Nathan sat in his wooden chair. The suite that had been awarded to him was quite large. Larger than House's penthouse in fact.
"I wonder how that old man is doing. I do need to take the time to visit him. He may have a new contract for me." Nathan beamed as he sipped his beverage. Anders stood somberly near the main doors. Nathan frowned. "I do wonder how long it has been since our team went missing. They must be worried back home in Goodsprings." Nathan murmured. He wiped his Pip-Boy's screen. Over the course of Nathan's stay he had developed a nasty habit of wiping the screen when he was nervous or restless. It was unbecoming of him. Too much damn sitting around, I suppose. Nathan carefully watched Anders as he studied the room. Anders placed a finger to his ear. He looked unnerved.
"Sir?" He whispered. "Yes, sir. Of course. We'll make it happen. I'll get Mitchell right on it. Of course, sir." Anders continued mumbling until Nathan lost interest. I need to locate Hayes and Hsu. They're both hurt, they need medical attention. Nathan furrowed his brow planning his escape and as if on cue, Anders placed his hand on Nathan's shoulder. "Just wanted to let you know. Colonel Hsu is in stable condition, the Auto-Doc procedure was successful and he is scheduled to begin rehabilitation tomorrow morning. Additionally, Captain Hayes had hisarm replaced. It was a synthetic replacement of course, but so long as he doesn't mind it too much, it will function as good as his arm before he lost it." Nathan blinked twice. Anders smirked as if he knew what Nathan was planning.
"So don't worry, the President would like you to relax as much as possible. Enjoy the scenery, sit back and enjoy the furnishings we've provided for you here." Anders stated calmly. Nathan set his gaze upon the red velvet carpet. He had been planning on how he was going to disable anyone who would have gotten in his way in order to get to Hsu and Hayes, but it turned out that they would be fine without him. Nathan looked up once again and realized that for the long time he had spent in his new room, he had not taken a good look at it. The floor was covered by red velvet carpet that was cleaner than anything back in the Lucky 38. The suite was enormous, with half-walls made of cedar wood and paneling to create an illusion of separate, private rooms. There was a wooden door that probably would have led to a master bedroom. Numerous paintings and photographs filled the dark red walls. Why red was so prominent in the room escaped Nathan, but the paintings were breath-taking. Most were portraits, likely those of American officials and congressman, but there was one of George and a woman. Nathan stood up and got out of his chair to take a better look. It seemed Anders and the other man standing guard noticed him and the other man stepped to intercept before Anders stopped him. Nathan walked until he was just a breath away from the enormous painting which took up a large portion of paneling right next to the door to the master bedroom. A golden frame surrounded the picture, it shone brightly in the light, even though the light came from artificially fluorescent bulbs to simulate sunlight. Nathan interested by the picture. The background of the painting was a mixture of red and black. In the middle painting itself, stood George, younger and beaming with happiness. A stupid grin exploded from his face which involved all facial muscles. His brows, lips, and even eyes were all involved in his expression. Though it was a painting and likely it did not capture a lot of the happiness he was feeling, the painting was sufficient. George wore a black suit, identical to the one Nathan had just seen him wearing a little while ago. He stood above a woman in a white dress and black hair sitting in a wooden chair. George's hands were placed on the woman's shoulders, she wore the same beaming grin that George wore.
"Do you like the painting?" George's disembodied voice called from somewhere behind Nathan. Nathan turned and saw George at the minibar at the corner of the suite. The bar was stocked with all assortments of liquor and beverages that Nathan had never seen before. George was balanced a cigarette on his lips, its tip was smoking. George worked quickly, gathering various bottles of liquor and pouring himself a cocktail of various drinks.
"I find it very…" words failed Nathan.
"No need." George gestured at the drink. Nathan nodded. George nodded and began work on a second cup. Nathan fixed his gaze once again on the painting. George was soon by Nathan's side holding a drink in either hand. He motioned a cup in his left hand and Nathan took it. Nathan sipped it, somehow though George had mixed together all sorts of liquor, it was surprisingly light. George took his cigarette from his mouth and flicked it away before downing his drink in a few gulps. "That was the best day of my life." George whispered.
"Who is she?" Nathan asked. George placed his cup on the end table under the painting.
"My wife." George said as he began patting himself all over. "Could've sworn." It was then that Nathan realized that George wasn't wearing his black coat and only wore a white shirt with the top button left undone and the sleeves rolled up. Nathan frowned and the thought daunted on him that level of skill it required to paint this picture was in high demand but the artisans of the painting trade were almost non-existent.
"We have no one this good anywhere in the Mojave. Even back home in the NCR there are few people who have this kind of skill painting." Nathan commented. "Who painted it?"
