Bury me in Snow – Act 4: Blood Trails.
As he had suspected the area had been inhabited by super mutants. The dripping nets that hung filled with mangled bodies and the horrendous stench that came with them told Nick that they had lived here undisturbed for quite some time too. He frowned, unsure how to feel about this. On the one hand he felt temptation towards relief. That perhaps he really had just been letting imagination run wild back there and that Winter really did have nothing to do with this. On the other hand if that was the case then he had wasted nearly two days on chasing shadows and his partner was still being held captive by goodness knows who as he allowed himself to be distracted by groundless guesswork and fear.
He drew back from his hiding place overlooking the brewery before trouble could spot him and ventured back the way he'd come lighting up another cigarette and inhaling deeply. 'What now then?' he wondered. Did he snoop around a little more based upon his initial instinct or did he start from scratch returning to the scene of the crime? Hesitant footsteps took him backwards and through his pondering something caught his eye. "Hello," he greeted as he turned to inspect the shredded bit of plant life further. It lay there seemingly harmlessly and an absent thought probed the back of his mind as a reminder that even the most experienced detective can overlook things sometimes. Bloodleaf. Or at least part of one anyway. They were a common enough flower in the Commonwealth which is probably why he'd paid it no mind when he'd first walked by it but now that he was looking at it more closely he realised it served a far greater importance. The petal was shredded. It was recognisable but torn in an unnatural manner and where he stood, where the fragment lay, they were too far from water for the plant have grown nearby. Young Shaun had told him that this is what he and his missing mother had been gathering at the time of her kidnap. This was far too much of a coincidence. Nick felt another hunch build in his chest and sure enough a swift search of the area granted him another torn piece of the same plant and then another a couple of yards from that one. This was a trail. This was her way of speaking to him. Trusting him.
"Hang on partner," he spoke straightening his hat. "I'm coming for ya."
The last rays of sunlight where dwindling on the horizon by the time Nick reached the end of the trail. He crouched behind the remains of a wall as he scanned the area carefully. Guards where thin in number but still present. The building itself is one he'd never seen before but it looked like a warehouse. Possible it was used as a depot for Gwinnett products from the nearby factory in pre-war times guessing from the remains of large vans and wagons littering the broken and earth claimed ground. At first glance he might have thought they were Triggermen from Goodneighbour but another of Shaun's descriptions came to mind and the weapons they were carrying didn't match the favoured sub-machine guns of the Goodneighbour goons. One guard in particular caught his attention as he was seemingly relieved from duty by one of the others. "Interesting limp ya got there pal.." he commented to himself as the man who looked to be suffering some sort of knee injury made his way with difficulty back inside the building. This was it. This is where they must be holding her. Just a little longer and they'd be back home safe and sound he promised himself and his partner both in a silent prayer. Getting in unnoticed would be the difficult part.
The task was as familiar as it was dangerous. Nick kept close to the walls and the shadows, the dim light working to his advantage. His pistol was kept to hand but where he could he took out the guards from behind, using the grip to knock them unconscious. Studying habits and patrol patterns got him into the positions he needed and patience did most of the rest. It wasn't a fast way in but it was a method that wouldn't bring attention to himself and he feared that bringing attention to himself here could create a hostage situation rather than a prisoner situation. It'd be easier to break his partner out of there if they didn't have a gun held at her temple.
The warehouse was unfortunately large. He found the cellars and chose to search from the bottom up. From his experience no one ever chose to keep someone captive on the ground floor with a large open window handy.. It made hiding a lot harder but luck appeared to be on his side. Numbers really where thin and thanks to his partner teaching him some of their lock picking skills he was able to get through some of the quieter rooms. It became apparent where all the Gwinnett ale had been pilfered from and by the looks of things and from a few scattered files he found there where many other operations going on here too. Perhaps if his partner was up for it once he broke her out of whatever cell they had her in they could look around and try to figure out what those operations are. One way or another, this was a group that looked like it'd taken a recent hit in its activity progress and numbers but was trying to rebuild. He intended to put a stop to it before it could regain any foothold in the Commonwealth.
Another floor down and he started to find the heavier doors and fewer people. He frowned as his inbuilt geiger counter started crackling and ticking into life. Radiation, no wonder there where fewer guards down here. Reasoning it was a poor place to keep a captive prisoner he was about to turn around and try another area before a light caught his eye. He craned his neck to see where it was coming from and ahead he could see a terminal sat upon a battered old desk. He head on over, careful to disarm any traps he spotted along the way. Odd there should be so many on this stretch of corridor.. That didn't sit well with him and he double checked his gun to ensure it was ready for quick use. A room that must have been a walk in fridge or 'cold room' in its day stood at the end of the long walkway and, as he made a living off of idle curiosity, he took time to peer in through the window placed in the upper part of the door. His mechanical heart sank at the sight within there and his hand grasped and pulled at the handle in a horrified urgency. It was her, she was in there. He cursed as the door refused to budge and looked to the window again. The sound had caught her attention and she looked up to see who had come to torment her now. He didn't like the sluggishness of her movements nor the manner in which she was curled in the back corner. Her eyes, even from this distance, looked red and tired and the sickly tone of her skin spoke volumes. They'd left her down here in this irradiated cell with no more than a dog bowl of water! His fury knew no bounds but for now he swallowed it in favour of the sense he'd need to try and break her out.
