The road had long since cracked and ripped apart and as the Wanderer paced down the pavement, he noted the numerous vehicles that had once been driven by the people of the by-gone Pre-War era with envy. How much shorter his travels would be if these rusted behemoths still functioned! How useful they would be in saving him so much time! But he was no fool. He had absolutely no knowledge on how to restore such a marvel, and any of the people that did were usually more focused on other things. Ways to improve survival as opposed to ways of making things more convenient.

But as he and Clover crested a hill, he saw a shining monolith housing those that would not be opposed to such convenient and luxurious means of travel if it were afforded to them. Provided they ever left their secure home. He'd been here before on another occasion, one of his first tastes of a mercenary life when he'd been hired to put down some unwanted would-be tenants to the tower. He remembered it clearly, stumbling in his unfamiliar body- it had been very recent after he was treated with the fire ant hormone which had granted his body its increased size and strength- deep into the Warrington station. He was sure that his pass into the tower of the rich and cowardly of the wastes would not have expired, considering his 'service' to them.

The task that had once seemed a monument for him to climb- wading into a dark, derelict train station filled with feral ghouls and some of their more sentient cousins- now seemed small to him, considering some of the other tasks he'd completed. He glanced over to Clover momentarily who, despite walking at his side with his arm comfortably around her shoulders, seemed distracted. He frowned down at her and followed her gaze to the horizon. And promptly ceased all of movements.

That cold presence in the back of his mind was stirring, and if he wasn't mistaken it was laced with a feeling unease. So different from the cool, calm certainty and almost mocking feelings that often emanated from it. There was something out there. Something different, and yet familiar. He'd not felt this way since...

But, no. He wouldn't be there. He knew that man would be in the Tower, likely watching him from the moment he entered and calculating his every move. Mister Burke was possessed he believed of the same Presence he himself was blessed with. And when he'd first encountered the man, the Wanderer's presence had yet been in its infantile stages, barely spreading dark wings to brush those shadowy parts of his mind that had allowed him to survive in this craptastic world.

"Interesting," he muttered from beneath his breath. It would seem that his and Burke's Presences were not the only ones out here in this Capitol Wasteland. He wondered idly what this other Presence was, and where the one it was attached to lingered. "Keep your weapon ready, Clover. I want to be ready."

The woman nodded vaguely and continued staring out over the horizon. It was surprising to him that she'd noticed something before him. But...

Weren't those living in a semi-state of sanity blessed with a more abstract thought process than others? So in all, he supposed it would make sense that she'd notice something out of the ordinary before him. He was rightly and Americanly grounded in sanity, whereas his little pet... At least she was competent with her gun and sword.

Ling lay flat on his belly, his breathing increasing slightly in excitement as he watched the two continue on their way to the tower's walls with their weapons now drawn. It didn't take them long as they increased their pace to a light jog and soon they reached the intercom, where after a moment they were admitted entrance. He'd felt it. He knew he'd felt it! His Friend had hissed coldly in anticipation when something had answered. Surprise, surprise! He wasn't alone! It was fate, it was destiny! It was... amazing.

His target had a Friend of his own, and now his Friend wanted to play meet and greet.

The effects of the stealth boy wore off as the doors slid closed, but his Friend continued to stir in excitement. That cold hiss reached into the darkest depths of his soul and begged him to climb the rubble along the western wall and exact a dance of slashing and blood upon anyone that got in the way to his target. But discipline kept him from breaking ranks. Discipline instilled by both the training of the Talon Company and by the Rigid Doctrine imposed upon him by his father.

"Be as a Shadow," he whispered under his breath. "Undermine the Imperialist and wait, for he shall fall upon his own sword. A gentle push is all that is needed.

Reining in his Friend, Ling quietly slipped off of the ground to report back to Jose. Their prey was near at hand, and soon the dance would begin!

The Wanderer fought hard not to turn his nose up on the people living here as he made he waited by the elevator that would lead to the Penthouse. If he detested the common Wastelander and held them in contempt as little more than animals, than the people of this decadent and undeserving safety he held as a living embodiment of why the world was trapped in its current state of affairs. They were worse than animals, worse than even Raiders. As they sipped their drinks with laughter in their breath, no want they could think of out of their grasp, others starved to death or died under the sun as the radiation from foul water claimed their lives. He did manage to focus his gaze on his slave and avoid from any snide remarks towards these people.

Clover was handling Gustavo, trading some of their salvage for munitions. As much as the girl wasn't quite right in the head, she was awfully good at bartering. But he couldn't take his mind off of the feeling that had struck him- or more specifically the Presence- out there. He felt as though his own Presence had grown vastly since its first infantile breaths, born in the Super Duper Mart of all places, and though the other Presence they had felt had surprised it, it wasn't particularly shy right now.

