Hey, guys, sorry I haven't updated in such a long time. I've just been really busy lately going into finals and going places during winter break. But, lucky you, because this chapter is awfully lengthy. It plays a little more into the story and backstory and balances it out with some philosophy. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh, and thanks for the reviews you guys. I enjoy reading them, even if it's just to make quick comments; they help inspire me to write some more.
Chapter 3: Instrument of Chaos
He had no idea where he was, but it had been his home since the day he'd been born. They designated each of them numbers. He was number 5. He and the other numbers looked alike, but he never cared to ask why, though he wondered why he never had a name like everyone else. Well, he did, actually. But it was an unofficial name.
"Garrick?" a voice called from down the narrow corridor. "Aren't you going to come out from your room?"
There was no answer. The young boy of age 11 sat quiet and patient.
The steps from down the corridor edged closer as the sound of shoes knocking against the cold, hard ground echoed increasingly louder. He didn't care. He didn't want to talk, not even to her. When she came in, a clipboard in hand, she smiled at him and walked over, brushing his light brown hair away from his face.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "Don't you want to play with the others?"
"No."
"Why not? They all like you. Why don't you like them?"
Garrick noticed the scar on her hand, which looked like it was fairly young based on the marking. "Because they did that to you."
Dr. Justine Lang looked down and noticed the scar. "It's nothing, Garrick. Some of the other boys were just messing around."
"I don't like the other boys. Because they only like themselves. They hate everyone else. I only like Gerald."
She wanted to take notes on this, but decided to keep this as a mental reminder. Usually, she would take notes whenever any of them talked to the boys, but Garrick was a special case. He was not hostile to anyone else, not even those who weren't his "kin". However, this case of non-violence would drive him mad, since the other boys were notably more hostile to others.
"Number 2?" she asked. "Why do you like number 2?"
"His name is Gerald," Garrick corrected. "I came up with it, because you came up with Garrick. And I didn't want to give him the same name. I like him because he's heroic."
The case of leadership was the main focus of this entire facility, and this was just another note to be taken. Yet, Garrick did not show signs of bowing down to leaders. He could only show respect, but not total obedience. He was an outsider.
"How is he a hero, Garrick?"
"He is nice to everyone, too. He sets an example for the others. But no one admires him for that. No one but me."
"Does he admire you, too?"
"Yes. We are friends. He says that there's a door…"
She fixed her glasses. "Yes? A door? What door?"
"I shouldn't be telling you this."
"You can tell me."
Garrick then noticed that she wasn't doing anything to the clipboard, unlike the other scientists. "You aren't taking notes? Why?"
Dr. Lang gave her a motherly smile and caressed the young boy's cheek. "Because I trust you, Garrick."
"He says he knows how to get out. And he says when we are old enough, we are going to leave this place."
"Why would you want to leave this place?"
"He says that he knows there's something else on the other side of that door."
"I see."
Garrick shrugged. "Well, I guess I feel better now. I think I will go."
"Hey, why don't you come with me and we can go play with Elena? I think she'd like to see you. She always liked you."
"Okay," he smiled. "Can I bring Gerald along?"
"Sure, if that's what you'd like. You know, you don't have to be like Gerald if you don't want to be. Gerald is Gerald, and you are you."
Garrick looked up at her, his eyes twinkling. "But Doctor Lang, I never said I wanted to be like Gerald. I never said that at all."
--
Garrick headed up the subway steps, passing by a few people on their way down. The Brotherhood had cleared the subways, too, and was also hiring people to do construction on a new subway system, along with clearing most of the debris that had blocked passageways for years. People came and went now, though especially through here because Rivet City was close by. There seemed to be a market set up just outside the city gates, stretching on from the street down towards Jefferson Memorial, the site of Project Purity.
"I'm at the Memorial," Naomi said over his earpiece. "Meet me there."
"More briefing, Naomi?" he asked with suspicion. "You know it's dangerous to be in contact so often."
"This is about how you'd approach the situation."
"Oh. Another one of those personal questions?" Garrick muttered, passing a few pack Brahmin and heading towards the Rivet City gate. "It might behoove you to stay in your safe zone. Curiosity can be dangerous."
