Chapter Summary: The companions clear Cottonwood Cove and prepare for their trip to Fortification Hill.

Chapter 16: Days Like This

After leaving Camp Forlorn Hope, the companions made a point to take a quick detour to Ranger Station Delta to update their radio security codes. The comm officer seemed more annoyed at the inconvenience of changing the codes than anything else. No one but Tech Sergeant Reyes seemed to think that radio security was terribly important.

While they were there, they spoke with Ranger Pason about one of the strange reports.

"Legion Super Mutants?" he repeated, obviously confused. "I never filed a report like that."

"A report was filed from this station that said Legion Super Mutants wiped out a patrol," Beth said, pointing to the line on the paper Reyes had given her. "Does anyone else here file official reports?"

"No, I'm the only one, but the Legion doesn't have Super Mutants. A patrol was killed a few days ago, but that was due to a mishandled grenade."

"Okay, I'll let Sergeant Reyes know. Thank you for your time."

"Ma'am." Pason tipped the corner of his wide-brimmed hat to her and walked away.

"Well, at least we know we're not going to be accosted by any Super Mutants wearing sports equipment," Beth said with a small laugh.

"At least there's that," Boone replied. "But someone made that report. I'd like to know who it was and why." He hoped that it was just someone's idea of a joke, but it was also possible Legion spies were attempting to cause chaos within the NCR. He knew first-hand how important accurate and clear communication was. The lives of real soldiers and civilians depended on the quality of the intelligence the brass reported. Given enough bad intel, entire battles could be lost, even one as critical as the next battle for the Dam.

"We'll keep looking into this, when we can. One thing at a time, though."

"Right. Don't want to get distracted." They had other priorities right now. Yet something about all this kept nagging at him, as though part of him knew there was more going on.

The companions continued south with Beth following Boone's lead, letting him set the pace. As they walked, he grew increasingly solemn. He had walked this way before. This time it would be different, though: he was prepared and he had Beth by his side. There was a very good chance that they wouldn't make it through this, but that felt much less inevitable than it had at Bitter Springs.

Even without a map, he could tell they were getting close and he felt an uncomfortable clenching in his stomach. When he saw the sign for Cottonwood Cove in the distance, he stopped and turned to his companion. "We're near the Legion camp now. I've...been here before," he said in a pained voice.

"Before?" she repeated quietly. "This is where...?"

He nodded and took a deep breath to calm himself. If they were going to have any chance, he needed to keep his thoughts focused and not let his emotions take over. "You ready for this?"

"We need to at least do some scouting first," she answered. "See what we're up against before we go in guns-blazing."

"Fine. Up on the ridge," he said, pointing up to the left on the hill. "We can get a look at the camp from there." Taking the long way around, so as not to be seen, they made their way up to a small open structure near a wooden sniper platform. This wasn't here the last time, he noted. The NCR must have built it to keep an eye on the Cove and the Legion activity coming across the river. Unslinging his rifle, he peered through the scope to survey the area. The road to the Cove was only patrolled by a few soldiers instead of the dozens that had been there previously. The central part of the camp was also sparsely populated, not swarming with crimson like before.

Boone stole a glance at the balcony of the main building—that cursed place. It was the last place he saw Carla. It was also a place he saw over and over in his sleep. His stomach lurched and a lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to breathe.

There was no auction today. Of all things, he was most grateful for that. That was not something he could stand to see again.

"There aren't nearly as many as before," he finally said in a choked voice.

"Let me see." Leaning over and looking through the scope herself, she confirmed, "Yeah, that's manageable, if we're careful. They must have sent most of them closer to the Dam. If they did the same with the Fort, we might actually be able to do this." She paused a moment, then let out a small gasp. "There's a woman and two kids down there."

"What?"

"There, in the fenced area next to the two-story building."

Taking the scope back, he looked toward where Beth had indicated. As she said, there were three people inside a pen in rags with slave collars around their necks. He watched as a legionary seemed to be taunting the captures by throwing small bits of food inside the cage for them to scramble for, as though they were nothing but animals to him. "We need to move. Get those people out of there." Maybe he couldn't save his wife and child from this place, but he and Beth could save those people.

"Let's go."

"I've got your back."

