The ride into Night City was smoother than expected — no patrols, no scanners, no problems.
Jackie tapped his fingers on the dash as they passed through Watson.
"Alright, listen. Gotta confess somethin'."
V raised an eyebrow.
"Go on."
"When Padre hooked me up with this gig — smuggling the lizard — I was supposed to rip you off. Take the creds, maybe dump the car."
V smiled. Not angry. Just amused.
"Wasn't fully honest with you either," V admitted. "My gear? High-grade military tech. I'm also a ripperdoc — specialize in compatibility tuning and chrome engineering. Let's just say I prefer to stay under the radar for now."
Jackie let out a breath, nodding slowly.
"You know what? I was wrong about you, ese."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Ripperdoc, chrome engineer — no wonder you had that car running in minutes."
V smirked.
"Didn't even pop the hood."
"Pfft. Sure. Bet you rebuilt the engine with psychic powers too."
They both laughed.
"Nah, for real — you got that 'seen some shit, done some more' kind of vibe. I can respect that."
Jackie pulled into a tight alley and parked. They were outside a low-lit bar with red neon on the windows and a soft ranchera playing inside.
"Come on," Jackie said. "My mom runs this place. You'll like her."
Inside, the air smelled like lime and cooked meat. The bar was old but warm — full of personality and ghosts.
"¡Mamá!" Jackie called out.
From behind the counter, Mama Welles appeared — strong, round, eyes sharp as a monowire.
She looked at V, squinted, then smiled.
"You brought a handsome one, mijo. This one's got a face that's alive."
"Mamá…"
"You hungry, V? You want tamales? You look like you eat."
V laughed.
"Sure, ma'am. I could eat."
He couldn't help but smile. Something about Mama Welles reminded him of his own grandmother — firm, warm, and never afraid to speak her mind. That kind of welcome hit deeper than he expected.
"Ma'am, he says. Ay, too polite. You call me Mama Welles."
V leaned back in the barstool, savoring the last bite of tamale.
"I need to get my own wheels," he said, wiping his hands. "That Galena's hanging by a thread. Need something tougher."
Jackie grinned. "Oh, you're gonna love this."
"What?"
"I know a guy. Muamar Reyes. Guy's a fixer, but his heart? All chrome and gasoline. Runs a lot behind Rancho Coronado. Guy sees a carburetor like it's a religion."
V raised an eyebrow. "Think he has something for someone like me?"
Jackie laughed. "Choombatta, if Muamar doesn't have it, it doesn't exist."
He tossed the napkin on the table and stood up.
"Come on. Let's get you something with teeth, cabrón."