Created G.H.O.S.T. System - A Cyberpunk Story

By the next morning, Trace had spent a considerable amount of time inside the virtual gun range. His body was sick and tired of getting shocked every time he got something wrong. Somewhat miraculously, he had started to get more things right as a result.

His aim had improved significantly, and his form had seen a quantitative improvement. He was by no means a qualified sniper. However, in the space of a few days, he had gone from someone who could barely hit a target ten feet in front of him to an actual decent shot.

Regardless, he decided that it was time to make an attempt at completing the second job he had been given. Stick-Point wouldn’t give him any more jobs until he had finished both jobs, and he had a pretty hefty debt hanging over his head that he needed to pay off.

Trace grabbed the scout rifle and disassembled it to store inside his courier bag. He needed to make a stop by the nearest gun shop and get a suppressor for it, and then he could move into position.

He pulled up the information on the job as he rode the elevator down.

There wasn’t much to it. The client just wanted the target iced quietly, preferably at their home. No sticky fingers allowed. This was a statement piece, despite the low difficulty and resulting low pay.

That was where the scout rifle came into play. He would see if he could eliminate the target from a distance, using it as a sniper rifle. If not, then he would need to get up close and personal. There was a greater chance he would be seen that way. More mess and fuss.

Sniping would be easier all around. Thankfully, this model would connect to his eyes, something he had been deliberately avoiding doing inside the virtual training sessions. He wanted it to help, not be a crutch he depended on. He had lived without the ability to connect with his targeting reticles for this long. Granted, his aim had sucked, but that had at least partially been a lack of knowledge and training.

The nearest gun store turned out to be just outside the doors of the apartment building, which was rather nice. He walked in, and a minute later, walked out a little poorer, and with a new suppressor. Interestingly enough, the threading for the barrel of the scout rifle was only a little larger than what his semi-auto needed. So, he bought an adapter to use it for that gun as well. It wouldn’t be quite as effective due to the improper sizing, but that was fine.

It took him some time to get to the target’s location, which was an apartment building with a club that operated out of the bottom four floors. Just thinking about living in such a place had Trace reaching for his earplugs. Buildings like this always said they had great soundproofing, and yet somehow even the top floors always managed to hear the noise from the club below.

Trace entered the building across from it and rode the elevator to the roof. From there, he used the magnification ability in his eyes to look across and locate the appropriate apartment. Thankfully, this building was several floors shorter than the other one.

After he found the right apartment, he pulled out the rifle scope to get a better look. It was then that he remembered something he had managed to forget rather spectacularly. The windows of any apartment in the city were going to be thick and virtually bulletproof. The bullets his scout rifle was firing might scratch them, but that would be about it.

If he wanted to do some proper sniping, then he would need something far more powerful than what he currently had. Or he would need to get lucky. Which wasn’t the case this time. All the windows were closed, leaving him with no easy shots.

The sniper rifle back at the apartment fired specialized piercing rounds for exactly this sort of situation. However, he really didn’t want to touch the other man’s guns until he knew for sure that he was dead.

Putting the scope away, Trace cracked his neck and stood. Ever since getting the new NetConnect, his neck had been sore more often.

Regardless, this job would have to be done up close and personal. He opened his courier bag and checked the side pocket to make sure the module he needed was still there. He had put a few of them in there before, one of which was the system-breaching module he had swiped from the drawer back at the apartment.

If he was going to sneak into the target’s apartment, then he was going to need the system-breaching module. Breaching systems was not part of his skillset, and he wasn’t sure if it ever would be.

His programming lessons had revealed a few things to him about himself and the way he thought. Once something was shown to him when it came to programming, he could understand it fairly quickly. However, that was not the mental framework he needed for original, creative programming and finding the loopholes that a breacher programmer needed to be proficient in.

It was fine for repairing broken technology, which was why he had originally wanted to learn how to program. Now, he wasn’t sure if that was going to be enough anymore. The introduction of the G.H.O.S.T. System had changed a few things for him. He would always enjoy working on that stuff, but it no longer felt like the end goal for that part of his life.

Back down on street level, he avoided the entrance to the club and took the main entrance to the building.

Trace was uncomfortably aware of all the cameras monitoring him and everyone else who passed by. Unlike the ones in his new apartment building, these were actually plugged into the system and working. Supposedly, his mil-spec eyes came with the minor ability to blur his face. However, it was also old tech and not something he wanted to depend on if he could help it.

