My god… writer's block is a bitch!

Chapter 7

The Citadel was every bit as decayed a shell as Jessica had expected. The walls had been torn to rubble, and the place stank of death. The briefing back at Camp McCarren airfield had mentioned that the Citadel was occupied by Brotherhood, yet the only sign of the building's former occupants was the giant pile of rotted corpses which occupied the centre of the ring. Among the dead, Jessica could see power armour and scribes robes.

In the centre of the ring, a large gang of well-armed Legionaries were patrolling. At first count, Jessica estimated around two dozen. On arrival Jericho had readied himself for a fight, and was shocked when Jessica instead settled back in the rubble to watch the patrol, and ordered her new robot to do the same.

"Everyone goes for the Citadel," Jericho explained, "got the best loot in the wasteland."

"Good to know." Jessica leaned out and frowned, staring at the corpses in the centre. There was a malevolent purpose to the destruction around them; something beyond the decay which all buildings suffered in the post-war world. Someone had set about the process of methodically tearing this place to pieces. "What happened here?"

"First days of the Mutie war Brutus' army attacked the Brotherhood. Most of 'em died here."

Jessica nodded sadly. She felt a certain amount of sympathy for the Brotherhood of Steel, but they were misguided – always too reliant on their technology. That was always what did them in. She thought of the fate of the Mojave chapter and felt a stab of guilt.

The problem was not just technology, though. It was their isolationism. People were the only constant in a turbulent world. Human beings. They were, and had to be, the only thing which truly mattered. A Brotherhood member, explaining why they valued technology over people, had once told Jessica, 'everyone knows how to make a baby, but a laser rifle? That's a lost art'. It was the moment she had given up on saving them. The Brotherhood simply did not value people.

A steady distant thrumming made her perk up. "Vertibird?"

"Aww shit." Jericho groaned, sliding down the rubble.

"What?" Jessica frowned.

"Enclave…"

They watched as a Vertibird passed overhead, moving for the Citadel Ruins. "Is that a problem?"

The raider gawked. "Of course!"

"I think we should sit and wait."

The vehicle landed a short distance from the Citadel and deposited four heavily armored enclave soldiers, who fanned out towards the ruins. Almost immediately they engaged with the Legion troops.

"So who we gonna side with, boss? Enclave or Legion?"

"Neither. Let them fight it out and mop up."

"We could just keep running, boss."

"There's an old thought experiment which I quite like to consider at times like this…" Jessica told him, watching the carnage unfold. She watched as below an Enclave soldier exchanged fire with a rifle-wielding Legionnaire.

"Yeah?" the old raider asked, peering over the top of the wreckage.

"Imagine you're one of three gunman. The best man has a ninety percent chance of hitting his target, the second has an eighty percent chance of hitting his target, and you only have a fifty percent chance of hitting either of them. What's the best play?"

"Aim for the best guy first."

"Wrong. Best play is: Don't shoot at all."

"What?" Jericho turned to her "But ya gotta defend yourself!"

"You think the best man is going to aim for you instead of the other guy?"

Jericho thought for a moment as gunfire continued below. "Nah. He'd be crazy."

"Precisely. And the second man?"

"He'd aim for the best guy."

"Exactly. There is a high probability that they wound or kill each other. All one needs to do afterwards is mop up."

The Raider was quiet for a moment. "That's brutal."

"It works. My boss and I conquered a nation that way. Had two armies ready to fight. I made sure they were both as visibly strong as possible, while building our own power in secret. They attacked each other, each viewing the other as the greatest threat, and by the time we rolled in, their armies and resources were exhausted. We brought them to the table knowing we held all the cards."

"Brought them to the table? Ya didn't kill'em?"

She rolled her eyes, "why is it that everyone thinks of diplomacy as a weakness?"

In the citadel, the Legion and the Enclave were in a pitched battle. The Enclave were better equipped with power armour and laser weapons, but the Legion was twice their number, more maneuverable, and had the advantage of height, cover, and multiple angles of fire. A grenade did the last Enclave soldier in, leaving two Legionaries alive. One in good health, crouched behind the pile of bodies, and the other wounded and lying on his back at the centre of the ring.

Jessica peeked over a slab of concrete and nodded at the healthy legionnaire, "can you take him down?"

"Lessee…" Jericho rested his assault rifle in the nook of some twisted rebar, "this rifle ain't built for snipin', but I'm damned good with it."

