That Thing I Started

I followed the young detective to an alley in Wrights territory. After a few minutes, the sky was getting darker and the sounds of gunfire stopped. We reached an alley devoid of passed out junkies with a campfire and three chairs around it. There were three dumpsters blocking the other entrances with trash scattered about. The Detective motioned for me to sit down at the campfire and I did, but still watched him silently.

He fumbled through a wooden crate and asked plainly beneath a smirk, "You mind starting that fire, Sean?" He glanced back and I nodded.

I threw a couple wood scraps into the pit, stuffed some old newspapers under it, and ignited the paper with my lighter. I looked back to see Detective Paul holding a stack of landmines. I warmed myself up as the fire grew while Paul walked back the way we came. I heard a few distinct metallic clicks of activating charges. Then, he tossed one of the mines into the alleyway, covered it with dirt, backed up, and repeated the process. When he kicked some dirt over the last one, he brushed his hands on the dirty suit and took a seat across from me.

He gave a wide grin and broke the silence by saying enthusiastically, "You get yourself into all kinds of trouble, Sean! What were you doing at the Chop Shop?"

I wasn't even sure what to say to the detective. I hadn't seen him in several months and my mind hit a wall. I just responded honestly, "I was running a job…"

I hesitated when I saw his eyebrow raise, but continued, "…For Mr. Bishop."

He reclined back, "Got yourself in with the Bishops? That's one way to get by..."

He stretched his legs out and asked inquisitively, "Didn't I suggest you stay away from New Reno, back in Redding?"

That question seemed oddly intrusive, so I said, "You told me to get the hell away from Redding, so that's what I did. Hitched a ride with the first caravan outta town… Just happened to be one going to New Reno."

He leaned forward and chuckled, "I'm just kidding, Sean. So, what you been up to since our last encounter?"

I eased myself, "Like you said; got myself in with the Bishops. I usually wear one of them fancy blue suits by the door, but sometimes I run odd jobs for the family… Oh yeah, and I got married."

He laughed again, "Really? I thought I saw you by the Shark Club entrance a few times, but I thought, 'No way is that dapper gent the same guy I rescued from slavery in a mine?' Haha! And congratulations on the marriage, Haha!"

I let out a slight laugh, paused for a moment, and asked him, "What about you? What has my 'Savior' been up to since he so heroically rescued me from captivity? Haha."

He said, "Spent a little time in The Den, got some details on the slave trade up there, showed up in New Reno three or four months ago, and started working my way up Salvatore's ladder."

I asked astounded, "You been with the Salvatore's for four months?"

He replied, "About. Yes. I told you I saw you working the entrance a few times, but wasn't sure until now. Salvatore's bar is right across the street, you know? Hahaha!"

I looked past him, "Wow, hard to believe you been here so long and we just now ran into each other? And working for the Salvatores too?"

He held his hands up mockingly, "Don't hold it against me! Hate to get whacked by a Bishop thug in my own camp, Haha!"

I looked back at him, "Why the Salvatore's though?"

He adjusted in his seat and the sky was just dark enough for the lights of town to glow over the western buildings. He said, "Well, I'm still alive, so I know that you can keep a secret..."

He paused and generally said, "I told you way too much when we first met…"

He halted again, glanced up at me, and said half serious, "It's good to chat with someone and reveal all my amazing discoveries, Haha!"

I said bluntly, "Who would I even tell? Your business is between you and that 'NCR' or whatever? Plus, I'd given you some good info in the past… Unintentionally or not, Haha…"

He grinned, "Me and NCR, yes…"

He paused, locked eyes with me and started hesitantly, "Well anyways, my time in The Den put me on that slaver lead you mentioned, and their head honcho kept mentioning some group they were trying to get in touch with. They even kidnapped some old trader or tinkerer to get their radio working; it's in my notes, but I forget his name… Oh well, I heard the guy was later sprung one way or another, but I never got to see him. So, I listened through enough doors to keep hearing about the Salvatores in New Reno. I headed on down here and worked my way up for a while."

I said, "That's… Pretty vague? How did you get in with them?"

That question seemed to make him uneasy as he asked, "How you get in with the Bishops, Sean?"

I wasn't entirely ready for that tone, but I answered honestly, "I had to take out a chem pusher the Bishops wanted to make an example of… That was it really."