A scoff crackled over the earpiece. "Why do you say that?"
"Curiosity might even be fatal."
He turned off his earpiece and continued through the street, heading towards the Jefferson Memorial. Of all the places he had been in the wasteland, he was surprised that this was only his second time here. Had he been here during the times of Dr. James and Dr. Li, could he have made a change? He knew what kind of tool he was, and he knew that those who hired him should use discretion. If they had hired him, would he be the one in place of the mysterious Vault Dweller? He considered many things, even if he was not in total support. His mind wandered throughout his wonders.
Then his thoughts turned to Naomi, and her sudden crave for a psychological examination with him. It turned his stomach every time she asked him a personal question. She was a gorgeous woman, and he admitted that he wouldn't mind spending a night with her, but her inquiries brought him to sickness. He would have never thought that she would take such interest into how he works. Perhaps it was her strange way of getting to know him. However, he knew that he couldn't tell her about him so easily. Because it was dangerous. Literally.
Before he knew it, he was already at the front gate to the memorial, and heard a voice addressing him.
"Welcome to the Jefferson Memorial," an old man said. "If you'd like to wait, the tour guide will be here in a few minutes. Otherwise, enjoy yourself. Oh, and please don't touch things left behind by Project Purity. That's under examination by the Brotherhood of Steel. If you—"
He abruptly stepped into the Memorial. "Thank you."
Garrick abruptly snatched a pamphlet and edged by a few wastelanders examining exhibits that were set up to explain the significance of the place. But, the main attraction was the Project Purity remains, led by paladins of the Brotherhood themselves. He stepped forward and past the reception desk, eyeing the few old American remnants that were put up on display. The attractions that were set up would not draw his mind in any closer, however, as he suddenly found himself impatient, waiting for Naomi.
"Punctual as ever," a voice said behind him.
He turned around and saw her with a smile frozen on her features. "Anything interesting to say? Or can I book a room at Rivet?"
"What, and waste your time sitting in some claustrophobic submarine cell?" she asked. "Why do that when you could be out here?"
"Maybe I don't want to spend time with you."
Her jaw slightly dropped, appalled at his somewhat serious tone of voice. "You're mean, you know that?"
Garrick let out a quiet laugh, somewhat lightening the conversation between them. "Sorry, but if you're going to stick around, you'll have to put up with my remarks. Especially the scathing ones," he winked.
Naomi quickly handed over to him a memory drive, which he accepted unobtrusively. Garrick fixed his sunglasses, but remembered that he was inside, and folded them, placing the pair into his jacket pocket. The custom-tailored suit that the agency provided for him was probably the best he's ever worn. A pair of charcoal colored blazer and pants was blended nicely with the white, subtly striped dress shirt and silver tie. He might change his outfitting later, though, to more appropriately suit his contract.
"Come on, walk with me," she invited.
They began following the guide as they blended in with the tourists that looked either mesmerized or bored to sleep with the tour.
"Don't you have any other operatives to look after?" he asked.
"Yeah, but I don't like 'em."
"Because they don't like you, right?" he then questioned with the utmost sarcasm. "Wait. No. Maybe they're ugly. Maybe they suck at what they do. Maybe they're not cut out for it."
"Maybe because you're a jerk."
Garrick's conversational involvement had gathered speed. "So you don't like them because I'm a jerk? That makes you attracted to jerks, no?"
Before she could answer, he shook his head.
"Just kidding. Don't reply to that."
For a few moments, they neither traded words nor looks as the tour guide led them along, explaining the past, present, and likely future of what would happen to these memorials in what the Brotherhood deemed "The Second New World," which was a poor attempt to parallel the European travelers venturing into lands they thought weren't owned. He chuckled. Maybe it was a true parallel after all; an order replacing another one. Naomi stood by his side for the moment, relaxed, though he never managed to fall far below tense. He honed his senses on his surroundings even though he appeared relaxed, because, of course, he was being hunted. But, his attention span broke when Naomi left his side and stepped towards one of the exhibits. Her attractive fragrance caught his nose and he stared towards her, gazing at her figure while she crossed her womanly legs and stood at a relaxed and intrigued posture, far different from her usual business take on things. From way her arms crossed to how she let her dark hair drop freely to her slight rhythmic shifting in sync to the music playing in the background, he suddenly found himself staring at her even longer before noticing so.
