Piper was worried about Allen, for numerous reasons, not the least of which being the Mentat he just threw back.
"You ought to be careful with that stuff, I don't expect that's the kind of habit you're looking to form."
Allen didn't respond, he just glared at the sky.
"Looks like rain," he finally said. "That's a problem. Dogmeat's no bloodhound, the scent is faint enough as is. If it starts raining we might just loose Kellogg's trail."
"Blue," Piper started, "Are you sure?"
"I know dogs, Piper."
"That's not what I meant." Piper scolded.
"It's just a Mentat. Way back when, we'd need to take one on long missions. It's no big deal" Allen defended.
"Do you want your kid to have a junkie for a father?" Piper asked, starting to sound frantic. She'd heard this song before. Allen, for his part, ignored her.
As they paused by a lakeside, there was a chair and an ashtray.
"Here's hoping this is Kellogg." Allen said, holding the ashtray out for Dogmeat.
"Here's hoping," Piper said with a pout.
She didn't think Allen was junkie, not really. But Piper knew as well as anyone what loss could do to a person. She'd seen mourning and guilt destroy people; if Allen didn't stop for breath he might as well put a gun to his head and pull the trigger.
"We need to hurry," She heard Allen mumble, "Dogmeat, can you hurry?"
Oddly enough, Dogmeat yelped started to trot a little faster.
"Blue, when was the last time you slept?" Piper asked.
"I'll sleep when Shaun's safe and Kellogg is dead." Allen answered.
"That's not what I asked."
"That's none of your business." Allen snapped.
"Yes, Allen, it is."
"Why?!" Allen shouted whirling around. "I'm a story and you're an asset. Let's not pretend."
"Is that all you think you are?" Piper shouted, standing her ground. How dare he! A story! Piper cared about people; it was kind of her thing. "Is that all Nick and I are to you?"
An asset! Piper had never felt so used, so trivialized.
"Of course not!" Allen backpedaled.
"Then what, Allen?"
"Piper…"Allen said settling down a little.
"What are we?" Piper asked again.
"You're not Shaun." Allen admitted, sounding defeated.
"Blue.. Piper started. "
"No wait," Allen interrupted. "There was literally nothing good left in my life before I met my wife, then everything about my life was great. And then, things got better…I had a son, everything was gonna be fine. And you know why?"
"Why," Piper asked, knowing she should.
"Because I meant it to be. I was strong and smart and I would take on every goddamn government in the world if it meant my family would be safe." Allen was gaining steam, "But Nora's dead, and my son is missing. If he's suffering then I will never forgive myself knowing I couldn't protect him when I needed to." Allen threw his hands in the air "So dammit Piper as long as there's breath in my lungs I'll be looking for my son. Wouldn't you do the same for Nat?"
She would.
"Fair enough."
"Now, let's go."
The pair and their sniffer dog took off. The plan was to make a mad dash for wherever the hell Kellogg was hiding out, but then…
It started to rain.
They tried to keep going but eventually Dogmeat led them in circles.
"Blue!" Piper shouted over the pouring rain. "We need to go back to Diamond City."
"The scent isn't going to refresh itself, Piper, this is as far as he'll take us."
"Then we'll search together, tomorrow."
"No!" Allen called out. "I can find him, I know I can!"
"How?"
"I know his type, I know what kind of place he'll set up shop."
"How do you know that?"
"I just do!"
"I can't just let you run off like this, Blue"
"It's not your decision." Allen replied taking out a stealthboy. "I'll see you later!" He said, fading into the rain.
"Dammit, Blue!" Piper whispered, staring at the rain trying to find the telltale stealthboy shimmer. She was brought back to reality by Dogmeat, ass with a nudge and a whimper he made his discomfort known.
"C'mon boy" Piper said, patting the dog "Let's get you out of the rain."
"Where's my son, Kellogg?" Agent Marks demanded.
"If you wanted a happy reunion you won't get it," Kellogg replied, his tone somewhere between harsh and sympathetic.
"I won't ask again, Kellogg." Agent Marks demanded, chambering a round in his 10mm
"I know you won't. I'll give you credit it's the way a father should act. The way I'd be acting I like to think," It was almost a compliment, even as he drew his own revolver. "He's doing great - only he's not here, he's with the institute."
"How do I find them?" Marks asked, lowering his gun.
"You don't," Kellogg answered, "They find you. Now, are you ready?"
The agent sneered. "I'll make this quick."
On his best day Agent Marks would have been able to kill at least four Kelloggs and small army of synths. Today was far from his best day. He hadn't slept in days, he'd ran halfway across the Commonwealth several times, killed dozens of people, ghouls, and synths. He'd stormed buildings with Minutemen, Brotherhood of Steel paladins, and reporters. To be frank, the fact that he was even conscious was a testament to his physical abilities, and an indicator of the amount of Mentats he'd ingested.
Needless to say, Agent Marks was having a bit of trouble.
Kellogg was a thug, and he fought like a thug. Brute strength enhanced by a brutal life (and admittedly, cybernetics).
But his training kept Agent Marks alive. His training killed the synths in the room, his training shot a circuit breaker plunging the room into relative darkness. But even training was risky.
When Kellogg threw a wild haymaker, Agent Marks lifted his left arm to block, but cybernetically enhanced limbs can be a bitch to get in the way of. And Agent Marks right arm fractured, the pain forcing him to the ground.
Kellogg was ready to finish everything, but the Agent was a persistent bastard. It was over quickly, a hidden knife to Kellogg's foot, a few quick strikes, a stab to Kellogg's throat. In less than a few seconds Kellogg was dead on the floor, lying next to Agent Marks, who was just tired enough to take a breather.
Agent Marks should have felt relief, or satisfaction, or anything really. But he felt nothing; things like grudges had been stamped out of him a long time ago. You don't become a spy and expect everything to be wrapped up nice and neat, you get used to the idea that you don't get to act with the Intel gathered, see the individual lives saved, or even see the end of the war. Agent Marks was used to letting things go, truthfully, he could have forgiven Kellogg, if he hadn't been in the way. But now Kellogg was dead, and with him, one would assume, any Intel.
Luckily, Marks knew better. Luckily, Kellogg was balding. Which made the brain implant obvious.
Agent Marks recognized the concept - an external hard drive, designed so that there was no danger between "intel gathered" and "intel protector with a gun." If Kellogg had one….there was likely info Marks could use. So he got to work.
He just had to hope he did it right, he wasn't a brain surgeon, after all.