STATIC RUN
CHAPTER 2: GATHERING THE CREW
The messages went out in rapid succession.
Three names. Three locations scattered across the Lower Spiral. Three people who would drop everything and come when she called.
Ripley didn’t explain. Didn’t elaborate. Just sent coordinates and a single word that carried more weight than any explanation could.
Now.
She swept glass from the floor while she waited, her movements mechanical. The broken window let in rain and cold air that smelled like ozone and wet concrete. The drone sat on her workbench now, its casing cracked open, wiring exposed like mechanical entrails. She’d pulled the data core. Backed up everything twice. The holo projector was damaged beyond repair, but she didn’t need to see Dex’s face again.
She’d already memorized every detail.
The fear in his eyes.
The blood on his temple.
The way his hand shook when he reached toward the camera.
Help me, Rip.
She clenched her cybernetic fist, servos whining softly.
Forty-three minutes after she sent the messages, she heard the first motorcycle.
Briggs arrived like a force of nature.
His bike—a massive custom cruiser built to handle his weight and chrome—rumbled to a stop outside Raven Garage with a sound like controlled thunder. The engine cut. Heavy boots hit pavement. Then the door opened and he filled the entire frame.
Six-foot-five. Olive-green skin. Military-grade chrome visible at every joint—arms, shoulders, the reinforced plating along his spine that showed through his worn jacket. His long black braid hung over one shoulder, decorated with metal rings and dog tags that clinked softly when he moved.
Amber eyes found Ripley immediately.
“Rip.”
His voice was deep, steady, the kind of voice that made you feel safer just hearing it.
Ripley barely had time to turn before he crossed the garage in three strides and wrapped her in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground.
She let herself have it. Just for a moment. Let herself feel small and protected in the arms of someone who’d stood beside her through hell more times than she could count.
When he set her down, his hands stayed on her shoulders. Studying her face with the careful attention of someone who knew how to read damage.
“What happened?”
Ripley gestured toward the workbench. “Dex.”
Briggs’s expression shifted. Not panic. Briggs didn’t panic. But something hardened in his eyes—the same look he got right before a fight when he’d decided someone needed to be removed from the equation.
He moved to the workbench, his massive frame surprisingly careful as he examined the broken drone. His chrome fingers traced the scorch marks along the chassis.
“JinTech drone,” he said quietly. “Modified. Civilian model pushed way past safety limits.” He looked at Ripley. “He sent this?”
“Yeah.”
“How bad?”
“Bad enough he couldn’t come himself.”
Briggs was quiet for a long moment. Then he straightened, rolling his shoulders in a gesture Ripley recognized. The one that meant he was already planning how to break things.
“You remember the Nakamura job?” she asked.
A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “You mean when you convinced me to climb forty stories of external scaffolding in a thunderstorm?”
“You said you trusted me.”
“I said I trusted your engineering. There’s a difference.” But his tone was warm. “That scaffolding held. Barely.”
“It held enough.”
They’d met on that job. Five years ago. Ripley had needed muscle for a data extraction that required someone who could carry two hundred pounds of stolen servers down a fire escape while under active pursuit. She’d heard about an orc street samurai who was reliable, professional, and terrifyingly effective.
What she hadn’t expected was someone who treated violence like a last resort instead of a first option.
Someone who checked on her after the job to make sure she’d gotten paid.
Someone who became family.
“The Yamazaki warehouse,” Briggs said, his gaze still on the drone. “When Dex hacked their security and accidentally triggered the fire suppression system.”
Ripley almost smiled. “He was so embarrassed.”
“Kid saved our lives. That foam bought us thirty seconds we didn’t have.” Briggs turned to face her fully. “He’s in trouble. Real trouble. You wouldn’t have called otherwise.”
“JinTech has him.”
Something dangerous flickered across Briggs’s face. “Then we get him back.”
No hesitation. No questions about odds or risk or whether this was smart.
Just immediate, absolute commitment.
That was Briggs.
“The others?” he asked.
“On their way.”
He nodded once and moved to stand near the broken window, positioning himself where he could see the street. Guard duty. Watching her back even when she hadn’t asked.
Ripley felt something tight in her chest loosen slightly.
One down.
Nyx arrived twenty-three minutes later in a battered van that looked like it had been assembled from three different vehicles and held together with spite.
She stumbled out of the driver’s seat looking half-dead.
Electric-blue hair stuck up in every direction. One natural eye bloodshot. One cybernetic eye flickering with residual code. She wore an oversized hoodie three sizes too big and pants that might have been pajamas. In one hand she clutched a travel mug that probably contained something that barely qualified as coffee.
She blinked at the garage like she wasn’t entirely sure where she was.
“Rip?” Her voice was hoarse. “What time is it?”
“Does it matter?”
“No. But I was in the middle of—” She stopped, swaying slightly. “Wait. Why am I here?”
Briggs caught her elbow before she could tip over. “Easy.”
“Briggs?” Nyx squinted up at him. “When did you get so tall?”
“You’re still jacked in, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” She took a long drink from her mug, grimaced, then took another. “Okay. Disconnecting. Give me a second.”
Her cybernetic eye flickered rapidly—code scrolling across the lens too fast to read. Then she blinked hard, shook her head, and suddenly her gaze sharpened.
“Okay. I’m here. I’m present. What’s the emergency?”
Ripley gestured to the workbench.
Nyx crossed the garage in quick, jerky movements—all nervous energy and caffeine. She examined the drone with the focused intensity of someone reading a language only she understood.
“Oh shit,” she breathed. “This thing shouldn’t be flying. The power core is fried. The navigation system is—” She looked up sharply. “Who sent this?”