Turning he moved to the computer terminal. If there wasn't a key nearby maybe it worked on an automated lock. His concentration had never been sharper as he shifted through the decoding process of hacking the terminal as delicately as one might attempt to defuse a bomb. He heard the satisfying bleep of the machine which granted him access to the functions and records stored upon it. There was no time to read through the data right now though, he opened the door to the now holding cell and strode into it kneeling at his partner's side. She smiled weakly at him, a joke managing to meet the faint expression in greeting. "Did you stop for groceries on your way here?" she teased and it pained him to hear just how fragile her voice had become.
He chuckled gently in return lifting her to his arms. "Yeah. Had to collect a few vegetables." If anything else was to leave his lips it was soon forgotten as the heavy door swung shut of its own accord. Panic filled him and with his partner still in his arms he moved swiftly over to press heavily on the release button but to no avail. The door had been tampered with so it couldn't be opened from the inside. "Dammit!" he cursed, his voice rising to frustration. Somewhere above his head he heard a speaker buzz into life and the cruel laughter of a successful predator mocked him.
"Welcome Mr Valentine," the gravely yet feminine voice greeted him coyly. "I was hoping you would join us."
"What?" the detective uttered, mostly to himself. His mind raced to catch up with his situation. They were trapped but he would work on that. For now the why's and who's where the important features. "Whadda'ya want?" he demanded to the unseen captor.
"To the point, I like that. Simply put, I want you to suffer," responded the voice coldly taking on a harder tone as it continued. "You killed my husband and I will destroy you for it."
"Your husband?" Nick repeated once again trying to use this new information to link together what he thought he already knew. It was the fading voice of his partner that gave him the answer.
"Claire?" they wondered aloud, disbelief as evident on her sickly features as it was in his own chest.
Claire.. He'd never even stopped to entertain the possibility. He remembered now the holotape his partner had picked up in Eddie's bunker the year previous. But at the time the absence of anyone else there and the fact it had been left on the side had him believing that she'd either passed away of old age through the two hundred years since they were both sealed in there or else that she had arrived, taken one look at his ghoulified features and fled from his sight forever more. It hadn't even occurred to him the possibility that she may somehow still be alive. A ghoul herself even! Hell, he didn't ever entertain the thought that Eddie Winter was either capable or deserving of that loyal of affection. "Claire…" he repeated himself, the word nothing more than a sound on the edge of his breath.
"Seems you got there in the end. I guess you aren't as poor a detective as I had you pinned for after all," the harsh voice quipped.
"Alright Claire, you got me," Nick commented in resignation. Now to try and work through some tough negotiation. "Just.. let this lady here go and we'll work this through." He was careful about his wording. It seemed this 'Mrs Winter' had done her homework on who to nab and how but he still didn't want to avoid the even minor chance that he could convince her that she was just an innocent bystander in all of this and that her part was now over.
Sickeningly the laugh returned. That laugh that held no real humour but all the bitterness a heart could hold. "Oh no, I think I would much prefer her to stay. After all, if it weren't for that little cow there I would still have my own partner at my side. No. I think she should stay. Hopefully she's enjoying the little rad shower I set up for her. If I'm lucky she'll turn into a ghoul and can stay at the party a little longer. If not, well.. You're an expert at handling loss now. I'm sure you have a few choice goodbyes you can utter."
He doesn't swear very often but the name he called out angrily to the now mockingly silent speakers was colourful to say the least. He sank down back against the wall, his partner held to him. He had to think up a way out of here… perhaps there was a panel he could remove and use the wiring to.. do .. something? Damn! Do, anything! There had to be a way. He was a synth, he could stay down here indefinitely if left to it, though he suspected the boredom would eventually rot his circuits before time did. His partner on the other hand.. He looked down cradling them close to him. "Don't you worry kid…" he spoke to them. "I'll find us a way out of here you just- .. you just hang in there."
Her eyes looked like they were heavy to keep open but she regarded him with a sad fondness. "I'm sorry.." she uttered knowing without the words shared what was running through his mind right now and it made his heart ache all the more.
"Don't be," he persisted. "I'm bustin' us out of here. So don't you go quittin' on me yet!"