CHAPTER 45
All in the name of Sport.
Sanford hadn't been to Diamond City in a good while. It wasn't that the people there were bothersome to him, or him to them, and it wasn't even that the guards were complete jerkoffs and gave him guff every time he visited- they did that to everyone ELSE, but they liked Sanford -and it wasn't even the fact they didn't want Hancock coming inside that bothered him.
Being around all those people... It made Sanford feel... Weird. It was abnormal to him. Most of the citizens living in Diamond had at least some kind of semblance of who he was, which meant they wanted to talk to him, which meant they asked for things, or advice, and Sanford just didn't have the heart to deal with it some days.
Socializing had been something he was used too, quite good at actually before the bombs fell- but after all this time of wallowing around out in the middle of nowhere, Sanford had a strange cross of WANTING to talk to people, but feeling uncomfortable when he actually got an opportunity too.
So the whole time that they walked, Sanford felt this snake slithering through his mind- it was a limb of quiet dread, for how he would isolate himself purposefully, without wanting too. Of course this was evened out with the usual emotions he felt whenever he was about to enter a life-threatening situation.
He'd revise everything he knew, he thought about what kind of weapons the enemy might have, what tactical expertise they might have, all of the things HE had. Even against 'Small' things like a group of thugs- Sanford was cautious, because when it came to war, you never knew what was going to happen.
"Good news is, we're only a few minutes away, friends!" Robert breathed- he had been jogging through the rubble-strewn streets ahead of them for a bit in the travel- and Sanford was quite amused at his simplistic solution of trotting behind, because he still managed to keep up with that.
"You should hit the gym, Rob'." He joked. "I'm walking here."
"Been locked in a closet for days, San'! I'm just trying to get the calves working!"
"BAH! Shut up and stuff a protein bar in your metal face!" Hancock barked. "I wanna' go back to the freedom fortress and change my engine filter! It feels like I have a rusty fork shoved right up my second-stage pipe crease!"
"Well I always do tell you to pull the pole out of your ass." Sanford chuckled.
"I'LL BEAT YOUR FACE IN WITH THAT POLE, MONKEY-MAN!"
"Are your scans picking up anything?"
"Yes actually!"
"...Oh, really?" Sanford had been expecting a usual- 'Nope!' or 'No! Negatory!' -but Hancock apparently sounded serious. Huh. "What is it? I'm not-"
He glanced down at his internal HUD's lower corner.
"-Oh shit. I really gotta' remember to LOOK at this stuff."
"See that?! Your primate eyes have been outclassed! WHO'S OBSOLETE NOW, BITCH?!"
"Six heartbeats, just like the dead man said," Sanford ignored- he looked up at Robert, who had stopped to a hunched stand on top of a pile of wreckage belched out from the side of a building. "We're not far, get your head on, man."
"It's on, Mr. Sanford," Robert chuckled- he foot-worked down the debris with a quick descent- bricks and some slabs of stone crumbled after him as his boots clacked against the street. "I'll try to shoot at least one of them, though, you both look like you have it all covered."
"Don't sweat it, we got this." Sanford nodded, pulling the Laser rifle into his grip.
"We do this ALL the time, Glowing-Eye-Person!" Hancock laughed. "TIME TO KICK ASS! ONWARDS!"
-0-0-0-0-0-
When the basement tunnels got too boring she opted for taking a quick look around the first floor of the museum- only in the wing that was generally around what she was supposed to be watching.
All this time, the casks hanging from the ceiling above had remained undisturbed, unmoved, untampered with- thus her confidence in the lack of danger alotted her up the stone flight of steps, and back into the entrance foyer.
Once again, the Deathclaw stood in the expansive emptiness of the same wing- the triceratops skeleton was still there, all the wreckage was still there- and it was even quieter then it had been when she first entered it earlier.
Just like all the other buildings like these she had come across- the museums, the libraries, the like -she wandered around and looked through some of the exhibits.
In one of the showrooms, after she ducked through the shorter frame- she found a yellow-painted, and ruined chamber that had several display shelves all with cracked glass, and rusty iron frames- now absent of whatever had been stored in them.
She mulled down the rank and file of these things for a few moments, eyeing them with disinterest- then she came across a console-looking machine, obviously ruined and in horrible shape- two branching holding pegs of white metal held a gigantic tube of plexiglass between them.
There was a keyboard missing most of its keys on the right side of the machine, it had a small monitor that was spider-cracked and useless- a big blue button with a small, faded icon of a lightning bolt was present directly center the pad.
Hunching over the large machine's side- she examined the whole board and screen, looked at the plexiglass tube, and saw a exhibit sign that was behind the machine's other side. She squinted to read the faded and torn paper depicting whatever it said- it read-
-USION -POWER-EX-PL-
-Most of the letters just weren't readable.
