John Shirley - Watch Dogs - Dark Clouds

“What!” Winters yelled. “Why you treacherous Irish son of a bitch!”

“But I’ve got you and Winters both, right there, Quinn! Your old man gave me no choice! He had to go. You could have left it alone, Niall. But what did you do? You tried to have me killed! I do not approve. I officially object to it, when people try to have me killed. I have to make sure you don’t try it again.”

The truck was now backing up—though it had no driver.

Quinn’s mouth was very, very dry. “That truck! Pearce… You got some control over that truck?”

“I do,” Pearce said cheerfully. “ Nothing as fancy as a self driving car. I simply planted a remote control unit steering and acceleration unit in it… and I’m operating it from here… I’m just backing it up to get a good run!”

“Jesus!” Quinn said, as he realized what Pearce had in mind. “ Okay, fine! How much money do you want?”

“I don’t want money. I want to get rid of people who try to have me killed, Quinn. And that is priceless.”

The truck stopped backing up, a little more than two blocks away. Quinn could see smoke gushing from its steel exhaust chimney as it revved its motor.

“Pearce! I’ll… I’ll tell you what I’ll do! I’ll turn everything I own over to you! I’ll… Pearce, don’t do this!”

But the truck began moving forward. Faster. And faster. Picking up speed and momentum. Coming full bore at the train car.

Niall Quinn turned, looked around desperately, then ran and got behind the chairs bolted to the floor. He found Winters already there, crouching down. They looked into each other’s frightened eyes…

And then the semitruck impacted the train car.

Quinn’s special train car was armored against grenade blasts, and high caliber bullets. But not against a semitruck pulling a load of scrap metal at full speed.

Aiden Pearce sat in his borrowed Porsche and watched, as the semitruck smashed into Quinn’s car, crushing its way into it, shattering everything inside the train car…

And then the semitruck’s gas tank exploded. He sat there, watching it all burn.

He twitched and reached for his gun as someone rapped on the glass of his driver’s side window.

But then he relaxed. It was Blank.

Pearce rolled down the window. “How’d you find me?”

“I was staying with some hobos in the train yards, back there,” Blank said. “Saw you drive up. Didn’t seem to be a driver in that semi. Big nasty crash. Must’ve been your work.”

Pearce shrugged. He had few secrets from Blank. “Niall Quinn was in that train car. Along with Marlon Winters.”

Blank nodded. His burned, disfigured mouth twisted into its rude semblance of a smile. “Very thorough job. No one’s coming out of that alive.”

“No. That’d be my guess. Cops will be here soon. I’m outta here. You want a ride somewhere?”

“Don’t get a chance to ride in a Porsche much. Sure. I’m going over to the foodbank.”

He walked around the Porsche, climbed in beside Pearce.

They drove back toward downtown. Police cars raced past them, on the way to the scene of the wreck. None of the cops glanced at the Porsche.

“You know, Blank, you don’t have to go to the foodbank. I give you money. I’ll give you some more.”

“I don’t go there to eat. I go there to volunteer. I carry boxes.”

Pearce nodded, impressed. “I’ve been thinking about something, Blank. You realize I know who you are, don’t you?”

Blank didn’t answer.

Pearce said. “Well, I do. I had to know. Safer to know. But Blank—don’t you think it’d be good if Wolfe knew?”

Blank shook his head. “No. Not… yet.”

“Blank—the guy thinks his father’s dead. You got out of that fire, you survived, you should have your son take care of you. He’d like to know you were alive, at least.”

“I… don’t want him to know I’m his father. I’d rather he thought of me the way I was…”

Aiden Pearce shook his head. “I think he should know. And I think you’ll change your mind.”

“Maybe. I’m not ready yet.”

“You know he’s getting married?”

“No. That’s good. God bless her. Fine girl.”

“Okay. Here’s the food bank.” Pearce pulled up at the curb. “You need some cash?”

“Not just now. You promise—you won’t tell him?”

“I won’t tell him, till you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Pearce. Keep your head down.”

“Always do.”

Blank got out. Pearce watched him walk up to the food bank’s alley door.

Then Pearce’s phone rang. He answered it.

“Pearce?”

“Yeah.”

“T-Bone.”

“I recognize your voice, filtered through all that beard. What’s up?”

“Trouble. Stuff we might have to deal with together…”

“Okay,” Pearce said. “I’m gonna ditch this car. I’ll call you from my safehouse.”

He ended the call, and drove off.

As he went, a ctOS camera tracked the car.

Stolen car , the system reported.

But by the time the police found it, ditched in the South Side—Aiden Pearce was no longer there. He was nowhere to be found.

Watch Dogs™ //n/Dark Clouds is produced, edited and published by Ubisoft Entertainment SA

28 rue Armand Carrel – 93108 Montreuil-sous-Bois – France

Writer: John Shirley

©2014 Ubisoft Entertainment. All Rights Reserved. Watch Dogs, Ubisoft and the Ubisoft logo are trademarks of Ubisoft Entertainment in the U.S. and/or other countries

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever

First published as an eBook by Ubisoft Entertainment S.A. in May, 2014

ISBN: 979-10-93157-00-9

All characters, names, places, and incidents in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental

The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers