The room was a single catwalk with a vast abyss below. A terminal and a preserving chamber were at the far end. The echoing alarm still blared all around while David peeked his head over the rusted metal rails.

It's a long way down; a fall would surely be fatal, David thought.

Redfield had begun hacking the terminal linked with the sealed chamber of sorts; it was long and white. "Unseal LS chamber, eh? Yes, please," he Redfield said, with a little chuckle.

The chamber lifted Victor's organic body upright. He was ancient, more so than Redfield. The beard he sported reached his waist, and he had no meat on his bones. There was no muscle mass left in his body, quite literally a walking corpse. He was nothing more than an abomination. His greyish skin was the only thing that was keeping his body from falling apart.

"Grand Duke, we meet again." Redfield slung the BAR over his shoulder and walked closer to Victor, close enough for him to feel his monstrous breaths. "You look well."

"Guess his disgusting personality is on the outside too."

"Would expect as much from the son of Nicolas the Bloody."

Victor's natural voice was ragged and labour to ever-loving hell. "My father… vexes me so… even in death… Why are you… doing this? Centuries or preparation… wasted!"

"Your idea of world domination is over. For the N.C.R... For the Mojave…" Redfield said as he unsheathed Sally. "For Claire…" Sally glistened in the limited lighting.

David felt a glimmer of concern raising the hairs on the back of his neck. "What are you doing?" he asked lightly.

"Alastair Lewis left my grandniece a little message back in 2040, something about the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Savage was Conquest, Ashford was War, and Richtofen was Death. All that's left is Famine, which is you, Romanov."

Victor breathed heavily with heated anger. "Alastair… Fucking British bastard!"

"It was after this warning I started pulling up files. It seemed genuine, even up until now. Ashford, Romanov, Savage, Richtofen… All… Must… Die..."

Wait, is he gonna… I gotta do something! David thought, deciding if he should let Redfield kill Victor or stop him.

Redfield went to swing Sally at Victor, but David stopped him in his tracks as he raised Sally over his head. Sally would cleave a man like David in a single swing, from the top of the head to the crotch, but it never was meant to be. David clutched his father's forearms firmly and refused to budge; his father was weaker than he expected. Sally wavered above their heads, Redfield's hand refusing to let go.

"David, what are you doing?!" Redfield tossed and turned with David, fighting him over Sally. "He's the bad guy!"

"If there's anything I learned from you, it's that my father is not vengeful."

Redfield hesitated. "If you're not with me, you're against me!"

"But murdering a defenceless old man? Where's the integrity in that?"

"Monsters don't deserve integrity."

"Monsters?" David had a trump card he thought he wouldn't have to use, not until now. "Is he any different than Wesker?" Redfield ceased his struggles against David, but his tight grip didn't loosen.

"Wesker earned his soul-"

"What about before that? Hmm? Like when he killed you? Yet, despite that, you showed him nothing but respect, courtesy and even sportsmanship. If you can't donate a single brain cell to think how much of a hypocrite you've become, I've lost a lot of respect for you."

"You're… you're right, son." Redfield let go of Sally, and David disarmed him, ensuring his father doesn't reconsider. "No one's a saint these days, not even me. I can't believe how much I have changed over the last two hundred years... A hypocrite! How low I've stooped..."

Redfield held out his hand for David to give him Sally; he was sceptical, but he let his father sheath her over his back. Then, Redfield walked to Victor's terminal and pressed some buttons on the keypad.

"What are you doing?" David asked.

"To understand does not necessarily mean to forgive, and that's something even I'm willing to overlook. All Horsemen of the Apocalypse must die."

"Dad, don't kill him; it's not worth it," David pleaded. What am I doing? Protecting the life of a warmonger… No... I'm protecting the life of a defenceless old man - a man who can't defend himself. An empty shell of one, at least.

"No… No! You will ruin everything! Body… degenerates… No… progenitor to cure…"

"Oh, dear; I forgot you might die without your P-virus, just like any other protohuman." Redfield breathed and exclaimed happily. "I guess it won't be long after the degeneration that your heart and organs begin to... rupture... eh? Oh, how horrible it is to be a protohuman... superior in every way... but at what cost...?"

"The cost...?" Victor paused to breathe. "You know... nothing of the... cost I paid to... save the world..."

"Yeah... I'm not gonna sit here and listen to your justification of communism again; history proved that deluded vision doesn't work." Redfield pressed a big red button, and Victor's fragile body returned to his chamber, almost like before.

David sighed, almost relieved. "I thought you were gonna kill him..." Redfield didn't reply as Victor descended slowly into the capsule, settling back inside, sealed and all. David was getting visibly concerned. "Dad...?"