She looked back at the tube and saw inside, on either end, coppery connections that pointed across the length of the tube at each other- like something you'd see to link electricity.
She thought about it.
"Maybe it's- 'Fusion Power Example'-" She muttered to herself. She used the tip of her nail to press the blue button.
sscckkNNKK!
bbzzzzzzzz
-A chain of aqua-blue electricity flickered to life from one coil to the other- forming a pulsating, slowly writhing band of glowing light that formed a string down the tube all the way.
It hummed lowly, and something in the machine was clunking repeatedly, like a loose cog- she blinked in surprise to the exhibit's functionality, and leaned closer to look at the fusion power link that was being displayed.
The blue power highlighted her face a tint of aqua- she had to squint for her eyes to deal with the bright light. It was beautiful. Small, not really a big amazing thing, but it was certainly beautiful.
It was interesting, maybe that was more accurate.
bm-bm-bmbmkbmk
-Something large made the faintest of tumbling throes that echoed down from the wing behind her.
She stood upright, spun around, and gazed out the doorway into the chamber. For awhile she listened for any further sounds, and when none occurred, she vanished in a blur of motion from the machine, through the arch, and into the wing beyond.
She used her sense of smell- tasting the air a few times, skidding to a halt in the center of the great expansive wing ahead- she glanced at the triceratops skeleton, closed her eyes, flicked her tongue.
...Something was still alive in here, with her, and it was... THAT way.
-So off she darted, back towards the pair of gray doors that lead to the eastern seating area she and Sanford had breached earlier-
WMK!
-The doors were kicked aside on either flank- the Deathclaw stood in the shaded lobby, and snapped her gaze about.
...She saw the two dead bodies behind the seating area, that wasn't new...
...No other... THINGS, so what had made that noise-?
-I don't recall a body at the foot of the stairs.
Indeed, there was a forearm jutting out from behind the last step of the stairwell right next to her- and as she stepped closer, and around the railing bend- she saw that there was a human man, one of the black-leather dressed goons- who was laid out face-first on the floor there.
She looked up the stairs, and saw scuffs on the steps all the way down to where the new body was sitting- she saw a fleck of blood on the edge of one.
He must have tumbled down the steps. But what threw him?
"...UUuuughhh..."
She reclined her head and looked back down at the body.
Oh... Apparently HE had thrown himself.
She had a good mind to just stick a few nails in him and end it right there- after all, he and his buddies had tried to kill them earlier- but the Deathclaw persisted in watching the groaning man struggle to flip onto his back.
Leaning against the bottom step, his eyes snapped open- one of them swelled shut and bloody around the edges- the Deathclaw examined him a bit closer, and saw that ugly strip of hair above his lip, that 'Mustache' -Sanford had called it.
It was the man her ally had whacked in the head with his gun after the first fight.
"...-Aw crap-" He stuttered on the floor- a hand was already up. "-Don't kill me-"
She raised a brow to the thug pitifully.
For a fleeting second she made an effort to remember the stupid little name he had declared for himself when Sanford had him at gunpoint- purposefully, because, she didn't exactly care- she dropped the question.
Opening her fingers, she relaxed the muscles that acted as fibers within her very digits- her nails unsheathed quickly, growing to double their original perceivable length.
"I'm going to GUT you, rongeur'." -So she was being a little unnecessarily cruel, but she was pissed today, and this was the same person who had shot at her- mercy wasn't really an appetizing thing.
"-P-Please don't- don't do that-" The man shuddered, his only good eye getting all big and puffy- his face drained of color, and the matting, oily filth over his skin glistened as he turned his head to the side slightly- angling from her claws -the sunlight streaming through the windows caught there.
"Why shouldn't I? You tried to kill us. You tried to kill ME."
"-W-What the hell else was I supposed to do?!" The man shouted. "All I see i-is some- guy and his monsta' coming in here and fucking shit up- what ELSE was I supposed to do?! Huh?!"
...She didn't really have a response for that.
"-I ain't ever heard of a- a talkin' 'Claw before-" He muttered. "What are you?"
"..."
"...W-Where'd that guy go? Y-Your f-friend?"
"..."
"...Aw, God, uhm- d-did you find Hark? W-What'd you do with him?"
"My 'Friend' shot him." She stated venomously, grinning when the thug flinched at speech leaving her chops.
A great look of horror dawned on the ugly, dirty man's features- he clenched his teeth, and sputtered over his own words, belting out-
"T-Those college people! T-The metal people! They had a kill order on him! T-THEY'LL KILL ME TOO-"
"Define, 'Kill Order'." She growled.