On the ground below, the healthy fighter had rushed over to his comrade, and was administering a drug of some kind – probably Med-X.

Jessica heard Jericho's shallow breath, heard the loud clack of the rifle, and felt the pressure bellow outwards from the ejection port and the gentle ting of the empty casing as it landed beside her.

On the ground below, a spurt of red, and the healthy man fell, gurgling and clutching his throat.

"Nicely done." Jessica congratulated, rising to her feet.

"Thanks boss!" Jericho smiled proudly.

She led him down into the ring. Their sentry bot found a relatively flat section of ruins and wheeled across, scanning for any other hostiles.

Jessica strode over to the wounded man and knelt beside him. He wore a dirty merc grunt outfit underneath the legion armour, and had a trimmed beard. One side was covered in black and red burns from the laser rifles which had melted away most of the football gear which passed for armour in the Legion. He lay whimpering as he clutched his side.

Jessica smiled down at him, gently slipping her hand into his. "Hi there, I'm Jessica."

The man stared up at her with wild, delirious eyes, "oh fuck help me!"

"What's your name?"

"L-Leo. Leo Stahl."

"Hi Leo, Don't worry. I'm here to help!"

The man groaned and gritted his teeth, his face going pale. "Have you seen my brother? He was here with me just… just…"

Jessica reached down and gave his head a gentle shake. "Hey, stay with me, Leo."

She pulled a Stimpack from her pack and injected it into his side. Almost immediately color began to return to his face. He opened his eyes and blinked, staring up at her. "Have you seen my brother Andy? He was here. He was here fighting with me."

"I'll look for him, but I need some information first." Jessica promised, glancing around the Citadel. Nothing moved but the carrion birds. Behind her, Jericho was approaching, rubble crunching underneath his combat boots. He kept his rifle up, scanning the ring for any remaining enemies.

She said, "I'm sure I can find him, but I need your help: A vertibird was shot down in the east. What do you know about it?" Tell me and I'll find your brother

"I dunno anything."

"Hey, Leo!" Jericho said cheerfully, greeting the wounded Legionnaire.

"Jericho…" the man growled, sudden anger lending him a little strength.

Jessica grinned, "You two know each other?"

"Well sure." Jericho said, "I was sweet on his sister fer a while. They ran a grub stand in Megaton. Them and their brother Andy."

"Fuck you, Jericho!" Leo spat.

"Least her and Andy did. All you did was waste the profits on Jet, didn't you?" Jericho asked. "You useless fuckwit waste'o'space."

Jessica smiled to herself and pulled an inhaler full of Jet from her pack. Leo's gaze immediately focused on the chem, and stayed fixed upon it.

"A vertibird was shot down in the west." Jessica said, waving it back and forth, "the Legion has prisoners. Do you know where they are?"

"Prisoners?"

"Concentrate, Leo. Vertibird. Prisoners. I can make the pain go away…" Tell me and I'll give you Jet.

"I heard there were prisoners…" the wounded man coughed. "I heard they went to Rivet City."

Jessica's heart soared: There was a strong chance Cass and Arcade were still alive, then! She had not spotted their bodies amongst the wreckage of the Vertibird. There was a strong chance they had been taken to this Rivet City place.

"Where is rivet City?" she asked, "Where is Rivet City, Leo?"

I know where Rivet City is, Boss." Jericho told her, "but it's Legion Central and we're wanted fugitives. Best chance for us: go north to Fort Bannister. Hook up with Jackrum's crew.

"The Talon Company?" Jessica said, remembering the Mercenaries who had taken her to Megaton.

"Yeah."

"What about my jet?" Leo asked.

Jessica held the inhaler to his mouth and pressed down as he breathed in. Almost immediately, he relaxed into a pleasant haze.

"What are we going to do with him, boss?" Jericho asked.

Jessica sighed and stared down at the wounded man. His burns were extensive, covering well over a fifth of his body. Yet Jessica had seen worse in the warzones of the Mojave, and she had treated grievous injuries both in the NCR tents, and at the Boomers' airforce base.

"We should just kill'im."

"To put him out of his misery?"

"Nah."

"Because he's Legion?"

"Nah."

Jessica shot Jericho a half-smile. "Well why?"

"Cos he's a useless junky fuckwit waste'o'space."

