FIFTY-FIVE
Near Nellis Air Force Base
July 16th
08:44
A nudge against her shoulder pulled En from her sleep.
"Get up," Melissa said, standing over her. "Before they wake up and start givin' you Hell for sleepin' on watch."
She checked her Pip-boy. It was an hour before they were supposed to wake the others. "Guh, Melissa," she groaned, "for a scout, you suck at telling the time."
"And for a leader, you suck at openin' your eyes."
"Huh?" She rubbed the sand from her eyes and saw Melissa was staring at something. She followed her gaze. Two people, walking towards them. "Huh. Who's that?"
"Hmph. They've got flight suits on. Look like your Boomer cobbers."
En squinted against the pale morning light. "Ohhhh yeah."
"Now, you were sayin'? About me as a scout?"
"Alright, alright, I take it back. You're the bestest scout in the whole world, Melissa."
"Say it like you mean it," Melissa insisted with a grin.
"Don't push it, you." She squinted again and recognized them now, a younger man with dark blond hair and an older one, this one with white hair. Jack and Loyal. "Yeah, I know 'em, they're okay." En's gut clenched slightly. What if they'd found Raquel? They couldn't have. They wouldn't have gone out there in the middle of the night, looking for a patch of disturbed earth. No way.
It did little to ease the tension in her belly.
With a small heart, though no one saw, she stood up and took a few steps towards Jack and Loyal. "Uh... hey. Whatcha doin' here?"
Loyal's mouth widened to a smile and the tension fell off En. "Well, missy, we figured we might as well save you the trip an' tell you what it's all about. We had a meetin' with the AFB's prominents, and Pearl agrees. You help us with the Lady, an' we'll owe you one."
"Though..." Jack added with an embarrassed shrug, "helping me out with that other matter won't hurt either."
En grinned. "Don't worry, I'm on it."
"Cool."
Loyal gave a brief confused look, then asked En, "Mind if we have a seat?"
"Oh, no, no, of course not. Uh... I'm afraid all I can offer is our most comfortable boulder, though."
"Mm."
"Or you can sit on my sleeping bag. It's okay, I didn't wee in it in my sleep." When Loyal and Jack made to sit down, she added, "At least, I think so."
They briefly froze in mid-movement, but then realized she was joking. "This is Melissa. Melissa, these are Loyal and Jack, y'know, from the Boomers.
"Yeh. Hi."
"Uh... hello, miss," Loyal said, somewhat awkwardly. "That's an... interesting haircut."
"It's horrible, but she won't let me touch it," Ringo's voice came from the other sleeping bag. "Thanks for speaking loud enough to wake my dead grandmother."
"Hey, at least you'll be able to see her again," En said.
Watkins only let out a groan and turned over, and Sunny was, predictably, far away in dreamland. Meyers clambered out of his sleeping bag, without a word, and began making coffee, his face wrinkled like it had been scrunched up all night and finally let go.
"Not exactly rise-and-shiners," Jack remarked with a grin.
"No, they're a pretty sorry-looking bunch in the morning," En agreed. "Most of them come around after an hour or two. Well, 'cept Ringo. He's grumpy all day."
"For a reason, miss En," Ringo said wearily. Then he saw Meyers was already making the coffee, in his jim-jams, and permitted himself another few minutes of lazing.
"Ennie," a nasal voice groaned from another sleeping bag. "I think your watch is like, still set on pre-War time? It's not even day yet, sheesh."
"We've got guests, Leza," En only said. "Two handsome gentlemen."
"Aw geez," Watkins let out, immediately disappearing into her sleeping bag entirely.
"God forbid that a man should see her morning face," Melissa remarked to no one in particular.
"So uh," En said. "While Mey- ... Cliff makes the coffee, care to tell us about that Lady thing?"
"Ah, right!" Loyal's eyes immediately lit up, making his face ten years younger. "The Lady." He paused for effect.
"... Yes?"
"You know we're workin' on that aircraft back in Nellis AFB, right?"
"You don't say."
"Right, well. We were a bit... cautious with you at first."
"Let me guess," En said. "You're not just trying to turn it into some nice scenery. You're making it ready to fly, aren't you?"
"I... yes," Loyal stammered, surprised. "How did you...?"
"Tch. The radio was recently repaired, the ejection seat had its straps replaced and you were coincidentally repairing the refuelling truck next to it."
Loyal and Jack exhanged a glance out of embarrassment. "Ah... well, errr... Then you know, I suppose. Haha."
En shrugged. "Wasn't exactly inconspicuous."
"Right," Jack went on, picking up Loyal's explanation. "Now, we Boomers, we know planes inside and out. There's literally nothing we don't know about planes."
"Except how to make them fly," En pointed out.
"No, no," he countered. "We know how to make them fly too."
"Really?" En asked with a grin, unable to contain herself. "So how many have you actually taken off and flown with?"
"Ahh, well..." he began, looking away. "We've um... well, we already made several aircraft um, sky-worthy?"
"Yeah," Melissa insisted. "But how many have you flown?"
"I uh... it doesn't matter whether they've flown or not, they – "
"So none?" En insisted. Loving to make people feel awkward was a character flaw.
Jack gave up. "Okay, none. Fine. But this one, we've got everything in place, everything ready. I'm telling you, this bird's gonna fly."
"So what's stoppin' you?" Melissa asked.
"Ah," Loyal took over again. "All we need is a few more things." Meyers passed him and Jack a dented cup of coffee. "Oh my, thank you. Errr, yes. A few more things."
En made a circular motion with her hand. "Yeees?"
Jack produced a paper from his jacket pocket. "A working fuel cell controller, a working altimeter, two engine coupling bypasses, and a working air recycler. And eh... three Wright T35 turboprops."