“Dex.”
The color drained from Nyx’s face.
She’d been the one who taught Dex half of what he knew. Taken him under her wing when he’d shown up three years ago with more enthusiasm than skill and a laptop held together with duct tape. She’d been patient with him in a way she wasn’t with anyone else.
Ripley had always suspected Nyx saw herself in Dex. The younger version. The one who still believed hacking could change the world.
“Where is he?” Nyx’s voice had gone flat. Dangerous.
“We don’t know yet. That’s why you’re here.”
Nyx set down her coffee mug with exaggerated care. “Show me everything.”
Ripley handed her the data core.
Nyx jacked a cable directly from her cyberdeck into the core, her cybernetic eye lighting up as data flooded her vision. She stood perfectly still for thirty seconds. Then sixty. Her natural eye tracked invisible patterns while her cybernetic eye processed code at inhuman speed.
“JinTech encryption,” she muttered. “Corporate-grade. But there’s something underneath. Dex’s signature.” Her fingers twitched like she was typing on an invisible keyboard. “He layered it. Smart. Anyone else would’ve missed it.”
“Can you trace it?”
“Give me time.” Nyx disconnected the cable and looked at Ripley with an expression that was pure determination. “You remember the Helios Station job?”
Ripley nodded. “You hacked a satellite.”
“I hacked three satellites and rerouted an entire corporate communications network while you and Briggs were stealing a server the size of a refrigerator.” Nyx’s grin was sharp. “Dex was on overwatch. Kept the security feeds looping for forty minutes straight without a single glitch.”
“He’s gotten better since then,” Briggs said quietly.
“He has.” Nyx’s expression softened. “He’s good, Rip. Really good. If he sent this drone, if he used his signature encryption—” She stopped. “He knew we’d come.”
“Of course we’re coming.”
“Then let’s stop talking and start moving.” Nyx grabbed her coffee mug and drained it in three long swallows. “I’ll need my full rig. And about six more of these. And maybe some actual food, but that’s negotiable.”
Ripley felt the knot in her chest loosen another fraction.
Two down.
Declan arrived last, and he arrived in style.
A sleek black car pulled up outside—expensive, probably stolen, definitely not his. He stepped out wearing a tailored suit that looked like it cost more than Ripley’s motorcycle, his dark hair perfectly styled despite the rain.
He walked into Raven Garage like he was entering a corporate boardroom.
“Ripley, darling.” His smile was pure charm. “You know, when you send cryptic messages in the middle of the night, a girl starts to think you’ve finally realized you can’t live without her.”
“Declan.”
“I was in the middle of a very promising conversation with a very attractive executive who was absolutely about to give me access codes to—” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze landing on Briggs and Nyx. The smile faltered. “Oh. This is serious.”
“Dex is missing,” Ripley said flatly.
The charm dropped like a mask.
Declan’s expression shifted into something harder, sharper—the face he wore when the con was over and real work began. He crossed to the workbench in three strides, his expensive shoes crunching on broken glass.
“JinTech?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, destroying the careful styling. “Okay. What do we know?”
Ripley filled him in quickly. The drone. The message. The encryption. JinTech’s involvement.
Declan listened without interrupting, his brown eyes tracking every detail. When she finished, he was quiet for a long moment.
“You remember the Meridian Gala?” he finally asked.
Ripley almost smiled. “You talked your way past security with a fake identity and a borrowed tuxedo.”
“I talked my way past security, into the executive lounge, and out again with twelve thousand creds in corporate access codes.” Declan’s grin was brief. “Dex ran digital interference. Kept their security AI chasing ghosts while I walked out the front door.”
“He bought you four extra minutes,” Nyx added. “You needed three.”
“He’s always been good at timing.” Declan’s expression sobered. “He’s also twenty-three and thinks he’s invincible.”
“He’s not invincible,” Briggs said quietly. “That’s why we’re going to get him.”
Declan looked at each of them in turn. Then he shrugged out of his expensive jacket and tossed it over a chair. Rolled up his sleeves. The corporate executive vanished, replaced by the runner underneath.
“Right then. What’s the play?”
Ripley gestured to the broken drone. “Nyx traces the signal. We find out where they’re holding him. Then we go get him.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“JinTech’s going to have security. Lots of security.”
“Good thing we have Briggs.”
Briggs cracked his knuckles. The sound was like stones grinding together.
Declan’s grin returned—sharper this time, with an edge that promised violence. “I do love a good infiltration.”
“This isn’t infiltration,” Ripley said. “This is extraction.”
“Even better.”
They stood together in Raven Garage—four runners who’d bled together, fought together, survived together. The broken drone sat on the workbench between them like a declaration of war.
Nyx spoke first. “I’ll need a few hours to trace the signal properly. Maybe less if I’m lucky.”
“I’ll start pulling together gear,” Briggs said. “We’re going to need heavy equipment if we’re hitting a JinTech facility.”
“I’ll work my contacts,” Declan added. “See if anyone knows anything about recent JinTech activity. Unusual security movements. Anything.”
Ripley looked at each of them. Her crew. Her family.
“Dex is out there,” she said quietly. “Scared. Alone. Probably thinking we’re not coming.”
“Then let’s prove him wrong,” Nyx said.
Briggs nodded once. Solid. Immovable.
Declan’s smile was all teeth. “JinTech’s about to have a very bad day.”
Outside, the rain continued to fall. Thunder rolled across the Lower Spiral. Somewhere in Helix City, beneath layers of corporate security and encrypted silence, Dex was waiting.
He wouldn’t have to wait much longer.
The crew was coming.
And they were bringing hell with them.