Jessica's smile turned to disapproving frown. She said, "We'll keep him alive. He might be useful."

"Why?"

"Because I'm guessing Rivet City has guards. Guards must either be tricked, bribed or befriended." Jessica gave her patient two more stimpack injections, some Med-X, and another puff of Jet. "Getting one of their men back alive really helps with that."

"We ain't goin' ta Rivet City!" Jericho declared.

"I'm going." Jessica told him, barely sparing him a glance. "I'm taking my robot. You're welcome to come along if you like. I've come to enjoy your company." But don't forget who's boss…

She glanced up at the wasteland, waving in a general northwesterly direction. "Bannister is off that way I think. Maybe." If you think you can get there on your own, feel free to try…

Jericho grunted, glancing back and forth between Jessica and the clear shoreline leading to the open wasteland. "Aww fuck."

"And we're not done here yet, anyway. Help me find an entrance."

Darkness swallowed them quickly, and it made Jessica very anxious. The Mojave was not home to many dark spaces. The odd factory and vault dotted the landscape, but here in the Capital Wasteland, the interior paces seemed as hostile and unconquered as the wilderness. She was only a few steps into the ruins under the citadel, and already it was cramped, claustrophobic, and full of that dead white noise which seemed to inhabit every vault in the Mojave.

Jessica lit the flashlight on her pipboy and was rewarded with a small pool of stale, sickly light which revealed a long hallway with peeling paint and a sagging ceiling. Doors opened in every direction. Some labeled, others not. A nearby sign informed her that they were standing in the A-ring, for all the good that knowledge did them. The walls were covered in bullet holes and Jessica could see bits of shrapnel embedded everywhere, glinting in the meager light; a great battle had taken place here.

Jericho followed close behind her, his Chinese assault rifle at the ready. She turned to him and nodded at the weapon, raising an eyebrow. "Why the gun?"

The merc shushed her immediately. "Anywhere in the wasteland where people ain't, is usually lived in by things that ain't people."

Jessica pondered his words for a few seconds and glanced back down the shadowy hallway. A smell permeated the place – organic and rotten. Perhaps it was her imagination, but subtle creaking and swishing overlaid the dead white noises. Somewhere she thought she heard a dry, raspy breath, somewhere in the maze, something was moving around.

She shrugged her combat shotgun off of her shoulder.

"Atta' girl."

"Please don't patronize me."

Off to their left was a room labeled as 'Lyons' Den'. Jessica stepped inside, combat shotgun at her hip. Jericho brought up the rear, keeping his weapon trained behind them. The room was long and narrow, with beds spaced periodically, and a small alcove for drinks and food. Each bed had an accompanying locker, and as Jessica searched through them, she found that each one had a label attached to it: Dusk, Tristan, Colvin, Glade, Kodiak, Vargas, Gallows.

The last locker was labeled Lyons, and had a small potted plant on top. The plant had long since died, but there was still yellow in the faded, shriveled petals. Jessica reached out with a trembling hand and opened the locker as quietly as she could. The squealing of the rusty hinges sheared the air, and seemed to echo forever.

Within the locker was a single, spherical object: a clown mask with an impish grin. It seemed to stare directly up at her and Jessica felt a sudden wave of cold fear wash over her, catching her in its undertow and dragging her into hysteria. For a moment she could hear the ocean, and the sound of distant buoy bells. She backed away hurriedly, her boot crunching through a corpse's ribcage. She shrieked and kicked it away, maggots flying off of her boot in every direction. A radroach skittered out from underneath a nearby bed and vanished through one of the open doors.

"Would ya keep it down?" Jericho hissed, smoothly guiding the locker closed. He settled on one knee to examine the corpse.

"Who was it?" Jessica asked as he gave the sunken features a closer examination. She kept a little ways back, letting her heart settle. The moment of panic had left her feeling deeply unsettled, and she could smell salt water, which was strange.

The corpse's rotten clothes were full of pockets and Jericho began rifling through them. He shrugged, "some scavenger. Probly got here after the war ended – Ahaha!" he pulled a handful of caps, some bobby pins and 5.56mm ammunition various pockets.

Jessica took a last breath to collect herself and knelt beside him. She began to examine the body. Not for loot, but for cause of death.

On the body's forearms were a few large gouges, and a large chunk of leather was missing from its boot.

"What is that from, a sword or sumthin'?" the former raider asked.