"A-Automated chip in- head-head-!" He waved a hand by his temple. "D-Detects heartbeat-! I-If H-Hark's dead- the metal people sent a kill team here! T-They track the chip!"
"...What kind of a kill team, rongeur'?"
"B-Badass shit- t-they told us they'd send spec' ops' level people- that they'd- they'd- NEUTRALIZE, everyone on site! T-They'll kill me!"
"...I don't believe you."
"Y-You'll believe me when synth pods come through the CEILING!" He ranted. "-T-The desk- Hark's desk-! H-HE has a communication pad f-for the Institute- I-I can tell them it's a false alarm-!"
"Do you think I'm stupide'?" She smiled toothily. "Just for that, you deserve death."
"O-Oh yeah-? W-Well- WELL FUCK YOU!"
CLLAPP!
-Feng did the most ludicrous thing he had done in his entire life in the Commonwealth- and he had already sensed the terrible outcome as his fingers finished their tug from his waist, opened, and hurled his only means of escape into the air.
That talk was all the distraction he needed.
The homemade flashbang was tossed high enough, that it orbited over the Deathclaw's head for a moment- she watched it raise, and she started to see it descend back to the floor- the thug scurried by her feet, she reached down to finish him, and then the explosive went off.
It was deafening- and not only that, but her vision was suddenly overcome with nothing but a wavering void of pinkish-green as the bright flash literally burned itself in her retinas.
Feng hadn't emerged unscathed either- he was rolling across the floor, screaming like a little girl- because even though he had looked away from the flash, he was still deafened, made dizzy.
Nothing but white noise for the highwayman as he stumbled around the bend of the stairs- and waddled in a pathetic sprint across the floor of the seating area lobby- everything on him hurt- his head, his arms and legs, his eyes, his ears- a world of pain and silence.
He heard his own muffles, his cries, faintly- he was so disoriented that he just kept his mouth open, spitting wildly- trying to disgorge something from his throat that wasn't there.
He flew between the two gray doors that lead to the entrance wing- and only by the time he was barreling down the concrete steps to the basement tunnels of his late bosses' hideaway- was the Deathclaw recovering a whole section away.
She stood in place, had fallen to a knee- she quivered, shutting her eyes, clapping her palms over her ear holes- she had a strong sense of panic as both her hearing, her sight, were stolen from her.
The white noise hissing in her hearing eventually caused her to start quaking more heavily with hair-raising rage- she slowly opened one eye- tried to see the floor and her feet below through the wavering burn lights in her vision.
She bent lower, her tail curling over the back of her calves- she clenched her teeth.
I want Sanford- it was like if she had mentally cried out for her mother- she felt so gross after that thought branched through her mind, and that was because she was still so angry with him for what he had said.
It took several minutes, she didn't know how long, she was too anxiety gripped to process time effectively- but her vision was coming back, a blackened shadow, faded, really blurry- her hearing was half-returning- everything sounded like she had a funnel pressed to her eardrums.
BM-bmbmbmbm... -Her echoing footsteps repeated several times after they had sounded- she stumbled forwards, and righted herself with a palm-press off of the floor.
Holding her arms out for balance- the Deathclaw shook her head- and when nothing happened she shook it again- found it was making the dizziness worse, and stopped.
That damn little thug- he had played her, and he had played her good- she spoke of no mercy when she fully understood she didn't have the guts to just butcher him on the ground like that.
Today had started out so... WELL.
What the heck had happened? Why was all this going wrong?
...T'was life, she supposed.
Nothing else to be done about it.
"-JE TE' TUERA'!" She bellowed- her own voice hurting her hearing.
She was so ANGRY, by this point- having had the disagreement with Sanford, having spent her afternoon killing unsavory people, after voluntarily isolating herself from her new group, after this little shit with the hair on his lip freaking flashbanged her.
She saw burnt strips of the homemade explosive still on the ground in places- it made her even MORE angry.
The Deathclaw clenched her bore teeth so hard, that saliva was trailing from her chops- she snarled, yellow eyes wide, animalistic- she darted to face the side of the stairwell- she tested the air with her tongue, caught a scent.
BBNK!
-She glanced the metal railing of the bottom steps so hard, that it indented, and curled outwards- like it had been hit by a car.
She sprinted on all fours, flew through the gray doors- THIS time, she was doing what she and Sanford hadn't done.
This hairy-lipped thug was a dead man hobbling.
-0-0-0-0-0-
All it took was a bend in the street up ahead- and then, Sanford's mind was taking yet ANOTHER trip, down memory lane.
Fenway Park looked awfully terrible in shape and appearance- from street level, it looked like nothing more than an enwrapping triangle of tall walls with ruined window ports, stacks of construction materials plugging areas where the brickwork had caved- a gigantic scrap fortress.
