Chapter 7
Bargaining
"My most brilliant achievement was my ability to be able to persuade my wife to marry me."
-Winston Churchill
I held the intel out to Three Dog. He stared.
"When Cord died, I found this on one of the Legionaries that attacked us... it's intel on their movements, camps, and territories."
Three Dog sat on the bed next to me and looked at the intel. I offered it to him, but he didn't take it.
"You're planning on stirring the hornet's nest, Mil. This isn't the Enclave. These guys... they're plain scary. I don't know what you think you can do, but that intel isn't going to make you bulletproof."
I stared at him.
"I know a guy that can hook you up, but... I think you already know about him."
"Who is he?"
"Mil, before I tell you about him, you have to understand that even talking to him will reap consequences."
"Who is he?"
"...and I'm not just dead sure he won't try to kill you once he sees you. He's not a fan of the Brotherhood."
"Three Dog..."
"He's good with guns, Mil. He's real good..."
"Three Dog."
He finally stopped and listened to me.
"Who. Is. He?"
Three Dog took a breath.
"He's a Russian immigrant. Ex-Spetsnaz sniper. Nikolai Rascalov. Maybe... you've heard of him?"
Nikolai Rascalov, as far as I was concerned at the time, was a name on our Most Wanted list. Nothing more. He was second on our list. He's a known terrorist regarding the Brotherhood of Steel. Rascalov was responsible for attacks on the Enclave and the Brotherhood alike. Lyons would pay big money to get his head on a platter, but he knows how to vanish.
"I've heard the name," I said.
"I only mention him to you because I know you're angry enough not to tell the Brotherhood that I know where to find him."
"Slow down, Three Dog. What does that guy have to do with my plans for the Legion?"
"Weren't you listening? He's former Spetsnaz; Russian special forces. He's a drunk, but he'll be able to direct you, and he might even assist you."
"Why would he assist a Brotherhood member?"
Three Dog stood, and walked over to a counter where a coffee maker was sitting. He started pouring two cups of coffee (I declined mine).
"Nikolai is, by all accounts, a crazy, obsessive son of a bitch. He's crazy in the sense that he's as likely to shoot you as he is to shake your hand, and he's obsessive in the sense that he can't stand watching someone walk into a battlefield with a half baked plan if he knows the answer."
"My plan is not half baked."
"I don't think it is, but if you want him to help you at all, you should make it seem that way... considering you'll risk being around him."
I stared at Three Dog.
"I'll find another way. Where can I find him?"
Three Dog started stirring his cup of coffee.
"Head to a bar in Andale called "Comrade's". Nikolai will be the only one in there drinking all the Vodka."
I smiled.
"Take the back out of here and avoid the Brotherhood. Oh, and uhh... be careful around that cat. Let's just say... 'crazy' is an understatement."
0_0
That's why I was absent from Galaxy News Radio when morning came. I was on my way to Andale. I turned off my radio so I didn't have to hear the Brotherhood calling out to me.
They weren't sounding so angry. It sounded more like they were worried about me.
"It's sort of like that time in the Vault with Amata, Dogmeat."
Dogmeat looked up at me while we walked. I wanted to get his mind off recent events. He needed some time off.
"When we were 13, we snuck out past curfew one night. I don't know what we thought we would accomplish, but... I remember we wandered into places that were off limits, and Vault Security was sent to find us. Our parents were worried sick."
I smiled down at him.
"Once we were found, I got grounded for a week in front of the Overseer by Dad, but once the Overseer was gone, it was shortened to a day. He said I reminded him of himself when he was my age."
The way Dogmeat was looking at me, I knew he was listening well. That's one of the many things I can always count on Dogmeat to do. He always listens if I need to say something.
We kept walking, both wishing that Cord was with us. He'd only been to Andale once, and that was when we went there to wind down shortly after the Enclave, found out that the town was inhabited by a bunch of cannibals, killed the cannibals, and over the years, Andale went from a terrifying place that you avoided like the plague to a decent town with a really bad past.
The Brotherhood of Steel tries to avoid Andale, even now. It's rumored to be one of the first places that the bombs hit during the Great War (that's not likely, but nobody that was in Andale at the time of the Great War is alive to talk about it, and the dead are very slow to answer questions), it was hit hard by raiders over about 50 years after the Great War and so any settlement was destroyed, it became a Slaver's Den for a while, and finally it became a creepy place inhabited by man-eating men. That being said, it's considered cursed by quite a few people. It's got a population again (for how long?), but... that population would be a lot larger if Andale wasn't constantly getting crapped on by the Wasteland.
I wasn't sure the Legion would buy into the idea that it was cursed, but I didn't. I hoped it wasn't, anyway... because I was going there regardless.
When the three raiders we encountered attacked us, I had no patience for them. I wasn't wearing my best armor (I'd left it in Megaton before we went to Oasis), so I made a point to avoid being shot. I was wearing armor, but... it wasn't going to protect me as well as my Dragonskin.
