Chapter 2

People Are Very Strange II

"If you can't remember, the claymore is pointed towards you."

-Unknown

2278

Spies try to get used to the idea of people wanting them dead. It comes with just about any mission you do. Even if you're doing simple scouting (that's what I do when I'm sent on missions alone), you have to keep your eyes open in case someone is nearby. The idea is, you get used to the idea of gunfights around any corner, but those gunfights only rarely come.

Very rarely is a spy sent on a kill mission with the Brotherhood of Steel, but it happens. Milly wouldn't last against all of Evergreen Mills alone. There are dozens of raiders pumped full of chems, so they aren't good shots, but... there's power in numbers.

They intended on sending Milly and a few paladins, but I wanted to go, and Dogmeat will be damned if someone else orders him to do something.

The intel we were working with suggested that someone on the Brotherhood of Steel's list of 10 most wanted was hiding out in Evergreen Mills. His name was "Smiling" Jack. I think it was actually "Smilin'" Jack, but the Brotherhood likes its grammar. He was wanted for "aiding and abetting known hostiles against the Brotherhood of Steel", which basically means he did something that Elder Lyons didn't like. I don't know the gory details (Milly studies the files for our missions), but our intel was good in the sense that "Smiling" Jack was in the area.

Our intel didn't tell us that they had a Super Mutant Behemoth caged up and angry. A Super Mutant Behemoth is... they are legends. Some people have seen them (Milly claims to have killed one before, but I don't believe her), but they aren't seen enough to be confirmed as existing.

They are typically between 30 and 50 feet tall, and can take a lot of abuse. Even a .50 caliber round, which can be lethal for a Deathclaw hardly makes a Behemoth flinch. Supposedly. Anything that uses .50 caliber rounds were illegal in D.C before the war, so they aren't in the area.

The point is, they are very difficult to kill. The thing took all the abuse we threw at it (it nearly crushed Dogmeat and I), and we had to flee into a nearby building and wait for it to rage its way into the wastes somewhere. If it turned up again, we'd finish it.

Now, avoiding the attack of a Behemoth sounds relatively easy, but add attacking raiders to the mix and you have quite a few bullet wounds (the Behemoth attacked us and raiders alike; it was an equal opportunity asshole).

In the end, Milly staggered into the building with a bullet in her leg and her armor all but shredded, my torso was littered with bullet wounds, and Dogmeat had a clean entry and exit wound towards his hindquarters.

That wound should have killed Dogmeat, but he's a tough old pooch. His is a unique case among mutants: he has a high tolerance for pain and injury, and what should be a lethal wound may not be for him... but even with the mutations born of radiation exposure (he thinks he's sterile now), he managed to keep his coat. He's strong, but... nobody is immortal.

In this case, Dogmeat needed his wounds cleaned and dressed, and Milly needed the same thing. Once they were both dealt with, it was my turn... but since the threat was still live (we locked up the door in case any raiders tried to follow us), all I needed was a stimpack to keep me going.

In regards to "Smilin'" Jack, I like to say that though my claws took his life, it was Milly who controlled the arm. I may not have been able to fight through the raiders in the building (most were outside) if it weren't for her quick patch job.

He had a hell of a shotgun, though. I don't recall the name of the type it was (shotguns make too much noise for my liking, even as a kid when I admired guns and didn't yet know how poorly I controlled them), but carved into the side was "The Terrible Shotgun". I had to agree with the name. He managed to shoot me in the gut, and I was lucky to be a reasonable distance in the room, or else it might have done some considerable damage. I wasn't sure if Milly was a fan of shotguns or not (she would use one from time to time, but never really talked about it), but I decided to take it to her after I was done with Jack there.

She had a bolt-action rifle that she called "Bolt", and she was starting to refer to her Steyr AUG as "Cookie Monster", because modifications that she was never able to quite undo made its fire rate above average, and so it used more ammo more quickly.

I kept trying to get her to name one of her handguns "Crime" and another "Punishment", but she thought that was stupid. Her rejection of those names made me scrap my idea of naming her armor "Shit Happens".

I digress. The fight between the raiders inside the building and I did not last for longer than five minutes. I took additional injury before Jack, but being a Deathclaw, I could shrug off injuries from raiders with awful weapons (the Enclave had some good quality weaponry and aren't always drunk or high when we encounter them, so they are far more dangerous).

