1255th Intel. Group E.
HEAVY RECON / SIGNAL CORPS.
CIVIL MANAGEMENT PROJECTS DIV. 9
Daybreak seemed early, the low horizon giving way to the fantastic first light, as the birds in the area began their ritual chatter. In the first light they could fully see just how pathetic this camp really was. It reminded Wolfe of some gutter back in Chicago, somehow its nasty contents dumped out here spilling in every direction highlighted by daybreak. The camp was filled with old feeble men and young boys. One or two women. Pathetic. He wanted to exterminate them on site out of pity. They sure had the piss taken out of them from whatever the hell was out here. That was obvious. Realistically he just about suspected this is how every Legion camp in the area looked. Those stories he had heard about fully regimented camps, with war drums banging, impossible feats being accomplished, as they swept through the land terrorizing and murdering anyone who couldn't be folded into their ranks, were just that, stories. This was reality, he told himself. Good old ragged beggars with pointy sticks: reality.
They took their time getting up, inspecting each of the suits of APA individually, entering them one by one setting a perimeter and then finally agreeing to meet the Centurion in his main tent as he requested. Only Wolfe was allowed to enter. And thus began a short discourse of the recent happenings.
Wolfe entered the tent and was surprised to see the quality of its furnishings. A large colorful Persian rug covered the floor and the lighting was a series of chandeliers and oil candelabras set around the room with a circular copper fire pit providing the heat which seemed to add an unexpected pleasant warmth to such a cold and impartial world; a little bit of welcomed texture against the backdrop of a what seemed like metaphor of a (nuclear) fire which once raged, now just a bed of coals perfect for roasting a leg of goat. There were a couple chase loungers as well as a few ottomans and in the center was his own large "throne", a large oak chair draped with thick furs and flanked by two small end tables with an assortment of ointments and incense burners. There was also a pair of large Legion attack dogs laying down on either side of the Centurion.
"Please, take a seat and make yourself comfortable. I'm not sure if you're able to do so in that power armor." Apollo observed.
"If it's all the same to you I'll stand." Wolfe replied.
"Of course." Apollo took a deep breath, prepared to discuss things which on any other terms would be considered treasonous, and punishable by death.
"All I know is that they have been abducting our people for decades." He began. "Not only our camp, but many of the other Legion Camps in the area have been similarly hit, their children and women all taken." Apollo explained. "Of course it has always been so. Even when I was a child growing up, I can remember the stories my own mother would tell us. Of course, we all thought they were just tales as a mother tells their child to keep them safe, to avoid danger. It had never occurred to me how close, or how real the danger really was. This entire area is cursed. There are many creatures that roam this mesa, unchecked and wild."
"Not surprising. It's a well known fact the wasteland is full of wild and unexplained shit."
The Centurion ignored Wolfe and continued with his explanation.
"No. Not like these. We have tracked the aggressors paths in the past, all of which the scent or tracks are lost over land, or they end up leading us to dead ends, with no possible leads as to where they originate from. It is as frustrating as it is confusing in all honesty. Maybe with your technology you will see something we have overlooked. Although I hold little in the way of hope of recovering any of our lost or missing members. Anyway. I leave you with that. If you need anything or something comes up. You know where to find me."
"Not so fast." Wolfe drew his 14mm pistol and pointed it at the liar before him.
Sensing the danger, the Legion dogs stood and began to growl. "There's a lot you're not telling me. Let me explain how I know."
He reached into his satchel and produced a holodisk.
"Stand down your mutts or I'll put a bullet through their fucking skulls."
Apollo complied, calming the dogs with a treat as they returned to laying beside him.
"Our main battalion had recently come from the Cheyenne Mt. Complex. I'm sure you know of the mechanical menace here in the West. The records it kept and that we received and recovered showed that you and all your Legion cohorts were all in contact with the Calculator to some capacity. Of course the reasons are unclear what dealings or allegiance you all had arranged with the Calculator in the first place. It all seems more than suspicious. The Legion doesn't strike me as the type to be in league with such a technological foe. So I know whatever deal you all had going is nullified, since we've taken full control over the complex and the Calculator is reduced to scrap. So humor me. What's the connection?"
The Centurion sat back trying to play it off, and solely based off a physical first glance he was doing a fantastic job. However, the bio-sensors in Wolfe's hemet confirmed this was only a very well-played lie. Elevated heart-beat, rise in temperature, irregular breathing pattern. He grinned to himself. Thinking of ways to make him suffer. Maybe he'd chop him up and feed him to his loyal hounds.
He slowly reached for his pistol when suddenly the tension was abruptly interrupted by a commotion outside the tent.
"Wolfe! You're gonna like this!"
It was Frank, a Knight scout of the unit.
In a flash the tents flaps were thrown open and a man in a well fitted groomed outfit was tossed on the floor in front of Wolfe and Apollo. There was no hiding the physical horror of Apollo now as his face turned pale as the moon as if he had just seen a ghost, and sweat began to run down the sides of his temples gasping for air in confusion.
It was immediately obvious to Wolfe, the Enclave outfit couldn't have been more clear.
"I knew it. This is just surprise central now, isn't it. Have you I.D.'d the man?" Wolfe asked Knight Frank.
