice trembling slightly. "I hope this letter finds you well, though I fear it brings nothing but pain. For if you are reading this, then I am gone. I got a lead on your location, and words can not express how happy I am to see you alive. Although what those monsters did to you is something you did not deserve. For that I am sorry, our confrontation is coming up, and I will free you. I love you. John"
Elena looks to see the teary eyed Helen.
"I never thought I'd hear from him again," Helen whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own sobs. "I thought I'd moved on, but... I miss him." Helen says
Elena wrapped her arms around Helen, holding her close as they both drift off to sleep the last few hours being not the best.
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The next morning, Helen and Elena found themselves at the restaurant inside the Continental, a sanctuary one of the few neutral grounds outside of the Afterlife.
As Helen and Elena lingered over their breakfast at the Continental, the atmosphere suddenly shifted. A palpable tension filled the air, causing Helen to instinctively tense up. She glanced around the restaurant, her senses on high alert.
And then she saw him.
Adam Smasher.
He stood at the entrance of the restaurant, a towering figure clad in heavy cybernetic armor. His presence was intimidating, casting a shadow over the serene atmosphere of the Continental. Helen could feel the weight of his gaze as he surveyed the room, his eyes like steel piercing through the facade of civility.
Elena noticed the change in Helen's demeanor and followed her gaze, her expression turning to one of concern as she spotted Adam Smasher. She reached out to grasp Helen's hand, offering silent reassurance in the face of the looming threat.
Helen's jaw tightened as she watched Adam Smasher approach their table with purposeful strides. There was no mistaking his intent – he was here for her.
"Miss Wick," Adam Smasher's voice rumbled like thunder, his tone cold and unforgiving. "We need to talk."