Garrick faked a cough to break his own attention, casually strolling by next to her with his hands in his pockets, suddenly having no smart ass quips to spew out. She didn't attempt to turn to him, but instead stood fascinated by the exhibit.
"I still find it hard to believe after all these years," she noted as her eyes scanned around the Vault interior models that were set up. The Vault 101 model was assembled in honor of the Vault Dweller, and it showcased the simpler life cramped inside the tight spaces.
"Find what?" he asked, having nothing much else to contribute, somewhat still stunned by her sudden beauty.
She brushed some of her hair aside. "I find it hard that Vaults supported these people for so many years."
"Vault 101 was the last to open around here, of course," he then said. "When I was on that Moriarty Contract, the Vault overseer was there to collect provisions."
Naomi then turned to him with curious eyes. "How did that go? I heard you directly collected the reward from that ghoul."
"Yeah," he said, with no further explanation.
"Does that mean the job went well…or what?" she asked, uncrossing her arms.
He slightly tilted his head with a shrug to signify the ambiguity in his answer. "It went okay."
"So what happened?"
His mind came to the few moments he shared with that whore over at the saloon. What was her name again? He had forgotten, and it wasn't even that long ago.
"Nothing," he initially said. When he could feel her disappointment in not receiving an answer, he came out with it. "There was a whore."
"Okay…a little too much information there," she jokingly remarked, though knowing that she had just taken a hard blow.
"No, it wasn't like that," he said, staring at the Vault structure, noting its plain, grey hallways. They were similar to the hallways where he had come from. He remembered shining flashlights through them, beaming hopeless, wan pools of light along the walls and on the floor. "She worked for Moriarty. She wanted to leave."
Naomi then had a slight hope of nobleness from Garrick. "So you helped her?"
"No," he said. "She wanted to leave, but was too loyal to Moriarty. She needed him just as much as he needed her. I could only imagine how she felt when she discovered his body."
"How do you feel about it?"
He slightly smirked at her attempt, but only had honest answers. "Nothing," he stated. "It's already happened. And that's that."
A moment passed before Naomi spoke again. "I'm sure you softened her somehow if you're mentioning her now."
"Yes, in a way," he nodded. "She flirted with the unknown. And so it was that the unknown would take something from her."
"That's a demonic way to put it."
Garrick looked at his watch. He needed to get back. "It reminds me of a story, actually."
"Really?" her eyes lit up. "Share."
"There's a murderer once. No. Not just a mere murderer. A vigilante. He gets arrested one day, and is thrown in the nearest county jail, where he immediately becomes public enemy due to all the villains he's either locked up or hasn't killed. So, instead of keeping him locked in there, they wanted to test him for insanity by having a doctor come in for examination," Garrick explained. "So the doctor enters the room with the killer, both of them being viewed by the cops behind the mirrored glass window. The doctor begins to ask him a few questions.
"After a few weeks, there seems to be progress, but the doctor isn't convinced. He then asks the killer what had made him murder. When the doctor begins to demand an answer, the killer looks up. He says that this world is a hopeless one, full of endless lies amongst its pseudo-glory."
Naomi's eyes were completely locked onto him, listening and hanging on to every word that came out of Garrick's mouth. Now this was a real answer.
"So the doctor, now shocked, goes back home only to notice that his wife is no longer there. She had packed up and left him because he was so wrapped up around this murderer. All of his effort and energy was spent on this person, as if he had used all his time uncovering a truth. But he doesn't feel anything. It's just what it is. He doesn't feel the same anymore. Everything that he had ever believed in seemed disproven. He then accepted that this world is riddled with insincerity, full of bloated myths that promised hope and a future. This was his answer; his truth. His innocent curiosity within the morally void had backfired. And the murderer is like a ghost; an instrument of chaos that wrecks everything in its path."
She couldn't move after he finished his last sentence and was stunned to say the least. This was the first time she had heard Garrick speak for this long before. Garrick turned away from the Vault model and looked at his watch.
"I should get going," he said. "Look, it was nice being here with you. But I need to prepare. I'll take a look at the memory drive when I get to my room, okay?"