It seemed to want to investigate even more than he himself did. He wasn't sure if that was good news or bad news, but in any case his curiosity had been aroused.

Clover made her way over, her business with Gustavo completed and offered a nod with a gentle wink. She held out the bag of caps she'd made off of the trade to him, smirking as she said, "Two hundred caps off of some microfusion cells, energy cells, and those couple of pistols we picked off of those scabs out by Fairfax."

He nodded distractedly and answered softly, "I want you to remain down here. Got to the lounge and get yourself some food. I think I want to handle this one alone."

Her face fell somewhat at that, but the woman nodded. Unfettered with her, he could hopefully gain information from Tenpenny without being distracted. With a soft sigh, the man pressed the elevator button to take him up. Stepping inside, he leaned back against the inner wall of the elevator with closed eyes. Convincing Tenpenny to tell him of the Fort would be difficult without doubt, and with his team of security- or even the sinister Burke lurking in the shadows- he doubted death threats would do the trick.

He glanced up at the camera positioned in the corner of the elevator, as if his thoughts would conjure Burke from that devilish piece of Pre-War tech. He brushed aside his paranoia with a practiced mental effort and fell deep into the soothing cold of the Presence. And it wrapped its wings around his mind in a way that left goosebumps crawling up his skin despite the very warm nature of his stealth suit. It was almost as if it were saying, I'll take care of this. When he breathed out again, the doors opened and he stepped out into the penthouse of Tenpenny Tower. His icy eyes had become glacial and his movements the liquid grace of a predator. Any conjured nervousness concerning Burke had been dispelled. Whether the man was here or not, it was inconsequential until he presented himself as a threat.

"What are you doing here?" came a voice off to his side, and when he glanced over at the security guard who sat outside of Tenpenny's suite a long smile presented itself over his features, hidden beneath his grim mask.

The Wanderer stepped out onto the balcony of Tenpenny's suite. After he'd searched for several minutes and had not found him, the Presence had pulled his attention to the balcony doors, as if whispering in its soothing darkness, This way. And sure enough as he emerged out onto the balcony, there was Tenpenny seated comfortably in a chair with a glass of whiskey poised near his lips. The man did not spare him a glance, nor did he move to finish his drink. It seemed as if the sunset had enraptured him. The Wanderer followed his gaze towards the plethora of colors that had enraptured the sky and he could admit it was quite a sight to behold, especially after nineteen years of SimuSun technology.

"Please, come and sit," the man said in a distinctly accented voice that was extremely pleasant and well mannered. It occurred to the Wanderer that this was the first time he'd met the man, despite having done his grunt work a month or so back. Doing as he was asked, he took the spare chair on the other side of Tenpenny, and was surprised as a drink was poured and offered in his direction. Offering a quiet thanks, he pulled the mask of his helmet up and watched the sunset with this man. Out of the corner of his eye though he studied him.

Dressed in a fine, if somewhat stained red jacket and a pair of beige slacks tucked into high boots, the man screamed the old world conception of 'Gentleman'. He gently sipped his drink- which had genuine ice cubes- while observing the interplay of colors before him, intelligent eyes set in a face that seemed withered and ancient, but still held some of the hard lines of a life genuinely lived.

For nearly fifteen minutes they sat in affable silence, each sipping their drinks, before Tenpenny suddenly sighed and set his drink on the table before turning to the Wanderer with a smile that immediately struck him as being friendly.

"I know you," said Tenpenny with a grin, and the Wanderer was indeed ensured that it was an accent, foreign to good ol' American soil, coming from the man. The man leaned forward and smirked, "Yes, you're that capital fellow that helped me with ghoulish situation." He offered a small, chuckle at his own cleverness. "Mmyes, you did a right good job at smashing that, what was it, Ray? and his overly ambitious plans of gaining entrance to my excellent little piece of Heaven. So, what can I do for you my dear boy?"

"I'm curious," the Wanderer said, and he found himself momentarily unbalanced. Could this really be the man that Crowley had sent him after? He was just... charming, and friendly. Then again, considering his sentiments about the ghouls that had wanted to live here... "About a mission funded by yourself, Mister Tenpenny-"

"Oh, call me Allistair. It gets tiresome to always have those drones of Gustavo constantly going on," laughed the man after holding up a hand to stop him. The Wanderer offered a cool smile, one that was reflected deeply by the Presence coiled in his mind.