He paused for another moment as he prepared to answer the question, "I see… Getting in with the Salvatores wasn't difficult at first, but I had to do something pretty bad to secure my place and really earn their trust…"

He glanced up at me and saw my steady face. He clearly didn't want to get into any details, but added a final bit seemingly in hopes of transparency with me, "I had to poison someone that… didn't deserve it… not too long ago…"

I didn't want to make the man any more uncomfortable than he was, and didn't want to know who he poisoned if it made him that upset. So, I asked more about where his mission was taking him, "So, what you think is going on with the Salvatores? How do they relate to your mission?..."

I stopped myself and asked curiously, "What were you trying to figure out again? Sorry, it's been a few months."

He pulled a Jet inhaler out of his bag and asked, "Need a hit?"

At sight of the common vice, I responded, "Oh Yeah! I forgot you got hooked on this shit too! Haha! Toss it over here."

Paul took a hit and tossed it at me. I was feeling a bit out of it anyway. Too much weird shit's been happening lately, and diluted Jet has a way of taking the edge off without ruining your day like the pure stuff. But Paul answered my question, "I was initially trying to investigate the outbreak of Jet in Redding, but your talk of that Vertibird flying machine and slaver activity to the north sent me to The Den. Anyways, the slavers of The Den, and mention of some mysterious organization put me in New Reno to investigate the Salvatores."

Playing with the inhaler in my hands, I thought about his original mission and said, "I think I found out where Jet comes from if you still need to know?"

He darted his eyes from the fire to mine and said, "I'm assuming New Reno? I'd come across a few labs that make the shit in the sewers, so that much is obvious. Especially considering you can't walk two steps in this town without tripping over a psychotic Jet fiend…"

Then he paused and answered an irrelevant question in the back of my mind by saying, "Hence the landmines."

However, I evaded his mock curiosity in the moment to ask, "What did those slavers up north say about the Salvatores?"

He responded seriously, "Nothing about Jet. I been with the Salvatores for months and discovered some interesting details about them, but none relate to the drugs in Redding… Is it the Bishops? I know the Mordinos control the drug trade, but they just seem to own all the pushers. I've yet to see anything about legit operations, and the Bishops' interest in external affairs make them suspect number one."

I was genuinely curious about the Salvatores operation and even more so; his knowledge about Bishop's "Interest in external affairs." But, this was probably the first time a Bishop (Me) had an actual conversation with a Salvatore (Undercover Paul). So, I said, "I'll tell you all I know about the Jet operation in town, but you have to tell me what you got on the Salvatores. Sound good?"

He looked skeptical, "I thought we were friends, Sean? What's in it for you?"

I said, "Nothing really. Consider it amateur curiosity."

He shook his head with a light grin, "Bishops really changed you, huh? You gonna shake me down for some cash too?... Fine, deal. I can trust you won't get people killed with my knowledge."

I gave a smile and began to detail my operation to the Mordinos run "Stables." So, I said, "Alright, Mr. Bishop had a meeting with the Mordinos boss a couple weeks ago and put me and a buddy on a 'Distribution Operation' north of the city. You ever heard anyone mention a place called, 'The Stables'?"

He thought for a second, "I heard the name. I kept hearing conflicting accounts about the place from local pushers and rumors on the street about some kid. Why? You actually been there or something?"

I asked another question while holding up the Jet inhaler, "You know what Jet is made of?"

He said, "No? Scientists down south are trying to break down its chemical properties, but… I thought you were telling me about The Stables?"

I said, "Getting to it. The Job sent me and my buddy to the outskirts of north Reno to link up with a Mordinos contact. North of the city is a small collection of buildings and several brahmin herds easily mistaken for a typical wasteland ranch, but believe me when I say that it's the heart of the Jet operation."

He said, "Go on."

"I won't get into the details, but during that operation, I got some answers out of a guard. The guy laid it all out for me. Apparently, The Stables is run by the Mordinos, but more specifically; a teenage boy…" I paused to catch Paul's face.

