We were gathered around the table in Rosa's old place. It was me, Mikhail, Preston, Sturges, and the newest member of our impromptu council, Goris. Mikhail stood at the head of the table, his pipboy's holographic projector hovered just above eye level, the 3D map of the Commonwealth projected over the table. Goris and I were the last to arrive.

Preston nodded to us as we entered, "Alright, everyone's here, let's get started."

Mikhail held up a hand, "Almost, we're still waiting on one more."

Preston wasn't the only one confused, I raised an eyebrow, "And who else is invited?"

Sturges was tinkering with some bit of machinery or another that I didn't recognize. "Technically, this isn't a council or anything, just a bunch of us meeting in my new workshop. So nobody really needs an invite."

Preston shot him a look. I almost had to laugh, it was adorable in its own way, how professional and official he was so desperate to seem. Still, I was curious. "Who are we waiting on Mikhail?" I earned a few curious gazes of my own at the question. Probably because I asked in Russian.

My question was answered by Mikhail's wolfish grin, and by Asher walking in with a machete in one hand and a wet sack in the other. Preston and Sturges stared, I looked between the boy I'd found in Concord and the Russian. Goris was inscrutable beneath his hood.

You've been in the business far too long when you know exactly what a man's head in a sack looks like. Mikhail asked, "is it done?"

Asher nodded, looking a little green, though that could have been because of the smell. "Da ser." He tossed the bag on the table, he'd knotted the opening to keep the bag closed. I wondered if Mikhail had told him to do that, the first time I delivered a head in a bag, nobody had told me to do that and when I set the bag down, the head rolled out.

Mikhail took the head and set it in the, non-functional, fridge. The seals still worked, so it helped the smell at least. "Good, keep the blade, I've got a hundred of them. Come, join us." He motioned for Asher to take a place at the table.

He did as he was bid, earning a look of confusion from Preston. I gave him a nod, offering a reassuring smile his way, and sending a message with my eyes to Mikhail. We'd be talking about this later. He just kept grinning in response, "Shall we get started."

There was a moment of silence as no one knew who was supposed to go first. I decided that it might as well be me. "The raiders at Walden Pond are off the board. Five hostiles dead, three hostages rescued, and one ally encountered, Goris." I gestured to Goris.

Who took his cue to introduce himself. "Thank you for that, Rebecca and the children didn't deserve what they went through, I only wish that we could have saved Mark." I assumed those were the names of the woman whose family we'd rescued, and the husband who'd been killed.

Preston was the one to respond of course. "I'm sorry we weren't able to help more, but it's an honor to have you all here." He cleared his throat, "I went to Tenpines Bluff last night and met with their leader."

I smirked, "Let me guess, they're sympathetic to the cause but need proof we're worth their time."

The minuteman looked at me with a mixture of irritation and embarrassment. "Yeah, they'll put their support behind us, but only if we can clear the raiders out of Lexington."

"Perfect, so they'll help, but only after we don't need their help." God, I hate coalition building.

That just made Preston more irritated, "Our goal is to help people, whether they're helping us or not."

This man had a hero complex so huge, I'm surprised he didn't wear a cape. Don't get me wrong, I respect his intentions, but idealism can only go so far, eventually you have to figure out how to do the job. Still, no point in fighting over the issue now. "Mikhail, how'd recon on the sat station go? And perhaps you'd like to elaborate about the head in the bag."

Mikhail folded his arms and laughed, he was having way too much fun with this. "There is good news on that front." He brought the hologram in on Satellite Station Olivia. "I was able to get close enough to jack into the satellite array, the ISA network is still active. The satellite array here on earth and the network in orbit are locked in safe mode, but if we can get inside and enter the authorization codes…"

"We can get full satellite support." That meant comms, surveillance, full access to our database, possibly even orbital fire support. With that level of support, securing the region would become housecleaning more than anything else.

