Author's Note: Dun dun dun! Part 7 is finally revealed! Lol, anyway I feel like this chapter took forever to get finished. Sorry, I had a really stressful week. This chapter is mostly dialogue, but there is a brief fist fight. I want to thank WastelandScavver00 for adding me and this story to favs and alerts, and thanks to Gurab for adding this story to favorites. Thanks to my loyal readers, you guys are awesome ;) I really hope you like this chapter, and as always, enjoy!

Wasteland Survival Part 7

He walked through the front gate of Megaton, the rusted and aged metal groaning as it shut behind him. Commander Jabsco had met with Burke last week. Apparently some guy had cost Burke a hefty job, and he was pissed about it. Jabsco told him to come here and find out who did it, without showing that he was a hitman and investigator of course. What stuck him as odd was that he had to find out who it was and not kill the guy yet. They had worked for Burke many times before, and Burke always knew who he wanted dead. And he wanted them dead ASAP. Burke didn't care how they took care of the target, as long as they were dead and Burke was shown an intact head as proof of the kill.

He studied the picture in his hand. It was a hand drawn picture of the apparent target. He scanned the faces of every settler that he passed, growing more frustrated every time he looked at someone. He sighed heavily and started towards the building that was marked Moriarty's Saloon. He pushed the door open, immediately liking the town more.

The aroma of alcohol and thick smoke welcomed him inside. It was the kind of place where you went and got piss drunk, then stuck a knife in someone's ribs if you pleased. Sure, they'd kick your ass out, but they'll always let you back in to lap up your caps like a dehydrated Brahmin. He walked over to the bar and sat down in a stool next to a man with a shaved head and a goatee He was an older guy, but he looked like he was a drinker who could take a hell of a punch and send it right back.

"Vodka," He said to the ghoul bartender. He didn't mind ghouls, so long as they didn't go shuffler on him and try to eat his brain.

The man next to him looked over, clearly intoxicated. "Never seen you around. You with the caravans?" He slurred.

"Nope. Just looking for an old friend. You wouldn't happen to know him, would you?"

He downed another shot of whiskey, his head tilting back so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. "Probably. I know everyone in this dumb ass town. What's he look like?"

He pulled the drawing from the pocket of his pants, then pushed it at the drunk.

The drunk took the drawing and studied it for a minute, his worn face twisting in rage. "How the hell are you friends with him? Yeah, I'm very familiar with Ray. He disarmed that gad damn bomb, so now he's the town hero, but everyone still has the balls to come running to ol' Jericho when the Raiders come for playtime!" He slurred, pointing at himself with the last sentence.

"Do you know where I can find him?" He asked, downing his glass of Vodka in one drink.

"Yeah, he lives at the first house on the left when you come in through the main gate. You must be as much of a goody two shoes as him if you guys are friends," Jericho spat, turning away with disgust before flipping him the bird.

He gently placed his now empty glass on the bar. He didn't say a word as he grabbed Jericho's still extended finger and twisted it backwards. It audibly snapped and Jericho let out a small cry before spinning away from the man and away from the bar. He swung a sloppy, but powerful blow for the man's head. He easily dodged it, then let loose a barrage of quick punches at Jericho's face. Each swing hit, connecting with Jericho's face in rapid and powerful succession as they slowly drove him backwards, his hands rising in an attempt at trying to cover his face and head. The punches stopped, a last powerful wallop knocking him backwards, toppling over a table and a chair as he fell. Gob's eyes widened in surprise as Jericho fell. Jericho never lost a fight and he only walked away if Lucas Simms showed up.

The man smoothed out his shirt, calmly looking at Jericho's downed form. "Thanks for the info," He said with a nearly insane grin. He turned back to the bar where Gob slowly raised his arms, his eyes wide, his bladder nearly on the edge of emptying itself. The man gave Gob a curt nod as he placed a few caps on the counter to pay for his drink, then turned and headed out the door.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS ALL THAT FUCKING NOISE?" Moriarty roared from upstairs.

...

*A few days later...

Ray sighed in relief when the gate to Megaton came into view. The trip home had taken him a lot longer than expected. His ribs were aching as if they were being tap danced on by a Super Mutant, his legs were strained and tired, his stomach empty and guns nearly devoid of ammunition. He had been using the machete instead of his guns, allowing his enemies to get closer than he liked. He sprinted away from the bigger foes and fought the smaller ones. It still wasn't easy. He wasn't the best with most weapons unless he was riding on a hell of a lucky streak or he was too scared to die. The sudden burst of fear fueled adrenaline was usually enough to make him a sharper shooter or a heavier hitter, but it was still a challenge.

Ray was pulled from his thoughts by the heavy metal gates of Megaton creaking open, welcoming him inside. He gave a small wave to Stockholm, Megaton's sniper who stood on a catwalk above Megaton's main gate. Ray wanted to go home in collapse in bed, but he had to take the letter to Gob first.

...

Ray pushed open the door to Moriarty's Saloon, and was surprised to find that it was nearly empty. Gob was busy cleaning glasses, while Jericho sat at a table in the corner, looking more worn than usual. The radio was playing quietly, echoing some happy tune that Ray couldn't make out. He walked up to the bar, taking a seat and sighing with relief as he could finally take a break. Gob looked up and Ray was surprised to see that Gob didn't break into a smile as soon as he saw that Ray was back. Instead his face looked worried.

"What's wrong? Moriarty being hard on you today?" Ray asked, confusion highlighting his tone as he took out Carol's letter and pushed it toward Gob.

"Moriarty's hard on me everyday. That's not what's wrong. Something really weird happened when you were gone," Gob began, tucking the letter into his back pocket.