"Yeah," she could only say.
Garrick began to depart the scene, but before he did, he turned around to her, causing her to look at him.
"Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster," he said, "and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."
She was confused, but he continued anyway.
"Friedrich Nietzsche."
Then he turned around and left, disappearing after the next wave of tourists.
"But why did that happen?" she asked, concerning the story.
--
She shook the surprisingly cold hand of Harkness, the chief of security in Rivet City. Though he was always a strong, yet caring and supportive person, there was always something about him that never quite sat right with her. Something black behind those eyes sent chills up and down her spine, and rarely did anything else do that. But, whenever he noticed that she stared, he always seemed to look away. Sometimes she could even imagine that she saw somewhat of a red gleam in his eyes. Unlike most others, he was especially friendly to her, and the two established a strong relationship concerning the future of this wasteland.
"Evening, Ms. Lyons," he greeted. "May one of my officers take your coat?"
"Uh, it's fine Harkness."
He let out a controlled laugh. "No, it's okay. Jackson?"
"I insist, Ms. Lyons," one of the officers, Jackson, said.
She nodded, uneasily accepting the hospitality of Rivet City. "Um, thanks."
When the officer took the coat, Harkness turned to them and nodded. "Excuse us, gentlemen."
One of the officers chuckled. "You're the boss."
The two walked along the carrier, and for awhile, there was only silence, both staring in opposite directions and seeing only planes. Sarah played with the fabric of her pants, but before long, she noticed the quiet.
"So, I see your relationship with the rest of security is quite…"
"Informal?" he then said, seeming to have taken the word right out of her mouth.
She nodded. "Yes."
"Well, we aren't a large bunch, so the security team is like a second family to most. Since our main goal is survival, naturally, we're all on the same team."
"So I guess that kind of makes you coach, right?"
"Nope. Team captain."
She nodded, pleased by his word choice. "Nice. I guess I'm kind of a team captain myself, then."
"Yeah," he cleared his throat, somewhat nervous. "But, enough of this small talk. We should really discuss the real issues."
"I agree," she nodded to his straightforwardness.
"Your father is going to give a speech tomorrow. I will offer all the security that you will need."
Lyons half-chuckled. "Well, in times like these, I wouldn't say that security is an issue."
"Can't ever be too sure," he shot her a look, surprised by her assuredness. He somewhat expected more of her, but then again, she was human.
"You're right. It's just that everyone is looking forward to this. There are crowds and crowds outside, just waiting for the world to come back to them," she told him.
How naïve, he thought. It was always that way with human subjects, even the strongest, most intelligent, most influencing humans. But he was human, too, right? He can laugh, become angry, and empathize, right? Harkness didn't know, honestly. Whenever he tried to connect with these humans, it was never pleasant, even though he made it so. There was always something new that he did not understand about them. There was something more. He had to know why. He had to know why she believes that there is a 100% rate of success. He had to know why there was no stress in her voice. He had to know, but he was afraid.
"I'm just here to keep the peace, Miss Lyons," he then told her. "Plus, honestly, I'm just a bit cynical like that."
"You're right," she nodded. "You're right in every way. I'm getting careless. All of this change…"
From far away, they heard some shouting.
"Sentinel Lyons!" a voice called. "Your father wants to see you."
"Be right there!" she replied, waving at the messenger. It was probably one of the new initiates.
"Gotta go?" he asked.
"Looks like it."
"Surely, you'll stick around for dinner with the Council? Ms. Li would love to have you with us."
"I'd be honored," she told him.
He watched her walk off, noticing her womanly strides breaking through her usual masculine body language. Ever since Harkness learned that he was an android, he had been insecure about himself, even though he never showed it. Each calculation, each thing he got right was disturbing to him. It was a thing he noticed about humans. It was their imperfections, such as leaving the clothes in the laundry for too long, or forgetting where certain things were. He never made these mistakes. The laundry? Based on the humidity of living on an aircraft carrier, he always knew to leave clothes in the dryer just a bit longer. The keys? They're in his room, inside the drawer next to his bed and turned to a 90 degree angle like they always were, just to signify that there was more than one key. He always knew where everything he saw was. His mind could sort through databases of information in just a few seconds. And he hated it.