"Smilin'" Jack was entrenched when I entered the door and he fired three times. Two of the shots weren't on target and missed me altogether (some of the spread hit a raider cowering in a corner), and the third got me, but I was far enough away for the injuries to be minor. Shotguns are close-ranged weapons. Anyone that tries to use them from too far away is an idiot.

Additionally, anyone that fires upon a deathclaw three times before realizing that the gun wasn't fully loaded to begin with is either drunk, or very stupid. "Smilin'" Jack was both. The worst thing you can ever hear while fighting a deathclaw other than another deathclaw approaching would be the sound of your gun being empty.

Some people try to resort to melee weapons, such as knives and swords. That just doesn't work. Deathclaws are hard enough to kill from a distance. Close quarters combat is where a deathclaw is most at home. Drawing a Jim Bowie on a deathclaw might as well be the equivalent of offering a shave and a haircut. And you get ripped to shreds as payment.

I mention melee weapons because that was the mistake Smilin' Jack made when his shotgun was empty. What's more, he thought he could kill me with a pen knife. There are some unusual ways to kill a Deathclaw (I had a buddy that claimed he threw a grenade down a Deathclaw's throat before, and I believe him), but you just can't do it with a pen knife. A pen knife wound is the equivalent of a paper cut for a deathclaw. I know because I got a few paper cuts in that fight before I took him down.

To his credit, Smilin' Jack lasted longer than most people do against my claws. It took three or so hits before he went down. For a human with little armor on, that was impressive.

After taking him out and picking up his shotgun, I walked back to Milly. When I got to her, she managed to treat her leg, but she was relying on the uninjured one. I frowned, and approached as quietly as possible in case the Behemoth showed up.

We would've had some backup, but a stray bullet destroyed her walkie talkie in the chaos outside. All was silent when I got to her, and I could hear no commotion outside, either.

Milly's Steyr AUG was also shot and rendered useless. She was stuck with either her Walther P99 (given to her not long after we destroyed the Enclave's final base), or her Beretta Tomcat (a weapon she carried in an ankle holster for last ditch efforts at staying alive. So far, she still hasn't used it).

She chose her Walther over the Beretta Tomcat, because the latter is a very small weapon, and is not suitable for crowd control (granted, a handgun isn't the best choice for multiple targets). I handed her the shotgun, but even she didn't know what kind it was.

I sort of wished that Smilin' Jack started reloading the shotgun, but he couldn't. He didn't have any ammunition left for the weapon, so it became essentially baggage. I thought we were just going to make a run for base now, but Milly still wanted to free the slaves from their pens. I told her that we should just leave, but she told me we had to see if the slaves were alive first.

So, we unlocked the door as quietly as we could, and Dogmeat poked his nose outside.

"The big green man is gone. The raiders out there are either dead or dying. No danger."

I double checked, and he was right. The Super Mutant Behemoth fled into the wastes, and the smell of blood and soft groans indicated the truth in his second statement. We went outside, and Milly executed the dying raiders (there were only four), and then we checked the slave pens.

There were massive dents in the metal bars that made up the cage, and one or two slaves were killed by the Behemoth before it got bored and left. I know the Behemoth could have broken through the cage after a few hits, but I guess it wanted to find something easier to kill. The raiders unintentionally saved most of their slaves.

"I'm going to get this cage unlocked," said Milly. She approached, and Dogmeat followed her. I was about to follow, but something caught my eye on a rocky outcrop not far off.

"I think I see movement," I said to Milly, pointing at the silhouette arousing my suspicion. She drew her pistol (as if she could do anything about the possible attacker), but nodded her head towards the rocks.

"I don't think I can make a shot from here. I can't even see it. Go check it out, Cord."

"Want help?"

I started towards the silhouette, and I shook my head. "I got this."

I made my footfalls as silent as I could while I approached. Whatever I saw got down from the rocks, but not quickly, so I thought it didn't know I was coming. When I was close enough, I ran around the rocks to try and surprise whoever it was, but he was expecting me.

At least he wasn't hostile. It was the time-era-challenged man. He was simply poking at a fire with a stick, and I started to wonder how he got it going so quickly.

"Remember me, Cord?" he asked while poking his fire. I nodded my head.

"I wouldn't forget someone dressed like you," I said. He didn't aknowledge my statement. We were both silent for a few moments.

"You never told me your name," I remarked. He was silent for another moment, and then put the stick down and started trying to warm himself with the fire.

"So, in the end, you saved that dog."

I did.

"Does it feel... familiar to you, Cord?"