Mikhail nodded, "Exactly, I counted about twenty four hostiles, six on the surface at any given time, an irregular rotating guard schedule, they sent out a raiding force of about eighteen, armed similarly to the force in Concord, one was armed with a minigun, female, cackling like a lunatic."

"That's Ack-Ack, I've met her, she's almost as insane as Jared." This was Asher, I had my eyes on his shoulders and throat, looking for signs of a panic attack, thankfully I found none. "She likes to have people thrown off the walkway on the satellite, tries to kill them with her minigun before they hit the ground."

Ah, delightful woman. It made sense though. In my experience with groups like this before the war, their leaders ruled through fear, they needed to commit acts of extreme brutality on a regular basis to keep their people in line. "I've been inside that place, if we go in hard, all they have to do is seal the security doors and wait us out."

Mikhail didn't respond for a moment, then he looked at Asher, "What do you think we should do?"

I threw him a blink-and-miss-it glare, and turned to Asher, ready to offer him an out. The thoughtful look on his face gave me pause. He didn't look too far out of his depth, I'd give him a shot, jump in if he needed help.

Asher laid the machete on the table and eyed the hologram, for a minute or two, he didn't speak, just looked. Then, just when I was about to move in to cover him, a look of recognition sparked in his eye, he had it. "Back home, in this old submarine berth, part of it was underground, all of it was under a bunch of concrete and there were only two entrances. One was a door to the outside near the top, the other was underwater. I used to poke around, they had a vent system, if it got clogged, you couldn't breathe." He pointed to a small box on the edge of the perimeter, "There was a box that looked like that, I figure if you turn that off, and seal the doors from the outside…"

A cocksure grin only a teenager could pull off broke across his face. "Won't even have to waste the bullets."

Mikhail nodded, "Not bad, but not exactly."

The grin faltered, I stepped in. "Too clean, and too slow. It's a big bunker, suffocation would take days, and we need disfigured corpses to dump on Lexington. We'll gas the place, then go in and put a bullet in the head of anyone still twitching." Asher nodded, good, he knew enough to learn. I turned to Sturges, "if I get you a shopping list, you think you can come up with what I need."

"Depends on what you need," Sturges scratched his chin. "But yeah, I'll do my best."

"Hold on a damn moment." Preston slammed his fist on the table, making it shake so much I feared it would collapse. After two hundred years, I was amazed it was still standing. "What the hell are we talking about here? Gassing people, dumping bodies in Lexington," He gestured towards the fridge, "whatever the hell that is. This isn't the way the Minutemen are supposed to work. This isn't what we're about."

Mikhail was diplomatic. "Preston, we're just trying to clear an enemy out of a secure position. As for Lexington, it's the same situation. Standard psychological warfare tactics, we scare them into making a move, fracturing, coming at us, doing something to get them into a less favorable position. We're securing the region, helping people."

Preston wasn't convinced, "So let's do it the right way. We have the T-45, we have enough guns and ammo to outfit an army. Let's hit the raiders at the satellite, if they lock us out, we wait them out. And that nonsense with Lexington needs to stop right now, the Minutemen are symbols of hope for the Commonwealth, we can't do that if we're stooping down to the raiders' level."

Well that was pointless, I looked at Preston, "you done?" I wasn't feeling so diplomatic at the moment, before he could respond, I turned to Sturges. "Smith had a drug lab in his basement, that's the house at the curve of the street, his ventilation system won't be functional at this point. Take Jun and Asher, disassemble his stuff and get it up top where I can use it."

"Hey, are you even listening to…" He trailed off when I looked back at him with a laser glare fueled by my nuclear reactor eyes. Thank you mom, your eyes were the best gift I ever could have gotten from you.

"No," I shook my head slowly as I spoke, "Perhaps you'd consider saying something worth listening to." This was good, it was better to get this out of the way early on. "Preston, the problem here is that you are letting your idealism blind you to reality." A common problem among regular army troops before the war, that's why I stuck with special forces as much as I could.