Besides, there was a lot recognizable about him, even if you discounted his face, and some security cameras had enough resolution to pick up a target’s fingerprint just from the video. Granted, not many places recorded video in that high of quality due to storage issues, but it was always a concern.

The best thing he could do was get off at a different floor and then find another way down.

Such was the life of a wraith.

The cost of being silent and invisible was finding a way around all of these difficulties on his side. Of course, that was generally why wraith jobs paid so much better than the other specialties. The training required to do them well was on a whole other level. You weren’t simply one thing. Most edgers who attempted to become wraiths eventually washed out and became something else instead. He was determined not to let that happen to him.

His little trip to the other building had been recon for this eventuality and not just searching for an easy sniper’s perch. He had been able to look over the outside of the building and see how everything was put together.

There were the usual balconies and windows/doors with the buttons by their sides. However, he had noticed something interesting about those buttons as he was looking the place over. The button on the topmost club floor had been pulled apart. Hidden behind the basic button was the data port he hadn’t been able to find earlier.

With that information now at his disposal, he had a possible method of entry. All he had to do was find a way to get down to the balcony without killing himself and an empty apartment. He wasn’t willing to take a second leap of faith. One of those had been plenty for him.

Closing his eyes, Trace mentally went through each of the apartments on the floors above his target. He was looking for one that had its lights out and also looked like no one was home. The two weren’t always synonymous with each other.

He found a possible apartment three floors above the target. Next, he began looking for anything that would get him down to the target’s floor and over to the balcony. Either a lot of rope, or suction devices, though he wouldn’t really trust the latter in the windy, sand and dust-ridden environment that was Denver. Who knew when the last time the windows had been washed was, if ever?

Not that he was likely to find suction devices just lying around anyway. Rope, there was a better chance, though, probably not in the lengths he needed.

Trace found several lengths of rope, along with climbing suction cups in the fourth supply closet he tried. Apparently, this building did have its windows cleaned, though judging by the dust on the items themselves, it wasn’t often. Regardless, they were his now, permanently. The climbing equipment consisted of three different components. A pair of gloves, kneepads, and a set of odd-looking cups that attached to the front of whatever boots you were already wearing.

The rope would be useful on future jobs, and the suction cups were worth his weight in credits.

The only bad thing is, they didn’t really fit in his bag. That meant he would be left carrying it all out in the open unless he could find something else to cover it all with. Normally, he would have put it in the duffel bag he used for the goodies he acquired during a job. Except that was specifically mentioned as being not something he could do during this job.

That left him stealing everything else that was in the room that might hide the actual items. In other words, a bucket, a few towels, and a pair of overalls.

With those in hand, he kept his head low, hat angled, and headed for the stairs.

One floor down, he used the sensor suite in his eyes to make sure the apartment was empty before breaking in.

Once he was inside the apartment, Trace came to a realization that had him making a note to himself for later.

ALWAYS BRING THE DUFFEL BAG!

Even if he couldn’t grab anything from the target, there were always going to be incidentals along the way. Look at what had happened on this job. He already had several items he wanted to keep. Not to mention, he was now in an apartment that he could most definitely grab things from if he wanted to.

He would need to find out about the owner first and determine for himself how scummy they were. Assuming he could find a bag among their belongings to make any of the effort worth it.

First though, he had a job to do.

Trace grabbed the suppressor from his courier bag and attached it to the semi-auto that was on his thigh. The suppressor stuck out the bottom, and he would need to be more careful when he drew the gun. However, at least he wouldn’t need to worry about putting it on in a rush later.

The system breaching module was already in one of his neck ports from when he opened the door to the apartment.

All he had left to do was go outside and get down to the right balcony. To get outside, he had to pop the cover off the button that led out to the balcony and jack into it. It took a few moments, but soon enough, the glass balcony door slid open for him.

He tied the rope off to the side of the balcony and attached the suction cups to his feet, knees, and boots. With that done, he took hold of the rope and stepped off the side.

Hanging there above balconies far below was a terrifying experience. He had to go down three floors and over five balconies. It was not going to be an easy climb, but he had several lengths of rope and the climbing suction cups which would help immensely.

Honestly, if he hadn’t found either of those items, the only other method of accomplishing the job would have been going in through the front door. Not exactly the best plan.