The heavy taps of black high-heels rapidly stomp one after the other across linoleum floor. Corpos throughout the halls stand idle doing fuck all... cutting their conversations as they see the owner of these heels and move out of her way. Some bow their heads in respect... others offer a nervous smile with wavering eye contact. The smells of fresh roasted coffee and business colognes combine with designer perfume and recently cleaned carpets. The woman makes her way through the long, wide PetroChem megabuilding halls to a gold elevator.. the piercing blue light scanning her before opening.
The elevator rises with a gradual hum... in a brief pause of stillness, the stonefaced woman takes the moment of privacy to hyperventilate; Catching her fall with a posted hand on a wall in the elevator... struggling to catch her breath. Shades of her humanity piercing through the cracks of her corporate shell while no one's looking. To climb this high to the top and still remain rocksteady is often only possible for those who've ridded themselves of such things like 'humanity'. This one however... seems to have somehow slipped through the cracks. She quickly gathers herself before taking a final deep breath... stabilizing the shaking in her hands with a tight clench. The emotionless gaze worn by a veteran of this daily struggle washes over her face... the elevator dings open.
She enters an executive suite with a birds eye view overlooking the sunny, bustling Night City Center. The lavish opulence of the office suite glimmered in the eye of the sun's rays beaming in through the wall sized windows. A beautiful black and gold theme was present throughout... marbled pillars and floors with glossy high-polish reflections. Intricate corpo trinkets and framed awards rest in calculated locations for prestige. Spotless jet black carpets sported golden PetroChem branding with various gold patterns and trim throughout. Another executive leaned up against his black wooden desk smokes a cigarette... staring out into the City with his arms crossed. He speaks flatly... a deep tone.
"The postmortem. Is it complete."
"Yes sir." The woman promptly responds. "They're still digging through the details. The clean up is gonna be a real bitch... collateral damage reached most of the block and across the street.. fortunately HQ remained untouched. Families of the deceased employees are being paid for their silence and cooperation with public statements. N54 and all other media outlets sniffing around are being fed diversion or damage control."
She steps across the black and gold marbled floor... her high heels tapping one after the other causing a hollow echo to flutter through the air. The fabric of her jet black corpo skirt rubs against her thighs as she makes her way beside him... joining him looking out into the cityscape... stood straight with hands clasped behind her back. She continues.
"Product is completely irretrievable. No security footage recovered now that the buildings been leveled. In house Netrunners have been given their directive but might take a while having to be discreet. Several eye-witnesses are being probed as we speak. Instructions were clear to focus on intel gathering over cleaning on the building site... not much you can do with a fucking explosion though. Its everywhere by now. Dealing with this by the book is going to take a shit ton of time."
He listens on gazing out into Night City, taking long drags of his smoke... his gold ring with the PetroChem logo on his middle finger briefly catching the sunlight reflects off. He speaks.
"Rectifying the product shortage is priority number one regardless of time." He takes a deep breath with finger tips on forehead... calculating the compounding problems looming on the horizon. "The new formula won't be easy to replicate. Why the fuck was security not-"
"Board made the call sir... they decided on discretion for the project over security."
"Fuck discretion. They're shooting themselves in the foot. The product was integral to finally obtaining leverage over Sovoil... autonomy from Biotechnica itself for fuck's sake. For it to go up in smoke just like that... cleaning this up is gonna be a real bitch let alone rebuilding production momentum." He takes another drag.
"What are next steps sir."
The exec pauses briefly... thinking deeply while smoking.
"...Project production is priority one. Touch bases with the research team. See what can be done about the product setback... if further funding is needed for whatever reason... provide it. Have the auditors on high alert. If any traces of the formula make their way to the streets I want to know about it. Its essential this doesn't get into the wrong hands."
"And the goons who did it?" She asks.
A long pause takes place between the two... each looking out into the cascading Night Cityscape... hearing the muffled sounds of a busy city behind thick glass in each other's presence.
"Get local PD to sniff around... keep it to a minimum though... don't have the time or resources to stretch thin on this considering the state of the product. Start with the vehicle witnesses saw." He continues as we quietly see Brian and Zaunya driving through the pitch black badlands with the city off in the distance from the night prior.
"Fact is... whoever did this... knew exactly what they were doing... just have to find out why... to find the who."
Zaunya takes drags of her smoke in the passenger seat... a fixed gaze out the window into the badlands. Brian meanwhile has his gaze fixed on the bright neon lights of Night City off in the distance. The rumbling engine of the Butte settles into the late evening breeze... the warmth of the cab takes over the pair sharing a quiet, somber silence after such personal intensity.
The bonds and connections made any given day in Night City can grab hold of you as strongly as they can push you away. Whom you choose to trust... to open up to... could lead to outcomes you may not wish on your worst enemies. The collective experiences you have may drive you down a path you'd soon rather set ablaze than take a single step down.
Completely exhausted, the desire for the two to interact at this point is far gone... with so much on each of their minds and so much they'd like to say... for one reason or another... they've both found it best to keep words... thoughts to themselves. The quiet ambience of the baron badlands, far away from that of Night City's booming, relentless ambience is a welcome change of pace... allowing for some quiet time to organize thoughts.
The pair slowly approach a parking lot... neon pink lights gradually fill the cab the closer and closer they get.