This time went much like it had in Nelson, with Beth weaving between structures to sneak up on unsuspecting legionaries as Boone picked off the ones more out in the open from above, quick and methodical. The sound of his sniper rifle echoed off the rock walls of the Cove, making it difficult for the legionaries to figure out where the shots were coming from. As she proceeded on, he crept closer along the cliff, making sure to keep track of her while still staying out of sight of the enemy.

Once everything had gone quiet and it appeared that they had killed the last of the legionaries, Beth turned and gave Boone a thumbs-up and he climbed down from the hill to join her. They then methodically checked each building, looking for any hidden soldiers.

After they cleared the camp, they approached the slave pen which held the three frightened captures.

"You...you killed them," said the young man in what sounded like a mix of terror and awe. "Wha...how?"

"What are you going to do with us?" the woman asked, her voice weak and shaky.

Beth gave them a reassuring smile, which only went so far, since her face and the front of her armor were spattered with blood. "It's okay. We won't hurt you. What are your names?"

"I'm...I'm Paula. This is my son, Kenny, and my daughter, Sammy," she said, pointing to each of them in turn. "Are you with the NCR?"

"Um..sort of. I'm Beth and this is Boone. We're going to get you out of there, okay?"

The companions walked around to the gate and Beth studied it. Pulling Boone aside, she said quietly to him, "I can pick the lock on the gate no problem, but I'd rather not go fiddling with those collars if I don't have to. See if you can find keys."

He nodded to her as she pulled out her lock picks. The legionary closest to the pen looked to be the one he saw earlier with the prisoners, so he began searching him first. Boone opened a bag in the dead man's hand and saw that it was full of food scraps, much of which were obviously spoiled. He grimaced at the realization that this was what the bastard had been throwing to those people, expecting them to eat what any decent person wouldn't even feed a brahmin. By the size and placement of the hole through the slaver's skull, Boone knew it was from one of his bullets, which made the sniper smile internally.

Even though he tried not to, he couldn't help but think about Carla, about what would have happened to her had he hesitated or arrived too late. It was one of the many intrusive thoughts he had fought so often since that day. A wave of nausea flooded his insides and he took several deep breaths to push it away. "Just get the keys, dammit," he whispered to himself. Reaching into the pouch hanging from the dead slaver's side, he found a small key ring. Wiping his face with his hand, he stood up and walked back to Beth. She had already opened the gate and was checking the prisoners for injuries.

"Everyone okay?" he asked, his voice carrying a slight quiver.

She looked up at him and seemed to study his face for a long second, looking concerned. "Yeah, they'll be okay. They mostly need food and clean water."

Boone held out the keys to her, which she took with a nod and carefully unlocked each of their collars, revealing reddened and chaffed skin underneath. The way she handled the devices with practiced and steady hands, it was like she had done this before, maybe several times before.

"What will happen to us now?" asked Sammy as Beth worked to remove her collar. The girl's mother and brother rubbed their sore necks and looked to the companions, as though for guidance.

"Well, while my friend and I figure that out, you three see what supplies you can scavenge," Beth answered. "The camp's clear, so you shouldn't have any problems. The building by the dock has food. Find some bottles you can fill with river water. And each of you need a weapon. You can get them off the legionaries." She relayed these instructions very matter-of-factly. Boone recognized that this was the efficient and practical side of her that had managed to survive for so long on her own in the Wasteland. Yes, they were freed slaves, but holding their hands out of pity would not help them survive.

The family looked to each other, the three of them still seeming rather lost. Then they walked wearily toward the dock, as instructed.

Once they were out of earshot, she asked Boone, "Where do you think would be safe for them to go? Novac?"

Boone shook his head. "Too much risk of Legion and raiders on the way. They'd be better off heading to the nearest Ranger Station and getting what help they can there. Maybe they can travel with the next supply caravan to wherever they want to go."

"Good thinking." She opened up her Pip-Boy map and studied it. "Looks like Ranger Station Echo is only a couple hours walk from here."

"Um, so you know, most of the rangers there are...ghouls."

Beth narrowed her eyes at him. "So? They're not feral, right?"

"No, of course not, it's just that-"

"What's wrong with ghouls?" she asked defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just that not everyone is comfortable around them and I thought you should know before we sent these people there." He was slightly surprised at her strong reaction, as though she were personally insulted.

"Well, it's their best chance at safety right now."

