28.
"The look on your face says it all," the man said, "You're wondering who the heck this guy is and why you should care. Well come on up and prepare to be enlightened." He extended a hand and beckoned Tom forward.
Tom made his way up the stairs and followed 'Three Dog' into an office. They sat opposite each other, a paper covered desk between them.
"Like I said, I'm Three Dog: jockey of discs and teller of truths; lord and master over the greatest radio station to grace the wastes: Galaxy News Radio. And who, may I ask, are you; seems like you came a long way, pilgrim, to meet yours truly."
Tom sighed heavily before answering, "I'm Tom Williams. I came from Vault 101, near Springvale; I'm following my father, trying to find him."
A smile slowly spread over Three Dog's face, "Williams? Your daddy's name wasn't James, by any chance, was it?"
Tom leaned forward, his eyes wide, "Yes that's him! Have you seen him! Did he come here?"
"Hold your horses, kid. Yeah you're daddy came through here: heard ole Three Dog on the radio and figured I knew what was what out here in the Capitol Wasteland: and he was right. So I filled the old man in and he split. Looks like I've got my own way of contributing to the Good Fight and he's got his."
Tom shook his head, "The 'Good Fight'?"
"Let me put it this way, kid: Imagine a picture, okay, a picture of the Capitol Wasteland; all that brick and rock: a whole lot of nothing, right? There are people out there trying to just barely make it by from day to day, fighting to stay alive and make something of what they've got. But then you've got all kinds of shit: slavers, Super Mutants, raiders… they all want a slice of pie too and aim to take it by force."
"So you use GNR to broadcast hope to people? That's your way of fighting the 'Good Fight'?"
Three Dog's smile lit up his face, "Well holy shit. Aren't you a chip off the old block; as smart as your dad. Well since you know all about the cause I guess I don't have to explain the effect."
"Please," Tom begged, "If you know anything about where my father is, please just tell me."
Three Dog held up a hand to stop him, "You want to find your Dad… you crawled out of that vault, just like him, and you fought your way over here, just like him. Only thing is he knew what was out here when he started: you didn't, which makes your feat all the more remarkable and, dare I say it, inspiring."
Tom said nothing in response, just waited for Three Dog to say something helpful.
"You're dad's a real stand-up guy and we had a great conversation and during this conversation he just happened to divulge to me his next destination. But," he held up a hand again as Tom leaned forward excitedly, about to speak. Tom sank back in his chair, calming himself down, "But, if you want to know more you're going to have to make your own contribution to the Good Fight."
Tom felt his heart sink. "You want to trade the information? You're supposed to be the good guys?"
"Nothing comes for free out here kid. You want to know where he went, then just say yes and we'll get you along your way."
After a long moment Tom felt himself give in and he said, "What's the job?"
"This ain't a job, kid: it's a public service. Galaxy News Radio is my baby: I love it, I feed it, I keep it changed, but right now nobody outside of D.C. can hear her cry. You might be aware that our signal is a little weak outside the city."
Tom nodded.
"Well there's a reason for that, and it ain't human error… not technically anyway. You see some brainless Super Mutant thought it would be funny to shoot at the shiny round thing on the side of the Washington Monument. And, as I'm sure you've guessed, that shiny round thing was our broadcast relay and now it's Swiss cheese. Without it our broadcast range is extremely limited and of course the factory that made the dishes is long gone, absolutely leveled: in other words there is no way we'll ever scavenge that part again. Normally that would mean game over, but one of the Brotherhood guys that passed through here mentioned seeing a disc in one of D.C.'s old museums. It's the dish of the old Virgo II Lunar Lander in the museum of technology. I want you to get it and take it to the Washington Monument to replace the bad one. I wouldn't lie to you; this isn't going to be easy. That whole area is crawling with mutants, but there's something in your eye, something that just seems to scream, 'I'm the one who can get shit done!' It's a look your dad had as well.
"So what do you say, kid; ready to fight the Good Fight?"
Tom looked up, "As long as you can mark where the museum is on my map, I'm in."
Three Dog let out a laugh of relief, "Ha, I sure know how to pick 'em. You're going to be the best thing to happen to Galaxy News in a long time. You got a map on that gizmo on your wrist?"