This was why he did what he did when he could no longer bear being an android, frustrated and angry with himself. He did what he understood most about humans. He went to Pinkerton and erased his memory. He lied to himself.
--
Garrick opened the briefcase with the agency's symbol etched near the handle. He stood in a hotel just outside Rivet City. Naomi had informed him about the tight security that would be set up there, so he had to settle for something of lesser quality. Examining the semi-automatic rifle that was disassembled, he took the pieces and put them together, the cold metal warming up with his touch. This time, there was nothing discreet. He had to go loud. He read the note that came along with the parts.
Garrick -
Here's your toy. You're still open to different methods on executing this contract, so this isn't a definite option. By the way, I got that iron oxide and aluminum powder you requested. And since you forgot, I got them to scrounge up some magnesium strips for you, along with a container. Can't take any chances, can you?
It was in Naomi's handwriting. He shrugged and set the note aside, eyeing the separately packaged fine-powder aluminum and iron oxide, both in balanced metric measurements. There was also a weak, but easily sealable metal can about the size of a hand grenade that came with it. He was planning to create thermite, which can burn up to 2500 °C. A simple mix of aluminum and iron oxide could burn a concentrated path through metal. The magnesium strip was to be placed at the edge of the grenade for the flame to burn up. Before Garrick continued maintenance on his weapon, he noticed some more writing on the bottom of the note.
And please be careful. You don't know if you're expected.
He scoffed. They wouldn't expect a direct confrontation. This kind of execution was an unexpected tactic for him, and it would definitely keep his enemies guessing. He tried not to feel more curious about the people hunting him, assuming that it was all business. But, he couldn't get it out of his mind; that there was something more to this. Could this job be escalation? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe they'll back off. Maybe they'll stalk him ruthlessly. Maybe they'll destroy his agency. Maybe Naomi could die by tomorrow. Maybe he'll have to ditch the Capital Wasteland for somewhere else.
His mind returned to Naomi's comment at the bottom of the note. Why was she showing such concern for him lately? It was very unusual, but it wasn't unexpected. She always seemed to be at his mercy, even if she was in a somewhat more authoritative position. Why would she care for him now if he never cared for her in the first place? It was something about people he never understood. He could never work his mind around the thought of good nature, because frankly, he'd never seen it. If he did see it, it would result as a bluff used to manipulate someone into doing something. People were always out for themselves in this world—wasteland or not…right?
And that's why he saw no difference; no change in this sudden uprising of government. A gunshot is the same in a civilized world as it is in a wasteland. The reactions of people don't matter, whether they're savages or civilized. What matters is that a bullet has been fired and it hit someone. If someone is killed then that's that. He hated how people enjoyed overcomplicating things, because the world was so much simpler. It's neither bad nor good; neither hot nor cold. It's indifferent— lukewarm—just like he was. Perhaps there's a reason to all this madness people are searching for. But he had an explanation for himself already. Garrick understood the true horrors of the human condition. He understood the lunacy involved in the everyday struggle for survival. He understood perfectly, and he didn't care.
There's a quote by Edmund Burke he read about once. It was fairly hard to find since most of the literature was pseudo-patriotic, anti-Communist bullshit. Edmund Burke said, "All that is required for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing." He always questioned why people would draw lines between good and evil. Most people see things from inside the box; others, from the outside. But Garrick, however, questioned why there was a box in the first place. Why can't people just acknowledge the fact that they won't change a thing about their nature? This was the hypocrisy he saw in the social structure.
And yet, he didn't care. He enjoyed the sins and good deeds of human imperfection. A wise man would have tried to spread his word as a philosophy. The wisest of men realize that there's no point in fighting. Just be.
The contradiction to him, though, was that he dropped his views whenever there was a job. And what was most important to him amidst the social paradoxes was that he did what he wanted. It was the true beauty of this world. Garrick finished cleaning the gun and put it away. He would have to get ready by tomorrow.