Wrought iron made open-topped watchtowers that dotted the top of the stadium walls- there were reinforced scrap barriers and barricades plugging all of the doors and gateways that lead to any section of Fenway's interior.
Sanford knew, that the only place that had an opening gate, was the front entrance to the stadium- and he doubted these goons under Hark's, and by extension, the Institute's, employ, were dumb enough to just make a charge for the squad of heavily armed guards there.
Standing in a three-way intersection- Sanford, Robert, and Hancock all had their eyes, and one trio of ocu-lenses- raised in brief wonder to the height of Diamond City's ultimate defense measure, that had literally saved the city hundreds of times.
While Sanford and Hancock looked pretty much passive to it all after a few minutes, Robert seemed awfully... Conflicted, it could be observed as. His synthetic face looked like it was just scrunching up in thought- the varying plates actually made it very easy for him to show emotion through expression- it was both creepy and amazing at the same time.
"Hey, Tin-Man!" Hancock asked as they took a sharp right at Rob's gesture. "What's the deal with this pencil pusher, that we're here to prevent from getting blasted in the face?"
"Her name's Jess'," Rob spoke between footfalls- he had his .44 by his hip, and his eyes were darting around fast enough that Sanford could here their internal support motors going- whhm-whm-whm -whmm- "She's a young woman who doesn't have much, and apparently saw a lot in me."
"What do mean SAW?" Sanford switched the battery coils on his gun to be safe.
"You know what I am, brother," Robert shook his head- they reached the flank of a small business structure- two story- they peered out around the brick flank, Hancock exposing himself a bit too much, and snapping out an anti-Communist curse when Sanford shoved him back behind the wall with his arm. "Jess' and everyone at Diamond knows what I am, what I do."
"This is your little- 'Detective' thing, here?" Sanford asked, keeping his gun brandished from the hip around the corner.
"I'm a private investigator, SLASH, detective, yes," Robert answered honestly, grinning. "Brings me the financial stability of caps, and the goodness of heart knowing I've helped some poor souls, just like today."
"So this Jess'? Minus the life story?"
"Heh," The bionic man angled his head. "Jess' was a good company asset of mine, a fellow employee, second in command- one day it went sour, I haven't talked to her in almost three years."
"HOLY CRAP! How ironic is that?!" Hancock laughed. "Pissed off the girl only to save her ass a few years later! Straight outta' one of those stomach-emptying soap operas Sanford was into as a kid!"
"I never liked soap operas, you freak." Sanford rolled his eyes.
"You just don't wanna' admit that you were SENSIBLE, Sanny'!"
"...God..."
"I'll call ya' Double-S' for short! Sensible Sanny'! HA!"
"You need to be quiet."
"Go pick maggots out of your fur!"
"Rob', let's go, where do you think she is?"
"DON'T IGNORE ME, YOU FUCKER!"
"-I'm thinking she's by the eastern side," Robert pointed to the extension of the stadium down the way they faced. "The gate's on the complete opposite side of where we are- and if I know Jess', she's walking around trying to get a story from the guard patrols."
"Why is she doing that?" Sanford raised a brow.
"I didn't get the whole thing, brother- probably something about what I'M looking into, the Institute." Robert frowned. "She started trying to usurp me from certain stories... I never called her out on it because, I felt bad, w-who wouldn't-?"
"We don't have time." Sanford rounded the building's corner. "Let's go."
"That was COLD, sir!" Hancock admonished as Rob' moved ahead silently. "And I LIKE it! You could be the next great de-motivator! DRIVE OUR ENEMIES TO KILL THEMSELVES, SANFORD! USE THE FORCE!"
"Jesus Christ- PLEASE. SHUT. UP."
"-You two do this everyday, don't you" Robert mused.
CLK
"-SHIT-!" Sanford swung in front of Robert, and a flash of light, an orange bolt- both bounced away like a tiny explosion of molten metal off of the X-01's suit's front glacis.
The detective stumbled back- he gazed up at Sanford's helmet.
"DON'T JUST STAND THERE! RUN!" Sanford barked.
CLK
-Another round punched off the metal surface of a rusty car as the three of them scrambled to the side, and hunkered behind it's flank.
Sanford fell to a kneel- he examined his two friends with quick glances- nodded at Robert, who now saw a tiny dent, blackened in the direct center, on the Power Armor's breast. That was level with where his head had been.
"-T-Thanks for the save, Mr. Sanford." Robert stuttered- reaching over his neck, and pulling his hood over his cranium. "I owe you a drink."
"Another sharpshooter, second floor, down there," Sanford glanced over the hood of the car- there was a building right beside the corner of the stadium wall down the street- it was a straight shot down to it. "He's got some kind of bolt action, not a .50, so at least that's-"
PNK!
