Non faciat malum - Not to do Evil
'I hate super mutants.' Thea sighed as they trudged out of Everett Estates a few hours later.
'I, personally, hate super mutants with rocket launchers.' Hancock replied, cradling his scorched arm to his chest.
'Are you going to be okay?' She asked, concern riding her voice as she stared at the clutched appendage. The explosion had cut deep - but Hancock refused to let her properly look at it. She wasn't much of a medic, although she'd picked up things here and there from Curie.
'Nothing a little radiation and some chems won't fix.' He replied easily.
'Ghoul physiology is amazing.' Nick chipped in. 'Wish that worked on this old shell.'
'You ever try?' Hancock asked with a teasing smile. 'It's one hell of a trip.'
At least Thea could check one thing off her to-do list she mused as her companions bantered. The mutants in Everett Estates - and the raiders before them - had proven to be a prolific problem. That problem had been put down, but not without a heavy fight. She didn't think she'd ever stop wincing whenever she saw a rocket launcher.
Dogmeat was up ahead, sniffing the ground extensively and occasionally whining. He seemed to be confused about which way they'd gone.
'What's up, boy?' Thea asked in concern. 'You tired?'
The dog whined - possibly a yes, possibly a no. He paced back and forth restlessly.
'Poor mutt seems lost.' Hancock noted.
'We're still very close to the water. He might be having trouble picking up the scent.' Nick offered.
Thea stood and looked around the area a mile or two out of Everett Estates. Which way would they have likely have gone? Dogmeat seemed conflicted about which trail to follow. It was entirely possible - and more than a little likely - that they would have gone to the water and then doubled back to find another route - or shelter. But what would they have aimed for around here?
She spotted a half-rusted sign almost falling off the poles further up the left path, splashed with chipped green paint. Irish Pride Industries Shipyard 1 Mile.
Irish Pride - would Preston have gone there? It would be the nearest shelter after Everett Estates. They hadn't cleared out all the Mirelurks the last time they'd been in there - there had been a lot of them - and The Castle Incident was still firmly rooted in both their minds but it seemed the most likely outcome.
'Lets check out the shipyard.' She said absently.
Irish Pride Industries fences had long ago rusted away. You couldn't tell where the compound started or where it finished. The building itself had survived relatively well, all things considered - She remembered. The first time they'd come to Irish Pride after hearing about the mirelurk problems.
Surprisingly, it hadn't taken much persuasion for Preston to agree - reluctantly, mind you - to accompany her on this excursion. After she'd explained about their missing person and the rise of the aggressive mirelurk nest. He wasn't happy about it - her either, come to think of it. She hated mirelurks more than Deathclaws any day. You could detour around Deathclaws after all - but the missing person outweighed the reluctance.
Upon investigation, however, Rory Rigwell was not missing - and was definitely not sane. He was dead through his own misguided efforts with the local wildlife.
'So this guy was trying to make pets out of mirelurks?' Hancock asked in the act of glancing around the empty, dilapidated office space they'd come through as Thea worked on the lock to the inner shipyard.
'Was.' She agreed absently as she worked. She remembered the slightly Gaelic sounding lilt that had come from the speakers hooked up around the offices with positive messages for his affectionately called Murkies. It was all so sad, really. Sad and highly delusional.
'Rather a poor choice of career.' Nick agreed. 'I bet he's wishing he raised birds right about now.'
Thea paused and turned to look at Nick, both eyebrows raised in surprise. 'That was a rather dark comment.'
'I am capable of them, you know.'
She considered that and shrugged before turning back to the lock. 'Why won't this turn?' She murmured to herself. 'I know I've got the angle right-'
Hancock moved towards the office filing cabinets and began rooting around the contents before he pulled out a rusted but still deadly looking kitchen knife and murmured 'Why in the world would you have this in here?'
Thea and Nick turned to look at him as he dangled the blade with a quirked eyebrow. 'Coworker disputes?'
'Would be one hell of a dispute.' Nick noted.
'Wouldn't surprise me. Most of my clients could have been the definition of coworker dispute.' Thea murmured and turned back towards the obstinate lock. She cursed as her pin snapped and reached up to her hat for another when Nick reached out and turned the handle easily, pushing the door open as Thea teetered to balance her weight. 'You really need to check the door's open first, kiddo.' Hancock snickered as he dropped the knife back down into the cabinet.
Thea gave an embarrassed laugh. 'Ah, good point.' She stood up and rubbed the back of her neck absentmindedly before she reached down and grabbed Firecracker. 'I suppose Preston must've come in from this side. Let's find those three.'
Dogmeat barked eagerly and raced on in ahead.
The place was eerily silent and pretty dark. She knew that most of the nests had been confined to the space under the boat currently in dry-dock. The three people, plus dog moved slowly through the kitchenette and into the locker room on the other side without incident.
'You think they're in here?' Hancock asked as they moved cautiously into the larger workshop. They stalled, Dogmeat growling as one by one, the large spotlights dotted around the room turned on and swung to the top of the boat.