Paul looked puzzled as I continued by embellishing the account I got from that frustrated guard. "Word on the streets is right, the man I interrogated didn't give me any names, but said the family was approached a while back by a teenage boy who claimed to discover or create Jet. The man didn't know all the science behind it despite my interrogation methods, but he explained how the kid managed to synthesize a hallucinogenic compound from the feces of Brahmin cattle. So, the kid runs The Stables north of town, and the Mordinos set him up good with a lab and apparently a stream of prostitutes. Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to infiltrate the facility, so I can't tell you exactly what happens there…"

Paul's fire illuminated face looked skeptical. He took a deep breath and interrupted with, "That's… Interesting. You don't seem to be lying about any of that… I mean, I can believe the Mordinos are behind it, but what makes you think they produce it there?… And cow shit? Really?"

I said, "Guy who told me seemed very serious about everything he said. I was only there briefly, so I couldn't get all the info. But, the talk of a drug lab in there, and the amount of Jet my buddy and I found makes me think it could be a primary manufacturing facility or a place where they test new forms of it. So, like I told you; I didn't get all the science behind how it's made, but the guard's statements were convincing enough for me and good enough for Mr. Bishop to make some kind of deal up there."

He said, "Well, that's one question answered, I guess? But what about the Bishops? Why were you guys there? And what makes you think The Stables is producing it if you didn't actually see the inside?"

I paused for a minute thinking about the Bishop family and how good they been to me. Paul's employers or "NCR" had no jurisdiction in New Reno, but I said reluctantly, "I'll tell you how I know, and I think you're right about the Bishops distributing Jet across the north, but I'm not sure about the Redding situation."

He asked, "Why's that?"

I took a deep breath, "You didn't hear this from me. Got it?..."

The detective gave an assuring nod and I resumed, "Our task at the stables was to make sure Mr. Bishop wasn't cheated. There was a caravan making a stop with us, and when they showed up; a crew in lab coats from inside The Stables came out with a bunch of crates. They opened the crates for me and my bud to inspect, and wouldn't you know it? They were packed to the brim with Jet inhalers. Crew loaded them for departure and left going who knows where…"

Paul remained silent and I added, "All I'm saying is; seems like Mordinos either make the shit there, or test it out, and then the Bishops are starting to send it out. We fucking hate the Mordinos and I don't know why there would be an under the table alliance, but everything I told you is just conjecture based on what I got from that guard and the op I ran."

He paused for a long time just looking into the fire. I knew NCR didn't have any clout around New Reno despite the propaganda posters I'd see in town, but I felt like I just betrayed Mr. Bishop's trust whether what I said was the truth or not. I watched the detective's eyes eagerly waiting for some kind of response.

Finally, his eyes met mine and he said, "That's some good info… Thanks for that, Sean." He was silent for another minute and said, "I owe you a few explanations now, right?"

I think he heard the distress in my voice when I realized I told him more than I was comfortable with. I shook my head trying to collect myself and said, "Yeah, anything you can say about the Salvatores would even us out."

He spoke sternly, "I'm going to let you in on something much larger than the two of us. You think you can handle it?..."

I nodded and he continued slowly with another warning, "Based on what you told me and what I'm about to tell you, you might need to make a few life altering decisions in the near future, understand?"

Eager to hear what he had to say and not really processing what he said, I blurted out, "Want me to talk it over with my wife first? Just tell me already. What you find out about the Salvatores?"

He sat up staring right at me, "Ever seen a laser pistol before?"

I said, "In an old magazine, plastic blocky looking things, right?"

He fumbled through his bag for a second and tossed me a glimmering sleek little pistol looking thing. The metal casings had vents around the barrel and a cylindrical looking thing jutted out of the right side, "Didn't look like that, did it?"

I studied the unfamiliar weapon and shook my head. He went on, "Ever see any Salvatore's with one of those?"

I still felt the smooth weapon and read the tiny labels on the sides as I said, "No, we try to steer clear of the Salvatores. There was something about a 'massacre' a while back?"

He said, "I heard about that too. That was the Salvatores' first demonstration of their new weapons. You wanna know why you never seen a laser pistol like that before?"

I looked up and asked, "Why?"

He gazed right into me, "These were made after the bombs…"

The way he said that last bit caught me as he continued, "All known energy weapons factories on this coast took direct hits when the bombs fell all those years ago and nothing like these had been seen before…"

I tossed the weapon back to him. "A month ago, I slipped from my duties and headed for an old building outside of town that used to be owned by a prewar government agency called the, 'BADTFL.'" He saw my confusion and added, "That's: Bureau of Alcohol Drugs Tobacco Firearms and Lasers."