"Yeah, I agree. Just thought I'd mention it." Seeing that she still seemed annoyed, he added with sincerity, "I really don't have a problem with ghouls."

This seemed to appease her and she uncrossed her arms. "Okay, then."

When the family returned, each had a small bag slung over their shoulders. Paula and Kenny each had a small handgun and Sammy carried a machete. Boone hoped that they knew how to use them.

Patiently, Beth showed them where to go on her map. "Okay, so head north through the rock passage there," she pointed. "When you reach the road, follow it. You'll see a cut in the hillside, take it east. You'll be able to see the station's antenna from quite a ways away." She then glanced to Boone. "Oh, and some of the rangers there are non-feral ghouls, but don't worry about that. Okay?"

They all nodded.

"Okay. Now you take care of yourselves," she said. "And each other."

Instructions relayed, the family trudged northwards through the passage. Boone watched them, hoping silently that they would make it safely. When they were out of sight, he and Beth returned to the sniper's nest above the Cove.

Looking at her, he saw that her hands, face, and armor were still spattered with blood from the legionaries she had taken out at close-range. "How much of this blood is yours?" he asked with concern, lifting her chin to check for injuries. She had a fresh red bruise on her cheek and a small cut on her lip.

"Not much, I don't think. Probably looks worse than it is." He handed her two stimpaks and med-x; she used the stimpaks, but left the med-x. Taking a torn piece of cloth and wetting it with water from a bottle, she started to clean the blood and dirt from her face and hands. "That was some nice shooting earlier, by the way."

"Not so bad yourself." Seeing that she wasn't getting the blood off her face cleanly, he held out his hand. "Here, let me help." She nodded and handed him the cloth. Wetting it with some more water, he gently wiped the dirt and spatter from her face, just now noticing how pretty she was under all of it. He hadn't realized before just how blue her eyes were.

As he looked at her, her freckled cheeks grew slightly pinker and she abruptly took the cloth back. "Thanks. I can do the rest." She moved to a shady spot a few feet away and drank the rest of the water from the bottle.

It was only then that Boone realized he had been staring at her and he felt his own cheeks flush. He turned back towards the Cove before she could see.

They agreed that it wouldn't be wise to charge into the Fort when it was light out. Cover of darkness seemed to be the way to go, since Boone couldn't count on being able to snipe the legionaries from above. This was likely going to be much closer quarters. Not his strong suit, but nothing he couldn't handle, he assured her. They had no idea how many soldiers they would be up against, but if they could catch most of them while they were asleep or otherwise unawares, they would have a much better chance.

While they waited for the rest of the day to pass, he insisted that she rest while he kept an eye out for any activity coming to the Cove. Mostly, he wanted some quiet time alone to think.

He would have thought returning here would have been even more difficult than returning to Bitter Springs, but something was different and he wasn't sure what it was. Thinking back to that grim September day, he remembered how alone and helpless he felt staring down at the Cove swarming with legionaries. Looking down there now, it was empty and peaceful. The sunlight reflected off the water of the river. Old boats sat on the shore. Just above the Cove, there were campers and trailers, long ago abandoned. This was never supposed to be a place to sell slaves and now it wasn't anymore. If the Legion was defeated, with hope, it would never be again.

As he continued to stare down at the camp, he heard a clicking sound and Beth mumbling. Turning around, he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Picking the lock on this case," she answered without looking up from the large metal box she was attempting to break into. "It's a hard one, but I think...I almost..." The lock let out a final click as it yielded to her expertise. "Got it!"

Having seen her pick nearly every lock she came across, as long as no one else was looking, he was decidedly uninterested. "Let me guess, more ammo for guns we don't use and other useless junk?"

"Does this look like 'useless junk'?" she asked, pulling a scoped rifle from it with a rather satisfied grin on her face. Standing up and walking over, she held it out to him.

He took it from her and looked it over. It was painted with desert camouflage and felt light, yet sturdy in his hands. "Huh, from the look of it, it's an old Gobi scout rifle. Pre-war. Pretty rare." Examining it more closely, he concluded, "It's in damned good condition."

"You should take it. If you want."

"You sure?" He had always kind of wanted a rifle like this. Plus, he had no particular attachment to the one he was already using, since he'd only had it for a little over a year.