Dogmeat in battle now was very impressive, though the same should be said of him previously. He was able to jump higher, run faster, and strike harder. Just the sight of Dogmeat's new "form" was enough to stop one of the raiders in surprise. There aren't many cyberdogs in D.C (they're more abundant out west).
Typically, Dogmeat would run his target down and latch onto the neck until the foe stopped moving. Though his jaw wasn't replaced (it was actually unharmed), he could rip out a foe's throat much faster and move on to another enemy before the first even got the chance to die.
Dogmeat's attacks were always vicious, but he rarely left someone suffering for too long. Neither of us liked killing, but when we have to do it, we feel better when our targets die quickly, or at least go unconscious so they don't have to feel it.
Dogmeat actually killed two of the three raiders, and I killed the last. Neither of us took a bullet.
We ran into a little more trouble during the rest of the trip, but I had my lesser armor as motivation to avoid being shot, and Dogmeat's new power was too much for the drugged up raiders we came across.
His new eye would glow menacingly when we were fighting. It was likely made to do that to eat away at the enemy's will to fight.
If that was the case, it worked, because some raiders we came across ran away. I wouldn't be surprised if a few opted out of the raider business.
The trip continued with Dogmeat and I walking. I made sure my radio was off and the antennae was unscrewed so my position couldn't be picked up, and I walked into Andale with hardly a look at the guard.
Andale was still a fairly small town. There were a few houses, and one building with a board that read "Comrade's Bar and Grill" in front of it. There was no doctor's office, and the only merchant in the town was the owner of the bar.
I could hear a radio muffled inside playing some Russian music, and I opened the door.
Comrade's was a musty old bar. There were a few booths, a bar, the radio, a backroom, a bathroom, and a few barstools. There were several people sitting in the booths, and two people at the barstools. Above the bar was a sign that read "STORE POLICY: Fuck yourself, no refunds".
Dogmeat stayed as close as possible to me for as long as we were in here. I don't have any tolerance for alcohol anyway.
"Come in," said the bartender. His was a heavy Russian accent, and he was a tall man. He had medium blonde hair, one lazy eye, a red nose, and he was wearing what may have once been a white shirt. He was cleaning a glass, and I looked side to side (one man sat at one end of the bar, and the other sat at the opposite side). One was drinking a scotch (he was on the far right), and the other was drinking Vodka.
I don't know what exactly he was drinking (the label on the bottle was so weathered that the bartender had to write "VODKA" on it in white paint), but he didn't so much as look up at me. I knew he was watching me with his peripheral vision, but he wasn't worried I was there to hurt him. He looked like he was more concerned about his "VODKA".
I sat next to the man.
"What do I get you, lass?" asked the Bartender. On his shirt, he had lovingly stained 'Dimitri P." on his left breast with what I hoped was some kind of ink. I gestured to the Vodka drinker with one thumb.
"I'll have what he's having," I said. The Vodka drinker snickered to himself (it sounded kind of like wheezing).
"Is a good choice," he said. "It's like drinking your way through time."
"How do you mean?" I asked. He didn't look over at me.
"Do you have the time?"
I looked at my Pip-Boy. "Yeah, it's... 4:30."
"I started at 9."
I chuckled softly, and he resumed drinking.
"Nikolai Rascalov?" I asked. He shook his head without looking at me.
"I do not know this Nikolai that you seek," he said, at which point Dimitri came back with my order.
"There you are... Hey, Nikolai, when are you paying your tab? It's due two days ago."
Nikolai rolled his eyes to stare at Dimitri. The latter was grinning, like he meant to call his lie for me.
"Damn it, Dimitri... you're supposed to be my friend."
"I'll be your friend again when you pay what you owe me!"
With that, Dimitri walked off to deal with the other man's order. Nikolai finally looked at me, and I got a better view of what he looked like.
He had brown hair, brown eyes, and the way he was sitting at the barstool made him look small and frail. He sat up straight when he looked at me, but he wasn't very muscular. Still, looking at the man was fairly intimidating, even to me. He didn't look very strong, but he looked like he knew how to fight nonetheless. His cheeks were rosy red and his teeth were fairly... disgusting. When he was idle, his upper lip would curl back a little, in almost a sneer.
"Alright, you found me. I'm not coming quietly. If you don't walk out that door right now, I kill you and make mess in this bar."
I stared. "What?"
"You wanted Nikolai. Only people that want Nikolai want to kill him."
"He's right about that," called Dimitri. "Pay, you son of a bitch."
We ignored him. Nikolai had a hand behind his back, like he was handling a gun. Dogmeat growled lowly.
"No, I'm not here to kill you, Nikolai..."
His hand left his gun, and Dogmeat stopped growling. Nikolai didn't pay much attention to Dogmeat. He stared at me for a few moments, and what I think was understanding washed over his face.
"Oh! You're here for that... right, uhh... let me finish my drink, and we'll do it."
"Huh?"