"I don't remember." George murmured as he balanced a cigarette in between two fingers and produced a lighter in his right palm. Nathan stared at the painting and listened as George sparked the lighter to light his cigarette. "Please take a seat. We still have much to discuss." George sighed after a long puff on his cigarette. Nathan sat in an armchair that faced the painting and George sat with his back facing the painting.
"What do we need to discuss?" Nathan asked. George nodded and waved his right hand at Anders.
"I'm sure you have many doubts and questions. You may ask three now." George said.
"Are you really as old as you say?"
"Yes."
"How are you still alive?"
"Very good question." George held up his index finger and Nathan saw Anders place a holodisk on the coffee table that separated the two men. Anders stepped back and began to type onto his Pip-Boy. The holodisk was attached to some device that sat on the glass surface of the table. The disk lit up and began to display holographic images.
"In order to explain how I have lived this long, I will need to explain everything to you. The hidden technological advances, the reason that I was chosen for Presidency, everything. Do you understand? If you don't like a long history lecture this is time to say so and we can continue this conversation later at a slower pace." Nathan nodded.
"Please, continue. I am genuinely interested." The things I saw back in California convinced me the United States was hiding a lot of things, but even the plans for some of their top-secret assets never included the tech capable of the kind that George is describing.
"There are many factors that play into my prolonged vitality. One of which was the New Plague which had hit Colorado. I was a soldier at the time and we were sent to the city for quarantine containment and control. Unfortunately, due to terrible and faulty intel, my squad and myself became infected. I am oversimplifying many details but you will have to bear with me, I am not quite yet inclined to reveal to you all of my government's secrets." Yet you're willing to reveal this to me?
"The government was worried. They knew that the threat of war with the Chinese was very real and they needed infantry to fight the Chinese and quell the resistance that would come from their plans for Canada. They contracted West-Tek with creating a virus to destroy the New Plague."
"The FEV, right? Forced Evolutionary Virus?" Nathan pitched in. George nodded.
"I'm sure you are aware that this is the compound that created the race of Super Mutants and changed the animal life that once lived in the continental United States?" Nathan nodded grimly. He could only remember the loud crack when the Super Mutant in the maze broke Colonel Hsu's back.
"Well, don't fret. They were infected with was diluted strain. The full effects were never included into the Super Mutants and as such produce a much smaller threat." George stated simply.
"Wait, what? The FEV that was provided to the Mariposa military facility and the Vaults were…"
"Diluted? Weaker? Yes to both. You see, old sport, FEV is some extremely expensive material to create. It was all synthetic and if someone messed up one part of the process, the whole batch would be ruined. As such, President Wilson, the man before me, God bless his soul; decided that it would be in America's best interests to begin to experiment with smaller and weaker doses to increase output. The full batch and the stronger stuff is definitely much more dangerous than anything provided to the Vaults and Mariposa."
"What could be worse than a Super Mutant?" George's gaze darkened.
"A lot of things. For example, the mark III schematic." George grunted. The image changed. Images of military facilities and genetic sequences changed to blueprints and sketches of what looked like a slimmed down version of the T-45d Power armor. "It is common misconception, especially among Wastelanders, that the T-51b was much more effective than the T-45d suit. The T-51b was simply cheaper and provided the wearer more mobility. The T-45d was bulkier and slower due to more protective armor plating and therefore much more expensive to produce. The bulky, slow protection provided buy the 45d model was perfect for Alaskan operations. The power cell located in the dorsal valve provided a convenient heating system and was optimized for wide, flat battlegrounds. However, that bulky exterior was next to useless in the swamps and enclosed jungle which troops became pinned down in during many operations in the Chinese mainland. Even so, T-45d battalions never lost most than six casualties for the entirety of the offensive. Unfortunately, even so, we needed something to provide soldiers with extra mobility. As such, I had Chryslus and West-Tek begin solo operations and designs for a new, much more mobile suit. They came up with the Mark III. In truth, it was the Mark II, but the Mark II was simply too costly. Essentially, the armor utilized the idea of Mister Handy's durable and self-repairing shell and the synthetic flesh of the android technology that MIT was so desperately studying. The design resulted in a much more fluid and responsive armor system, it was much thinner than the 45d. It would be worn like clothes and the wearer would apply additional armor plating above it. Unfortunately, the design seemed to unorthodox and utilized too many moving parts. US HighCom decided on placing the extra armor plating onto a prototype of the T47c and saw how effective the new fusion was. The high mobility of the Mark III was not enough; they believed America's citizens needed a more "knight in shining armor" look for the upcoming war."
