DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE FALLOUT UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.

Chapter 7: The Station

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Date: April 18, 2285

Location: NPD Station, Natchitoches, Louisiana

Time: 1147 hours (11:47 A.M.)

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It took time to navigate the streets through the abandoned areas of Natchitoches. Drew and company passed numerous burned out homes, collapsed buisnesses, and destroyed cars. The first clue they were near the station was a small building with a sign over the door.

'CITY OF NATCHITOCHES POLICE DEPARTMENT RECORDS BUILDING.'

Drew pointed to the sign and Sarge nodded and then looked to another structure.

"There's the garage where damaged police cruisers and fire engines were repaired. The building right next to it is the old Civil Records building. It was moved there in 2068 after a spy tried to steal public records of the city's railroad transportation network. The mayor back then figured the records would be safer under the eyes of the NPD." Drew nodded and then gazed at a medium sized red brick building.

Though corroded with age and ash, Drew recognized the building as the Police Station thanks to the half-destroyed wording on the side. Almost absently, he felt the object he carried in his back pocket and walked towards the door. Sarge saw him.

"Kid, what're you doing? That way is the main entrance to the station. You'd need an executive passcode or an officer's badge number to enter!"

The group of soldiers looked at Drew who then produced his grandfather's badge from his pocket and stopped before the door. Drew looked at the badge and ran his fingers over the gold shield and entered his ancestor's badge number.

'705'

There was a low buzzing noise as the door unlocked and, pulling the door open, Drew, Sarge, Izzy, and the soldiers entered the building. Once inside, they were greeted by an astonishing sight. Though there WERE some ghouls scattered about, the majority of the dead bodies belonged to the Marauders. As he worked his way around the bodies, a gruff voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Alright smoothskin. One more step and I'll show you just what law and order means in this godforsaken world." Drew looked and saw three ghouls dressed in threadbare prewar police uniforms and, though their badges were rusty and dull, they still maintained the bearing of the police officers they once were.

Drew raised his hands, badge in hand, and looked at the leader of the group.

"Hold your fire." The ghoul fixed him with a steely glare and then gazed at the badge in Drew's hand.

"Alright, how'd you get the badge?"

"I'm Drew Durr. My grandfather was Lieutenant Aaron Durr of the NPD." For the first time ever, Drew witnessed a look of surprise on a ghoul's face. As the ghoul lowered the shotgun, he came forward and gazed at him more closely.

"Heh, you sure look like the LT. Alright then kid. Tell me something only the LT would have known. What was the craziest thing that ever happened to his unit?" Drew thought back to all the tales he'd heard from his father and grandfather about their ancestor and then remembered something that stood out.

"On January 27th, 2075, Squad 5 of the Natchitoches Police Department wrecked a total a seven squad cars due to the weather caused by a polar vortex. Because of severe icing on the roads, Officers Durr, Clementez, Young, Basco, and Briggs, while responding to an ice-related accident, lost control of their cruisers and smashed into other vehicles along the I49 Overpass. The other two cruisers wrecked while responding to THEIR accident. This incident became the reason the NPD began being issued deicing chemicals whenever winter weather was to be expected."

Sarge and the soldiers looked at Drew for a moment and then were shocked when the officers started laughing.

"Yeah, that's right, heh, the LT never let me live THAT down. Hot damn, you ARE his kid! So, he and Anne made it to the Vault alright. I'm glad. I wouldn't have wanted them to experience this particular type of hell." The ghoul then extended his hand.

"Sergeant Jose Clementez, I was your Grandpa's partner when he was on the force. So, what brings you to the Station?"

"We stopped a sniper at the Church Street Church and heard the Marauders are here to steal a cache of prewar weapons that was taken the day before the bombs fell." Clementez nodded and then sighed.

"I though as much. Damndest thing, I often complained about destroying weapons, especially when they were rare ones, but now I'd give ANYTHING for a damn armored truck and a blast furnace. Still, I guess that the end of the world means that the weapons aren't illegal anymore. Don't look so surprised, those LSM radioes still use the same frequency that our old portables." Clementez then turned to the stairs.

"A few of those guys made it down below, so we hit the release button for the cells below. Heh, all the thieves, drunks, and other criminal types that were down there were shielded from lethal radiation but were still turned into ghouls like us. Only thing, they're out of thir damn minds. Well, all but one that is."

"Who's the one?"