-A round punched clean through both passenger doors of the car with two separate shrieks- it left a ragged gash the size of Rob's fist, and the round flew away right past his left thigh, and Hancock's right claw.
The robot looked down at the damage dismissively, and Robert flinched back with a horrified expression- glowing blue eyes darting between his leg and the hole in the door.
"-H-Holy lord- that was TOO close!"
"See that! I'M, a good luck charm!" Hancock bumped Robert in the shoulder with his claw. "A few inches to the left and you would've been less one ball! You were saying something, sir?"
Sanford, sighed, had his own bolt action in his grasp- he glanced over the hood of the car, came back, and aimed for the window he saw the attacker standing in.
The guy wasn't far away enough that Sanford couldn't see detail- he had the same leather armor uniform the people back at the museum did- but within the next second of Sanford pulling the trigger, it didn't matter anymore.
His gun kicked, and the figure jolted back- still holding his long, .50 caliber rifle in one hand, the other hand clenching over his eye.
The sniper folded behind the brickwork of the windowsill.
Sanford ejected the shell, looked down at Robert and Hancock, and nodded.
"Let's move up, sniper's dead."
"That was fast, brother!" Robert laughed- standing up in a hunch, still tenuous about leaving the safety of the car.
"I'll cover the two of you- see that building over there? Move inside the first floor, clear it, I'll head down the street."
"Sir, life signatures show five more goons- and one of them, is right down THERE!" Hancock jabbed his drill forwards.
Sanford quirked a brow- and, as if to prove just simply the quality of the people they were dealing with- right as he redirected his eyes, a man aimed an assault rifle around the corner of the wall up ahead- Sanford nudged the barrel of his gun a bit and fired.
CLK
-The highwayman jolted, and his arms curled over his gut, he leant out farther from the brickwork he hid behind, his gun clattered on the street, and for a few seconds he wavered there, standing.
Sanford clenched his teeth, ejected the casing, slacked the bolt forwards, aimed down the sights, and shot him again.
CLK
-This time, the other person was down. They fell on their side, stopped moving.
Sanford slowly pulled back the rifle's handle- stopped looking at the corpse- he heard the casing bounce on the street.
"You're both clear, go." He muttered.
Robert and Hancock hurried around the trunk of the car- Robert's boots echoing down the otherwise silent street- Hancock's engine hissing. Sanford stepped past the vehicle's hood and started working down the street, out in the open, with his gun ready by his hip.
The life signatures showed the last four of their targets were just ahead- and, as he examined the small business building down where the sniper had been, Sanford safely bet that they were in the lower floor of that exact structure.
Hancock and Rob' hid on the opposite side of the corner where the dead thug was still lying- the detective glanced round the bricks to see the corpse, with his eyes still open, and then peaked ahead at the building.
"They're inside, sir!" Hancock called over.
Sanford dropped the covering precautions- he hurried down the street.
This was taking entirely too long, he just wanted to shoot these people, or get them to surrender- it wasn't like they were dealing with an army, after all, they HAD killed that army at the museum.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Feng barely managed to get down the stairs without similarly tumbling down the ones he had in the lobby wing.
It took him a few minutes, a few more close stumbling calls- but he felt his way down the side of the hallway passages beyond the still ajar bulkhead that these people, and this monster, had apparently breached to kill his boss.
Entering the stairwell, he had tripped over a few corpses- his eyes were too screwed up for him to discern who they were- but as far as he was concerned, every single merc' Hark had hired, and every single other member of their group was dead- which meant that Feng had nothing to lose.
In his vindictive nature, that same that had seen him an undesirable his entire life- he fumbled down the basement tunnels of the museum, and soon found the doorframe with which he sought.
His vision- not nearly as effected as that of the Deathclaw's -was perfectly clear, if not a tad fuzzy- and so he was able to shoot through the frame, and stand inside the chamber beyond to gaze up at the casks above.
Feng grinned with his yellow teeth- he stumbled towards the boxes and piles of supplies in the back of the cell- he flipped over a few wooden crates, and they bounced and made cracking reports against the steel floor.
Tools rung in slides down the floor whilst he overhead tossed any small objects that were in his way- eventually, he came back with what he needed.
Feng was deaf as he did all of this- he held the girth of a small metal ladder underneath his arm- it was a foldable one, tucked behind the pile, right next to the Gunner's 80' mortar that they had stuffed back there with it when they ran out of shells.
Feng was breathing so loud, that it sounded an echoing hiss in his mangled hearing- the ladder clacked and rattled as he set it up.
The highwayman turned around again, and this time, came back with a tool that was as long as his arm.