Tom nodded, brought the map up on his Pip-Boy and held it out for Three Dog. He adjusted his glasses and leaned in, marking places down on the map, "The quickest and easiest way there is if you leave through our back door and head down to the Dupont tunnels. You'll find some spray painted signs for the Brotherhood pointing the way; follow them and eventually you'll get to the museum station. I don't know what kind of stuff is crawling around down there, but stay frosty. Once you get out of the tunnels the museum should be on your right. From there it's all you kid. Here, I'll show you the back door."
After following Three Dog through the building and down a long corridor they stopped at a door. Tom could hear wind whistling past it.
"This door is unguarded," Three Dog said, "But also very hard to reach, but just as a precaution it only opens from the inside; if you try to open it from the outside it'll be locked tight. So once you step out there, there's no stepping back in this way, unless you break the door down, which I'd really prefer you didn't do. You ready?"
Tom nodded, "Let's get this show on the road."
Three Dog laughed and opened the door. Tom stepped out onto a ledge that was all that was left of that level of the building. As Tom looked around he saw that this entire side of the building had collapsed in a heap of rubble, only some small spaces of floor still standing on top of a piece of wall or pillar.
Three Dog pointed down to what looked like some kind of car park, littered with rusting vehicles, "Down there is the door that you need to go in through. Good luck kid," he called over the howling wind. Tom nodded and Three Dog closed the door behind him, cutting him off from any further words or help.
The view was spectacular, the city stretching out before him, with the wind in his ears and the occasional movement in the distance. He could even see the spire-like monument rising into the sky in the distance.
He inched his way to the right along the last vestige of floor, before making it to a larger outcrop from which he lowered himself down to a pile of jagged concrete chunks.
Eventually he cleared the building and was making his way down into the car park.
His rifle ready Tom walked slowly amongst the wrecks, keeping his ears and eyes open for the first sign of an attack, but none came.
The space was surrounded by three tiers on top of which sat the streets and buildings of the city.
Tom made his way over to the door, which faced the GNR building, and pushed it open. It was dark within and Tom switched his torch on before entering.
He spent at least half an hour (though it felt like four times that) moving through the access tunnels until he finally found himself at the maintenance room of Dupont Station. As he moved to open the door he heard heavy footsteps outside and froze. After a moment the voice of Super Mutant broke the silence, "I'm hungry! I need something to eat. Meat would be good; a brahmin head, roasted just a bit… with some-"
For a moment Tom thought the creature might have been talking to him until a similar voice behind the door cut it off, "Ha! You talk a lot… sounds funny when you talk! Like a stupid human!" the creature roared with laughter at its own wit.
"Bah, I'm going back to doing… what I was doing," the other replied.
That seemed to be the end of the conversation.
After a moment Tom checked his rifle and summoned up the courage to do what had to be done. Finally he kicked the door open and moved as fast as he could, scanning the lobby of the station and spotting the first mutant to the right, standing near an exit. He lifted the rifle and fired off three rounds as fast as he could. One missed, but the other two found their homes in the creature's neck and brain, putting it down immediately.
Tom spun around too late as the second mutant lunged forward, swinging a heavy looking plank of wood with a nail through it. No time to shoot Tom ducked and rolled out of the way as the creature swung, knocking the door off of its hinges and clattering across the room. Tom got to his feet in time to be knocked clean off of them again by the mutant, hit by the board. He was lucky in that the side that hit him was not the one with the nail poking through. He flew through the air, experiencing both pressure and weightlessness at the same time, a combination of the strike and his flight, before crashing into the wall and sliding to the floor. The mutant was lifting the plank again, this time with the nail aimed for his face.
Tom stood and lifted his rifle with both hand, blocking the blow, but not by much. As the wood of the plank struck the metal of the rifle he heard something crack and he prayed that it wasn't his weapon. His arms gave way almost completely and the rusty point of the nail was inches away from his eye as his arms shook with the strain of holding the weapon off.
Tom looked into the greedy, simple little eyes of the creature and sensed the pure, stupid malice behind them.
He let the tension in his legs go and felt his feet slide out from under him. The plank drove him down and he slipped down between the mutant's legs, lifting the rifle and firing right up between them, immediately rolling to the side as the creature leapt and hopped, howling in pain. He rolled onto his back, stopped and took aim at the creature's screaming face, blasting teeth into the back of its mouth with the first bullet and taking an eye with the second.
The creature leered at him stupidly a moment, swaying on its feet. Miraculously it took a sluggish step forward.
Tom got to his feet and aimed carefully, lining up best as he could and fired a final bullet in between the creature's sockets. Its head rocked back on its shoulder and it finally tumbled backwards, dead.
