Captain Winters

A Fallout Series

Chapter 4

Enclave Captivity

I had fought them before, and I would fight them again. They were scattered after the war, but recently they had been fighting harder and with better formation. I could only assume they had established a Headquarters and were training for another assault on DC. That would mean bad news for everybody, including the Washington Army. They would roll in and take the Mall first, it was only logical. However, I doubted they would be successful. The Super Mutants controlled any building that wasn't filled with Ghouls. In-fact, I think the only building within the Mall that was still safe, was the Museum of National History. That place was filled with Ghouls who hadn't lost their minds, but if you wondered into the buildings archives, you could find plenty of those too. The Enclave would have to be pretty damn strong if they wanted to take DC, and I would die fighting if they attacked, even if I was alone while doing it.

"What do we do?" Whispered Cheyenne as the Enclave squad came closer with each passing second.

"You get those kids out of here while I distract them." I ordered while still staring down my scope. "Take the guns, but leave me a few magazines. I'l hold them off until you guys are out of here, then I'l run too." I was lying, and Cheyenne knew it. This was another suicide mission for me, like the one I tried to setup in Paradise Falls.

Cheyenne didn't say a word, she simply got to her feet and ran into the main room. I could hear everybody quietly running about, collecting some spare food they had found, and running out the entrance.

The Enclave were about 100 yards away now, and I knew if I shot the Officer, they would have a difficult time coordinating an attack plan. I'm sure this was a recon squad; they probably heard the shots and came to investigate. What they didn't know, was they were dealing with the only man who hated them more than the brotherhood of steel; me.

I fired the first shot. The blast of my rifle cut the silence of the night in half like a knife through butter, and suddenly bullets were flying everywhere.

I tried to keep my calm as bullets were penetrating the walls around me, missing me by no more than a few inches as I looked down my scope again. I saw a body in the dirt; a heavily armored man who was now leaning against a rock and shooting in my direction. It wasn't the Officer, and he wasn't dead.

I heard commands being called out, as I frantically tried to locate the other squad members with my scope, but it proved to be easier said then done, for they were concealed nicely. They had been trained well, but I was better. I followed the flashes of light from the barrels of their guns, and instead of locating the men themselves, I aimed directly into the center of the flash, and fired. I heard the sound of metal, smashing against the dirt as another soldier had fallen.

I returned my glance to the first man I had shot. He wasn't moving anymore.

"The bigger they are-" I started as I began searching for the other members of the Enclave squad.

Without a passing second, the night became very quiet again. The silence was almost disturbing, and I could only assume they were putting a plan together. I looked over my shoulder, to see the walls behind me had been riddled with bullet-holes.

When I turned back to my rifle, I came eye-to-eye with an Enclave Officer. He had lifted himself up onto the wall, and he seemed overjoyed with the idea of capturing a member of the Washington Army, for he smiled at me, and finished my sentence. "The harder they fall."

The butt of an assault rifle smashed into my forehead and I lost consciousness. I was being captured by the Enclave, and I wasn't even awake to see it happen.

As they dragged my limp body through the dirt, alongside the 2 men I had shot, I looked back to the Relay Station. In the darkness, I could see the faint silhouette of a woman, who was looking down the sights of a Hunting Rifle. For a moment, I was relieved. Due to my faded mental state, in that moment, I assumed she was going to shoot me, therefore eliminating any leverage that belonged to the Enclave, but as I woke, and began to recover my thoughts, I realized I had not trained this woman to do that. In the Washington Army, that is our code; nobody is taken prisoner, ever.

I assumed it was Cheyenne, and I assumed she was trying to see if I was alive or not. I simply closed my eyes and allowed the Enclave to drag me along, for if she saw me moving, she would come after me. I couldn't let anybody die for me, and certainly not any of the people I had saved from Paradise Falls. They deserved a better life, and what would be the point of leaving, if they died trying to save me?

I lost consciousness again, and although I knew I was being dragged a camp, where they would undoubtedly torture me, and eventually kill me, the night air felt good on my bruised face, and everything seemed peaceful. I can't remember if I passed out, or fell asleep. I was calm, and knowing I had saved the slaves from Paradise Falls, I was at peace with the idea of dying. I had served a purpose, and I was ready.

When I awoke, I was in a dark room, tied to a chair. I could see cracks of light around the room, and determined I was in some kind of storage container. The Enclave had been known to use old storage crates to hold Prisoners, ammo, even Deathclaws, who had a chip planted in their brain, causing them to kill anything but Enclave on sight.