Meyers whistled between his teeth. "Quite a shoppin' list."
"Turboprops, like, the engines?" En asked.
"Yeah. We've got a few spare parts, a compressor or two and a turbine in case they need replacin', but workin' engines would be best."
En couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was ridiculous. Where the crap would she find three jet engines? The rest would already be impossible to come by, but three whole jet engines? Of that exact model? "Uh... you do know I can't just snap my fingers and have someone send over three jet engines, do you?"
Jack grinned, already ready for the question, it would seem. "No, no. Here's the part that involves you. We know where to find those parts. All we need is a way to get to them."
"You know where to find this whole scrapheap? Including three jet engines?" Melissa asked incredulously. "Mate, I've scouted pretty much this whole desert, and I've never seen – "
"That's because they're not in the desert," Jack said. "A B-52 bomber went down here, right before the war. That's where we intend to take those parts from."
Melissa snorted. "I've never seen a wreck of a bomber anywhere in the desert. Someone's been pullin' your leg, bucko."
"Only planes around here are at McCarran," Ringo added. "And they're mostly small passenger liners and stripped for scrap or parts a long time ago."
Loyal made a calming gesture with his hands. "We know. Well, we didn't know about that McCarran place, but the bomber didn't go down in the desert. At least, not in the sand."
"So where did it go down?" Melissa asked, irritated at the two men's perceived unwillingness to face facts.
Loyal held up a finger, grinning mischievously. "That bomber went down smack in the middle of Lake Mead."
"Well," Jack said, looking at Loyal. "Not the middle..."
Loyal sighed wearily. "I was just sayin' that to make it sound more dramatic."
"If it went down in the lake," Ringo said, "Chances are it'll be well preserved. Apart from all the rubber parts. And everything else that decays in water."
"Yup, yup," Loyal agreed. "But those ain't a problem. We've got enough rubber parts and dinkums to patch 'em all up."
"So what, you want me to dive into the lake, and unscrew all those parts underwater, what?" En asked. "I can't breathe water, you're aware of that, right?"
Loyal chuckled wheezily. "Yes, yes. Jack?"
The younger Boomer produced the sports bag he'd been carrying.
"No solar array parts in it this time, but inflatable CO2 bags. Now you attach those under the plane's wings – we drew you a diagram to show you where you can do it without doin' damage – then you swim back to shore and," he held up a small joystick with a red button on top, "you press the detonator to inflate the bags, takin' her up to the surface. Nice an' easy."
"If it's nice an' easy," Melissa immediately said, "Why don't you do it?"
"None of us know how to dive, miss."
"And you think I do?"
Loyal shrugged. "You're from the outside. You're resourceful. I'm sure you'll find a way."
"So... the only thing that stopped you is not knowing how to dive?" Melissa asked. "You sure you really want this?"
"That's not all," Jack said. "And this is why we need you." He held up a small holotape. "This thing only fits Pip-boys, and it's the only thing we have that tells us the exact location."
"So if you insert it into my Pip-boy, and I tell you where it is, isn't that enough?"
Loyal shook his head. "No, miss. It's not that we don't trust you, but just pointing us in the right direction isn't enough. You need to actually bring her to the surface. We'll take it from there."
Jack said, "You do this for us, and..."
Loyal finished, "... you've got our support against those Legion fellers. Promised."
"Any idea how deep underwater it is?" Ringo asked, making a sour face at Meyers' (doubtless subpar) coffee.
"None whatsoever."
"Lake Mead can get pretty deep in places," Melissa said. "Not so much that you need to worry about water pressure, but deep enough to make you think twice about divin' in there without a divin' suit."
"Be a bit unfortunate if you had to have come all this way just to drown ignominiously," Meyers pointed out. "Wouldn't make for a good story."
"Wouldn't make for a good way to die either," En said. "Still. Might not be that deep. And if it is, I'll think of something."
Ringo shrugged. "Not like there's evil slaughterfish in the water. Should be safe as long as we don't take any excessive risks."
En held out her hand at Loyal. "Alright, old man. Impregnate my Pip-boy."
His face awkward at En's verbiage, Loyal produced the holotape and clicked it into the slot on En's Pip-boy. A few beeps and buzzes later, her map was updated. Melissa promptly grabbed her wrist and pulled the Pip-boy towards her, making En yelp in surprise, even though she could have known Melissa would do that – she always did when she wanted to check the map.
"Hmmm. Doesn't look like it's that far from the bank," Melissa said, frowning at the Pip-boy screen. "Might be possible to dive for it. If it's even there." Oh, proud Melissa, trying to discredit people if they knew something she didn't.
"We'll see what's what when we get there," Meyers said, shrugging.
"M-hm," En agreed. "Let's head back to the Lucky 38 first though, give that asshat House an update and see if they've got a scrapyard in Vegas."
"What," Melissa asked mockingly. "You gonna build a submarine?"
"Tch, no. But I might be able to cobble something together to let me stay underwater longer."
"Gills?"
"I don't want gills unless I also get a fish tail and red hair."
"Well," Loyal said, rising with a grimace as his knees cracked. "I'll leave you people to it. There's a long-wave transmitter in the bag as well. When the Lady's afloat, let us know and we'll handle the rest."
"Yerp."
"Mind if I wake these two?" Melissa asked with a grin, pointing at Leza and Sunny.
"Yes, Melissa," Ringo said. "Yes I do."
"Spoilsport. Blondie at least?"
He shrugged at that. "Knock yourself out."
"I heard that, Melissa," Watkins groaned. "You touch me and I'll bite your fingers off."
"Better be careful then," Melissa grunted. "She's used to havin' long fleshy objects in her mouth."