I held up my hand and counted as I spoke. "One, you are under the impression that you are critical to what we're doing. I'm not listening because I don't have to. Since we met you, Mikhail and I have done all the heavy lifting in terms of combat, we have made all the plans, and to put it bluntly, you've done almost nothing." I gestured to the two at the table who now stood in uncomfortable awkwardness. "Sturges and Asher have been of far more use than you have."

I raised another finger, "Two, I don't much give a damn about resurrecting your failed organization. I'm only playing my part in this in order to guarantee a safe fallback point and secure resources for the search for my son. Mikhail might wish to use the name in order to open doors and make connections through their reputation, but we can make do without it, or use it regardless of you. So what the Minutemen did or did not do, or what they would or wouldn't do, could not be further from relevancy."

Preston was literally shaking with rage as he stared daggers at me, that didn't bother me. I've broken bigger and more dangerous men than him. I raised the third finger, "And three. If the Minutemen were anything like what you've described, I can see why they died out. They were quite simply, morons. Morons that, I don't know how long they lasted, I'm shocked lasted more than a year. The way you describe their method of operation, the 'right way' as you put it, involves a massive waste of time and resources for no gain whatsoever." I was reasonably certain that they hadn't operated that way, considering how well known they seemed, they must have achieved some level of success. Preston was idealizing them in an odd sort of mental memorial to the fallen organization.

I folded my arms. "The concept of a fair fight died with the advent of the machine gun, and intelligent leaders disdained the concept long before that. The right way to conduct combat operations is the way that guarantees your victory, ensures the survival of as many of your people as possible, and minimizes the expenditure of time and resources. Not the way that looks best in the movies." That last bit didn't work as well as it would have two hundred and ten years ago, but the reference hit its target. I unfolded my arms and put my palms flat on the table, leaning forward. "Preston, if you don't like the way we're going about things, that's fine. You're free to leave, as is anyone who wishes to join you, though I doubt anyone other than Marcy would, though she would drag Jun with her."

Preston Garvey wanted to kill me at this point, that was fact. I wish to make it very clear that I do not enjoy this, Preston wasn't the raider from the night before, he was a good man desperate to protect his people, desperate to atone for past failures, and desperate to be a hero. I could understand that, I could respect that, I could admire it even.

But I couldn't use it. "And I'm sure that you would lead them quite gloriously to your deaths or enslavement, just as you always have."

That was the final push, the straw that broke the camel's back. Preston suddenly went very still, his expression morphing from rage to shock and back again. Then he exploded, "Fuck you! Fuck you and your standard fucking tactics! The Minutemen have stood for over a century, and they'll stand just fucking fine without you."

His hands curled into fists, and I expected him to come at me. I give him credit for being smarter than that. Instead, he just stormed out of the house.

There was a tense silence for a moment after that where you could have heard a pin drop. I turned back to Sturges. "So how's this secret project of yours going?"

Sturges scratched the back of his head, not looking me in the eye. "Good, gimme another two days and it'll be ready."

I grinned, trying to defuse the tension. "Any chance you're going to tell me what it is?"

Sturges actually managed to smile a bit at that, "not until its done ma'am, not until it works."

Mikhail took over, "Alright, I think that's enough for now. Let's meet again tonight."

Sturges took that as his cue to leave. Asher stood there, unsure of what he was supposed to do. "Asher," I kept my tone pleasant, he'd just seen the cruel side of me and I didn't want to spook him. "Why don't you go help Sturges with the drug lab?" He nodded, taking the hint, and grabbed his new machete before darting after Sturges.

Mikhail grabbed the projector node and reattached it to his pipboy. "That was far harsher than it needed to be."

"I have to concur Madison; you could have been a touch more tactful." Goris spoke from under his hood, his gravelly voice somehow neutral and reproachful at the same time.

I shrugged, "I don't think so, but it had to be done."