"Terrence 'Two-Ton' Brown, he's the chem dealer we apprehended with the weapons. Used to be an enforcer for one of the local gangs, got the nickname not because he was big but because the first time he killed someone, he ran 'em down with a two-ton pickup truck."

"We'd been after that bastard for years. When we finally catch him, the world ends and it became hell on earth. Bastard murdered twenty-seven people and had killed untold numbers more with the ammount of chems he was pushing onto the streets. He never saw a judge, a jury, and I and my friends here would have given anything to see him fry in the electric chair."

Drew nodded and then started towards the door only to be stopped by Clementez.

"If you're going down there, you can have the weapons and ammo from the lockup. Thing is, once the prisoners got loose, they wouldn't go back in their cells. They're feral, but they still recognize us as the ones who put them behind bars in the first place. I know I don't seem... sympathetic... but hearing them wail and moan day in and day out... grant them peace. Oh, and if you see Brown down there, put that bastard out of OUR misery."

Drew nodded and then started towards the steps and then turned back to see the LSM soldiers standing by. Remembering what they had said, he sighed.

"You soldiers stay up here in case more raiders come in. Sarge, you, me and Izzy will go down there and pacify the inmates."

Sarge nodded and then looked to the gun cabinet in the ready room.

"Hey Sergeant, any weapons you can spare? Drew's got his pistol and I've got a shotgun he found for me but that's it." Clementez nodded and went to the ready room and spoke from the room.

"We've got two shotguns, three semi-auto carbines, and...hello there, I've got two SWAT issue submachineguns here. Looks like we've got plenty of 10mm ammo. We've also got a workbench and some addons and mods for them if you want to fix them up. Trust me, those guns and the criminals down there aren't going anywhere anytime soon."

Drew nodded thankfully and took one of the SMGs and went to the workbench. There, he fitted a new stock to the weapon, a foreward grip, extended 'drum' magazines, a reflex sight, and finally a flashlight. He looked over to Sarge who chuckled.

"Hey, no cheating on the exams, ha!" Sarge hefted his SMG and examined it before nodded that he was satisfied and loaded a magazine and pulled the bolt, chambering a round and making sure the weapon was safe.

"Ready kid?" Drew nodded, also chambering the weapon, and then nodded to Izzy who went to his side instantly. Another of the ghoul officers opened the door which opened with a metallic creaking noise. Drew looked to Sarge.

"Cover me." Sarge nodded and followed behind Drew as he descended the stairs.

As they reached the basement where the lockup was located, a snarling, hissing, growling cacophany was heard. Drew prepared to open the door, Sarge stood before the door, gun ready, and Izzy was right behind Drew, growling lowly. He realized that she smelled something on the other side of this door and she did NOT like it, whatever it was.

With a jerk, Drew pulled the door opened and Sarge came face to face with a feral ghoul who ignored Sarge, then turned to Drew and Izzy and snarled angrily. Sarge flipped the safety off the weapon and fired a burst into the ghoul who fell backwards, dead, a last gasp escaping from its lungs. Drew looked to Sarge who sighed as he looked at the ghoul, then looked at Drew.

"Sorry. They're all ghouls in here. I... I remember the day before the war that a student I taught had been arrested and locked up here. I just... I've seen how much pain feral ghouls are in... The worst part is that I can't do a damn thing to help them. All you can do to end it is to put them out of their misery. Doing for them what I could never do for myself."

Drew didn't know what it meant to be a ghoul and honestly he hoped he'd never find out. Still, the look on Sarge's face made it hit home, the magnitude of what they were doing.

Cautiously, Drew stepped into the station cell lockup and eased past the first block of cells. Though the station had a fusion core backup generator, it seemed the core may have been on it's last legs as the lighting in the lockup was poor and lights continually flickered or went off for a moment and then came back on. He heard his feet make a squelching sound and looked down to see that he was standing in a pool of blood.

Blood that led to a nearby dead raider with three ghouls ripping him apart.

Drew leveled his weapon, flipped the safety off, and fired a burst into the first ghoul. The other two rose and started at him immediately. He fired a burst into the second which was low and took the ghoul's legs out from under it. The third he fired at and took down. He heard a growling and saw the ghoul crawling towards him until a burst from behind him made him remember that Sarge was behind him.

The ghoul was killed by that burst but now the growls, wails, and cries of the feral ghouls who were dormant now became loud and often. Sarge growled as he came up beside Drew.

"Why do I feel like we just woke the dead?"