From inside the chamber, Victor sounded hugely pissed; his voice was muffled. "You… will regret this… One day… I will return!" he was able to yell, the only words that could get through the thickness of the glass.

"You returned enough times already; this... deluded dream of yours was your curse and undoing... Now, make peace with your Gods and die!" Redfield smashed the terminal with his closed fist, with enough force to nearly destroy it. The terminal was fubar and ultimately unresponsive.

"Dad, that's enough!"

Redfield ignored David and peered into Victor's capsule. He and Victor glared at each other so hatefully the tension in the room felt noticeably warmer. "Because of you, I spent countless years alone. I watched my family and world die, the people I swore to protect with my life! Sarkis failed his duty as a Demigod because of you! How miserable must our lives be for you pricks to be satisfied?!"

"Вы будете сожалеть об этом, американский кусок дерьма!"

Redfield understood every word Romanov said, and he smiled. "Увидимся в аду... Романов. Наслаждайтесь пребыванием в вечном адском огне." He turned away without another word and went back to David. "We're done here."

"How are you feeling?"

"Blown off a lot of steam back there."

"Did you really have to kill him?"

"He killed himself with the life he lived; I never laid a finger on him."

"You allowed him to die..."

"Ehhhh, my integrity's intact; I'm okay with that." Redfield shrugged. "Besides, I'm an old man; maybe it was an accident caused by a senior moment?"

"That's a pretty warped idea of justice, dad..."

Redfield waved his hand low, feeling sorry he had to pull rank and lose some of his charm. "Agent Wesker... killing Mister House was for the greater good of the N.C.R.; it had to be done. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." David frowned. "What will happen now?"

"The robots and forces under House's controls will power down, which will be good for us in the long run. You head back to the vertibird; I'll just steal some of Victor's archives."

"Have fun."

"Oh, I will. His database is like a candy store in my eyes. Untapped knowledge of science, science-magic and even the arcane arts even I'm curious about."

When General Redfield and David boarded the vertibird, back into the cockpit, there was an incoming video call on Redfield's Pip-Boy. He prepared for take-off with David and uplinked the request onto the monitor screen for both of them to hear and see.

Flying a vertibird and answering a Pip-boy call was worse than a death sentence. The fantastic driver he is with perfect hand-eye coordination, the primary senses of Redfield's had degenerated over the decades, and it showed. The vertibird was still parked safely, so there's that.

The video was composed of Colonel Moore on screen from back at the Dam. "Is Mr House still a threat?" she said with no introduction.

"He's history."

"Good. That's one problem over and done with, and just in time, the president will be arriving at the Dam as scheduled. Due to our progress, he feels secure enough to stage that damned rally he's been going on about. However, we still have one last mission that needs doing."

"Let me hear it."

"Recently, we had scouts go missing in an area west of HELIOS; I'm concerned that the Brotherhood are up to their old tricks again. Their chapter needs to be destroyed."

David intervened. "Is there any other way?"

"Don't get her started..."

Moore's eye twitched from irritation or insubordination; David couldn't tell. "Don't even think about playing hero, Agent. Any Brotherhood member holds a deep grudge against the N.C.R.; we cannot afford to leave any enemy alive. Especially of their calibre. Objections?"

David hesitated. "Negative..."

"Eliminate their chapter. That is all." Moore saluted and ended the video call.

David waved his arms. "The idea of attacking an entire chapter is just suicide. How does she expect us to kill the Brotherhood of Steel?"

"Not all of them, just the Mojave chapter," Redfield corrected. "They inherit an active connection with technology; anywhere power lies, you can bet they're not far behind. If they're in a bunker, we can overload their reactor – destroying their chapter. Otherwise, we'll have to do it the old fashioned way."

"Murder?"

"Genocide," Redfield corrected.

"Does it have to come down to any of that?"

"The N.C.R. and Brotherhood have been at war for decades; it won't stop anytime soon."

"What happened with diplomatic solutions?"

Redfield leaned forward. "The more I think about it, the more I can't bring myself to do it."

"You're the one in charge here; you make the call. I just think there's enough blood on our hands already, especially after Victor."

"My heart weighs heavy thinking about the thousands of lives ruined by this pointless war… the Brotherhood has lost five bunkers already. So much human life wasted…"

"What are you going to do?"

"My problem, not yours. I worked with the Brotherhood before; I can talk to them." Redfield leaned back into his chair and started the vertibird into the ignition. The bird of the skies hummed as it lifted off the ground and roared to life. "I'll drop you off at the Dam; it's time for you to take a break anyway."

"Groovy. I wouldn't be much use anyway; I don't know anything about the Brotherhood."

"That's fine."