"Bite marks," Jessica said, examining the blackened, ragged wounds, "swords cut and chop, but these chunks have been torn away. By something with big front teeth."

At that very moment, a knee-high hairless creature with enormous buck teeth and beady black eyes snuffled its way around the corner. Jericho immediately raised his rifle.

"Whoa! Hold on." Jessica gently guided the tip of his weapon down. She bent on one knee as the creature grew closer to them, plodding slowly on its stubby feet.

"Do you know how things work here? This is the Capital Wasteland, boss. Just shoot anything what ain't you or your buddy."

"Animals are like people, Jericho." Jessica said gently as the molerat nuzzled her open hand. It's long snout wrinkled and it let out a cute little sneeze. She smiled. "They attack when they're scared or hungry or desperate.

"Molerats are pests."

"We ranch them back home. Grow them for food." Jessica said, scratching her new friend behind the ears. It burbled at her and bumbled forward, finding shelter between her open arms. Jericho's jaw drooped a little lower. "Food, huh?"

"Mmhmm." Jessica smiled, recalling peasant memories, "Molerat meat is delicious if cooked properly. Remind me to introduce you to molerat manicotti when we make it back to New Vegas."

"Jesus. Out here you're lucky just to boil up a can of beans and mix some dogfood in."

Jessica wrinkled her nose as she knelt in front of the molerat, petting it gently. "Ew!"

"Welcome to the wasteland, Boss."

She grinned down at her new pet, noting the big brown spot on his snout, "I'll call you… Wilbur."

The raider rolled his eyes. "You know he's probly eaten people, right?"

"Well he won't eat us. Will you, Wilbur?"

The molerat let out a loud parping noise and walked dutifully at her side as they made their way further into the derelict facility.

Two shadows in pinstripe suits followed them, unseen and silent as the grave.

The central chamber of the Citadel was a wreck. Rays of light shone down from the massive open hole in the centre of the two-story room, illuminating in the thick, dusty air. Sand covered the surface of every piece of derelict equipment, and small dunes had built up at the hallway entrances and around corners.

On the upper level, a dead Talon Company merc was lying against the wall. A couple of brown spindly feral ghoul corpses lay around her, riddled with bullet holes. In her limp hand was an assault rifle and a few magazines of ammunition were on her belt. Her bottom jaw was missing completely, and her bruises and twisted limbs told much of the brutal nature of her death.

Jessica sighed sadly and crouched beside the corpse. "I always hate seeing corpses."

"Sssh!" Jericho hissed.

"What?"

"Whatever killed her might still be here… those are fresh, boss."

Jessica glanced up at him and then back down at the corpse. It was indeed 'fresh' as he had so aptly put it. It barely stank, and the pool of blood was drying, but not hard yet.

A day at most?

Wilbur plodded up and began to lick at the blood pool. Jessica patted him lightly on the head and moved as quietly as she could into the chamber. Sand crunched under her feet, and as she reached the railing along the upper level, it creaked, broke, and fell away to land with a horrendous clang on the floor below.

Foul, guttural cries sounded from the dark spaces surrounding them, and only then did she see a dozen spindly shapes darting around between the shadows on the floor below.

"Aww now ya kicked the hornet's nest." Jericho.

Dry, rasping footsteps pattered towards her, and Jessica turned in time to see a brown, papery-skinned feral ghoul winding up to strike at her. She shrieked and threw herself backwards, nearly losing her footing as her boot slipped on the edge of the precipice.

The ghoul's clawed, spidery hand missed her nose by inches. Jericho's boot slammed into its side, throwing the creature off the edge and it landed on an old computer station with a crack, bent in half and hanging awkwardly from the desk, stone dead.

Jericho wrenched her combat shotgun away from her and pointed it at the oncoming shapes, which were whipping up a set of precarious stairs and towards them at high speed. He sighted on the leading ghoul and pulled the trigger. The shotgun let out a loud blaat and the feral's head exploded. The ghoul behind it tripped over its falling corpse, limbs entangled, and the dead ghoul pulled both of them over the edge to crunch on the floor below. The shotgun shots rang out, echoing loudly in the derelict space. Wilbur rushed forward, gnawing at ankles and tripping the creatures up for Jericho to finish them off. Ghoul after ghoul fell, limbs flailing in the dirt and the blood until silence fell and the floor around them was littered with shotgun shells.

