"Get someone to compile a report of all known and suspected drug distributors in the territory. We need new revenue, and we can put out a purer product, and create jobs."
Marcus said sitting behind his desk, and looking through some papers on initial leads to the Institute.
"You're condoning drug use?" Augustus asked Marcus.
"No, but if they're going to do it anyway, we might as well make money."
"That's twisted, Marcus."
Marcus eyed him.
"That's a weird way to say 'Sir'. There are no current laws against it, and there may never be. Someone is going to make money off of this, and we need revenue."
Augustus was silent for a moment before saying, "What do you intend to do with it?"
"Several things." He said, still looking through his papers.
"Like what?"
Marcus sighed loudly.
"I intend to give money to people in Diamond City to 'persuade' them on the McDonough issue. I also intend to offer local markets and farms the surplus of money. Local markets selling weapons, I want manufacturing costs lower and sale prices heightened to start making money for the local economy. Selling to anyone outside Minutemen jurisdiction that is. And farms to use the money to create extra food for the Minutemen ranks, and caloric rich foods for the children and teens of the Commonwealth so we have better fed recruits."
"Shouldn't the General and the bureaucrats handle things like that in the form of policies?"
"I'm just doing what I wish someone, in my position, would have done back west...maybe then we wouldn't have had so much trouble with the Legion." His words were cold, intentionally.
"Seems good at face value." Augustus replied.
"That's the only value there is."
"Still seems a little twisted somehow..does the General know?"
"The General shouldn't be bothered with every little thing we do."
Augustus again became quiet. "Does the Colonel know?"
Marcus peered at him.
"No, same deal."
"I'll have Brewster compile a report."
"No, have someone else do it."
Augustus leaned back now, clearly frustrated.
"Who? We don't have anyone else."
"Pay a civilian." Marcus flipped through paperwork, jotting notes down.
"Civilians are unreliable, and you know it."
Marcus slammed the papers on his desk, breathing loudly.
"I'll do it myself." He stood, Augustus remained still and watched his commanding officer exit.
XXXXXXXX
Marcus walked briskly through the courtyard, donning his tan coat. As he ran his hand through his dark hair to place his hat, Pope came jogging up.
"Sir!"
"What is it, Pope?"
Marcus stopped, his rifle bouncing about from the lack of motion. He feared he would get another 'Murkwater' report.
"Sir, the First is going to be running a selection assessment here for recruits chosen as good candidates."
"And?" Marcus asked looking at him blankly.
"They told me to tell you Sir, also that Major Shaw and another R.O.(radio operator) would be coming here to accompany them for the time being."
"So, it's a boot camp?"
"Yes sir, of sorts, but not exactly because it's for highly qualified recruits."
"Pope, was is all this guff?"
"That's just what they told me, sir." The PFC said, standing with his arms behind his back.
"Fine, thank you." He said making his way, again to the exit.
XXXXXXXX
It wasn't often he found himself in Goodneighbor, but this time he couldn't help it. Even though Fred Allen wanted to babble on and on, Marcus cut straight to the point.
"What's your production rate?"
"I make anywhere from one to three batches a day, depending on how I feel that day man."
Marcus looked around the almost vacant hotel lobby.
"Alright, can you 'feel' like making four a day if you were given a little incentive?"
"Like what, man?"
Marcus found himself annoyed.
"Caps. I'll give you one and a quarter times market value for every GOOD batch you make. Notice I said good, let me be clear..don't half ass this, and I won't half ass your incentive. You produce for me, I'll have it sold as the best there is, and you'll make a killing. I'll send transporters weekly to pay and take."
"Uhhh, doesn't sound like a bad deal I guess."
"Good, I'll have someone here tomorrow with pay to pick up what you've made so far. And if it's good, our business will continue."
"Alright man, whatever you say."
As Marcus walked away he looked back, "Expect quality checks Fred."
The man nodded and Marcus exited the building, intent on leaving Goodneighbor as fast as possible. Something, however, caught his attention. Something one of the druggies outside said that Marcus barely overheard. "...girl...slavers..."
He stopped dead in his tracks, and executed an almost perfect in stride right face, bee lining it straight to the group.
"Excuse me, what did you say miss?"
The ghoul stood from her cardboard mat, cocking her hips to one side with her hand resting on her side.
"What did I say, Minuteman?"
"Please don't play with me, what did you say?"
"What's it worth to..."
Marcus knew where she was going, digging out ten caps to pay for information. Something he was already quite used to.
"Ten caps? That's it?" She asked, seemingly astounded that was all.
Marcus flipped back the skirt of his coat, revealing his sequoia, now with a firm hand on it.
"It's ten caps for you, or whatever you have on you plus ten caps to anyone else."
True fear filled her eyes, so much so that she stuttered a little when she spoke.
"F-f-four slavers came here earlier and took a girl. S-she was pretty new and d-didn't have any friends so n-n-no one tried to stop them."
"Which way did they go?"
"I-I don't know, all I heard was they said they'd s-s-stop at a Somerville before they left."
Marcus nodded, and gave the female ghoul five extra caps.
"Thank you." Marcus trotted away.
The drug business would have to wait; Marcus had to get to the Castle. He didn't want to take them on alone, and Augustus was the closest thing to a friend he had.
XXXXXXXX
"Augustus! Get your weapons!"
"Situation!?" Augustus shot up, grabbing his rifle.
"Sidney and his group were slavers, they kidnapped a girl from Goodneighbor, they're in Somerville, let's go!"
Marcus turned to leave, and Augustus paused.
"What are you doing?"
"Why don't you radio Somerville garrison?"
"I set Pope on it, but I gave the officer there a special order to patrol farther and more often. They may not even be there."
Marcus secretly cursed himself for that, even though it was right at the time, but it was very inconvenient right now.
He nodded and followed.
"Pope!?"
"No response, sir!" His young radio operator reported.
As they jogged together, Marcus had the overwhelming feeling his partner hesitated because he didn't think the cause was righteous. Marcus despised slavery, and battled it for years in the Mojave. Augustus, on the other hand, worked the other side. He enslaved, dozens of innocent people. Maybe Marcus was right when he said Augustus couldn't outrun his sin.
"You have a problem with this?"
"What? Killing?"
"Killing slavers...is this to righteous for you?"
"To righteous? This is my duty, sir. Whether it's to 'righteous', as you put it, is not my concern. Slavery is illegal here, and I'll uphold it." He responded, huffing.
It was a satisfactory enough for Marcus, even if he didn't believe it. Forty five exhausting minutes later, Somerville was in sight.
AN: Alright, so I'm predicting that we'll come to a close on this within the next 7-10 chapters. Hope everyone is enjoying the ride. As always, leave a review, good or bad! Thanks for the time.