TTI rewrite with compound concept.

The ringing woke me like always. Internal time clock said it was to damn early. Hard fluorescent lights cutting on beckoning me away from any chance of more sleep. A long sigh and i pulled myself out of the sleep tube. Augmented reality flashing up as I came out into the main room. News, weather, messages that had stacked, and some special programs that recorded police action around my place. Shower, lukewarm, never quit long enough. Reading as the water streams down. Tossing on a pair of baggie shorts, shirt, flip flops. Out into the common area. The coffee maker just finished brewing. First cup while I finish up the morning reading.

Others join me in the common area most beelining to the coffee pot. Light conversation starts up since we were coming back from off time. Wil comes in and the conversation tapers off. Wilhemina Koerner lead EMT for the team.

“Welcome back everyone. Many thanks for a weekend with no arrests, no new gangs threatening us, and no one picked up by the other crews,” she says sitting down on the couch. “Off coming shift is really more of the same, seeing and increase in violence in the north side and around the city center. Most reports are saying gang on gang, but you never know when a client may get caught up into that shit,” Wil said starting in the distance reading off her own internals. Call volume was always high but we take the most count of our high paying customers, and once in a while those were head gangers, rare but not unheard of. Blasting into a combat area around the city was more fun than parameter duty in in the city center anyways.

“Alright, finish up your morning routines gear up and be in geared up and with the buss in two hours,” Wil said and the band broke up. Dishes washed, a quick workout, into the arming area.

Under layer is a skin tight body glove. Holes cut to leave several plugs in my arms and legs, hold overs from my military time, exposed for use. Cover all’s boots and armor. Links to the armor connected in. Last the helmet, all connections checked twice. Down a hall to the to the armory for weapons draw.

Kriss model autos up graded from there sub machine gun roots. The action directing the force of recoil down instead of directly back into the shooter. The less felt recoil made it easier to keep on target during burst fire and full auto. The small package made for ease of use in cleaning through the blocks of apartments, and other tight areas.

Also carried in the bus, at least two light machine guns. Belt fed full autos that would make for ease of crowd control in the street. Added to the mounted gun on the bus. Benefits of working for top dog in your field no shortage of good toys.

“Time to earn some pay,” Issac Dering said hefting his machine gun over his shoulder. Isaac is my partner for security, long time corporate agent, bodyguard, and enforcer. Time that have him just as much trigger time as my time in the in military service, both national and private. Bought out and brought over to TTI after a “Falling out” with his last Corp. It was decided after he left two hit squads dead in a rather embarrassing manner. TTIs recruiters are always on the lookout for talent.

Bus hanger #6

The bus, a colloquial term for ambulance that has been passed though the years, is a AV-4B Aerodyne armed, armored, and outfitted with the latest emergency medical equipment. Expertly controlled by our pilot and copilot. Both long had been on long term with TTI. Only been shot down once a piece. They circled the bus on preflight checks. The patient doors were open with Wil and D doing there own checks, the bus had some of the best medical gear on the market. While I’m more of a simple tourniquet and pack kind of man Wil and D never failed to impress. Even when it came to the neural hack work, more Ds specially. Not that I know much even about to the neurals and jacks that were put into me.

Checks on the bus finished. Strapped in, suits synced up, locked and loaded for action. TT226 Pulled out of hanger 6 and into the air of night city. Ready for another rotation out. Barely reached cruising altitude before the first call came in.

TT226, client alarm. Transmission of location now. Appears to be multiple GSW. Unknown LZ status. Recommend you use caution.

The location blipped onto my helmet HUD. Lake Park. Two clicks from the lake. Looks like a running trail. That’s what you get for trying to be healthy in public.

“Eta one minute,” came the voice of the pilot. His counterpart was spinning up the guns on the bus. Probably trying to most smile in anticipation of turning someone into pink miss and mush. Isaac and I get ready to swing out and secure the client before Wil and D get out.

“I’ve got eyes on the client, multiple people surrounding him, can’t ID there threat level,” this was the light and air voice of copilot. “Going to hold off on the cannon.”

There wasn’t a need for words at the point all was training. Pilot broadcast the last landing warning and as the hatch doors opened Isaac and I swung out.

Lake Park was as it suggested a park with a large lake around the center, with trails crisscrossing the area. HUD display said that the client was a male laying in the trail surrounded by people, most looking up to see the bus coming down. Out of the door while the dust kicks up, voice amplifiers in my helmet lift my voice about the engine sounds.

‘Stand aside!’ Weapon up scanning the small group of people. Several trip over themselves to get out of my way. Trauma Teams reputation proceeding it. I blink through different views, of my HUD. Scanning as I push past the client who was laying on his side clutching a wound in his stomach. I feel his hands on my leg as move past.