Tom checked his rifle over and found virtually no damage, save a few scratches. The first creature he'd shot had in fact had the same weapon but in far worse condition. He was able to scavenge a handful of rounds from it before turning and heading into the train tunnels.
As usual the tracks were covered in debris and trash and the air was cold and damp.
He followed a Brotherhood marker down the tunnel until he came across a spot where a makeshift wall had been set up. Tom peered through a crack in the wall to see a sleeping raider lying on a mattress.
Tom inched his way around the tin wall and peered down at the man lying on the bed: he was young, not much older than Tom, his face covered in rough facial growth.
After a moment Tom steeled himself and brought the butt of the rifle down as hard as he could on the throat of the raider. He immediately awoke, his eyes shooting open and wide and began struggling for breath as his ruptured wind pipe jammed. He rolled off of the bed with a clatter before getting to his feet. Before he could even muster the concentration to pull a weapon Tom smacked him again as hard as he could in the face and he fell over, either unconscious or dead, his nose broken, his throat bruised and blood trailing over his face.
Tom made his way down the tunnel and entered through a door. He found himself in a room whose walls suddenly became bulging rock as the corridor lead into a room that opened out into a natural cavern. Tom opened the door and immediately regretted it; bullets thundered at his feet and above his head and he threw himself back, kicking the door shut behind him. He could hear raiders cheering coldly below and the sound of footfalls on metal platforms.
He lifted the rifle and pressed himself next to the door, waiting for his attackers to crash through.
They didn't disappoint, the first raider charging through without a second thought. Tom caught the second one in the face with the butt of his rifle and they actually stumbled back and flipped over the railing of the metal walkway that lead down to the cavern floor below.
Tom turned to see the other raider already pointing a weapon at him. He instinctively ducked and watched as several bullets pounded into the raider, almost tearing them apart, spraying blood on the walls and dropping body parts on the floor.
Tom spun around to see a turret mounted to the ceiling of the cavern and aiming at him. He threw himself behind the door and kicked it shut, hearing the bullets slam against it.
"Come on pussy!" a harsh female voice called from down below in the cavern, "Fight like a man!"
There was a barred window on the right of the door and Tom spent enough time looking through it to attract the attention of the two turrets out in the cavern. He ducked down just in time, bullets sailing over his head and sparks erupting where they hit the bars.
Tom closed his eyes and concentrated hard on where he'd seen the turrets. After a long moment of silence he gripped his rifle and tensed himself.
Suddenly he sprang up, taking aim from memory and fired off two rounds as fast as he could and then ducked down. He heard the sound of something electrical frying and then exploding and an angry shriek. Tom smiled as he reloaded the rifle, slipping a full clip in. He concentrated again, then sprang up and fired. This time both shots missed, but the next shot hit home when tried again and the turret fizzed out.
Tom opened the door and looked down at the furious raider below. It was a woman, dressed in a very small amount of clothing. Tom lifted the rifle just as she lifted a strange pistol and they both pulled the triggers at the same time.
Her bullet whined past his shoulder, but his spun her sharply around. She dropped her pistol and fell to the ground.
Tom descended the winding metal walkway, making his way to the ground and carefully approached the still body.
He rolled over with his boot and saw that the bullet had gone straight through her chest… but she was still alive.
Her bloody chest rose and fell slowly, blood oozing from the wound and speckling her lips as she coughed. She looked up into Tom's eyes and Tom felt he knew what she wanted… but didn't think she could ask.
Whether it was mercy, self-preservation or just pure ruthlessness, Tom didn't know… but he obliged her unspoken plea and put her out of her misery and moved on.
Tom moved into more tunnels and soon found himself standing in a utility room amongst the bodies of several raiders and ghouls. The raiders had been picked clean of weapons and supplies, so obviously the fight had occurred some time ago.
Tom made his way through the room and soon was facing a set of stairs at the top of which were two closed, horizontal doors. Tom found the button to open them and stepped up into a room with a pool table, several chairs and beds and shelves full of empty bottles. He thought it might have been the rec room for the raiders that he'd just either killed or discovered.
He moved cautiously through the room, all too aware of the possibility that someone could come in at any moment.
Suddenly pain shot through him as a pool cue was shattered across his back and he stumbled forward onto the pool table, dropping his rifle. He turned around in time to see a woman, teeth bared, swing the handle of the shattered pool cue into his face, knocking him into darkness.