"I also don't much fancy shooting fools in power armour."

"They can be hardy."

"So, seeing that I'm not waltzing into a bloodbath, what other plans do you have for me today?"

"How do you feel about handling security details?"

"Sure, why not? You know I did it before."

"Great! The president will be arriving at the Dam soon, and we can't have enough security; his protection is the N.C.R.'s top priority."

"There's a president? So that way of life's still a thing?"

Redfield shook his head. "We are but only a tiny republic in a huge country."

"Do you answer to him?"

Redfield shrugged, thinking about all the colourful opinions he had lined up in his head. "Both I and Oliver do, yes."

"That's pretty cool."

Redfield had dropped David back outside the visitor centre via rope; there was no time or space to land as flocks of people were moving around. The excitement peaked quicker than expected as the people were seamlessly out of control; the president's arrival put everyone on edge. People of the N.C.R. were flooding the Dam to see the president; the idle chatter and frantic citizens forming masses were something to be seen. Few were crying with joy, which was odd, but David couldn't judge.

On the way to the general's office, Boone and Cass were nowhere to be seen. So David just went straight to the office to wait for something to turn up. Mostly just waiting in silence opposite Moore behind the desk, David only slowly died of boredom. Waiting for his dear old dad was a horrible trend. Waiting with Moore was somewhat uncomfortable, putting up with her strange motherly glares.

In the early evening, Moore stopped with the paperwork and started a video call to Redfield; David was close enough to observe while he sat at the desk patiently. He wasn't hunched close or anything, just heard the conversation distinctly. "Redfield, it's Moore. What is the status of the Brotherhood?"

Redfield spoke very clearly, even though David had to lean slightly to hear him. It looked like he was intruding, but it wasn't that obvious. "The Brotherhood talked me into supporting our cause," Redfield said, "Elder McNamara and I settled on a temporary truce until we deal with the Legion."

"You were supposed to destroy the Brotherhood! Not to negotiate with them!" Moore fumed. "What did you say over there?! Was it anything the N.C.R. Council should know of?"

"Nothing major. With the Brotherhood's assistance, we can guarantee the Dam's safety. Isn't that what's best for the people? We need to set aside our differences now and work on it later-"

"And you believed them?" Moore interrupted. "General, have you forgotten we are at war with these bastards?!"

"Too much bad blood has been shed from both sides, Colonel. Have we learned nothing from Operation: Sunburst?"

"Only that defectors like Blackthorne didn't have the stomach to do what's right, unlike you. So do not be like him; you're too important to the republic to give up its ideals."

"Which is why, instead of risking more bloodshed, I suggested we work on a temporary truce. To resolve our differences would be beneficial for the distant future-"

"Unbelievable!"

"In the meantime..." Redfield interrupted, "I need you to set aside your personal vendetta and do what's best for the Dam and the people."

Moore leant back in her chair, offended, more so than usual. Her nose flared, and her eyes twitched. "I cannot believe you! You can't expect the N.C.R. to follow your judgement when it comes to the Brotherhood! Not this time. General or not, this is quite possibly the stupidest thing you have done!"

"No. The stupidest thing I could do walking like Blackthorne..." Redfield paused, letting himself relax a bit. "For nearly a hundred years now, all the presidents had trusted my judgements and decisions. Isn't that enough to convince you?"

"I cannot answer that."

"I know what I'm doing, Colonel. This will be the last time we talk about your vendetta. Are we clear?"

"Crystal… Do what you will, but I will ensure the president hears about this. If negotiations fail and put our people in danger, I will hold you personally responsible." Moore sighed. "Setting that aside, the president will be arriving soon, and we're sure the Legion won't waste an opportunity like this. So you need to get here quick."

"He's expecting me, isn't he?"

"I should hope so."

"I sent Agent Wesker to bolster our security details at the Dam."

"I was wondering why he was here." David glared at her. "You should know that Agent Six has just arrived also."

"Great! I can finally meet the guy stealing my jobs," said David, waving his hand.

"I'll be on my way as soon as possible".

"Just please be on time, Redfield. That is all." She saluted and ended the video call.

"Any orders, ma'am?"

"No… no." She sighed, placing her face in her hands. "Get to the visitor centre and report to Ranger Grant; he'll be in charge of security details during the president's speech. So you'll be answering to him for the time being."

"Right away."

"Very good. Dismissed."

David left the office quickly; it was only a short walk back. Behind the round desk in the polished reception was a dark man in his mid-thirties, a hearty ranger with an eye patch. He was addressing a group of rangers that wore masks and others wearing salvaged power armour; their weapons were a mix of light and heavy.

