Another long damn day.

It started off on a positive note. After sorting the good weapons from the junk, we separated all of the ammo as well. We kept big bullets that we didn't even have weapons to put in yet. The logic behind that was simple - ammo for the .38s and .45s was running about 2 caps per bullet. I don't want to even think what it would cost to support my killing habit. Heather took a 10mm as a back-up and pocketed about 200 fusion cells for her laser pistol. Lasers were not my weapon of choice, but she was very efficient using hers, so who am I to judge? Working with her was actually easier than dealing with most of the asshats I had to work missions with when I was in the Army. A few pointers and she would be a regular killing machine as far as I could tell. The good weapons went to Arturo and the shoddy ones went to Crazy Myrna. We kept most of the armor to sell her and the grumpy proprietor of Fallon's basement. We ended up with too much stuff for their cap capacity and opened a kind of "line of credit" with Arturo, but with him owing us. Right now, we are flush with caps and have 600 caps of credit with Arturo. I asked him to keep an eye out for a very specific weapon for me - the RSh-12 combat revolver. I described it to him and let him know that I would be willing to pay any reasonable price he might ask for it. I used one for the last year I was in the Army and it was the best damn pistol I had ever used. It used a 12mm round that would kill a semi-truck. I knew that the ammo would be tricky, but it didn't take that many rounds to kill just about anything.

After we finished with the vendors, we grabbed a late breakfast and then headed over to the office of this Nick Valentine character. He was, of course, missing. I wasn't sure if this was a good sign or a bad sign. I mean seriously - the guy I want to help me find my son is missing? On the other hand, he apparently takes the job serious enough to risk life and limb. His secretary, Ellie, told us the last place that he went and we were off. As a note - that woman in in love with her employer. Not sure if she realizes it, but her body language and vocal tone was giving off much more than a "Oh dear, my boss is missing" vibe.

Shotgun, .44, and the combat rifle was my kit for the day. Arturo hooked me up with a short scope for the rifle. It wasn't sniper quality, but it definitely gave me medium range options. Heather brought her laser pistol, the 10mm, and a sawed-off 12g we picked up from its former owner the day before. After less than a week, the guards had stopped asking me about the hardware I carried. They either got used to it, or Arturo told them I was kosher. I stopped by Piper's office and stuck my head in to ask quickly about directions and to let her know that I'd do the interview she was bugging me about. When I asked about advice on getting to Boston Commons, he response was to tell me not to go. About 3 seconds into the conversation, Heather walked in. I don't know if these two have a history, but if there is such a thing as a cat fight via innuendo, they had one.

Yeah, that is what I need right now.

It seems that a lot of people who go to Boston Commons never come back. I assured her that I'd be back and not to worry. That led to an exchange between the two of them when Heather replied that I would be ok, because she was going to cover my back while Piper was safe in her bed in DC. I just walked out the door and headed towards the gate. Heather caught up about 30 seconds later. I didn't mention a damn thing. Wasn't interested. I needed to find this Nick Valentine character and see if that would lead to anything. We were attacked by a few ferals about two blocks from the commons and had to fight our way through a raider outpost as well. Ferals are more a nuisance now that I know what to listen and look for. A far cry from the first time I experienced. The raiders... Again with the shouting before shooting! We killed a dozen or so between the two of us and managed to find their leader who had crawled into an individual bomb shelter by following his blood trail. I stood to the side as the door slid and he wildly fired into thin air. I kicked the pistol out of his hands and put one round into his forehead.

We got to Park St. station around noon, which seemed about right. Clear this place out and be back to DC in time for dinner. I am not going to lie - Takahashi makes the best damn noodles I have ever had...

Nick Valentine. Skinny Malone. These names were out of a bad gangster B-Movie. I remember thinking I might die of laughter if they were wearing suits and fedora and toting submachine guns. The base of the stairs opened into a room with four men... Wearing suits and fedoras and toting submachine guns. I pulled a raider move, but I honestly couldn't help myself.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I realized what I did before they could respond and managed to drop two of the four. Heather dropped the other two, but not before one of them got a burst off. I felt a bullet hit me in the leg as the last of her guys went down. I jammed a stimpack in and moved forward.

"Subtle." Her sarcasm was so thick I could almost cut it with a knife.

"Hush. We have more of these clowns to deal with, then you can ride my ass about it."

"I'd rather you be riding mine..." She followed that gem with another. "So, are you fucking Piper and that is why you wouldn't do me?"

"Are you kidding me right now?!" I rasped in a whisper. "Are you fucking kidding me?! You want to talk about this now?! We are about to go face to face with some heavy shit, kill a bunch of guys, fight our way into a secure facility, rescues a guy, and then fight our way out..."

I could tell that the ferocity of my response caught her off guard. I took that opportunity to drive the point home.

"You need to understand a few things. Number one - I am not with, and don't plan on being with, anyone until I finish this. Number two - this is not a good time to bring this crap up. Number three, and most importantly - I watched my wife get murdered and son get kidnapped less than two fucking weeks ago, by my clock. I have been out of a deep freeze for about 10 days. I have known Piper for about a week, you for about 3 days now. I am still processing everything and I haven't had time to fully grieve because I have been killing assholes that are trying to kill me on a daily basis!" Heather was looking at the floor. "Now, do you have any other petty bullshit you want to talk about?!"

"I am sorry, Cain." Her voice broke a little when she apologized. She caught herself and cleared her throat. "Let's do this... Are we going to kick some ass or what?"