Drew didn't reply as four more ghouls rose from a nearby cell and charged at them, snarling and hissing. Drew pulled the SMGs trigger and held on for dear life as it fired full-auto into the onrushing ghouls. Glancing to his right, he saw another group charging at them and Sarge was standing there peppering them as well. Drew looked at Sarge and hollered over his shoulder.

"How many inmates could the station hold?"

"Normally twenty but possibly forty when overcrowded. Judging by these bodies, I'd say the police were close to hanging a 'No Vacancy' sign on the door." Drew muttered a curse and then gazed down the hallway with open cells on either side of it.

"Think the evidence locker is down that hallway?" Sarge turned to him and shrugged.

"Only one way to find out kid, and that's forward."

Izzy went in front of Drew, cautiously sniffing anything that she felt would threaten Drew. Once or twice, she came to a raider and gave it a cautious sniff or a bite before leaving it alone. The ghouls she sniffed and watched to see if there were ANY signs of life from them but refrained from biting.

For that Drew was grateful because ghouls were walking, living, breathing conduits of radiation. Being scratched, bitten, or even breathed on by a ghoul introduced trace radiation to a person.

Despite Sarge's grim predictions, they didn't run into any other ghouls. It appeared that the raiders did a good enough job of clearing them out before they themselves were killed. Drew, Sarge, and Izzy made it to the last cell row when they heard a rustling to their left. Instinctively, Drew raised his weapon and turned to face the noise when a voice called out.

"Hold it pal. You don't want to get trigger happy now do ya?"

Sarge and Drew looked on as Izzy growled low and menacingly as an old rotten mattress was flipped over, bathing the cell with an eerie green light.

Still dressed in a prison jumpsuit, a glowing ghoul rose to his feet, dusted off his legs in a nonchalant way and started towards them.

"So, some new people to talk to. Not like the more... feral company I've had for the past few years... no uniforms so you're not police or whatever the hell passes for an authority these days, and you haven't shot me yet so you aren't like the 'guests' my fellow inmates 'entertained' recently. Which means you must be scavengers and that you've 'taken care' of the officers who didn't blow their brains out when they turned into... whatever the hell your friend and I turned into which must also mean you are here for whatever is in the evidence lockup down that way. So tell me, am I right?"

Drew was about to answer when Sarge placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a direct 'shut the hell up and let me do the talking' look.

"That's right. The station is clear except for you and us. May we have your name?"

The glowing one stood and folded his hands behind his back.

"My name is Terrance Brown. You can call me Mr. Terrance, or Mr. Brown. Now that the formalities are out of the way, I have a proposition that might interest you fine gentlemen. When I was... detained unlawfully in the day, my personal effects and equipment of my trade were placed into the lockup here."

"Now, I will say that some of the fellows here before are down there but from the sound of the swearing they haven't had much luck with the electronic locks and I just so happen to know the combination to the locks. I just need you to do one, small, insignificant favor for me. Open. This. Cell."

When he'd spoken those last words, he'd placed his hands on the bars and smiled. Sarge then looked to Drew and then back to Terrance.

"Now why, per say, would we want to do that?" Terrance's smile faded and he took on a more dangerous tone of voice.

"Well now that's the trick isn't it? The locks down there are electronically locked, plus, there are more of those...'people' down there and they seem to be VERY gun crazy. Now I can go back to hiding but what's to stop them from finding you two if say, someone starts yelling? Plus, even if you kill me I notice that none of your weapons are suppressed meaning the gunfire will be VERY loud right here and maybe draw some attention. Get the drift?"

Sarge frowned but then looked to Drew and then nodded.

"Alright, what's the code to the doors?" Terrence returned to a smile.

"Simple. The code is keyed to the officer in charge's birthdate and badge number. The officer in charge of the lockup was one Lieutenant Aaron Durr. All you have to do is find the personel records upstairs." Drew couldn't help but smile and then chuckle.

"Seriously? That's all? My grandfather's birthday was November 11, 2037, and I have his badge right here." Terrence went wide-eyed and then started growling angrily.

"YOU are the GRANDSON of Aaron DURR?! That bastard who LOCKED me here?! Damn him! I had a place in the Vault! I was supposed to be IN the Vault but thanks to him, I was in prison when the bombs fell and I became THIS! Damn you, damn you and your Grandfather to HELL! I should have killed him and his wife when I had the chance instead of going after his damn brother!"

Terrence Brown began to glow and Drew's geiger counter on his Pipboy began going off. Drew frowned at the ghoul and leveled the SMG to Brown's face who, too late, realized what he'd just said and looked to Drew.