"Very well, Allistair," he said in deference, casually folding his ankle over his knee while leaning to the side as he propped his chin on a fist. "You funded a mission some years ago, up north. From what I understand it was a four man-"

"Five man, well," Tenpenny smiled and took another sip from his drink, surprising the Wanderer as he interrupted him again. "You're partly correct. Four men and one woman. And Tara was such a looker. Fort Constantine, am I correct?"

This... is not going how I was expecting it.

The Wanderer frowned and blinked slowly. He felt as though one moment he'd been holding all the cards, only to flip them over and find all fifty-two to be Jokers. It was with a deep and slow motion that he nodded. Allistair smiled and gestured for him to pick up his drink. He did so and the man clinked his glass with his.

"Do you play chess?" asked Tenpenny unexpectedly, directing his attention to the chessboard with all of its pieces surprisingly there and intact. The Wanderer frowned and nodded softly, though he hadn't really played the last few weeks he'd been in the Vault, so caught up in work was he. It had actually been one of his rather favorite pastimes. The man clapped his hands together and exclaimed, "Capital! Simply capital! What say to a friendly little game, hmm? You and me."

He was just about to refuse when the Presence in his mind suddenly gave a great beat of its shadowy wings and hissed angrily. His eyes shot to the door that slowly opened and to the pair of figures that quickly stepped through it. One was Clover, struggling and snarling even with the pistol leveled against her temple and the other...

The other wore a grim expression of disappointment with a Fedora pulled low on his head, further compounding the shadow that his dark sunglasses cast over his eyes. Even if the man wore a grim face but otherwise wore no armor, the was a danger, a threat there that responded to his Presence. He could feel that shadow in his mind rising to the threat, and it was as if a two pairs of wings were beating now against one another, his Presence against Burke's own. As much as he had fancied that the shadow lurking in the back of his mind had grown formidable in its own right, Burke's still displayed a frightful bit more of shadowy energy.

"Ah, and there is Mister Burke now," the man continued pleasantly. He leaned back in his own chair after finishing his drink. "Such a decent man. Handles the things I'm too old to take care of anymore."

The Wanderer was too stunned to move from his casual position. This was not how he envisioned this meeting would take place at all. The man was used to being several steps ahead of any adversary he came across, whether it be in wordplay or in combat. But now... now he was sitting here, stumped in both with Burke holding a gun on his companion, ready to pull the trigger in a moment's notice. The Presence in his mind whispered to him, of how inconsequential she was and if he just let her die, he could kill both Tenpenny and Burke, be on his way and get his pay from Crowley. He almost reached for his pistol.

But somewhere, a part of him that had grown up wide eyed in the Vault protested the action.

"Stop struggling, Clover. If you don't, he will kill you. And then I'd be very disappointed."

The words came of their own accord, and he was startled he'd come to the defence of one he'd only a week ago been contemplating blasting out both of her knees. At his voice, the blonde woman stopped her struggling and looked at him with wide eyes. She became still as a statue, and in her astonished eyes he could pick out the beginnings of tears growing in her wide, green eyes that were giving way to fear.

"It seems you do have some sort of sense between your ears, my dear boy," Burke's low and insidious voice stretched across the balcony to him. He fought the urge to glare in Burke's direction, and instead focused his attention on Tenpenny.

"Well, since we'll be playing a game of chess, why not make it a game of questions as well," smiled Tenpenny and only now could he saw below that calmly facilitated gentlemanly demeanor was something wicked. "I'll start." Even as he said this he was moving a pawn forward and looked inviting as the Deathclaw the Wanderer had just faced down the day before. "Why are you so curious about what happened at Fort Constantine?"

Carefully, the Wanderer moved to a more comfortable position to survey the chessboard, keeping his voice level and his eyes pointedly off of the captive Clover, and responded as he moved one of his own pawns forward, "Mister Crowley, one of the mercenaries you hired I'm sure you recall, hired me to kill you. Along with the rest of the team you'd sent in. You're the only one left, but I'm curious as to just what is so important up at Fort Constantine that I felt it warranted an explanation... and a questioning of Crowley's worth of possessing it." He reached for his drink, noting for a moment that his hand had a quiver to it. "I answered, now it's my turn to question. What is so important up at Fort Constantine?"

"Other than the largest stockpile of nuclear weapons, chap?" chuckled Tenpenny, moving forward his bishop this time. The Wanderer warily watched as the piece sailed across the board. "I'm not entirely sure. Something that zombie obviously covets to a great extent- besides revenge of course. But that's not really my concern. You were rather forthright with the information of Crowley hiring you. Did you not think that... unwise?"

The Wanderer slowly slipped his eyes to lock onto the older man's and a smile curled along his features, trying to put forth as much false bravado as he could manage, "Is that your question?"