"Does what feel familiar?" I asked. He wouldn't make eye contact with me.

"You seeked out that dog for the same reason you seeked out Milly: Someone told you to do it. You did it because a stranger told you to. You know what I think?"

"Who are you?"

"I believe that you have many more attachments to higher ups than you think. You won't admit it, but Milly is your master, just as I was your master a year ago, just as John Henry Eden was your master a year ago. You make a convincing animal, Cord."

"Milly is my friend. She is not my master, and you were never my master. I don't have a master. I only looked for the dog because it was the right thing to do."

"You looked for the dog because something told you it was right."

"It was innate."

"How is an innate feeling that tells you something is right any different from a person telling you something is right?"

I was silent. Finally, the man looked at me.

"She decides where you all go and when. She praises and scolds, smiles and frowns. She owns you."

I didn't know who this man was, but I knew his type. He's the sort that feels good when others are angered by his statements. I didn't want to play his games (I tried to stay civil with him), so I put my paws to the sides.

"What can I say? I'm whipped without being in a relationship."

I only caught the slightest trace of it. This man was good at staying stoic. If I blinked, I would've missed it... but for a brief moment, I was able to see... it was almost disappointment on his face. It was as if he was prepared to argue some more, and my light joke defused the situation early.

The look was there for only a moment, and then the man kicked dirt over the fire.

"Cord, one of those slaves needs medical help. Milly can't help him without proper supplies. There is a medical crate not far down the road with plenty of supplies in it. Why don't you take it back to help the man? Or just take enough to help Milly with her injuries. The man isn't anywhere near his old home and so his death is very likely either way."

"Who are you?" I asked again. The man stayed by what was once his fire, and he began to ignore me. Knowing I wasn't going to get an answer out of him, I decided to look for the medical crate he mentioned. I knew that it wasn't going to be too far out of the way, because as we approached Evergreen Mills, we passed by a crate with a red cross on it, but because it wasn't mission critical, we left it behind. It wouldn't be a problem for me to lift, but it was far too bulky to carry.

So when I did lift it and start carrying it back to Evergreen Mills, I was more or less defenseless. The crate was so bulky that I couldn't throw it very well. It wasn't a weight issue, it was a size issue. I wondered what it was doing there before the war, but I couldn't very well find out, could I?

When I looked back at where that man was when I saw him, he was gone. So too were all traces of the fire he was tending. It was like he was never there. I didn't stop, but that bothered me for a long time.

When I waddled back into view, Milly was trying to tend to the injured slave. Needless to say, when I showed up with the crate, she eyed me in wonder.

"How did you-"

I didn't think she would believe me if I told her some ghost directed me. Instead, I told her I figured we could use it for her injuries, and it was lucky the slave was here, too. She bought my excuse, and inwardly I wondered how bad lying to her like this would be.

I'm not intent on betraying her ever again. I won't do that twice in a lifetime. I was just thinking to myself... and I was so deep in thought that I zoned out, and when I came to again, Milly had the slave stable, and she using a crutch to move about without me.

I never exactly understood what was wrong with the slave (I never really asked), but I do know that when he was able to (Milly shot him up with adrenaline so he had some energy), he hugged her gratefully and even approached me with a grin on his face.

"Thank you!" he said, his words practically dripping with gratitude.

I didn't do much but smile back down at him.

"You saved me from death!"

I didn't say much else as he walked back to the other slaves. They weren't as happy to be free as he was. They felt like there were plenty more raiders nearby, but the Behemoth actually killed just about everything that wasn't in a building or a cage within a half mile of Evergreen Mills (I think). As it turned out, they fled to a place called the "Temple of the Union" for protection. It is where all escaped slaves go, and it is where I might have ended up going if Milly and I never teamed up.

After Milly further treated her leg, I carried her all the way back to the Citadel. Once the story was relayed to Elder Lyons, we were all given down time for our injuries, Milly's armor was repaired, and "Smilin'" Jack was crossed off the Brotherhood's Most Wanted list.

As for the Behemoth... well, let's just say it decided to see what would happen if it messed with a little place called Tenpenny Tower. I hate the guards and the man that owns the place (he's also wanted, but he's too connected to be dealt with), but I have to admit: they're pretty good if they can take down a Behemoth before it even gets to the gate.

I wonder how Caterina is doing...

End of Chapter

2,985 words.

I don't really have much to say about this chapter, but I can say that the next few chapters are going to zoom through a few years.

Next chapter covers an attack on Fort Bannister in 2279.