With rusty metal that was sleeved with orange resin at the handles- Feng held a set of industrial-sized bolt-cutters- and he stepped to the top rung of the metal ladder in all but three panicked swings of his boots.
He stretched as far as he could, extending the bolt-cutters to the top of the nearest cask.
Ironically, right as he found the chainlink, and slowly worked the teeth of the cutters on either side of it- his hearing was returning, and he got a sound that frightened him more than anything in his sad life ever had.
PMM-Bm-bm
-Something BIG, was lumbering down the hall outside the cell.
The Deathclaw had followed him.
He needed to work fast.
ccHHNK! -The bolt cutters snapped the clenched link- BMMMMM! -The cask left a sizable indent in the floor when it hit the deck.
The impact was so voluminous, that the ladder actually threatened to toss him off. However, Feng had already scurried onto the floor level- he braved everything and turned his back to the doorframe behind him that lead out into the hall.
He started pressing buttons on the console of the cask's flank- his mouth was open in a silent scream- eyes wide, sweat cascading down his face- urine formed a small river down his left thigh.
He remembered the code that Hark knew- THE code, that would bring the shit down.
He hit the confirmation key.
The cask jolted, there was an electronic whine from the cask.
PLM-PLM -He spun around.
The Deathclaw stood there, leaning into the cell, with her fingers wrapped on both sides of the frame- two rows of sharp teeth being revealed from her curling chops.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" She screamed at him.
"TAKING YOU DOWN WITH ME!" Feng shouted.
She surged in at all once- Feng started screaming, he backed up and collided with the front of the cask, that was still beeping and whining from its tampered-with console.
The Deathclaw was all over him.
Feng was lifted off his feet- he kicked and flailed in the air, with a massive hand that just wrapped over his whole head- she didn't do anything specific, like clenching his throat, or the back of his neck- she just clenched his whole head, lifted him up.
Feng's screams were muffled in her palm- and as beforehand, she was so, so, ANGRY- infuriated with everything that had happened today- she grabbed the highwayman's torso with her other hand, and twisted with the other.
It was like breaking a toothpick- Feng's entire body jolted, his hands opened and then went lax.
She twisted a bit more for good measure, and dropped the corpse on the floor, where it tumbled over and sprawled on the deck- Feng's head being wrung so far to the left, that he was looking BEHIND his own shoulder.
Minding the cask now as her blood rage started to filter out- the Deathclaw butted the thing with her hand- and the cask bucked and settled, still beeping, still making noise.
She looked down at the dead thug, and then back at the console on the container.
...What had that little shit done?
WHHM -The cask made a whining grind of cogs.
Suddenly, steam shot out from all sides of it.
PK- chhhsssssmmmmm -And the whole front lid, the rectangular, black plate concealing the cask's insides from the exterior world- started to loosely slide off of its moorings.
She stepped back.
CLM-clmclmclcm... -The lid clattered on the floor in front of her- like if a coffin was stood up and had disgorged its top.
The Deathclaw for the first time saw the white-ish' interior of the cask- steam was still thickly coursing from vent filters that lined the padding inside the container.
She squinted at the thin, cell-shaped bevel that was deeper in the cask's insides- through the steam, and swirling cold air- she saw a shadow of something... Humanoid.
The shadow twitched- two blue orbs of light flickered to brightness at the shadow's top, rounded level.
The Deathclaw watched this unfold in wonder, and then there were more clattering sounds against the flooring of the cell, metal objects raining down by the tens, and laying flat after bouncing off of the steel. She had to sidestep as one of these disturbances slammed off the floor right where she was standing.
The Deathclaw glanced around the chamber.
The floor was now littered, with a dozen or more of the same kind of cask lids like the first.
She clenched her teeth, and looked up.
-0-0-0-0-0-
PMPMPMPMPMPM- The body folded in on itself before Sanford- the entire man glowing a molten red, and contracting onto the floor below- when the lights faded, all that remained down there was a tiny hill of sparking sand.
CLAK! -Robert's .44 echoed throughout the whole structure- and the single round punched clean between the eyes of some goon who had rounded the storefront doorway ahead with a handgun in his grip.
The colt dropped with the body, and discharged once to leave a hole in the wall to the left.
Together, the two of them stood triumphant in the interior lobby of the building- now littered with two corpses.
"...TAKE THAT, COMMUNIST...!" Hancock shrieked from the other side of the building- past the doorframe behind a little green counter, the same Robert had ended his own kill in- there was muffled plasma being discharged from the robot's gun, a body thudded against something wooden. "...Ha-HA! VICTORY! U.S.A! U.S.A! U.S.A! I FEAST UPON YOUR DEFEAT WITH MALICE, BITCH!"