"But I was President at the time so I decided to still push for the project. I managed to acquire a battalion eager to test the new type of armor, but there was a slight miscalculation. The armor was too responsive and as a result moved too fast for the wearer. The wearer was simply not fast enough or strong enough to use the armor effectively. Soldiers were too used to the 'hard suits' and I was left with a problem. I needed soldiers who were stronger and faster than the average American G.I. Luckily I had scrapped assets of the US American Son program still on ice from previous years."
"American Son?" Nathan asked. George's gaze darkened once again. George sighed and stood from his seat in the sofa. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. He began pacing around the sofa.
"This having explain everything is getting old. I hope you're not annoyed with all this, old sport, but it is necessary for the job I have prepared for you." Job? "I hate long lectures. You're sure you haven't tired from this?" George was facing the painting, only a few feet away from it.
"No. No. Please, continue." Nathan murmured, rubbing his temple with his right hand.
"When the United States of America divided itself among thirteen commonwealths, the federal government was essentially split into its various departments as well. Questions began to arise on which department would hold power in the federal government. Obviously it is the executive branch of government but it wouldn't work too well if there were thirteen separate commonwealths distributing its resources differently and enforcing laws independently. There needed to be a way to bypass the voting system of old. A way where the government could always have a President whose first thought was for the safety and benefit of his country. They the Office of Secret Services drafted and proposed the American Son program. At this points the potent and fully concentrated FEV was still being tested and the proposal was rewritten to include the FEV into its indoctrination. The idea was that it would take the military's best troops and officers; the basis was out patriotism and our aptitude for combat. Of course, the external skills and personality traits were all they screened for. They also took countless blood tests to ensure that only the best genetic prospects could be selected for Office. They took 1,500 soldiers from each branch of the military and tested the concentrated FEV by infecting us all with it. Not a single person died from it. No one became heavily mutated, there were few complications. The only complication I am currently aware of after researching into the research files personally, was the augmentation and transformative process of FEV infection was one man had grown a full two feet in height, but one of his legs became horribly mangled and deformed by the transformation. However, though physically impaired, he managed to pass the examinations and screenings and never washed out of the program. He was not chosen to serve in Office, much to his dismay, but he still performed quite well."
"So the FEV didn't turn anybody into Super Mutants?" Nathan pressed.
"No. Like I said, they have the diluted form, where countless other chemicals were added by West-Tek scientists and Vault-Tec engineers to try to recreate similar effects. To elaborate of the transformation process, it essentially performed similarly to how a Super Mutant becomes a Super Mutant. Muscle mass is increased dramatically and the person retains cognitive functions. However, the pure FEV actually improved such functions to unprecedented and therefore uncharted levels. Personally, the physical transformations for myself were not as dramatic as many of my fellow soldiers, but my brain however," he tapped his head as he turned away from the portrait. He held his right hand on the hand of his bride in the portrait while tapping his temple with his left.
"I was always at the top of my class, and I do believe that I will let details regarding my transformation stay there. Nevertheless, each prospect had been transformed and was ready for a field test. However, thought Vault-Tec existed and were in the middle of constructing Vault 87 and other various vaults all over the country, the federal government neither had the resources to construct a new training center nor the funds to contract Vault-Tec with constructing one. So President Wilson turned to the NORAD facility. While it would still serve as the President's fallout shelter should nuclear war become a possibility it would also serve as the home of the American Son program." George was back at the minibar pouring himself another drink. Jesus, how much can this guy drink?
"The maze that you and your team had unfortunately been cornered into, was the easier part of the qualifications. After passing and proving your worth physically and mentally, OSS agents would test you patriotism to its breaking point. I will not disclose what I had to endure during the second stage of the program." George sipped his scotch. "Nor will I ever." Hie dark gaze turned to Nathan. Nathan felt a chill travel down his spine. George blinked and checked his Pip-Boy.
"Good God, is it already that time of day?" George asked. His friendly persona had returned, gone was the dark George who was explaining his past to Nathan. "Anders, notify the staff that Mr. Hale will be staying in the Presidential suite and please bring Mr. Hale, his companions. Ensure that they are comfortable, unfortunately, they may need to stay with us for a prolonged amount of time." George downed his drink and wiped his hands with hand towel. George stepped away from the minibar and made for the exit door.
"George." Nathan called.
"Yes, Mr. Hale?" he responded, turning his torso mid-stride.
"Why are you telling me all this?" Nathan asked. George paled and scowled as if the very question offended him. "You will know in due time, Mr. Hale. Good day." George strode out quickly closely followed by Anders. Another man replaced Anders and the doors slammed shut.