"Don't rush about the ice, I haven't finished."
Li Qingyu's shout from the vox interrupted the lieutenant's grand reflections.
"I've decided to make something of myself in the Underhive, I need fighters. Will you lend me a couple of your sharpshooters?"
Li Qingyu laid out his plan to attack the Fertilizer gang. Rudouson had a nervous breakdown.
"Your mother! Have you lost your fear?! You want me to send regular soldiers into a gang war?!"
Li Qingyu hissed:
"Quiet! Do you want everyone to hear? I'm not asking for a battalion. Give me thirteen specialists – the Chimera's crew and two stubber teams."
Earlier, he had consulted with Little Joel: to operate the Chimera, three people were needed – the turret gunner (who was also the commander and auspex operator), the driver, and the hull-mounted stubber gunner.
A stubber team required five people: a gunner, an observer, a loader, and two ammunition carriers, who also served as transporters.
A heavy stubber could be carried in two ways. The first – disassembled into components and carried on the back. The second – on a wheeled carriage: one person rolled the machine gun, quickly changing positions.
When Lieutenant Winchester stormed the rebel camp, the terrain didn't allow for wheels, and two carriages were left in the truck. Later, while sorting through the spoils, Li Qingyu found them.
The wheeled carriage was ideal for the Underhive, where everything was hard ferrocrete. You could move around like a madman on wheels.
Among Li's thugs, there were no specialists. They could carry rifles, but entrusting them with armored vehicles or stubbers was a lost cause. That's why he turned to Rudouson.
"Brother, I only need thirteen people. You have a huge force: if a dozen fighters end up in the infirmary, no one will notice. Each will get fifty thousand bonus! For our wine business – you won't refuse, will you?"
Rudouson hesitated:
"What if someone gets killed?"
Li Qingyu lowered his voice:
"If they die – a hundred thousand to the family, I'll pay. While I'm fighting down here, organize a fake raid on the rebels. You can write off the losses to them. No one will check.
Seeing that everything was thought out, Rudouson agreed:
"Alright. I'll look. The crew and two teams – we'll see who wants to earn some extra money."
Putting aside the vox, Li Qingyu felt a surge of confidence.
Let the Fertilizers have a crowd, but he was betting on firepower!
A 'Chimera' APC, two heavy stubbers, two lasguns, and a bunch of autoguns. Would this rabble really stand firm?
This was the first step of his expansion into the Underhive. But the world was treacherous: while he was planning an attack, the enemy decided to make the first move – to probe the distillery.
In the morning, there was a banging on the iron door of the shelter. Li Qingyu opened it – an alarmed Joel.
"Boss, trouble! The passage to the distillery is blocked by people! It's unclear what they want!"
Li Qingyu's heart sank. Putting on his armor and grabbing a lasgun, he rushed to the tunnel leading to the workshop.
The approaches to the distillery from both sides were blocked by half-meter walls with massive gates. In them were embrasures: a heavy stubber behind one, and you could shoot a hand-held weapon through the other.
The embrasures were closed by armored shutters with viewing slits. Li Qingyu opened one slightly and peeked out.
The tunnel was teeming with people. In makeshift armor made of scrap metal, with scrap weapons, torches, and lamps, they crowded, craning their necks. At first glance – Underhive rats. But why in a pack?
The crowd was endless, over a thousand, and that was only from one side.
Li Qingyu squinted. Seeing how they devoured the wall with their eyes, he understood everything.
After expanding the distillery, everyone decided: he had a lot of money. Gangs wouldn't leave him alone.
They must have spread rumors that there was something to be gained here – and so the rats gathered to try their luck. They crammed into the tunnel like sardines in a barrel.
Realizing the situation, Li Qingyu grinned. Under Joel's gaze, he jumped to the heavy stubber, grabbed the bolt handle, and pulled.
CLANG – a 20-millimeter round entered the barrel. Li Qingyu squeezed the trigger.
DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA!!