"Officer Clementez sends his regards, Two-Ton." Brown roared a final yell of defiance as Drew squeezed the trigger and then proceeded to empty the entire drum magazine into the ghoul." Sarge looked at Drew who sighed before reloading the weapon.

"One of my Grandfather's biggest regrets was that the man who murdered his brother never faced justice for his crimes. No one seemed to know who had done it but he'd had his suspicions." Drew walked from the cell before looking back at Brown's corpse and then looking at Sarge.

"You know something? I can't explain it but I feel as if a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

Sarge noticed this as Drew went towards the door leading to the lockup. Drew indeed seemed relieved about something.

As Drew went to the door, the commotion which Brown had warned them about had died down although there were still some quieted swearing.

"I told ya getting these weapons wouldn't be that easy. Can you believe it? We started with twelve people for this raid and now it's down to just the four of us."

"Keep quiet will ya? I swear I heard something that sounded like gunfire from above. Feral ghouls can't shoot guns can they?"

"Hell no, they're FERAL ghouls, they don't have the neccessary brainpower to know one end of a gun from the other much less shoot one."

"Dammit! Will you three pipe down? I swear to you I've almost got this thing unlocked. Just need a little... more... time... DAMN! Another lockpick broke to hell. That's it. Mace, grab the satchel charges. So what if we lose some of the goods to the explosion? At least we get out with SOMETHING."

Drew eased around to the corner and then looked to Sarge who nodded.

"You take two, I take two?" Drew nodded and then steadied himself with a deep breath and held up three fingers.

Three...

Two...

One...

Drew and Sarge stormed around the corner and opened fire on the surprised group of raiders who were trying to set a charge on the door to the lockup. One raider managed to draw his weapon and fire a shot before Sarge turned him into a collinder. Drew went forward and made sure the raiders were dead and then turned to Sarge and saw him leaning against the wall.

"Sarge! You okay?" Sarge nodded but then winced.

"Yeah, but DAMN! I forgot how much getting shot hurts! Bastard who got off a shot got me. Ah, hold on a moment..." Drew came up to Sarge and looked where a slightly greenish-red blood was leaking and then sighed.

"You say THAT hurts? That's a scratch!" Sarge huffed and then looked away.

"Yeah kid, but remember, I'm two-hundred years old. For me, a scratch may be all that takes to kill me." Drew laughed and then set his SMG aside next to the ghoul to go to the door of the lockup. As he moved the body of the lockpicker aside, he called over his shoulder.

"A scratch ain't going to kill you old man. You're too damn stubborn to stay dead, and neither Heaven nor Hell want a part of THAT fight." Sarge burst out laughing while Drew knelt down to the door and studied the lock. The first door had what looked to be an 8-digit display and the one beyond, a 3-digit.

Drew input the first passcode: '11112037'.

The door released an audible mechanical 'buzz' as Drew opened it and then he entered his grandfather's badge number into the second door which let out the same buzz as it was opened and once inside, Drew looked around and whistled.

"Hey, Sarge! Come look at this!"

A moment later, Sarge came into the lockup and whistled at the weapons around them.

"God-Almighty, what a haul! Look at this, pistols, revolvers, submachineguns, bolt-action rifles, lever-action rifles, semi-automatic rifles, pump shotguns, automatic shotguns, assault rifles, and is... is that a damn BAZOOKA?! Holy moly."

Sarge went to the weapons and lifted a small pistol from the pile and held it reverently. Drew noticed Sarge's expression and smiled.

"So Professor, what kind of weapon is that?" Sarge showed the elegant weapon to Drew and smiled.

"This, my young pupil, is a Luger P.08, the crown jewel of any gun collector's collection from the pre-war days. A collector was not truly a collector unless he had a Luger or Luger varient in his collection."

"This weapon was the successor to the Mauser C96 and the Borchardt Pistol and served with the German Army in both World Wars and was HIGHLY prized by American soldiers due to its rarity and reliability. To find one in this day and age is akin to finding a diamond in a radhog's ass." He then looked to Drew and sighed.

"Clementez said we can have these weapons right? Well, if I have no other weapon from this cache, I want this Luger." Drew nodded understandingly.

"If you want it Sarge, you can have it. Besides, I already have TWO pistols, what would I want another for?" Sarge nodded appreciatively and then picked up the Luger's holster, fastened it to his belt, and holstered the rare weapon.