I looked around the crate, waiting for an Enclave Officer to enter at any moment and beat me senselessly. I spotted a red light in the upper right-hand corner of the crate, and realized they were watching me with a security camera. This troubled me, 'Why would they watch me from outside the crate?'

I realized why, when I heard a low growl behind me. I was with a Deathclaw, and even worse, I couldn't see it.

"Enjoying yourself?" Asked a voice from an intercom system, that had been programmed in the crate.

I looked at the small red light, and responded, "I haven't had this much fun since the war."

Although the thought of dying didn't exactly scare me, the thought of being torn to shreds by a Deathclaw certainly didn't seem pleasant. I had been tortured during the war, but this was something new. This was mental torture.

"I'm glad to know we could bring some excitement into your life Captain." Responded the voice. This was obviously the Officer, who's two men I had killed. I figured I could at least piss him off before I was torn to shreds.

"There is a Deathclaw, in a cage behind you. Either you tell us what we want to know, or I will personally flip a switch, that opens that cage, and Captain, my Deathclaw does not like fake patriots."

Funny he should call the Washington Army 'Fake Patriots,' when that's exactly what the Enclave are. They think we are protectors of a corrupt system, when in reality, we are protectors of the real system. The Enclave started as a bunch of lower-class jackasses with guns, who wanted a new America. I really hated ever one of them.

"If he hates fake Patriots, what is he doing with the Enclave?" I asked the camera.

I could hear the Officer laughing over the intercom. The cage behind me started to open, but only for a second. I knew what he was doing; he was going to open the cage bit by bit. He wanted to intimidate me, and he was doing a damn good job at it. However; there was no way in hell I was going to entertain him, even in the slightest. I planned to irritate him to a point where he flipped that switch all the way up, and unleashed that monster out of pure hatred for me. I wasn't going to kiss his ass when trying to save my own. Fuck him.

"Captain, I'l make you a deal." He started.

"Fuck your deal." I replied, cutting him off.

"Now Captain, is that any way to talk to your superiors?" He asked. He was now speaking to me like some sort of child, and quite frankly, I didn't appreciate that.

"Superiors?" I asked, chuckling. "Sir, I've dropped pieces of shit that were more superior than you." I replied.

The Cage behind me slid open slowly, then stopped. I could hear the Deathclaw, reaching for me by now. His lengthy arms, with the razor claws could just about grab me. I figured one more good insult, and I would be counted as a nutritious breakfast snack for the hungry bastard.

"My deal for you, Captain..." Started the Enclave Officer. "Just tell me where the new Headquarters for the Washington Army is located, and we'l let you go."

I laughed for a few moments, as if he had just told the joke of the century.

"Is something funny?" Asked the Enclave Officer. His tone had dropped to a serious one, which told me he was on the edge.

I actually enjoyed knowing that even in the face of death, I would be able to break the arrogant mind of the enemy.

"You really think i'm going to tell you?" I asked him, still recovering from my laughing fit. The truth was; we had no Headquarters. We literally had no base of operations whatsoever. Sure, we had a small bar out in the Wasteland, which contained a secret room, where anyone who still wore the uniform, could get a hot meal and a decent bed, but a Headquarters? He was giving us too much credit.

"Captain, I don't appreciate you insulting me like this." Replied the Officer. "You murdered two of my men last night. I would have already shot you, had I not thought I could get some valuable information out of that thick skull of yours."

"Well, it looks like you should have shot me then." I replied.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the back of the chair. In that final moment, where I was ready for those cage doors to swing open, and unleash the mutated creature that would tear me to shreds, I thought of Cheyenne. I'm not exactly sure what happened next, but as I could hear the cage doors start to slide open, a rapid chain of gunshots went off, about 25 yards away from the crate. My eyes shot open, as the cage suddenly stopped sliding open, and the Deathclaw struggled against the cage doors, reaching out for me. Over the intercom I could hear the Officer barking orders, until I heard another chain of shots, and he was silent. I looked around the dark cage, looking for any way out, until the doors of the crate flew open.

I winced from the sudden brightness, as I heard footsteps running through the crate, toward me. Suddenly, 2 people grabbed the chair I was in, and lifted it, running me outside.