"Oh!" Tenpenny shook his head with a laugh, recanting and wagging a finger at him, "My you're such a bright chap! An absolute delightful change. No... I suppose my question would be, what would it be worth to you to forget this... revenge quest of his?"

Looking back to the board, the Wanderer moved a knight this time, moving it in front of his line of pawns as he considered the question. Would he so willingly give up this hunt he'd already dedicated so much time and effort towards? A quick glance at Clover, still held in the clutches of Burke had him asking another startling question of himself.

What am I prepared to lose for another man's vendetta?

"He was paying me one hundred caps per head," he answered with a small frown, watching as Tenpenny moved another of his pawns. "I've already dispatched three of the four." He moved own bishop this time, in a move mirroring Tenpenny's. Only he'd brought the Master of the Tower into checkmate. The man had left his king wide open to dispatchment. Looking into the man's eyes, he remarked calmly, "Checkmate. The question becomes, how much are you willing to pay?"

The British man frowned as he looked at the board before a smile bolstered his features again, with an appreciative look of admiration.

"Very nice, very eloquent!" laughed the man and tilted his head in admiration, before refilling his glass and topping off the Wanderer's. "It seems I'm far out of practice playing with the dullards around here." Off-handedly he glanced back at Mister Burke with a small gesture. After a moment's hesitation, the man released Clover, who quickly stumbled forward, trembling as she dashed to his side. "Mister Burke here always lets me win, so that doesn't help." The man's eyes locked onto his with the amusement still flickering in them while he leaned forward with his hands folded beneath his chin.

"What would you say to... three hundred caps for killing him," Tenpenny said after a long moment of gazing him over, and smiled softly, "One hundred caps paid up front, with the rest payable upon his death."

The Wanderer considered the offer for a long moment, his brow creased deeply in thought. The task would be simple enough to complete, almost hysterically so... but what of Fort Constantine? The mystery of the place so contested left a hot curiosity burning to be sated inside of him.

"After I go to Fort Constantine and see what the fuss is all about," he said slowly, noticing the cool smile that Burke was leveling his way with no small amount of irritation, "I'll take care of it."

"Good, good. Ah, Mister Burke. The young lady's caps. And the additional fee if you would," Tenpenny said at last with a soft clap of his hands. The man seemed intensely fond of doing that, to the point it almost seemed like a nervous tick. Burke nodded and tossed the bag of Clover's caps back to the woman, who only sluggishly caught it and then proceeded to count out the hundred caps to the Wanderer. As he was leaned over, he grinned and said something quietly that had the Presences between them hissing and threatening to collide in the close proximity.

"It appears you and I are not so different, my dear boy."

Stiffly walking out of the gates of the Tower, the Wanderer heaved a deep sigh of relief. He was undecided if he really wanted to shoot Crowley as opposed to Tenpenny, but just getting out of that place alive seemed plenty pay enough. That had been closer than he wanted it to be. Far, far closer than he could have ever imagined it to be. And that was when he realized his conceptions of clumping all of these wastelanders together in one ambiguous pot labeled 'barbaric, wildlife, barely sentient animals' was vastly false. Tenpenny had been a different experience for him, even with Burke's familiar malevolent Presence lingering at his side. The man had proven that not all of these wasteland savages were idiots. It was in this realization that he began to suspect that Tenpenny had deliberately allowed him to put him in checkmate.

Clover, who had been clinging to him, sighed softly and seemed to breathe a little easier now that they were outside of the gates of Tenpenny's Tower of decadence.

"Master-"

The heavy report of a rifle, cut her sentence off.

Alrighty folks, that's chapter seven! Hope ya'll enjoyed it and go ahead and leave a review either way. I'd like to address a couple of things first.

Yes, I realize that the Presence is similar to the Dark Passenger in Jeff Lindsay's Dexter books. This is where I drew my inspiration for the thing. And it made sense to me, given some both in game material and some imaginative material which formed around in my head. I will touch on the in-game material at a later date, likely with another short story. As for the imaginative material... What is the S.P.E.C.I.A.L.- specifically the Perception? How is it that you're able to discern between friend and foe? The Presence was my solution to this, and I felt that some other characters would be rightly deserving of one of their own in the wastelands. I also wanted to create something that would show the psychological struggle between The Wanderer and the Kid from One-Oh-One, or at least who he used to be, and felt why not give it a more literal sense of the term, something created- or drawn to him- which is keeping him alive but at the same time seems to be filtering away his humanity to more he relies on it. Seemed perfectly reasonable to me. Anyways sorry about the cliffhanger, but I'll make it up with my next update I'm hopin'.

Yes! We're coming up to the first conflict between the Wanderer and Clover against the Talon Mercs Crowley hired.