"Yeah, unless I'm taking down a Super Mutant or a deathclaw, handguns are more my speed. I know you'll put it to good use."

"Thanks," he said sincerely, testing out the scope. "You taken down a lot of Super Mutants?" He'd seen her tackle deathclaws and she certainly seemed to know what she was doing with them.

"Oh, yeah," she affirmed emphatically. "The Capital Wasteland was crawling with them. Say what you will about the Mojave, but at least you can be reasonably certain not to meet a behemoth with a rocket launcher when you're walking down the road."

"Is that why you left? Too many Super Mutants?" He knew it wasn't. It was obvious there were things much more personal back east that she had wanted to get away from, but he wasn't sure how to ask without prying too much.

"Nah, I just needed a fresh start, you know? Find some peace somewhere. See how well that worked out?" She smirked sardonically.

"You don't like talking about the past, do you?"

"I could say the same about you."

"Fair enough."

"How about this, when all this is done, we'll sit down somewhere quiet with a bottle of Mr. House's finest whiskey and swap stories. Sound good?"

"Sounds good."

At around mid afternoon, Boone saw a small boat coming up the river, carrying six legionaries. "Spotted," he said in a hushed tone.

Beth leaned in, looking through the scope of his new rifle as she put her hand to her own weapon. "Half a dozen. Better get to them before they realize the rest of their buddies are dead."

"Hold on. They're far enough away, they won't get far before I pick 'em off. Hell, I bet I'll get four of them before they even figure out what's happening."

"Ten caps says you can't," she challenged, a playful gleam in her eye as she pulled out her binoculars.

He looked at her straight-faced, holding back a smirk. "Make it twenty."

"You're on." They shook on it and he turned back to his scope to plan out his shots as Beth watched through her binoculars.

"Me and Manny used to do this kind of shit all the time," he thought, almost letting out a laugh. He remembered how they would make bets and joke around while out in the field. It broke up the monotony of sitting for hours or longer waiting for a target to present itself. It didn't matter where they were or how serious the mission, they were always able to keep up each other's spirits. As pissed off as he still was at his former friend, he couldn't help but miss those times they had together. Why did everything have to be so fucked up?

Boone glanced over at Beth for a second before he looked back through his scope. At least he had her. They were a team now.

The boat pulled up to the dock and the legionaries began to climb out onto the wooden platform. She jumped a little when the first shot rang out. The he fired again, then twice more. Each took one of the enemy with it. The two remaining legionaries were looking around, trying to get to cover in a small shack adjacent to the dock. Taking careful aim, Boone squeezed the trigger again and one of the unsuspecting soldiers dropped, falling into the water. One more shot took out the last one, he too caught unawares, collapsing against the door of the shack. The Gobi rifle was more powerful than his previous one and the fire rate was faster, he noticed. He could get used to this.

"Damnit!" Beth exclaimed in mock frustration, snapping her fingers.

With a cocky grin on his face, he held out his hand. "Fork over the caps, Courier. And don't pretend you're not good for 'em."

Sneering at him sarcastically, she reached into her bag, grabbing a handful of caps and counted them out into his hand. "...and twenty."

The brief moment of levity was distracting them from the reality of where they were and what they were about to do. There was no way of knowing how invading the Fort was going to play out. They had been extraordinarily lucky so far and there was no telling how long that luck would last.

Darkness was falling. After dropping everything nonessential to leave behind, they moved down the hill and toward the dock. As they approached the waiting raft, Boone spoke up, "We take this boat it's probably the last one we ever take. I'm ready for that. Are you?"

Taking a breath and letting it out slowly, she nodded. "I'm ready. Caesar won't know what hit him."

"That's what the scope's for."

"'The last thing he'll never see,' right?"

"Exactly." She stepped toward the raft and he stopped her again. "Hey, listen, um...I don't know what's going to happen, so I wanted to say this now. Thank you...for everything." He wanted to say more, to tell her how much he valued her partnership. Her friendship. She was the only one who could have brought him here. If it weren't for her, he'd still be back in Novac marking time and he owed her far more than she owed him. But he never had been good with words, especially when feelings were attached, so he didn't say more.

"You're welcome." She smiled warmly. "Oh, and by the way, when we get to Caesar-and we will get to him-he's all yours."

A feeling of grim determination filled his chest. "What are we waiting for?"