--
There were claps, roars and cheers from the crowd up on the bridge of the aircraft carrier. Sarah Lyons greeted Dr. Li, Bannon, and Harkness on her way up to meet her father, who was ready to address these people. To be honest, she had never seen so many gathered into one spot. Her father gave her a rough grin before he headed up to the second level overlooking the bridge. Proudly, but cautiously, she led him through the door to the balcony. She had to be cautious because she had just received word last night of Colin Moriarty's death. He was one of their more powerful collaborators, and it meant that someone was out to disrupt the order.
The council, Sarah, and a few bodyguards joined Elder Lyons on the balcony but stood back as he began to speak. He stared at the crowd down below, gently smiling and examining many happy faces. These were good people; they were the future. He held his hands out to quiet down the crowd. The energy eventually subsided and left room for him to speak.
"We are here today to acknowledge the future," he started off. "To those of you who don't know who I am…I am Elder Lyons of the Brotherhood of Steel."
Sarah scanned the area with her eyes, realizing that there were quite a few security guards out. Why was she so worried? She noticed Three Dog—accompanied by Knight Dillon—in the crowd, who subtly waved at her. She gave him a smile, then returned her sights to the patrols, watching their every move.
"We gather here from all corners of the wasteland. I see people of all races and styles. I realize that there are reformed slavers from Paradise Falls who are here to witness this speech. For this, I am truly thankful.
"How long, my good people, have we fought in this desolate piece of dirt? How many deaths have happened in our backyards? How many of us have we killed? Amidst this strife, there are a few of us who never gave up. A few of us even returned to the light. My people…my…children. You are my sons and daughters. You are the strength in my arms. You are the carriers of the dream. The dream of civilization. With the spark of hope generated by the Vault Dweller, at last change can occur. People, we can change. We can change the way we live. We can even flourish. The fight from now on will be difficult, because it is not a fight of guns but a fight of humanity. It is a fight with ourselves to drag us out of this dark era. And only we can do it. We can, and we will."
There was a cheer in the crowd, numbering in the thousands. The entire half of the bridge was full. She noticed her father turning around to give off a proud smile, and she returned one, too. Sarah was proud of him.
"The Brotherhood is strong. Though I have led them for all these years, I can no longer do so. From this day on, I am passing leadership to a much more capable person," he spoke loudly, catching a few ears from the Brotherhood members. Sarah's attention quickly snapped to the speech. "This person, who I hold dearest to my heart. She is the light that shines whenever there is darkness. She is stronger, smarter, and more capable than I will ever be. With the power in me, I bestow the title of leadership to my daughter, Sentinel Lyons."
People should be surprised, but somehow they weren't. Sarah Lyons had become quite the popular woman ever since Project Purity. Everyone came to know her as a dutiful heroine as well as a powerful leader. She was more capable than she thought she was. Shouts and cheers erupted from the crowd as arms reached out into the sky. Her father turned around to look at her, gesturing for her to come stand next to him. She walked slowly, tears building up in her eyes.
"Congratulations," Harkness said. "You deserved it. Go ahead."
She stepped forward and embraced her father, but instead of breaking down into tears, she remained strong and faced the crowd, waiting for them to grow quiet.
"The road ahead is tough," she began. "We've already started making progress. I can tell you now, my brothers and sisters, that change is coming. We will stand victorious in the end. I will lead you through the troubles ahead, but I cannot do it alone. You must be willing to contribute to your future, as well."
She slightly turned to Harkness for just a bit, remembering what they spoke of yesterday.
"A leader is nothing without the team," she said. "And the Brotherhood doesn't fight for selfish reasons. Our Brotherhood is not searching for technology. Our Brotherhood fights for you. Our Brotherhood is yours. People of the wasteland, let everyone know of the change that will spread afar. Tell them that they no longer need to hide from raiders, scrounge for food, or hide in fear. Tell them that change is coming, and anyone who stands in the way of goodness will be destroyed. Spread the word into each dark corner, into each ends of the ruins, into Megaton, into Canterbury Commons, and into the heart of darkness. Tell them that the light is here."
Cheers roared once again, even louder than before as she turned around to face her father and the others, who gave her applause. Her words were high and mighty, but Sarah knew the amount of work that was coming. There were thousands gathered here, but that's only a good handful. It will be a long road ahead.
She turned back to face the crowd, but noticed something different. The security personnel were gone.
