Commissioner Fort had already come to an understanding with the local 6th Street boss. In a location they no longer intended to use, the gang deliberately left behind a cache of weapons and glitter, erasing all signs of 6th Street graffiti or insignia—a sort of "offering" to Commissioner Fort. In return, Fort planned to invite News54 to tag along and document the NCPD's "glorious" operation.
Of course, a proper show required more than just a stash of guns and glitter. To complete the performance, 6th Street also deliberately enlisted some naïve, fresh-off-the-street kids as cannon fodder—rookies who could barely fire a gun, let alone handle the mountains of glitter scattered around. The NCPD wouldn't face any real danger; by the time they barged in, those kids would likely be too spaced out to resist. As far as 6th Street was concerned, everything was set for a nice, drama-free raid.
Hence, Commissioner Fort assigned Connor and his team the barebones, entry-level police cruisers that a certain "Heavenly Sky" auto manufacturer provided. They were basic in every sense—cheap synthetic plastic and glass, flimsy bumpers, and body panels that seemed no sturdier than tofu. Despite all these shortcomings, Fort placed a large order anyway.
Why? Because they were cheap.
On top of that, Commissioner Fort specifically forbade Connor and the rest of the officers from carrying any firearms other than the Lexington. Even personal weapons were disallowed. It wasn't stupidity on Fort's part; it was all part of his bigger plan. The NCPD did have heavier gear and specialized armored vehicles, but using them would undermine the theatrics he wanted to stage. Outdated police cruisers and insufficient equipment sent a clear message to the citizens of Night City—and to Mayor Rhyne and Jefferson Peralez, who were both campaigning hard.
The message was simple:
> "Although the NCPD lacks funding, equipment, and personnel, and our officers risk their lives every day, we remain resolute in fighting crime. So, couldn't you spare more budget for us?"
With any luck, both Mayor Rhyne and Jefferson would scramble to promise increased NCPD funding if they won. That, in turn, would land more money in Commissioner Fort's pocket once the budget actually arrived. If anyone on the force had dared to ask, "But what if something goes wrong?" Fort would have likely shut them down with:
> "What could possibly go wrong? I said nothing will go wrong. Ask again, and you'll be the one who 'goes wrong' first!"
His plan truly seemed airtight, a perfect showcase of political maneuvering. He had carefully arranged everything from early morning onward, inviting the News54 crew, handing them a script, and sending Connor off at the head of this "raid." Everything unfolded exactly as intended…until it didn't.
Fort had accounted for everything—except one tiny detail. Because he spent his days in an air-conditioned office, commuting in his personal car, he had never personally set foot in any "high-risk" district labeled that way by the NCPD. He certainly hadn't driven the "Heavenly Sky" basic cruisers. In an effort to cut costs (and skim more eurodollars into his own wallet), Fort had purchased these vehicles at a price barely higher than a junker from the Badlands. Unsurprisingly, they were riddled with flaws. The biggest, most immediate one turned out to be a glitch in the navigation system of the lead patrol car, which steered them to the Eden Gang's stronghold instead of the carefully chosen 6th Street hideout.
…
"What now, sir?" one officer asked, worry evident in his voice.
Connor glanced around. Eden's members stood there like a pack of wolves, surrounding the NCPD vehicles with hostile, watchful eyes.
He beckoned one of his subordinates closer and spoke quietly, "Go tell the News54 crew to stop filming and get back in their van."
The officer looked baffled. "Just…tell them, straight up?"
"Right. Find whoever's in charge. They know the drill."
Barely had Connor finished speaking when a loud yell from another officer made him jump.
"Hey! I'm talking to you. Stay back!"
Turning, Connor saw one of his men pressing a Lexington to an Eden Gang member's forehead. Cold sweat beaded on Connor's temple. Are you trying to get us all killed? He rushed over in three strides, yanking the officer aside and shoving the gang member back into the crowd. Then he rounded on his subordinate.
"What the hell are you doing? Are you insane?"
"H-he kept staring at me. It was making me uncomfortable."
"This is the Eden Gang's turf, not City Hall! Are you trying to start a bloodbath?"
Night City's City Hall district was classified as "safe," with the best security around. But this was a very different place. A single accidental discharge would likely turn into a lethal standoff.
After scolding his subordinate, Connor turned and raised his voice to address the crowd of Eden foot soldiers still surrounding them.
"Calm down! Everyone, please calm down! Carry on with whatever you were doing. This doesn't involve you—it's just a misunderstanding."
The officers had been forced into a tight circle, fingers tense on the triggers of their Lexingtons. But those popguns offered little confidence compared to the heavier firepower Eden's men likely had.
"Connor, I have a really bad feeling about this," muttered another officer.
"It'll be fine, Hudson… We'll be fine…" Connor forced a note of conviction into his voice.
"Hey, sir, the News54 people are back in their van now. They said they'll follow our lead."
Relief washed over Connor, if only briefly. "Great. All right, everyone back into the cars and let's—"
He stopped mid-sentence when the main gate swung shut behind them. A thick blast-resistant door rose from beneath the ground, sealing the way out. The officer's faces fell, and nervous murmurs spread.
"Quick, call HQ. We need backup now!" Connor ordered, but the response from a nearby officer felt like ice water to the veins.
"I can't get through, sir. There must be a jammer."
The color drained from Connor's face. His team went pale in panic, and the News54 staff quickly realized they were stuck too. The gate was sealed, and calls out were jammed.
Gritting his teeth, Connor decided on a desperate measure—his last chance. He stepped forward, calling out to the menacing group closing in.
"Where is your 'Holy Father'? Joseph Seed, right? I need to speak with him."
Nobody answered. The Eden members around them kept their bloodthirsty gazes locked on the officers, like wolves eyeing cornered prey. Just when it seemed a fight was inevitable, a male voice echoed over loudspeakers mounted around the compound—carrying throughout every building in Eden's domain.
"Officer, I'm in the chapel, deeper inside. Why don't you come see me?"
With those words, the snarling gunmen finally lowered their weapons, albeit reluctantly, and stepped aside to form a path. Their predatory expressions didn't soften in the slightest.
The NCPD officers exchanged uneasy looks. At a silent nod from Connor, they also lowered their guns.