"What are you talking about?" Ray said, his brows pulling together.

Gob placed the glass on the bar. "This guy came in here, he seemed normal at first, but he started talking to Jericho a-"

Ray burst out laughing. "Wait wait wait! He willingly spoke to Jericho?" He laughed harder.

Gob didn't laugh, he didn't even grin. He stared ahead, his eyes as serious as death. Ray's smile slowly sunk upon seeing Gob's expression. "He was talking to Jericho, asking all these weird questions. He said he was looking for someone, then he showed Jericho a picture of you," Gob said.

"A picture? What, like a photograph?"

"No, it was a drawing. A good one too, not some typical Wastelander crap. Then Jericho shot his mouth off and gave the guy the finger. The guy just put his glass down, really calmly, then grabbed Jericho's finger and snapped it like a twig. Jericho tried to hit him, but that guy just knocked Jericho right on his ass," Gob finished, his milky eyes wide.

Now, it was Ray's turn to be surprised. Who could be looking for him? He didn't know a lot of people in the Wastes and his parents never told him about any other family members. As far as he knew, he hadn't pissed anyone off besides... "Burke," Ray slowly spoke.

"I don't think it was him. Lucas wouldn't let him back in town anyways. I don't know who it was. I've never seen him before," Gob responded, grabbing a rag and beginning to wipe the bar.

"Still, he could have hired someone. Burke is definitely not stupid. Plus, right before he left, he said that I had no idea who he was, so he must have connections." Ray said, taking his arms off the bar so that Gob could wipe the bar beneath them.

"Well there's not many power players these days. There's The Brotherhood, The Enclave, Talon Company, and Allistair Tenpenny. The Brotherhood and Enclave are all that really matter though. Maybe he's with the Enclave?" Gob offered.

"Maybe. We can root out The Brotherhood. I ran into some of them in DC. They didn't try to kill me and they helped me, so they're fine. Who's Allistair Tenpenny?" Ray asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Some rich guy who started this place called Tenpenny Tower. It's apparently paradise in the Wastes if you got the caps or connections to get in there. I tried to get in a long time ago, before I was enslaved. They hate ghouls and normal Wastelanders, bunch of bigoted, rich assholes if you ask me," Gob said, his ruined face twisting up like he'd smelled something terrible.

"Seems like Burke would fit in perfectly with that crowd. The guy that came in here, what did he seem like?" Ray inquired.

"That's hard to explain. He seemed like a normal Wastelander at first. Wore normal clothes, ordered a normal drink. Then he laid Jericho out, put some caps on the bar smiled at me and left. His smile, it was creepy though. It wasn't that normal cocky smile of victory that most people get after they win a fight, it was sadistic, twisted. Seemed like he'd make an excellent Raider. But, if he was a Raider, he wouldn't have cared about a disguise or provoking someone into attacking him, he would've just shot the place up wearing Raider armor and bringing his buddies. Might have been an independent merc or Talon Company," Gob concluded.

Ray let his head fall to the bar. Great, just what I need. A psychotic company of hitmen after me, he thought. He sighed and looked towards Jericho. He sat quietly in the corner, one of his hands bringing an entire bottle of whiskey towards his parted lips, his other had a finger in a splint. His face looked even worse than usual, his left eye swollen shut, his lower lip swollen and busted. His nose looked as though it had been twisted back into place. "Damn," Ray muttered quietly.

"I told you that guy kicked his ass."

...

Jabsco walked through the immaculate hall towards Burke's room, his shiny metal black combat armor had been replaced by his usual metal armor. It had tall, sharp spikes covering the shoulders while the rest was plain, thick metal. His unique Talon Company combat helmet still sat on his head.

He made his way through Burke's room and out onto the balcony. Burke stood there, leaning on the railing, his cigar perched between his fingers. "It's about time I heard from you. What did you find out?"

Jabsco sighed. Nice to see you're still being an ass, Burke old pal, he thought bitterly. He had a sudden urge to push Burke over the railing, but he ignored it. "I sent one of my best investigators out. He managed to find that our target is a man named Ray. He is the guy in your picture and he lives in Megaton. The first house on the left." Jabsco said, a smooth grin of self satisfaction growing on his face.

Burke spun around. "Don't look so satisfied. The job isn't done yet. You shall receive payment when he is dead."

Rage filled Jabsco's veins. "Hold up! We had a deal! You pay me half now, you lying sack of Brahmin sh-"

"And your surprised I lied?" Burke interrupted, taking a puff from his cigar as his grin grew into a full grown smirk, "It comes with being under my employ, dear boy. Maybe you're even stupider than I initially thought."

Jabsco rushed forward, grabbing Burke by the collar of his jacket. He shoved his Scoped .44 magnum in Burke's face. "You kill me, you won't earn a single cap, and your entire organization will be destroyed by my employer," Burke said with a smug grin, taking a puff from his cigar and blowing the smoke in Jabsco's face.

Jabsco's anger ebbed slightly with the truth in Burke's words. Then there was a chorus of guns being cocked behind him. "Checkmate," Burke said, exhaling more smoke. Jabsco sighed, holstering his weapon and dropping Burke back to his feet.

"Please gentlemen, allow us to privately discuss business," Burke said, waving his cigar hand dismissively at the security guards. The lead guard nodded in response and led the team away. "So, my offer still stands now that you are familiar with the target?"

"Yeah," Jabsco said, looking at his boots. Burke was a lying, crooked sack of crap, but the offer was too good to pass up. "I'll send a team for him soon."

Author's Note: Blam! There it is! I feel this chapter was somewhat short, but it is still longer than the last one.