Jessica had huddled up behind him, her hands on her ears to muffle the noise. She carefully lowered her hands. The raider turned back to her, an annoyed look on his face. "Listen here, Boss: this is the Capital Wasteland. Ya don't go anywhere, or do anything without thinkin'o what might be here waitin' for ya. Ya don't plan ahead, ya get dead. Alright?"

Jessica stared up at him. The Mojave was for the most part hospitable. And so long as one stuck to the main roads it was rare to even have to fire one's weapon during a trip. Things were predictable there. There were Deathclaws, true, and Yao Guai too. Yet they did not wander everywhere. The Deathclaws were around the quarry. There were few giant insects as horrifying as the Cazadores, but so long as one stayed away for the deeper mountain passes, one could avoid them quite easily. Feral ghouls also dwelt in the Mojave, but only in the deepest reaches of the Old World bunkers and vaults. One had to search really hard for danger in the Mojave. Here… it was inescapable.

Even the humans were a risk here. In the Mojave, Jessica flowed easily from faction to faction, building alliances and friendships along the way, but here every raider band was as vicious and psychotic as the Fiends. Every faction heavily armed and inclined to shoot first and not ask any questions at all. She wondered what sort of a man would thrive in a place like this. "My apologies. Thank you for your help." She said as he helped her to her feet.

Wilbur rushed up to her side, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. She bent down and scratch him behind the ears, "And you helped too, Wilbur. Yes you did!"

"Let's just git movin' alright?" Jericho sniffed and squinted into the shadows, trying to suss out any more threats. "What was we here for again?"

"A robot," Jessica said, dusting herself off. Jericho offered her shotgun back to her, but she shook her head, "I think that gun serves us much better in your hands than in mine, quite frankly."

"Fine." He stepped in front of her and led the way down the stairs to the lower level. "What robot?"

"Liberty Prime?"

Jericho started to laugh. Jessica frowned at him. "What?"

"That thing only worked once. Years ago. Then it got nuked."

Jessica felt her stomach drop. "…Nuked?"

"Yeah. The Enclave blew it up. Brotherhood was trying to fix it." he stepped onto the dented platform at the very centre of the circular room and stared up at the enormous hole in the ceiling. The platform was an elevator of some kind, surrounded by four sturdy steel columns, and designed to move heavy objects between the laboratory space and the surface. The enormous steel doors which would have opened up to the sky had been pounded out, and hung, twisted and broken, from the ceiling. Little trails of dust fell from the opening, swirling with every gentle gust of wind from the surface.

He said, "didn't help them much. In the end."

"So it's not even here…" Jessica's heart dropped as she realized how pointless the entire trip had been. Now she was stranded in this hostile, foreign land – her friends lost or captured for no reason at all. "Great. Mission accomplished."

A quiet, slithering voice echoed smoothly in the darkness, "Liberty Prime…"

"She comes for the robot, Mister Krupp, yessss."

Jericho spun around, shotgun leveled at the darkness as he searched for the speakers.

There was something dreadfully familiar in their voices; Jessica had heard them before, but she was not expecting them here, so far from the Mojave…

"Who the fuck are ya? Step out!" Jericho barked.

"The profligate speaks, Mister Martin!"

"So it does, Mister Krupp. So it does."

"Jericho…" Jessica prompted slowly as the former raider trained his gun on shadow after shadow, searching for the speakers, "Jericho put your weapon down."

A figure melted out of the shadows. Jessica noted his unnaturally pale skin, milky eyes, and pinstripe suit. Her heart dropped even further: it was Burke. Or another clone. Or abomination. Whatever it was that had killed Boone. The air seemed to grow thin and cold as the figure neared them.

The stranger said, "Wise advice from the Immune, Degenerate."

Jericho spun around and pointed his shotgun directly at the stranger's head.

Jessica couldn't keep a hint of panic out of her voice. "Jericho, please put your weapon down."

Wilbur the molerat whimpered and crawled underneath a nearby table. A second figure emerged from behind them, closer to Jessica. She spun around and backed up, trying to keep them both in view. "Jericho, please!" she said.

His finger tightened on the trigger. "Nuh uh. I ain't doin no such god damned thing, boss. Not for these fuckin' jokers!" Jericho spat at the nearest figure. "I heard'o you weirdo bastards. Heard all kinds'o shit. Heard you can't die."