‘Secure Wil,’

‘Check,’ she was already out of the bus but now could give all her attention to the client. Knife wounds not gsw. An interesting classic move. Granted it’s hard to say what the blade was mounted on. Wil gets him stabilized and on the stretcher. D helps her haul him into the bus. Under 3 mins had passed.

‘Collapse in,’

I start to walk backwards still scanning as I go. It’s not unheard of for a TT to be attacked while loading and taking off. While not many groups had a grudge against us. Plenty had grudges with out clients.

I stop. Watching the bus from the trees. Techy samurai.

‘Eight o’clock, in the tree line’ blinks in my HUD highlight the samurai, zoom, scan, and log in the buses memory core. It says no weapons but I know it’s wrong. Any manner could be under the skin. I step into the bus, dropping my PDW and swinging up the door gun onto the samurai. If it was a hit we would have to roll out fast Incase he wanted to try to finish it before we could save him. After we cleared a few hundred feet I turned to look over my shoulder. Wil and D were working steadily, packing wounds and dressing them as needed. Plastic dressing suck around a chest wound keeping the pressure in his chest cavity stable.

It would possible to delve into his brain case and find it what happened when he got stabbed. That was more a matter for NCPD. Our job was only to keep him alive.

“Two mins from the pad,”

Air space around the hospitals is highly controlled giving special access to the TTI buses. Depending on the level of care that the subject we were carrying paid for. This one seemed to have went all the way to platinum. We streak into the pad at the trauma center the side hatch kicking open and Drs and nurses moving in to take the patient from Wil and D. Back bored to stretcher and they are running into the hospital. Wil is relaying all the information verbally to the Doc. They had a constant feed of vitals from the Bus but she never trusted them for final hand off.

It doesn’t take long before they are out and the bus is off the pad and back into the air. It’s frowned upon if the bus spends more time on the pad than in the air. Calls were tallied and time is money. We bank out hard over the packed and sprawling habitats of night city.

The alert hits again. Trauma of some type again. Client beacon went out after the first alert. Habitat tower.

“Hard hit,” Wil’s voice said into the comm link. Despite myself a smile came across my face because while most my job was simply to be the shield. Now I would get to be the hammer.

It’s an understood fact in Night City, get between a Trauma Team and there client, get picked up by the meat wagon. Not even the law, what little there is to speak of, interfered with our operations. Not that it was ever the cream of society crop that we mowed through like a threshing machine.

Now with a client deep inside a hab and what seemed like attempting to block any sign from that client was all the probable cause we required.

“Open up those windows please.” Even before I finish the sentence the guns of the bus had flicked out and spun up. My helmet dampening the deafening sound of the guns, and they searched and traversed around. A leap, and I’m crunching down on the remains of several floor to ceiling windows. Panning with my compact machine gun. Frightened tenants scurried away as my hud cycled through displays until it found the best logging targets, checking for weapons, and flashing the last known position of the client. Isaac slammed down behind me and we advanced. Slamming into the hallway that should connect the different rooms. The hab stacks were a hodgepodge of construction growing out with floods of people. Never able to know where it might go.

Through a perfumed bedroom, door left screams in a unknown language as Isaac and I crashed through their dinning room, shouldering through a weak partition wall in to another hallway.

“The damn TT!”

The scream came from the right, I turn brining my weapon up. The augmented ganger framed in my HUD. I see his gun coming up and squeeze the trigger. Anti-personal hollow point rounds spray out of the muzzle, the sound deadened by my helmet. The ganger jerking as the rounds smack into him. Squeezing off a second burst that hammers into the gangers face. They could have two of every organ and twice the muscles grafted on you. Only have one brain though. Most of the gangers’ was now running down the wall behind him, as we moved past. Breaking into the next space. There were more in this space. The signs of slum life everywhere, the people scattering away from me, I’m scanning as fast as I can. Time is tight. It always is. Three gangers had been sitting at a table. They are still trying to react. Even with arguments the element of surprise can be king. The rate of fire on my selected weapon, a vector smart gun is some what Ludacris, they find this fact out as I shred them with a long burst. They knock the table they sit at down as they fall to the floor. My hands are already half way though the mag change even before I notice the ammo corner blinking red.

Another group of the gangers come running into the the area. Just in time for them to meet Isaac, the machine gun roared to life with a slower but no less devastating rate of fire. They twisted as the rounds hit them falling to the ground in heaps. I stomped the skull of one while we passed as he tired weakly to raise his gun filled hand.

Through the door they came through, clock in my hud coming into 2 minutes from time of call. The new room looks like it will be the last. A dirty made up surgery ward. Good place to cut out the augments of less willing customers. With a thought his hud scanned through to the room, indicators cataloging