There was a breath of pleased laughter that nearly froze her spine completely.
"A very fine, exuberant speech, Miss Lyons," a voice joined in on the balcony with a few slow claps. He came through the door and his guards had seized the Brotherhood bodyguards and took all weapons away. "Really, that was touching."
Sarah's eyes caught the insignia on the man's uniform. It was Talon Company. What were they doing here? The crowd then shouted and screamed as Talon mercs seized the area, enclosing the crowd into one tight spot. She backed away until her hand felt the cold balcony railing. The man stopped clapping and he gave a complacent smile.
"Talon Company?" she then said. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"
Talon Company usually travelled in smaller packs. Why would such a huge garrison seize an area like this? They were some of the biggest assholes in the wasteland, but doing things like this was uncharacteristic of them.
"I am General Harrison Moss," he said. "And I am here with a proposition for you. Would you care to listen?"
"Like I have a choice," she remarked.
"Please. Enough with the smart-ass statements, Miss Lyons. Allow me to introduce to you a friend of mine."
He scooted out of the way and a man stood in next to him. He was a fairly old man, just a gap older than Dr. Li—probably in his mid fifties. A touch of gray was brushed into his slicked-back hair and he was dressed in a suave all black suit with tinted glasses that finely complimented his rather sharp, but aging, features.
"You!" Elder Lyons immediately said. "I remember you! Sarah, don't listen to anyth—"
A hand quickly pistol-whipped the Elder on the jaw and shut him up, sending him to the ground. Sarah reached out and tried to stop the Talon merc, but they had guns, naturally.
"Stop it! Don't hurt him!"
"People should just learn to shut up sometimes, no?" General Moss said. "Miss Lyons, allow me to introduce Doctor Henry Campbell."
"My, my," Campbell started off. "You've grown into a fine young woman, Miss Lyons. You don't remember me, of course, but I remember you."
He turned to Elder Lyons and the others, who were just far enough away that Sarah couldn't protect them.
"Owyn, it's a pleasure to see you again. How's Rothchild? Tell him that mechanical developments still haven't made much of a difference. Not these days," he said. Then his attention turned to the other doctor within the vicinity. "Ah, and Dr. Li. It's nice to see you, too. You've actually made some success with Project Purity. It's too bad you only had to lose James and his son. What a shame."
"What do you want?" Sarah then asked.
"Ah, yes," the doctor said. He paced around for a few seconds before answering. "I am looking for a man."
"It's not an android, is it?"
Harkness rolled his eyes to her question.
"No. I do not represent the Commonwealth. I come with the few remnants of the former Enclave Science Department. We are looking for someone who will hold definite rewards for you."
"You're doing a good job of convincing," she said, glancing at the guns in each merc's hands. "If it benefitted me, you wouldn't have made an entrance like this."
"You honestly believe I could come this close to you without getting shot by Owyn himself? The man hates my guts," he said. "This man I am looking for, he holds the key to our mutual success. You and your Lyons' Pride will go looking for him. You're obviously more capable than some of these Talon mercenaries."
"Why do you want this man?"
"This is a new age, Miss Lyons. And I'm not going to step aside and let some limping Brotherhood take over this glorious wasteland. Consider this my campaign for the rule of the wastes. And consider this your dropping out of the race."
General Moss slightly scoffed. Some Enclave troopers rushed up onto the balcony, too, and it confused her. Why was Talon Company working with what was left of the Enclave?
"And if I don't look for this man?" she asked.
"Then your father will die," Dr. Campbell said. "Take him away."
"No!"
The Enclave troopers walked over to Elder Lyons and zapped him with an electrical device, rendering him unconscious. They lifted him up and took him away, shutting the door behind them. The doctor nodded and drew his magnum, heightening the tension between them. He walked over to Harkness and kicked him to his knees. Campbell then scooted over to Bannon and forced him down as well. When he pointed the magnum at Bannon, Sarah's eyes widened.
"Do you care for any of these people?" he politely asked her.
"Yes," she stated desperately. "Please, stop pointing that gun around."