"It would be unwise to test that, profligate." The figure said, coming ever closer. His footsteps were silent.

"Most unwise, yeeesssss, Mister Martin." The other agreed.

The first tilted his head and stared down the barrel of the shotgun, completely unafraid. "We would be most displeased, Mister Krupp. I would not wish to dirty my suit."

"A man is judged by the sharpness of his suit, Mister Martin."

The hairs on the back of her neck had risen with every word they uttered, and she remembered the horrific nature of Boone's fatal injurie. She remembered how Burke had spoken to her during his interrogation. How in control he had been. How calculating. How threatening. If Jericho fought, he would die. "Jericho, Drop the damned gun and stay quiet!" Jessica ordered, watching their spidery fingers flex in preparation for the fight.

The shotgun hit the floor, and Jericho stared down in numb astonishment at his own hands. The figure slipped past him as they both circled Jessica, leaning in to examine her. She kept her eyes down, fixed on the floor as they circled.

"It is her, yes, Mister Krupp."

"Indeed, Mister Martin."

"What is her name today, Mister Krupp?"

"It changes with the wind, Mister Martin."

Jessica cleared her throat, "I'm Jessica Chase."

"Jessica…" one of them mused.

"Frumentari."

"Immune"

"Most favoured friend of the Legion."

"The Black Widow, yes..."

"But what brings her here, Mister Krupp?" one of them hissed in her ear. She flinched.

"A good question, Mister Martin." The other replied.

"Can she answer?" one of them tilted his head inquisitively.

Jessica's mind worked fast. She said, "I was sent to retrieve Liberty Prime."

It wasn't a lie, exactly. Just… an exclusionary statement.

"And yet the asset has already been retrieved, Mister Krupp."

Jessica frowned: Retrieved? By whom? The Legion? And where was it now? Still in the Capital Wasteland, or being shipped west towards the Hoover Dam?

"Her presence is anomalous, Mister Krupp."

"It. Is. Vexing… Mister Martin, Yesss." One of them hissed, circling behind her, far too close.

"Most Vexing, Mister Krupp."

"Quite so, Mister Martin."

Krupp's voice, or perhaps Martin's, grew colder and threatening, "So what. Brings. Her. Here?"

"You know these guys?" Jericho demanded from somewhere behind her.

"It's… complicated," Jessica shrugged helplessly as one of the circling figures stopped in front of her, practically nose to nose, uncomfortably close. He leaned in further and she found herself leaning back, keeping her gaze averted. She could feel his breath on her cheeks as he lifted a pale, veiny hand to her face, and brushed aside a few strands of hair to reveal her scars. His fingers were cold as he traced them.

"How interesting, Mister Krupp."

"What have you found, Mister Martin?"

The man's eyes narrowed as he gazed at Jessica. "Wounds."

"Grievous wounds, yes." His companion agreed as they stood together in front of her.

"A damaged mind could lead to erratic behavior, Mister Martin."

"Quite so, Mister Krupp."

The fingers ran along her chin and gently tilted her head up. "Look at me, yes?" the man prompted. Jessica remained silent, but kept her gaze averted. The abomination's anger spiked and his grip became painful. "LOOK. AT. ME!"

Jessica's green eyes met his own milky gaze. He had no pupils, but appeared to giving her a careful examination. On the platform, Jericho tensed, but remained still and silent. His shotgun lay on the ground beside him.

After a moment, the man holding her chin said, "She does not remember us, Mister Krupp,"

"She is frightened, Mister Martin."

Jessica balled her hands into fists to stop them from trembling, she managed a smile, "Gentlemen… I'm sure whatever you seem to think this disagreement is, we can come to some understanding. May we speak in private?"

The pinstriped men glanced at one another, considering her statement.

"I think it would be wisest, with all due respect, Widow, that you do not speak at all until you see the Legate."

"We are well acquainted with your… skills." Said the other. "We would like to avoid any… anomalous behavior"

Jessica frowned, "the Legate?"

A spidery finger was pressed to her lips, and the pinstriped man leaned in close, "no more words, Widow. Follow, yes? All questions will be answered."

"All in due time, Mister Krupp." One of them said. He turned to Jericho and beckoned the former raider over. He obeyed, glancing nervously at Jessica, but she kept silent. He had been right all along. Things here were far more serious than they had first appeared. She should have listened to Jericho and gone north first.