"There we go..." I clapped on the back and she let out an awkward chuckle.

We made our way quietly down the stairs til they opened up into a cavernous subway station. A quick look around the corner revealed seven mob looking types milling about on the platform across the way. Seven submachine guns being fired in our direction was a lot... even an inaccurate wall of bullets is still a wall of bullets. I motioned for Heather to stay put. I removed two frag grenades from my pockets and held them, spoons against my chest, pulling both rings. The first I cooked off for two seconds and threw it at the group of morons. I had been noticing that the fuses in the grenades were running just a touch over three seconds. As soon as I threw the first, I popped the spoon on the second and waited. The explosion went of as I had hoped - air burst in the middle of the group. The second hit the floor in the same area and went off a fraction of a second later. All seven were down. I turned around and smiled at Heather.

"Show off." She smiled back. "We aren't going to have enough room for all of this crap we are picking up today..."

"We can stash some if need be. No big deal..."

This is how we talked as we walked unhurried to look over the carnage my grenades caused. We found the weapons intact, but the clothes were best suited for becoming rags. We found a couple of pocket watches, lighters, a crapload of chems, and, as luck would have it, almost nothing but .45 rounds and fusion cells for ammo. I loaded a few empty magazines I had with me and Heather loaded her pack and refilled her bandolier. We only found a few dozen caps, which surprised me. Other than spiffy suits, shoes, and hats, apparently, crime didn't pay.

We made our way further down the tunnel until we were able to make out 3 more goons talking in front of what appeared to be a vault door. Now THIS was interesting. Bad guys in a vault. Too bad the one I was in was a cryo facility, or else I might have had an idea of a general layout.

"No grenades." She paused and pointed at the thug standing closest to us. "I want his hat."

I took a closer look through my scope. Now, I am not sure where old boy got it, but he was wearing a leopard skin hat with a hot pink band around it.

"Oh gawd... That is awful..."

"I know, right? I have to have that. I have never seen anything like it."

"Yeah... there is a reason for that.."

"Please Cain... Body shot that guy first..."

Without another word, and against my better instincts, I double tapped two rounds center of mass into the guy's torso and watched him drop. By the time the other two had time to do much more than turn in our direction, we had already dusted them. I couldn't help but laugh when Heather excitedly ran over, picked the hat up, and put it on.

"How do I look?"

"Like a target?"

"Hush..."

Entering the vault. Navigating the vault. Killing the dipshit left to guard Nick. All were a piece of cake.

Then, came meeting Nick Valentine.

The first thing I had to do when we entered the Overseer's office was slap Heather's weapon up so the laser impacted on the ceiling and not Nick. Of course the only reason I knew she was going to fire at him was that she yelled "Synth!" I kept my hand on her weapon as I stood between her and Nick.

"Hold on there mad dog... I need him intact... No matter what he is." I glared at her. She dropped her head down and mumbled something about being sorry. I knew she was embarrassed, so I didn't go to hard on her.

"So.. You're Nick Valentine?" I asked as I turned to face him. Clearly not human, dressed in a noir detective outfit, and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, was one of the strangest damn things I had ever seen.

"Yeah. The question is..." I blinked in confusion as he raised a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the smoke deeply, "who are you, and what brings you to my rescue?" I watched the smoke literally pass through his head and out the sides of his face. He saw me staring at the smoke. "I know, I know... I figure it adds to the ambiance and mystique... doesn't do a damn thing for me.."

I laughed, and so did Heather. Fun facts - Nick was clearly a synth. Nick had a dry sense of humor. I liked Nick. Heather didn't want to kill Nick - as much.

We spent the next few minutes with introductions and I explained to Nick why I was looking for him. He agreed to help, seeing as he kind of owed me. We agreed that we would get into details once we finished rescuing him. Getting out was marginally easier than getting in, until "Skinny" Malone, his girl and two goons were standing between us and the exit. Nick seemed to know him so I figured I would give diplomacy a chance. That went well until his girl piped up saying that Nick probably brought us in to kill them all. I was about to respond but Heather beat me to it.

"Nick brought us in? You are an idiot... You have had him locked in a room for two weeks! Did he use his psychic synth powers? Moron..."

Have I mentioned that Heather has, apparently, never heard of the word diplomacy?

"Are you going to let that bitch talk to me like that Skinny!?"

Well, shit. Apparently the little brain in his pants was controlling his actions because he started to raise his weapon. I saw Nick start to move almost as soon as I noticed Skinny start to move. Nick had reflexes that were the fastest I had ever seen.

"Not happening..." was all I said as I brought the .44 up and shot Skinny in the face. The gore that came out of the back of his head covered the face of his girl. I shifted aim about 5 degrees to the right, and vented her in the same way, decorating the goon behind her.

Nick and Heather killed the other two.

"Well, that could have gone better... for them. Let's get out of here." Was all Nick said as he started to move towards the exit. He may have been a synth, but I liked him and appreciated his dry humor. I think even Heather was warming up to him as much as she could. We left together and headed back to DC and had surprising little contact with much of anything on the way home. It was dark when we got here and, honestly, I am exhausted. I told Nick that we would meet him back at his office after lunch tomorrow. My intent is to crash in a few minutes and sleep like the dead for a long damn time. When I get up, I am going to need to go talk with Arturo. He left a message on the door stating that he had a business proposal for me. It isn't that I need the caps, but to get in good with an arms seller is always a good idea when you are me.