Sanford shook his head at Robert, who was already giving him a strange look.
"Does he do that often?"
"You don't know the half of it." Sanford grinned. "Alright, Han', c'mon, we just have one more guy to-"
"DON'T MOVE! MOVE AND I'LL SHOOT HER!"
"-to kill, yeah, I think we found him."
Sanford and Robert Cannary spun to gaze back out of the front entrance to the store's first floor- they brandished their guns, and standing with his arm over the subject in question's neck- was a big man, burly, bald with a shaven face, and one eye that looked larger than the other, oddly.
He was an ugly fellow- like described, real fat- he had tan leather all over his body that had cage armor welded over it- and there was even a square, protective box of the slatted metal that capped over his whole head, supported by a rectangle of welded steel hung over both sides of his shoulders.
Held in a head-lock, was a young woman with brownish-black hair, darker hued face, with navy blue eyes- she was garbed in a ratty looking overcoat, kind of similar to what the Minutemen wore as their standard uniform- her teeth were exposed, clenched, and her eyes were really wide.
Sanford focused on her a bit longer than he normally would have.
After all, she was... Beautiful. She was really beautiful. Sanford hadn't seen a girl like this in... Before the bombs, even, it was... Wow, look at her.
"I said don't move!" Her assailant snapped again when Robert shifted on his boots.
The fat guy had a sidearm pressed against her temple- and from the length of the clip, Sanford guessed it was an automatic handgun.
The woman locked her eyes on Sanford for a moment- and then she looked over at Robert, and shockingly, her eyes got BIGGER.
"-R-ROB'?!" She sputtered.
"Quiet." The thug snapped behind her.
"...I'll make you a deal," Sanford nodded at the highwaymen. "If you let the lady go, I'll put my gun down, and let you run."
"Fat chance." The man growled. "I'm backing out with her- and you're both sittin', RIGHT there, and if you move, I shoot her."
"-'Fat'- being the word of choice here," Robert sneered. "Nothing you do is saving you, Greg."
"You know him?" Sanford asked suspiciously.
"He was one of Hark's seconds." Robert looked at his newfound ally out the corner of his eye. "Hark's nothing but a skidmark on the front of his desk now though, that he is."
"...You killed Hark? You KILLED him you idiot?" The man barked. "T-That means- that means they'll enact protocol- I-I... I gotta' go-"
This 'Greg' character, shoved his captive into the doorframe- where she stopped her plunge by gripping the arch- her long hair jolting over her face,
The thug started to leg it back into the street- but Sanford beat him to the game- his armor rumbling the whole interior of the store- he used his arm to nudge the woman aside- aimed down the sights of his Laser rifle, and sprayed the waddling scumbag's back.
The man made a coughing sound as carbon energy ate completely through his torso in misting blasts of crimson energy- Greg crumpled face-first on the street, arms extended over his head- the slat armor on his body clattering against the pavement.
Sanford lowered his gun and blinked at the steaming corpse outside- he grumbled a curse, and looked down at this woman that had her back compressed to the frame on the other side of the arch from where he leant through.
She looked up at him with big eyes, shut mouth- intimidated.
"-T-Thanks." She said finally, smiling thinly.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Good to hear. Are you Jess'?"
"Yeah." She had already looked back inside as Robert, who up until now had kind of been frozen inside the lobby of the store- came up, and grinned cheaply beneath his hood.
"Hiya' Jessy'."
"Great reunion, Cannary." She spat. "I thought you told me, that you didn't have any 'Links' from you to me."
"I cleaned up MOST of them, for Pete's sake."
"Go to hell, Rob'! You go to hell! I said I never wanted to see you again, and I MEANT it God damn it!" Jess' looked up at Sanford, and pointed at his rifle. "Can I use that to SHOOT him?"
"I'd prefer nobody else being shot." Sanford grinned.
"BAH! You're no FUN, sir!" Hancock zoomed in from the doorway inside the shop, directly behind them- levitated beside Robert, and noted the young woman standing before Sanford. "Woah-HOAH! You sly devil-dog-thing you!"
"What are you getting on about now?" Sanford sighed.
"Startin' a harem, are we, sir?"
"What?! Are you out of your-?"
"Hey, lady, hope you don't mind some competition with Godzilla-Milla' down the street!"
"Hancock, knock it off." Sanford snapped. "-Let's keep our heads in the game here- did Diamond know you were kidnapped?"
Jess shook her head.
"No, they grabbed me two blocks from here..."
"What were you THINKING, Jessy'!" Robert cried. "Do you think Diamond's Finest are gonna' be EVERYWHERE to save you if you get jumped around here?!"
"Shut up, Cannary! Mind your own life for once!"