The darker ranger was Grant; he was talking to two people. One was a mid-twenty bald man in black ranger armour; his physique wasn't special. With him was a woman, only a bit older than him, with long dark hair. She wore primitive leather armour. It didn't seem like it was from the Mojave; it was jet black thick leather with a cloak - it looked terrifying.

She had a slender sword sheathed at her side with metal plates slapped over her chest. Everything about her felt like she too was not of this Wasteland, or she just had poor fashion sense and social anxiety. It was weird to see that amount of leather on a woman that didn't fit in.

David went straight to Grant as two other people came out of the elevator along the left side. It was Boone and Cass. They acknowledged each other's presence by waving and smiling, but David still had a job to do and a courier to see. David knew it was Agent Six; he looked like a show-off.

Grant was expecting another agent, just not at the actual time while he was assembling the entire group; he already had more than enough. "Ah, you must be our new soldier. I'm Ranger Grant; welcome aboard," Grant nicely said, shaking David's hand.

"Agent Wesker, sir. General Redfield asked me to help with the security details."

"Ah, that's great. I need people I can trust at a minute's notice. A strong defence is a strong offence, am I right?" Boone and Cass came over and stepped into view.

"That's why the colonel sent another agent your way; I also have some backup. Where's Agent Six?"

Grant pointed at the other man beside him. "He's right over there."

David rocked up to the other agent with a determined look and a burning desire to speak his mind, one that decided to vent some fury since he had most of his jobs taken by a civvie. "You! So you're the courier getting my assignments?" The man and his woman friend glared at him with no change on their faces. "I heard a lot about you."

Six was confused by David's sudden accusations. "Uhm, do I know you? Mr..."

"David Wesker. Agent David Wesker. I've heard all about you, Six. At least once or twice, I needed a job, and you were always there before me. I don't appreciate playing second fiddle to a civvie."

Grant stepped in between David and Six before things got hairy. But, of course, David could lose his cool long before it was even there, so that was lucky for everyone. "Command will make better use with the both of you regardless. However…" He checked out the unknown woman. "I don't think we can allow a civilian to intrude on our operations; she's not a citizen at the very least."

Six cleared his throat, catching Grant's attention. "You get both of us or none of us; I'm not doing this without her," he sternly noted. The woman stood with her hands on her hips with a scowl.

"I can..." David muttered.

Grant shifted his weight around and sighed. "Alright, I'll allow it. Just don't make me regret it."

Six patted the woman's shoulder. "Don't worry about us. We'll do this together."

I don't like this guy. I'd personally teach him a lesson for stealing my work, but that woman with him looks like she's on a short fuse. The way she glares is unsettling. "I'm sure we can handle it. General Redfield will be here soon, hopefully before the president arrives." David folded his arms.

"I suppose you two know your strengths… just get out there. Get a feel of the crowd and look around for anything out of the ordinary. Then, do what you can to keep the president safe."

"Oh, we will," said Six.

Grant turned to David. "Agent Wesker. I'll be overseeing the security team personally and keeping constant contact with everyone over the radio. It's a safe bet the Legion will try something today; best prepare for anything."

"Do you have a detailed schedule for the visit?"

"Sure." Grant handed David a file with rows and rows of written notes. Actions like waking up soldiers were right at the top and ending with things like debriefings, not looking forward to that briefing. "Got any leads to go on?"

"Nothing is concrete yet, I'm afraid."

"Security positions?"

Grant glared at David with squinted eyes. "Have you done something like this before?"

"Once."

"Right… Rangers are stationed here at the Dam, some watching the crowd and the area's perimeter. I have snipers in the towers and a K9 unit sniffing out assembly members. And access to the landing platform is prohibited. Anything else?"

"I need full access to the Dam."

Grant chuckled. "You got spunk, kid; I'll radio it in for you. Now get to the observation deck; it's time to hustle."

Grant led all the rangers, troopers and engineers to the door outside: the courier and the woman followed reluctantly. While Boone followed after everyone, Cass stood by David; something was still on his mind.

"Penny for your thoughts, David?"

"I don't like that guy."

"Who? Grant?"

"The courier."

"He looks like a decent guy."

"Doesn't look like he belongs here, and neither does that woman of his."

"Are you jealous?" Cass mocked.

David glared at Cass with a smile. "Of what exactly?"

"Stealing your thunder, getting here first, stealing your jobs. Should I go on?"

"Point taken." He relaxed and groaned. "For Christ's sakes, I used to be a point man. I'm not losing my edge to a run-of-the-mill mailman."

"You're gonna have your work cut out for you then; he's not just an ordinary courier."

"What's so special about him?"

"He's bigger than he looks. I should know..." Cass smirked and left the visitor centre."

"Wait? What? Argh, dammit."