"Don't do what he says, Sarah," Bannon said, his hands behind his head. "He's just going to use you. That's what the Enclave do. You should know this better than most—"
A shot penetrated Bannon's head and it painted red with scraps of flesh along the ground. The body fell forward and collapsed to the ground, blood now spilling out of what was left of Bannon's head. Dr. Li collapsed and let out a cry, scooting away towards the corner of the balcony. Sarah's mouth was wide open in shock, realizing that Dr. Campbell had just shot Bannon. The crowds down below screamed with the shots, but were quickly silenced by the Enclave and Talon members down on the bridge. They were already being evacuated.
"There. Now you know how serious I am," he said. "I left a briefing folder in your room. Be sure to look at it, or you'll be picking up the pieces of your father scattered throughout this wasteland you're planning to change."
He signaled to Moss that they were heading out. Sarah fell to her knees and tears began streaming down her cheeks. In just a few moments, the circumstances had changed, and the hill to success now steeper than it has ever been. Could things get any worse?
"When am I going to get paid?" General Moss asked the doctor.
"I assure you that you will receive handsome payment."
Harkness wanted to go over and console Sarah as the Talon mercs were planning to leave, but he saw a flicker of light in the distance atop a building. He tried to hone in his sight and see what it was, exactly.
"Well, this is a fucking mess, Doctor," the general remarked. "You have any idea where this subject of yours is hiding?"
"There's no time, General. Get your men to clean up this mess and we must discuss our business here," Campbell said. He turned to the still shocked Sarah Lyons. "As for you, my dear Sarah, you'd best collect yourself and take a look at that briefing file. Then we can discuss things. "
The doctor immediately left back indoors, but the General decided to stay outside for a few more minutes. There was a quietness to the air up there as the crowd downstairs was being dispersed by the remaining Enclave and Talon Company troops. The only sound up there was the noise of the wind. The man waited a moment and pulled out a cigar to smoke. After awhile, he smugly chuckled and walked over to Sarah, still on her knees, gathering her thoughts. Harkness didn't react, instead still staring off into the distance. The moment was odd and detached for some reason.
"Yeah," he then said with a stretch. "That doctor is one crazy man. Looks like we'll be collaborating. I can give you extra help of course, if you do something for me."
The sexual tone that he took while addressing her only infuriated her.
"Get the fuck away from me," Sarah said, returning to a sharp state.
"Oh, so that's how you like it? You're a feisty one, I can tell," he said, squatting down to meet his face with hers. "But don't worry, babe. You'll see that I'm not so bad once we start getting this search thing up to speed."
She could only warn him. "Get. Away."
He sighed and stood back up, turning his sights to his men. "Come on, idiots, get someone up here to clean this shit up. Otherwise someone else will be cleaning up two dead bodies tonight, you got it?"
Sarah glanced over to Harkness and wanted to call him, but noticed that he was focused on something. She looked over her shoulder towards one of the old buildings and saw nothing. Perhaps he was just staring into space?
"Come on, you idiots, get moving!" General Moss shouted. "I swear to God, there will be two bodies for you to clean up—"
She was just about ready to stand up and speak with Harkness when the entire upper half of the general's head was blown to bits following a rifle shot that rang in the distance. The crowds shrieked even more, since this was not a controlled assault, and they began to scurry. Seizing enemies on the bridge couldn't hold back the crowds that were desperately trying to leave. Panic ensued between everyone. The two Talon mercs with General Moss looked around and wondered what was happening. Sarah turned again to look into the distance, and noticed a shadowy figure disappearing from a rooftop. She tried to get past Bannon's dead body and check up on Dr. Li and Harkness while the frightened Talon mercs and Enclave troopers futilely shot at the shadowy figure who was too far out of range. Mercs and soldiers immediately began to chase after the figure, wondering where he or she went. Small artillery fire was unloaded onto the roof, but they were all too late. The killer was gone, yet they still scoured around.
Pure chaos in the form of one bullet.
Well, that'll be it for this chapter. I know that it was a bit slow in the beginning, but I was building up the foundation for later chapters. I hope to get the ball rolling soon, since I know reading (especially on a computer screen) can get boring if the story isn't entertaining, even if the story has some of the best subject matter to discuss. I plan to provide a balance and at least make the story go somewhere. Thanks for reading. Hopefully, chapter 4 will be up soon.