Drew pushed past him and he asked Sarge what a few weapons were and then he found a terminal and accessed it. The password, knowing his great-great-great-great grandfather, was either his grandmother's name, birthday, or his great-great-great grandfather's name or birthday.

He was right with his grandmother's name.

The lockup inventory flashed across the screen and Drew quickly took note of it.

WEAPONS SEIZED:

ONE (1) LUGER P.08 PISTOL, 9MM, SERIAL NUMBER 04428.

THREE (3) .45 CALIBER HANDGUNS (M1911 KNOCKOFFS), .45 CALIBER, NO SERIAL NUMBERS.

TWO (2) WESTEK .50 CALIBER DEFENDER HANDGUNS, .50 CALIBER, SERIAL NUMBERS 1145 AND 2077.

SIX (6) RIFLES, CIVILIAN BRANDS, NON-MILITARY, VARIOUS CALIBERS, NO SERIAL NUMBERS.

EIGHT (8) WESTEK 10MM SWAT-ISSUE SMG-ASSAULT RIFLE CONVERSIONS, 10MM, ONE SERIAL NUMBER 114567, OTHER FILED OFF.

TEN (10) SHOTGUNS (PUMP, SEMI, AND FULLY AUTOMATIC) CIVILIAN AND MILITARY ISSUE, 12 GAUGE, NO SERIALS.

(NOTE:) CHECK WITH LOCAL NATIONAL GUARD QUARTERMASTER FOR 'MISSING' WEAPONS.

NINE (9) ASSAULT RIFLES, VARIOUS TYPES, VARIOUS CALIBERS, NO SERIALS.

(NOTE:) AGAIN, CHECK WITH NG QUARTERMASTER. (IS THAT IDIOT LAZY, CROOKED, OR JUST DUMB AS A POST?)

ONE (1) REVOLVER/SHOTGUN HYBRID, 4-10 CALIBER, NO SERIAL. SUSPECTED IN MURDER OF ALEXIS REED (CASE No: AR1M-224577, CLEMENTEZ, JOSE ASSIGNED).

ONE (1) M8A4 BAZOOKA (WTF?), 65MM, BELIEVED STOLEN FROM NG ARMORY.

(NOTE:) HOW THE HELL DOES SOMEONE STEAL A B-A-Z-O-O-K-A? AGAIN, CHECK WITH THE NG QUARTERMASTER AT EARLIEST POSSIBLE CONVENIENCE. (IF THE BASTARD DOESN'T ANSWER OR GIVES ME THE RUN AROUND, GO OVER HIS HEAD TO COL. FOSTER, CO, LAANG FORT POLK, LEESVILLE.)

ADDENDUM: LABEL THE NG QUARTERMASTER AS HYPN. I'M SICK OF DEALING WITH THIS ASSHOLE.

ONE (1) M2 BROWNING .50 CAL HEAVY MACHINEGUN (WTF?), .50 CALIBER, BELIEVED STOLEN FROM NG ARMORY. IN ADDITION, 2500 ROUNDS, .50 CALIBER AMMUNITION.

(NOTE:) ARE THE MPS AT THE ARMORY BLIND OR SOMETHING? YOU COULD PROBABLY SNEAK A TANK BY THOSE BLOCKHEADS AND GET AWAY WITH IT.

ADDENDUM: SHOULDN'T HAVE JINXED IT LIKE THAT. CLEMENTEZ JUST ASKED FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME IF HE COULD CHECK OUT THE BAZOOKA WE CONFISCATED (AND THE NG FAILED (AGAIN) TO CLAIM. I'M CONSIDERING LENDING IT TO HIM JUST TO SHUT HIM UP FOR FIVE SECONDS.

VARIOUS SIZE AND TYPE KNIVES, AXES, SWORDS (WTF?), A BUSH HOOK, AND A ROLLING PIN.

DRUGS SEIZED:

TEN (10) DOSES JET

TEN (10) DOSES PSYCHO

TEN (10) DOSES HYDRA

FORTY (40) DOSES STEADY

TEN (10) DOSES X-CELL

FIVE (5) DOSES DADDY-O

SEVENTY (70) DOSES 'PSYCHOJET'

ONE-HUNDRED FIFTEEN (115) MENTATS PACKAGES (CONTENTS IN BOX LABELED FOR SALE TO STUDENTS AT NSU AND NCHS. SENT REPORT TO DRUG TASK FORCE TO SPEAK TO THE PRINCIPAL OF NCHS AND DEAN OF NSU REGARDING THESE DRUGS.)