I asked, "What you find there?"

"The basement generator was still running and some of the computer terminals too. I opened the federal registry for laser weapons in circulation and ran the serial number on that gun you were holding… No entry. There were even entries for prototype civilian grade plasma weapons but nothing like this."

I asked, "So, what does this mean?"

"It means that these were created recently, and the only people able to make anything close to these are the Brotherhood of Steel…"

He saw the question on my lips, "And before you ask, no, the Brotherhood didn't make these. I scanned the schematics to Shady Sands, and our ambassador to Lost Hills confirmed. So, the big question is; how did a New Reno Crime Family get their hands on extremely advanced Post War energy weaponry?"

I saw the look in his eye and heard the inflections in his voice that appeared to display pride in his discoveries. I said, "I'm assuming you know?"

He answered immediately, seeming unable to hold his answer. "You probably know the Salvatores for their control of Commercial Row and their racketeering operations, but they deal in so much more…"

He seemed almost giddy as he went on, "… The Salvatores deal with Vault City to the northeast and trade with them for industrial chemicals. The Salvatores also have teams of scavengers throughout the north that pick apart abandoned factories for the same chemicals. For drugs, you ask? No! Jet is such a small part of this situation now that I know the workings of the Salvatore Family. I've seen too many ledgers in the Boss's office and my time in The Den showed me that the same industrial chemicals were being guarded by the slavers up there! How is this related, you ask?..."

I interrupted, "How IS this related? Salvatores take in salvaged chemicals and have high tech weapons? What does this mean? You're going a little fast for me."

He slowed himself down and continued, "Where did the Salvatores get their weapons? Unknown. What do they do with the chemicals? Unknown. Why do the slavers up north keep the same chemicals? Unknown. Who was it that told you the name of that flying machine over Klamath?..."

When I noticed he was waiting for an answer, I said, "Slavers told me that flying thing was called a Vertibird... I don't get it?"

He gave a wide grin and clasped his hands together, "I didn't get it either until I saw Louis Salvatore's personal dealings ledger. The handwriting was bad and looked like gibberish, but I understood the only words that mattered to me: Laser Pistols, Chemicals, Slaves, and 'Enclave.'"

I asked, "Okay?... What's an Enclave?"

He said, "Speaking briefly from the dictionary: it means a small group of people, or a collective. I am still not sure what 'The Enclave' is, but I can almost assure you that whatever they are; they're responsible for the unrest in this region. I just have no idea who they are, where they are, where they get their tech, why they want chemicals, and how the slavers are involved with them."

I leaned back, tossing another couple scraps on the fire, and asked, "You steal your boss's ledger? Or you doing his bookkeeping?"

He said, "I found out all of this only a few days ago, but faked my death after learning the final piece of this fuzzy picture."

He looked at me with a smirk, but curious about his "Death" I asked, "How you do that? And what was this lead?"

Paul said quickly, "You're stuck with me now by the way…"

Before my brain could register what he said, and before my mouth could ask what he was talking about, he went on, "Word got passed to me yesterday that I was heading an assassination mission in the desert for an unknown client. All Louis Salvatore told me was that the target was a scientist, and that my crew and I were the only ones to know about this. The deal also said that we were going to eliminate this mark as a show of good will for an unrelated special exchange in the desert in a few days. I managed to deduce that the unknown client was this 'Enclave' group, given that no contract has ever been offered to us without an actual name to go by. So, I killed my guys and disappeared during a caravan attack using a few well-placed mines and grenades. Far as Mr. Salvatore knows, I'm a fine red mist now, and victim of a raider attack."

I had a million questions on my mind, but the thought trail I was following made me ask, "If you 'Died' yesterday, what are you doing here? And what about the target? Won't Salvatore just send someone else to off the science guy?"

He simply explained, "I had a fallback point in this alley in case anything got heated. It did, obviously. So, I laid low in town trying to make it back here and avoid any Salvatores. However, a couple hours ago I happened to notice you and your friends stealing that wastelander's working car and curiosity got the better of me. So, I followed you. Of course, I didn't know it was you at the time, but once you literally ran into me I figured I'd still have a few days before the boss hears that I 'died' and sends someone else to finish the job."