An unfamiliar voice answered his query. 'They aren't, I'm afraid. A shame. I would have loved to have seen Garvey again. We set up this lovely reunion just for him, after all, but since you're here...'
Thea turned to look up at the top deck of the tug-boat currently in the dock that the speaker was standing on. The spotlights lit up the prow of the ship - and him - in an eerie silhouette.
'Welcome to the Shipyard, Ms Shapiro. I'm Clint.' The figure on top of the boat indicated the space around her. Green-clad Gunners were emerging from the offices and stairs around them - surrounding them from every angle.
Thea ignored that for now. If they had wanted the group dead straight away, they could have picked them off from the shadows - or tried to, anyway. The one on top of the boat seemed to be the one leading them, so she focused most of her attention on him.'You know who I am?' She asked, squinting past the lights. The name sent warning bells clanging through her head, but she couldn't think why.
'You're the leader of the Minutemen. The bringer of hope to the wasteland. Poor Preston never really understood that the world wasn't going to get better and that helping people - giving them hope - well it was really only putting off the inevitable and getting people killed in the process. I must admit, you look better in that armour than the former occupant was said to.'
Clint. She recognised the name. She knew she'd heard it somewhere - from someone. It was on the tip of her tongue - who was he?
'The world belongs to the strong - those who take control. Preston never really felt comfortable with that - he always liked to insist that the good of people would win. That they were grateful for the help. I've seen people, Ms Shapiro. They're never good and they're never grateful.'
Wait - Preston had mentioned him, hadn't he? He'd been with the contingent sent to Quincy. He'd been the one that had aided the Gunners in taking the settlement from the minutemen.
She felt her hands tighten on her gun.
People were always grateful, but what she'd come to understand was that it was always underlined with the fear. Fear of what next the wasteland would throw at them, fear that because they had nothing - The Minutemen wouldn't come. They had fear that the next attack would not be something so easily repelled. Fear that next time - their crops wouldn't recover.
Patently, Clint was looking for the wrong kind of gratitude. Preston had never sought any of that. He would have been happy just to see a smile on a weary farmer's face. There were many times that Preston had asked her to postpone their next engagement so he could help with the repair of machinery/defences/crop damage and every time she'd been struck by how earnest he was to help them. If Clint couldn't be happy with that kind of gratitude - he didn't deserve to have been one of them.
Clint indicated a boy knelt in front of him that she'd entirely failed to see until that point - hands tied behind his back and on his knees. The boy looked about seventeen and scared. She could hear him murmuring, pleading with the man behind him as Clint spoke to her. 'Junior here's been telling me a lot of tales about your little friend, Preston. Seems he's been causing problems for my lads and that won't do.'
The laser pistol that he pulled from a hip holster glinted evilly in the bright light. Thea's heart clenched as she realised what he intended and that she couldn't stop the inevitable.
'Here's what happens to the weak, Ms Shapiro.'
The shot echoed in the large room so loudly it made her jolt. The back of the kid's head exploded into blood and viscera and the body toppled forwards, through the gap in the railing. His body barely avoided falling into the mirelurk nest, which she considered a mercy. Instead it hit the ground in front of her with a muffled thump and twitched.
His face - she doubted she would ever forget the look on that boy's blood-splattered face. How fearful he looked, even in death - and how those unseeing eyes seemed to still retain the look of mute pleading in them that whispered please, don't let this happen.
'Sonofabitch.' Hancock hissed angrily. She could see he'd become just as worked up by the needless waste of life as she had been.
Nick too, seemed to be appalled by his actions, judging by the set of the Synth's jaw. 'This guy needs taking down.'
If she had to go through every single one of these Gunners, she would. She didn't want a fight - she had Preston, Danse and Strong to find - but it looked as though there was no avoiding this. Savagely, she didn't want to avoid this. She wanted to put an end to this madness right here and now. If they wanted a fight - they would get one. She had plenty of anger, frustration and worry to work out of her system and a kid who had pleaded so desperately not to die to avenge.
A/N: So my plotbunny Clint - maybe I should name him Clint Jr at this rate? - sat on my shoulder and twisted this out of me - because we needed a climax for the whole Gunner chase thing. They blew up a bridge to try and kill Preston, Danse and Strong. They tried to invade Everett Estates to look for them. I don't think they'd give up just because they got beaten back and I really, really wanted Thea to meet and be repulsed by Clint. I don't know if I've ever discussed this before - but I never really planned on the Gunners being a huge part of this. It was a friend of mine who put me on to the potential. This is actually a two-parter chapter because without the Authors Note alone the first half of this reaches almost 2,000 words and I generally hate updating more than that for fear of boring my audience (and the editing alone would kill me!) so the second part will come around when I consider it about as well written as this half.
As always, a thank you wave to my wonderful reviewers, watchers and favouriters, new and old! You guys are the reason this fic keeps going!