(NOTE:) PSYCHOJET. I HEARD THESE CHEM DEALERS WERE COMBINING DRUGS INTO NEW AND VARIOUS COCKTAILS. TO COME UP WITH SOMETHING LIKE THIS THOUGH, TWO-TON MUST HAVE BEEN HOPPED UP ON HIS OWN SUPPLY.

MISC:

SEVERAL TYPES OF ILLEGAL 'FRAG' AMMO, MAKESHIFT BODY ARMOR, SERVERAL TYPES AND SUB-CALIBERS OF AMMUNITION INCLUDING 9MM, 10MM, 5.56, .223, .45, .44, 7.62MM, 8MM, .50 CALIBER, AND TEN (10) ROUNDS 65MM API BAZOOKA ROUNDS (AGAIN, WTF?).

(NOTE:) NOT A TANK, BUT STILL THIS IS GETTING ABSOLUTELY REDICULOUS. JUST WHAT THE HELL ARE THE FRONTLINE TROOPS FIGHTING WITH? STICKS, STONES, AND HARSH LANGUAGE? ALL THEIR WEAPONS ARE STUCK HERE IN LOCKUP.

Sarge whistled as he looked over the list and read Drew's grandfather's notes and then eyed the bazooka and the other weapons carefully.

"Hey Drew, you know something? If you wanted to, you now have enough weapons, ammo, and body armor here to start your own mercenary company, or at least you would be well equipped for any situation, save a nuclear blast." Drew nodded.

"I've thought of that, but first, I would need the caps to buy the rights to do so as well as territory that we could base ourselves out of. For the moment, I'm just happy working as a freelance merc. Once we deal with the Wolf Skull Marauders, we'll see where we stand." Sarge nodded then looked back up to the way the station was then turned.

"What about the LSM? You know they'll want to confiscate the weapons." Drew thought for a moment and then chuckled.

"I don't think it's wise to tick off the LSM but, for this once, I think we can make an exception to that. Let's lock up the room, take whatever is salvageable off the raiders, and then report the area as inaccessable."

"Inaccessable due to...?"

"Glowing One radiation. We could say that the area is irradiated due to Brown. Or we could say that the raiders blasted the door and brought a support down." Sarge nodded and then grabbed the charge.

"Best make it convincing then. I'll set the charge near Brown's cell and hopefully it'll bring down a support over the door to the lockup and not much else."

Drew nodded and together they started back up, dropped the charge by the door, and then, with a glance, started running to the door and then up the stairs.

Once at the top they were greeted by Clementez and the LSM soldiers who only had a moment before Sarge's eyes met their's.

"GET DOWN!"

Moments later, an explosion rocked the station and knocked quite a bit of dust from the ceiling. Moments later, Clementez rose and looked to Drew and Sarge.

"What the holy hell was THAT?!" Drew shook dust from his hair and sleeves before speaking.

"Raiders had a suicide charge fixed. When we reached the lockup, bastard pulled a fuse and we started running. By the way, Brown is dead. He became a Glowing One and as a result, the lower level is irradiated." Clementez nodded and then thought of something.

"Tell me something, when you killed him, did he say anything?" Drew nodded.

"He said he was responsible for my killing my grandfather's brother." Clementez was lucky he was sitting down because the news of this revelation absolutely floored him.

"All this time... we had the bastard right beneath our feet... poor Liam... the LT was absolutely devastated when they reported his brother's murder over the radio. Shot point blank with a shotgun. We suspected Brown because it fit his M.O. Whenever someone was getting close or moving in on his operations or territory, their loved ones usually turned up dead."

"I'm glad you ended that bastard." Drew nodded and the looked to the wall and saw a picture of his grandfather and a man, he presumed, was his great uncle Liam and smiled.

"You and me both Clementez. You and me both."

As Drew turned and left the station, the LSM soldiers with him fell in and once on the street, the squad leader looked to him.

"Two firefights in a day, eh? Damn, you sure lead an interesting life." Drew chuckled but it wasn't with humor.

"Not by my choice. I just have a bad habit of pissing off the wrong kind of people." The soldiers around him laughed.

"That's the understatement of the century. Anyway, orders came through on the radio. The General's in a conference about how the hell the raiders slipped our pickets and sensors so the debriefing'll have to wait. In the meantime, you've been granted quarters in the Saint Denis hotel. Get some rest, recover, and either tomorrow or the day after, expect to be called to the General's office."

Drew nodded he understood and gazed in the distance at the city that lay before him, worried yet excited about what the future held for him.