"Roger. 2nd Lieutenant Miller."
Wolfe grabbed the officers hand calmly overpowering him in his APA and without hesitation tore one of the mans fingers off with his own hand as he let him scream in pain and confusion. Wolfe then grabbed an iron from the fire in the tent and cauterized the wound, letting the man momentarily pass out. He always felt that he was one of the best interrogators on base.
"Go and make sure the camp isn't under surveillance. Take Viper and Rhodes and the Humvee and do a quick sweep of the area. Have everyone else lay low, out of sight."
"Roger."
"Now, before he comes to, what do you have to explain to me?" He asked turning back to the Centurion. "And believe me, you'd be surprised how much the body can endure before a person dies."
Apollo scoffed, used to such torture, as he himself was of a similar attitude.
"Coincidence maybe? Don't you even dare try to insult my intelligence. Although the connection is becoming clearer. What. Is the Enclave the Liaison between you and the Calculator? In exchange for human slaves or whatever the fuck the deal was? Seems to make sense. I just don't understand what the Calculator could provide a bunch of caveman with no inclination for progress, especially when tech is involved."
Apollo shrugged. This time in earnest, unsure about what to make of the situation, Wolfe sharing similar sentiments. It was Occams Razor. A simple explanation would do, if only he could come up with one. It was almost comedic, the seriousness being lost on him, as he tried not to lose focus. He began to wonder if there was any serious threat in the area, or if it was just a bunch of clowns causing mischief and fabricating everything to appear to be more of a threat than they could even lie about being. The mutilations were just a farce to scare the uneducated tribals and the abductions were just there to explain away desertions because who'd want to live under these conditions. All of it just to cover up the embarrassment. Fuck. They wasted resources on this mission! FUCK! Being tricked by these sub par wannabes. It made his blood boil. But wait. The Enclave. They were far from being the laughing stock of the wastes. Unless his time being locked in his own bunker underground they too had lost their prestige and were reduced to another company more myth than fact.
In desperation he cut open the officers uniform. A loose laser pistol fell from its shoulder holster with a few EC's. He felt a little bit more reassured about this damn awful conspiracy which only seemed to be a guise for intelligent beings (yet to be seen or proven to be real) having a laugh at the ridiculous premise of this entire backwards allegiance, which made no sense.
"So tell me you work for them and not the other way around." He said to Apollo.
"It's a bit more complicated than that I'm afraid."
"How complicated can it be?"
"What's your price Major?"
"Excuse me?"
Apollo walked over to a large 5ft x 3.5ft chest and removed the furs which covered it. He took a key from around his neck and unlocked the chest opening it, revealing a fully stocked reserve of pure gold bars, easily in the range of 100 million. He was unsure what to say to that. Was he bribing him?
"There are things in this world which don't need to be investigated any further. To do so would be folly. Return to your superiors, tell them this is what you've found, they will be more than pleased to learned you've funded your entire chapter for the next few decades." He closed the chest and locked it. "Or you can continue your little investigation, and see how swiftly you bring about destruction to everyone you know, or will ever know"
"Or I can exterminate this entire camp, take the gold and continue the investigation."
"You would think that, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah? Whats stopping me?"
There was a moaning as the Enclave Officer began to wake up.
"You crazy sonofabitch!" He mumbled.
"Where's the rest of your unit hiding out?"
"Your unit killed them. I'm the only one they kept alive!"
"Hm. I believe that." Wolfe wistfully said aloud.
"Big mistake! You have no idea the things you've set into motion! You! Centurion! What have you told them!?"
"Me? I've said nothing you dolt. What is there to say anyway? Whats done is done. Has been done for some time."
"So, what's your story?" The Centurion asked.
"HA! HAHAHA! I am with the Enclave, or WAS with the 160th Base Security Forces."
"What are you doing out here then?" Apollo asked laughingly.
"You lying asshole! I knew you were keeping the truth from me!" Wolfe interjected
"It's of little consequence." Apollo calmly replied.
"Since we're all fucked, I suppose I can tell you, and this Brotherhood SAVAGE this little bit of intel…We were in full retreat-"
"What do you mean retreat?!" Apollo's demeanor drastically changed at hearing the words from the Enclave Officer. "What have you morons done this time?!"
"It's bad. They've become bored with the subjects, and their experiments seemed to have hit a wall."
"Those disgusting perverts! I knew this wasn't going to work!"
"You! Brotherhood Dog! How many men do you have?"
"Eight."
"We're screwed. We were your only hope at escape. Now we're cut off."
Wolfe looked confused at Apollo, looking for answers.
"He's right Major. You've dug your own grave by killing those men."
"Cut off from what exactly?"
"From our reinforcements at Los Alamos and Sandia military Labs. We have a sizable force located at both instillations. Not that it matters. The mag rail lines connecting those bases are probably being looked at for possible invasion points as we speak. Unless we find a way of contacting them and blowing the tubes."
"What are we dealing with exactly?" Wolfe asked.
"Do you want to tell him or should I?"
"Be my guest."
"You might want to call in the rest of your squad. They'll want to know what they're up against."
Wolfe recalled the unit to the tent, prepared to listen to the Enclave Officer's intel.