I tried to open my eyes as we ran into the hot air of the Capital Wasteland, as bullets whirred by my head with every step they took. Then one of them tripped, and I fell, face-first, into the dirt. The chair broke when I fell, and I easily maneuvered out of the ropes as I re-gained my vision. I looked to my side, to see the 2 men who had grabbed me, were Enclave soldiers. They were not wearing armor, so I could only assume we were on a base, or in a stationary camp.

One of them scrambled to his feet, and was greeted with a bullet to the face. His blood painted the ground behind him, and he fell hard. The other one, grabbed me by the collar, as he pulled my 44' Magnum from his pistol holster, and began firing at the oppressors. At the time, I had no idea who was assaulting the Enclave camp, but I sure as hell wasn't going to make it out of that crate, to die by the hands of the clumsy bastard who was trying to drag me through the dirt.

I pulled the concealed knife I kept hidden in my boot, and stabbed him in the leg. He fell forward, and my gun dropped to the ground as he howled in pain. Before he could do anything about it, I pulled him down onto me, and slammed my knife into his chest. His blood sprayed me down like a hose, soaking my face and neck, but I didn't retract my knife, until I was certain he had stopped twitching.

I rolled him off of me, and slid my knife back in my boot, as I reached out, and grabbed my 44. I popped open the cylinder to see 2 bullets had been fired. I quickly closed it, and jumped to my feet, looking for a spot where I could take cover, when suddenly, the gunfire stopped as a voice screamed out "Hold your fire!"

I looked over in the direction from where the voice had come, to see someone stand from a small trench and look at me. It was Cheyenne.

Cheyenne had brought the entire slave group, including the kids, armed to the teeth, to rescue me. I wasn't entirely surprised that they had come, but I was surprised at their technique. This group of slaves had executed a perfect ambush, better than most military units could ever try to compete with.

I walked toward her as the rest of the slave group stood from the small trench, which surrounded the Enclave camp. I could tell the trench was some sort of drainage system, which had obviously backfired.

Cheyenne jogged over to me, with a Chinese Assault Rifle dangling from a strap around her shoulder.

"How did you find me?" I asked as I wiped the blood from my face.

Before she answered me, she hugged me, and held onto me for a long time. "I thought we'd lost you." She said with a relieved tone in her voice.

"No," I replied. "I'm still here."

"I followed you, I wanted to know if they had killed you last night." She said as she stepped back. "I saw them put you in that crate, and I figured you must still be alive since they didn't put you with the other 2 bodies."

It made sense, but I was still curious how she attacked the base with such precision. I looked around and saw the small control room where the intercom had been. It had practically been cut in half by bullets, and the armed guards outside were crumpled up against the walls.

"Who trained you to execute a plan like that?" I asked with a hint of suspicion.

She looked at me as if I was joking. "I only did all the logical things." She replied, pointing to the trench. "I had everybody laying down in the trenches, and we took out the command post first." She pointed at the building where the Officer had been. "We fired on the small building with the most guards, because I figured that's where the most important people were." She turned to the crate, where I had been held. "Then, when they grabbed you, we took them out and that was it."

I thought about it for a minute, and realized she was right. It was quite simple, anyone with an educated mind could figure that out.

"Thank you." I said as I looked at the group behind her.

I turned around to the body, of the man I had just stabbed, I knelt down and turned him over, checking his ammo belt for grenades. I found 2, and put one of them in my jacket pocket, as I crossed back to the crate. I peered in, and saw the faint outline of the beast, that was so close to ripping me open.

"Sorry buddy." I said sarcastically, as I pulled the pin on a grenade, and rolled it into the cage. I closed the doors on the container, just as the explosion blew a hole in the side of it. The remains of my Deathclaw friend scattered the dirt around the hole, leaving me with the easy assumption, that he had met his demise.

"What was that?" Asked Cheyenne as she walked up to me from the group.

"Deathclaw." I responded as I walked past her. I smiled because I could only imagine her facial expression, thinking of me spending an entire night in a crate with a Deathclaw. I hadn't told her that it was caged, and for the sake of an adventurous mind, I wouldn't.

The group had already started collecting ammunition and weapons off the dead solders. As they did, I crossed to the Command center, and opened the riddled door.

I looked down at the bodies sprawled across the floor. 2 Soldiers and an officer, the one I had tried to shoot last night. He was an older man, in his late fifties I assumed. It looked like he had run this squad since the war, or maybe even before that. The Enclave was rather stingy about accepting newcomers, especially ones as old as this man. For a brief moment, I felt bad for them. Although they had the wrong reasons, they were fighting for what they believed in. Then I remembered they had stuck me in a room with a brutal mutant of the Wasteland, and I didn't feel so bad anymore. The Washington Army was never big on torture; if we captured, we would either kill the subject, or let them go.