"-Unrelenting," Robert threw his arms at the ceiling. "I can't even- for goodness sake!"
"WOMEN! As usual!" Hancock pointed out. "Nature's Damsel in Distress! Every last one of 'em!"
"...Is your robot malfunctioning?" Jess asked Sanford lowly- bluntly, creeped out by everything leaving Han's vocal emitters.
"No, this is daily." Sanford sighed. "So you're saying Diamond had no idea-?"
BMM
-There was a distant banging noise, that was so loud, it echoed for several blocks around them, and throughout the city.
Sanford gazed outside of the doorframe- Robert jumped and fumbled with his .44, and Hancock stopped cackling at his recent few jokes.
It sounded like an old pre-War firework, actually... That was... Weird.
"...Uh-oh- SIR!" Hancock cried. "INCOMING PROJECTILE!"
"Fuck!" Sanford shoved Jess' back inside the doorframe- he heard a shriek in the air- the descent of something BIG. "Someone's shelling us!"
No sooner had all four members backed into the store lobby- did the street outside suddenly vanish in a deafening crunch of pavement, and a mushroom cloud of disgorged dust and debris.
Interestingly, for an artillery round, there was a severe lack of explosive detail- like, you know, FIRE and soot.
The whole building shuddered- dust fell from the ceiling and it kicked ghostly extensions of the brickwork from off all the walls inside- pebbles, rocks, and chunks of pavement bounced around outside the doorframe- Jess' and Robert looked away and covered their heads- Sanford hunched lower, Hancock was unmoved, and thoroughly ranting about how disappointed he was about the lack of flames.
The noise settled, the dust started to thin.
"Anyone hurt?!" Sanford called.
"I'm fine..." Jess' mumbled.
"Good as can be." Robert coughed.
"UNDERWEAR!" Hancock snapped.
Sanford stepped towards the doorframe- and smoke was washing over him in a big, tan-colored mess as he crossed into the outside space of the building.
He expected out there, on the street- a big crater, or even a dud shell for the lack of explosions- but sitting there, imbedded in the pavement on an angle- was a white-colored, egg-shaped... THING.
"...What the hell is THAT?" He mumbled to no one in particular.
It was a metal pod of some sorts- it was egg-shaped at the bottom, with a rounded butt plate that had taken the force of the impact- jutting from the rear center of that plate, was a antenna-like construction, with mechanical parts on it, that were MOVING on it.
Rounded plates of metal rotated clockwise all over the stalk-like protrusion- there was a sensory orb at the pole's top- and it was pulsating a white-like hue.
The strange, detail-lacking device hummed lowly, and sat in the middle of this crack it had created in the street from where it had landed.
Sanford broke his gaze from it briefly- he looked at the sky, and, he didn't see any kind of craft, or THING that could've dropped it.
...Was it a munition of some kind? A shell?
What in the living hell WAS it?
The party of three gathered at his side and similarly were at a loss of what to do, or say, or think of the object. It was as tall as a man, and it was still humming.
"...It's obviously Communist!" Hancock blared after a bit. "BURN IT! BURN IT ALL!"
WHM
whm-WHM-WHM-WHM-WHM-
-Something mechanical rotated with a robotic whine- it rotated again, and again, and again- and then-
CHSSSK-csshhhhhhh
-There was a flash of light, static electricity buzzed in the air, and an invisible wave of heat wavered everything before their faces.
One minute there had been nothing but this strange egg-pod thing- and in the blink of an eye, there were now PEOPLE, that were standing around this pod.
They were pure-white colored, they had plates of metal that were carved and sculpted to resemble organic curvature. They had combat belts stocked with cylinder-like containers and black grenades- they were wirey, and thin, and they had no lips on their robotic faces, leaving a constant, skeletal grin with metal teeth.
Blue colored electronic eyes glowed in their rounded, circuit-wrapped sockets.
It was a squad of synths.
It was the Institute.
One of the synthetic soldiers arched its arm in a chopping motion before it- the hand folded in on itself, compressing and transforming- the fingers layering in on themselves, the palm receding into the wrist.
sssSSHK-SHM-BCLKCLK
-A black-colored saber shot out in the hand's place, and then, a translucent rectangle of bluish light flickered to life around this wrung of metal.
The holographic blade was sharpened in a corner-heavy tip at the edge- and it had square-like teeth patterned along both sides- like a perfected, technologically influenced representation of old-world serrated swords.
The synth extended a pointing finger at Sanford and Hancock, and Robert and this new 'Jess' - that they had saved.
Five or six Institute standard laser rifles primed in the hands of the other robotic warriors.
The Institute had come for them.
Sanford wondered for a second, how the Enclave would react to this.
-0-0-0-0-0-