2. truck

The raiding wasn't the hard thing. She wore no remorse for the drivers. Nor would they for her, if they knew, but she considered it beyond humane, they would never know what hit them. She didn't bother to live herself into their faith. 

The hard thing was keeping the loot safe and distribute it.  They never knew what they had until the back was ripped open. Frozen, perishable, furniture? Could be anything.

The art was to drop the block at the exact moment it crushed the cabin to wipe out the driver and all online communication on instant, but not damage the cargo.  

They had been seeing newer trucks, reinforced, but loads of drivers owaned their own truck, and an extra gun didn't help against the blocks. Guns provided by the O. 

She once overheard a guy defending them, saying "he knew one, in hunger, with a new-born" and the likes. She broke his nose and it wasn't even the guy. 

So, they had to be more picky. And they did, and their target was coming, so she felt her blood pumping. 

She heard the different checks - block-dropper, was the most important, double check. Distraction - in case something malfunctioned, they would stall to give a few moments. Communications&support. Technical. Hierarchy. 

She heard the different pre-check of the looting groups - including her own. 

She heard "t minust five, four, three, two, one...", a moment of silence and then from below a kind of "tump" as the cabin sunk. Driver was dead. Truck was stopped. 

Someone had fucked up, though. 

The block was about one meter into the cargo, it stood in a puddle of liquid that was pressed out by the block and gas was coming out. Something was amiss. 

"Retreat". And then everything blew up. On instant.  

 

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