Friendship Heights

Jones, or as he was better known as Jo-En-Es, was guarding the entrance to their camp at Friendship Heights, walking back and forth, and he would be for the next hour to two until Susie came and took over for him. But it was not all bad, for he got to admire the Super Mutant corpse in front of him, the one he had managed to shoot it dead with only his hunting rifle without the help of his others. A rare feat for any human, minus a certain man. He smiled, heard the sound of iron grating on a floor, the gate below him had been opened, he moved over to where the dead Super Mutant lay and looked below from his lookout post. There was nothing, no human, no ghoul, no nothing. All was still. Then the sound again, the gate was closed. He scanned with his hunting rifle across the floor and the escalator that lead out of the Metro line into the station. Nothing. Silence. He gave one last look before he shrugged, re tuned to the gate and lit up a cigarette. He smiled a stupid smile at the corpse in front of him, shooting it, again, with his hunting rifle, only to be yelled at by Mack.

"Joe-En-Es!"

"Its Jones!"

"Yeah, whatever. Stop shooten' that corpse! Wer' runnen' out ov' ammo."

Jones, with a groan obliged,. While the band had no real leader, they accepted Mack as one. No one really bothered to take over from his anyway. He took a drag, thinking of all the things he would do to Mack if he was in charge. And then the corpse moved, its legs swung over the side of the rise, landing on the ground below with a thud. Jones cigarette dropped from his mouth in surprise and he moved over to inspect his fine handiwork, now fallen, crumpled on the ground. How? It had been safe only a few seconds ago. He what thinking of calling the others, but that's when he felt one hand grab him by the ankle and one by the shoulder and push him over the side. He fell with a crack and a scream.

Willy, one of the raiders, heard the scream and gestured the others over by running over to where Jo-En-Es had been only a second ago. Willy reached for his missile launcher and looked over the ledge, seeing Jo-en-es in an unnatural position. Both Mack and Susie, who had a baseball bat and SMG, respectively, came over as well.

"Hell, Joey!" Mack said.

"What the hell happened?" Susie asked

"He jump?" Said Willy

"Couldn' of, he look like 'e was thrown, how-" Both Susie and Mack instantly became aware of the huge lump the formed in Willy's pocket. Willy looked, Susie and Mack dived, Willy had only the time to get out only half of "Oh shit" before the lower part of his body was blown away in a gory mess. Both Susie and Mack looked in confused shock at the upper torso of Willy that remained. Susie was was about to cry, he was always better in the sack than Willy or Mack, but then she spotted a figure in black armor, not like those Brotherhood Assholes, or the Outcasts, but sleeker and with a orange face plate. He had in his hands a Chinese Assault Rifle. Susie raised her SMG at the same time the figure raised his rifle. The figure shot first. Mack, who now was the last Raider, closed the distance between him and the figure and was less than a meter away. The figure doted under the arc of the swing. It turned around, aimed his rifle again and got off a single three round burst. The bullets zoomed past Mack's ear, but he hit the rifle with his bat. It spun through the air and landed at the top of the escalator.

The Figure wasted no time and turned to face Mack in a fighting stance, with both arms up. Mack swung a rather weak blow at him, to which the Figure evaded easily. Mack swung again, to which the figure dodged and returned a punch. It had no real weight behind it, but struck fast, and flew the raider off balance. The figure grabbed the bat from Mack's hand and kicked him in the chest. Mack fell to his knees, coughed and put up his own fists, before a lighting blow from his bat spun him around. The bat was shattered now, smashed by Mack's head. The raiders head was spinning but he managed to get into a fighting stance. He saw the figure drop the shattered remains of the bat and charge at him. Mack had no formal training in hand to hand combat, but experience was always the best teacher. The figure, who clearly was running off only instinct, had no training in hand to hand combat. His charging blow was easily countered. The figure stumbled. He seemed dazed and confused but snapped back into action, putting his fists back up. Willy examined him. He was about 6" 1, holstered at his right leg was a silenced 10mm pistol and in a sheath near his neck on shoulder was a combat knife. It seemed odd to the Raider that he was actually fighting him with his fists, rather than just finishing him off with one of his other implements. He quickly realized who he was fighting, and that he was to die.

So he did toy with his prey before killing them!

"You 'da Lone Wanderer?" he asked. There came no reply. "I ain't gonna tell anyone kid, you're gonna' kill me anyway."

They started to circle one another.

The raider laughed "I didn't think ya'd be so quiet. Honestly, Three Dog's reports made you seem like a shining knight, but now... Could ya grant me a last wish, Wanderer? I want to see your face, before ya kill me, that is. See what we have been running from for the last ten months since you stepped out of that bleedin' Vault."

The Wandered stopped circling the raider, thought for a moment, then reached under the collar of his armor, removed the cowl with the orange face plate and threw it aside. His face was not unique in any aspect. His skin was deathly pale, contrasted by his black hair. Next to his left eye was his characteristic scar. Pampered Vault Asshole, no sign of the scars this world leaves on one, metaphorically speaking. Mack stepped forward and gave the Wanderer an uppercut, to which the Wanderer dodge swiftly. The Wanderer saw his opening and gave another swift punch directly to Mack's face. The raided stumbled back, allowing for another punch that broke the raiders nose. He stumbled back, feeling with his nose that would never re-heal. He looked at the Wanderer, who was advancing on him with another hit. It connected, he stumbled again and fell to his knees again. He looked down to the ground and, much to his glee, just to the left saw Susie's SMG, still clutched in her hand. If he could get to that, he might be able to kill, or at least injure the Wanderer. A broken nose would be little in comparison to being known as the one who killed the Wanderer. He saw the black figure approach him as his vision blurred. Maybe he could dive for the SMG. Fire wildly and hope it hit, but judging by what the Wanderer wore, along with his speed and reflexes an uncontrolled burst would not be enough. He was considering his options when he saw the black figure of the armored Wanderer approach him, one step at a time, until he stood directly in front of him. He arched his leg, most likely for a kick and Mack made his move. He jerked forward, throwing the Wanderer off balance onto his back. The Wanderer groaned as he hit the floor. Mack got up and took Susie's SMG from her fingers. He aimed at the Wanderer, who saw this, rolled and disappeared just as Mack opened fire. Mack wore a confused look and searched around. Did the Wanderer just disappear? How was that possible? A stealth boy? No, he didn't have enough time to react. It must have been that armor! He had heard Three Dog talk about it, it was Pre-War tech that granted invisibility. The bastard.

"Come out an' fight, ya' coward! Fight fair!" He yelled as he waved the SMG around. He searched fanatically, before felt the barrel of a 10mm pistol against the back of his head.

The Raider fell to the floor, dead by a a single 10mm round to the head. The Wanderer walked over to his rifle and shouldered it. He reached for his pack and pulled out a notebook and pen. He should know better than to trust raiders. He wrote:

Friendship Heights, Metro entrance.

RAIDERS, four.

Date: 23/5/2278

Co-ordinates: 38.957,-77.0837777778

Ammunition, Three 5.56 rounds, One 10mm round, one fragmentation grenade.

He slipped on the cowl and crouched.