I sat there for a minute to take in the vast amount of info I got and asked, "So, you gonna head out to find this scientist guy and pound him for questions about the unknown Salvatore client?"

He smiled, "Originally, I was planning on infiltrating that 'Exchange' in the desert, but your arrival gave me a new idea. So, I'M not going to find the marked egghead, but WE are!... Not that I don't trust you, but you know way too much now, and until I get the chance to skip town, I need you with me."

I said defensively at my sudden draft into service, "I got a wife though? And Mr. Bishop needs to know what happened to me and the car job?"

He said, "Don't worry about it! The wife'll be fine, and you stood front row for that battle at the Chop Shop, right? They'll just assume you got chewed up by that mutant freak's minigun. Then, you'll stroll into town in a few days, and say that you were getting patched up by a few scavers in exchange for some Jet."

I thought about it. The battle at the Chop Shop definitely provided a good distraction for this task. It was like Paul thought ten steps ahead of me because his request seemed reasonable enough. Looking back, there were a lot of holes in that veiled excuse, but all the bizarre events of the day and high from diluted Jet clouded my usual peevishness. I agreed, although somewhat reluctantly.

"Track down a marked scientist, and then?" I immediately followed with another question, "And what are we doing when we find this science guy?"

He gave another one of those grins, seeming satisfied by the mission related questions. He said, "We're going to track down the guy. The assassination report showed he's holed up in the desert east of town with his family. Once we find him and his family, we have to move them to an NCR Ranger Safehouse west of Broken Hills. A number of us detectives in the northern frontier have access to the Ranger safehouses they use to move slaves. The places are pretty convenient for in case our cover gets blown in our AOs and we gotta wait out the storm. As of now, this scientist is under NCR protection. I'll send word back home that we're gonna escort the family someplace safer, but right now we gotta make sure he's someplace the Salvatores or the unknown client can't find him…"

He paused for a second and said, "I'm assuming you're in?"

Curious about this entire situation, mind clouded by diluted Jet, and shocked from the strange day that spiraled out of control, I gave a nod. "I guess so. When we headed out?"

We got a few hours of sleep in the alleyway only to head out before sunrise. Paul mentioned that the ranger safehouse was only a couple days outside of town and the Salvatores' intel on the target showed he was on the way. I wondered about the "NCR Rangers" that were apparently battling slavers almost as much as this "Broken Hills" place we were going towards. I heard conversations by tourists about Broken Hills since it was only a few long day's walk from New Reno. Apparently, the place was an old town around a uranium mine.

New Reno didn't run on any big leaky fusion reactors, so we never had to deal with them, and it was probably better that way. I heard the town was made up of misfit humans, ghouls and even those super mutant things. I wondered how all those different types of beings could live and work together so comfortably. Super mutants were usually shoot on sight in wasteland communities and for seemingly good reason too. Only friendly one I'd ever seen or heard of was that one following the Vault Guy, but a few minutes later they started shooting up Mr. Bishop's operation. Anyways, we walked the back alleys of New Reno and reached the outskirts of town just as the sun showed itself.

So, there I was: stuck with a detective I only soberly met twice, and about to escort a rival family's assassination target to a safehouse belonging to a country I never been to. I tried to think of the whole thing as a vacation from work, but I wondered what my wife was thinking. Word about the Chop Shop getting shot up and my absence had almost assuredly reached Sophia by now. It was very likely that a Bishop man was telling Sophia that I was killed in the shootout. Little did all of New Reno know, I survived, and was skipping town to help a friend who saved me from slavery several months ago.

I once saw an old holoprojection of a prewar suburban family "TV Show." The "Episode" followed the husband sneaking away from his wife and kids to go on a "Guy's Trip." I'm not entirely sure what "Fishing" is, but the husband dressed in a goofy looking outfit to secretly go "fishing" with his friends under the guise of a "Business Conference." Anyhow, I tried to look at this situation as my own "Guy's Trip." I was sneaking away from work and the wife to trek across hostile wasteland with the only non-work-friend I had.

*In case you didn't catch it, Detective Paul had to poison someone who "Didn't deserve it" for the Salvatores. Someone notable perhaps?*