Chapter 22

He saw Connor in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

Bass stood at the entrance to the kitchen.

"Why are you staring?" Connor asked.

Bass didn't budge. "Where were you the last couple of days?" Right to the point, he thought to himself.

"I was out." Connor said, coyly.

"What, are you a teenager? Where were you?"

"What's up with the interrogation?" He questioned back, as he served himself a meager breakfast on his plate.

"Call me a concerned father. Where were you?"

Connor sat down at the kitchen table, rebelliously.

"I'm not gonna ask again." Bass said with determination.

"I went into town. Sat in the bar and had a few drinks."

"In a bar? For four days?"

"What, it's okay for you to do that, but not me?"

He had him there, Bass had to admit to himself, but then Connor added, "I also went to meet a friend."

"You don't have friends Connor."

"Thanks. Your concern is now noted." Connor said, as he took a bite of his food. "What's going on? Why are you asking me all these questions?" Although, deep down, Connor knew the answer.

Bass was full of rage but he was really trying to compose himself. "I'm asking because I want to make sure that my son wasn't out meeting with an ex-Monroe Republic militia assassin, planning and plotting against me."

Connor's face was pale. He felt the blood draining from his face and his heart beating faster than he ever imagined it could. He put down his fork.

"What are you talking about?"

"Is it true?" Bass could no longer keep it inside. "Tell me now, or you are going to be using that fork to defend yourself in a moment."

Not that the fork wasn't a great defense weapon, but more because he knew he had been had, "It wasn't against you. It was to get you motivated. To get the Republic back like you promised me."

Bass was a bit speechless but he knew this was coming as well.

"Yeah, that's right. What you promised me. All these months ever since we came back from Mexico, when you showed up and took me away from my home and all of my… friends."

"That place was not your home Connor and those animals were not your friends. That guy you called a father figure would have ended up killing you sooner than you think. He was never going to make you his second."

"And you were?" Connor stood up now. Addressing his father at the same eye level. "Were you ever really planning on getting it back? Because you seem to forget what you told me. You gave me your word." Connor said accusingly.

"I had to do something to make you snap out of whatever Mexican Mind trick that guy had over you."

Connor had to slightly laugh, but he was still feeling very much betrayed, just as much as Bass was feeling.

After a beat, they stood silent, until Bass broke the silence and took a step closer.

"What did you do Connor?" Bass was afraid to hear it but he knew he had to.

"I took care of things. Made arrangements so you got the message that it was time to go."

"What kind of arrangements?" Bass said, ever now closer, right in front of Connor now, face to face.

"I knew it would need to be something big. So your ex-soldier suggested planting a bomb, but it would have to be somewhere random. Not in an obvious place like the middle of town. So, I managed to send a message to the guy on our way back from New Vegas, and I've got to admit, he did a better job than I expected."

Bass felt as if the blood was draining from his body. He needed to sit down or he was going to kill his own son.

"The camp…" Bass managed to say.

Conner smiled. "You got to admit. It was Epic!"

"You are absolutely out of your mind." Bass could lunge at him right about now, "Charlie almost died in the explosion! Shawna died. You killed innocent people Connor!"

"Like you haven't done worse." Connor said dismissively. "But of course, you always seem to choose a Matheson over your own flesh and blood."

"And Charlie?"

"I figured the only way was to remove the one Matheson that would keep you here in this damn town."

"You stabbed her?" Bass was still in some sort of shock and overwhelming anger.

"No. I knew she would recognize me so I sent the guy to do it. Told him to throw in some crap about Philly when he does it so you would never suspect me. But… How did you know it was me anyway?"

"Does it matter?"

Floods of anger flourished through Bass and a feeling came up to a boiling point within him, a feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. Sebastian Monroe; the memory, the darkness, the bloodlust, the anger, the hurt and the vengeance, all of it, came rushing.

"So, what are you gonna do now, Dad?" Connor asked with spite in his voice.

Nothing happened for a long time, or what seemed like a long time, but was only a few seconds, passed over both of them, until finally, Bass got up from his chair, took a deep breath and with all the fury and anger inside him he lurched forward in a flash and took his son to the ground.

The vicious sounds of violence thumped away within the room, as both father and son fought on the floor; blood shed from each, until again, a silence washed over… Who had won? Was anyone alive?

Suddenly, the quiet was broken with Miles' boots, as he ran into the kitchen, looking down at both men, exhausted and both barely breathing, unrecognizable.