I leaned down and reached inside the officers bloodstained shirt, and grabbed his dog-tags. I shoved them in my pocket and collected the weapons among the room. I gave him one last glance before I closed the door, and left the Command Center.

The group was silent as I approached and dropped the guns I had collected, into a pile on the ground. Cheyenne stared at our new arsenal, and asked, "We can't carry all of those across the wasteland. It'l kill us."

I pondered for a few moments, questioning how we could sell the guns. I would leave them, but I was never a fan of giving up a few thousand caps. There was 5,000 caps worth of guns at my feet, so I figured I was going to end up loosing some of that.

I looked at one of the kids, "Do you think they could use these in Little Lamplight?" I asked.

The kid looked at me for a few seconds, before silently nodding.

I looked back to Cheyenne, "We'l take what we can carry, but anything we can't, we'l give to the kids in Little Lamplight. I'm sure they could put them to better use than we could."

Cheyenne nodded as she looked to the group and said, "Everybody grab 2 guns. One to sling over your shoulder, and one to hold."

As she said it, the group slowly made their way forward, and collected the guns. By the time they did, we had about 6 left over, and I grabbed an Assault Rifle, and a Hunting Rifle.

I looked toward the hill where Little Lamplight was located, then I looked at the sun. I could tell it was about 11:00 in the morning, so we could easily make it to the camp by noon.

"Let's move out." I called out to the group, as I began walking toward the hill.

Cheyenne was quick to come to my side as we began to make our way up the dirt incline, and toward the kids refuge.

"I'm glad you made it." She said to me, still looking forward.

I looked over at her as we walked and nodded. I was glad I cam out alive, but I still felt like she should have left me. She put every person in that group at risk, and had a single one of them died for me, I may have ended my term as leader, right then and there. I couldn't live with that; knowing an innocent person had died, trying to save my life, after I had saved theirs. If they were killed, all of this would have been for nothing.

We began to pass empty trailers and campers. We were passing though an old campground, and I looked ahead to see an old prewar sign, that stated 'Welcome to Little Lamplight.'

"We made it." Said Cheyenne, as she jogged past me, getting a better look at the sign.

Some of the kids approached me, and one of them stepped forward. "We can make it from here mister." Said the young man, as he reached his hand out to shake mine.

I took his hand in mine and shook it firmly, and without a word, the pack of them walked past the sign, and approached an old Fire Tower.

I watched as a young boy climbed down the ladder, and opened a door, which led into an old mine shaft. The group of them walked through the doorway, and disappeared into the dark mine.

I turned back to the three women that remained, and looked them up and down. They still were wearing fur coats and slippers, so I figured it was time we found them some proper armor. They were armed now, but in a firefight, some decent leather can save your life; even if you are carrying a rocket-launcher.

"Let's head back down to the Enclave Camp," I started, looking at Cheyenne. "We need to find some armor that isn't marked with the Enclave emblem."

I began to make my way down the hill and they quietly followed. I could only hope to come across some decent clothing for them, otherwise we may not make it to Rivet City.

"How long before we get to the ship?" asked one of the women behind me.

"A few weeks." I replied, not looking back.

I could hear the disappointment in her sigh, and I didn't blame her. A few solid weeks of walking would not sound like much fun to me if I had been stuck in one room for a few years.

"A few weeks and you'l be sleeping in a nice bed, with 3 hot meals per day." I said as I tried to boost her spirits.

Cheyenne grabbed my shoulder firmly as walked through the camp-sight, and whispered, "Do we have to worry about that?" As she pointed toward a camper, about 30 yards away.

I followed her gaze and dropped to my knee, aiming down the sight on my rifle. I adjusted the scope and the camper came into clear vision.

There were three of them that I could see. One had a 'Super Sledge,' dragging along by his side as he walked around. The other was holding a Hunting Rifle, which seemed like a small toy in his hands. He sat on an old log, in front of a campfire as some small critter roasted over the open flame.

The third held an old, prewar Combat Shotgun. I had used one for crowd control before, when I was storming through DC with a squad of men. The point of that gun, was to fire into a crowd of your enemies, and be able to clear your way through them with ease. Basically, it was one of the most destructive weapons I had ever had my hands on.

"What are they?" Asked Cheyenne.

I never took my eyes off the scope, I just quietly replied, "Super Mutants."