Mikhail gave me a look, but didn't disagree. "You could have been a little more gentle though. I know you have not spent much time with him, but Preston took a long hard road to get to Concord."

This is why I love working with Mikhail, we complimented one another, in skills and, usually, in perspectives. "Maybe, but that needed to be hard, and we don't have time to hold everyone's hand. Besides, now I'm the bitch so you don't have to be."

Mikhail nodded, acknowledging the truth in that. "Perhaps I have missed something," Goris tapped one of his claws on the table, earning a wary stare from Mikhail, reminding me that he didn't know what Goris really was. "But could you explain to me why that was necessary?"

I turned to him. "Preston needed to be broken, he wants to do things his way, or the way they did in his old group. We can't solely exist to support what little pride he has left. He either needs to be broken and rebuilt to serve our interests, or moved off the board entirely. How he reacts to this decides which one that is."

Goris's hood hid any expression he might have had. "I see."

Speaking of hand holding, "What was that shit with Asher?"

Mikhail opened the fridge and pulled out the head, allowing the oh so delightful smell of decomposing flesh to fill the room again. "Sending him to retrieve the raider leader's head from Concord, or asking his input on the Satstation Olivia op?"

I'd have to find a more private moment to reveal Goris's true nature, I could see Marcy staring at us through the paneless window. "Both, why didn't you talk to me about it beforehand?"

"Walk and talk, I've got a prisoner at the gas station." He started for the door. "I didn't talk to you first because I realized you were right to recruit him. I stopped seeing him as your charity case and started seeing him as a real asset."

."

This was good, but half of my mind was still pissed. "You still should've come to me first, I don't want to see him hurt."

Mikhail eyed me warily, concern taking form on her face. "Madison, what is with you and this kid?" He paused, lowering his voice. "Is this because of Shaun?"

What? I shook my head, "No, this has absolutely nothing to do with Nate or Shaun."

Mikhail met my eyes, he was one of the few people who could tell when I was lying. When he saw that I wasn't, he nodded in acceptance. That was good, because I wasn't entirely sure if I wasn't lying to myself. "He is my first recruit for the reformed Vympel. You're right about Preston, he doesn't have the… moral flexibility required for it. He'll be great for standard operations if he gets over this, but he was never meant for special forces."

At least we were on the same page on that. I couldn't argue with his logic, Asher did need a role in this fledgling community, a reason to give people like Marcy for his presence. And he already knew how to shoot a gun, wasn't in terrible physical condition, had a modicum of intelligence and a familiarity with the human landscape. And his time with the raiders meant he had the proper mindset for the moral gymnastics that being in the Vympel required.

It was a sound tactical decision. I just happened to dislike it.

"So we're sending the head to Lexington with this prisoner?"

Mikhail nodded, "Psychological warfare, it's like wooing a gold digger, all about the little presents."

I laughed, "Yeah, I already sent them one last night."

Mikhail laughed too, "I grabbed mine off the perimeter of the satstation when he went for a piss. Knocked him out from behind and left him to stew in utter darkness in the gas station's garage. He should have screamed himself raw by now."

I laughed even harder at that, we were both going to hell for being sadistic pricks..

But at least I'd be in good company.

…...

Sup guys, I don't much care for Preston, can you tell?

I don't know what it is, but something about his personality just pisses me off. I don't even know how much of it is in-game and how much is just my imagination running wild. At some point, in my mind, Preston just developed a huge holier than thou attitude and superiority complex that needed to be torn down.

Perhaps I'm just insane. I'm kidding of course.

There's no perhaps about it.

Either way, this is another one that I'm not too sure about. More and more I'm having to force this stuff out. My Dragon Age stories, my Skyrim story, and my Andromeda story are really calling to me. Still, I'm going to keep pushing as best I can. By the way, to those of you who have left reviews, thank you, I love you guys, that stuff makes my day.

R&R Guys, until next week.