"Da, the flower sacks in back are very comfortable."
My eyes widened. "Woah, woah, woah! I'm not here for sex."
He looked at me. "Huh?"
"I'm not here to have sex with you..."
He stared for a few moments. "I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean... unless we already did it and I was too drunk to remember, in which case I'll be pissing away your child support given about another hour."
He started drinking from the bottle again. I sighed.
"No, I'm here to talk to you about something else."
"What's your name?"
"Milly. I'm from Vault 101."
He paused a moment, and then nodded knowingly. "Da, and you're also the girl that whores herself out to the Brotherhood."
I blinked, and Dogmeat growled lowly again. "I don't know about that," I said.
"I'll call you Milly, but it's going to sound a lot like 'Brotherhood Whore'. What do you want, Brotherhood Whore?"
I lifted my backpack onto the table (and nearly broke the Vodka bottle and glass I was offered).
"I'm here about the Legion."
"You mean the homoerotic Roman has-beens, right?" he asked. I nodded.
"I have intel that says that the Legion is trying for D.C-"
He stopped me abruptly, and turned in his seat to face me completely. He put his hand on my wrist and came in close to me. (His breath reeked.)
"Intel on the Legion is very valuable, because they go to great lengths to keep it... but we should not speak of these matters now. The Legion has eyes everywhere..."
He turned back to the bar, and started playing with his vodka bottle, managing to get one of the guys at the booths behind us reflected in the glass. Looking at Nikolai, I knew he did so deliberately. He tapped the bottle a few times.
"...Blind one of them."
The man was someone I recognized from the Citadel. He wasn't in the bar when I walked in, and he was eyeing me. When I turned to look at him, he got up and left.
He was a Brotherhood scribe. There was no reason for him to be out here. Spies and Paladins alike are trained to look for "JDLR" situations, or a situation that "just doesn't look right". This would be a prime example.
I followed the Scribe out of the bar, and saw him start running for the wasteland.
"Hey... hey!" I called. He muttered something into his hand, but I couldn't hear. Dogmeat and I started running after him, but Dogmeat sped up to catch him.
"Don't kill him, Dogmeat!" I called. Dogmeat nearly stumbled and stopped as if to say "Oh, come on!", but he caught up and knocked him down nonetheless.
I caught the Scribe (I couldn't recall his name), and had my P99 to his throat immediately.
"Alright, what's the big idea? Why are you following me?"
"I shadow you because it is Caesar's will."
I blinked, and then shook my head.
"I don't believe this... you're working with the Legion now?"
"Now? I've always been. How do you think our men found you? How do you think they got your picture?"
I stared at him.
"You should tell me everything you know about the Legion right now, before I take you back to that bar and see what those Russians will do to you."
"You're in no place to make orders, woman," he sneered. "You're through. You'll never destroy the Legion. Our men may not have managed to kill you with your deathclaw friend, but you are doomed to ruin. You are doomed to slavery, or a cross. Your dog is strong to have survived the crash, by the way..."
"Tell me about the camp in D.C."
"It's got flying anchors and jumbo shrimp."
I stared him in the eyes, and I started hearing a beeping sound. My head shot to his hand and saw him clutching a detonator.
"I believe we're done here," he said. I jumped off him and got clear of the blast, with Dogmeat.
Not far away from me was a walkie talkie. He dropped it when Dogmeat knocked him down.
It was tuned to the Citadel. I turned it off in case it was traced, and Dogmeat and I walked back into Andale, shrugged at the thoroughly confused guard, and wandered back into Comrade's. Dimitri's head shot up when I walked in, and he looked at Nikolai.
"I told you she'd survive," said Dimitri. Nikolai shrugged, and Dimitri held out a hand.
"Where's my 50 caps?"
"Put it on my tab."
I sat down on the stool I was in before I chased down the "Scribe". Nikolai had taken the Vodka I ordered and started it. It was just as well, because I had no intention of drinking if it could make someone's breath smell as bad as Nikolai's.
"Okay, he's dead," I said. Nikolai nodded.
"Fantastic."
There was silence. I picked up my backpack again.
"What are you doing?"
"I told you, I have intel on the Legion."
"Don't insult my intelligence, whore."
I blinked. He looked at me.
"You don't have intel on the Legion."
I took it out of my backpack and pushed it to him on the desk. He flipped through it.
"I guess I owe you an apology."
He was silent for a moment.
"Put it on my tab."
I looked over his shoulder at the intel. He shook his head and snickered silently.
"What's so funny?" I asked. Dogmeat growled lowly at him.
"The Legion takes great pains to hold on to its intel, so you having this is the spawn of one of two things: The Legionary you took this off of was an incompetent idiot that would have been killed either way, or they want you to see this."
I blinked.
"Why would they want me to see what they're doing?"
Nikolai started pointing at Legion territories on the map. "This isn't a mistake. You didn't get leverage on the Legion. This isn't intel. It's an attack on your morale."
I was silent.
"We did this in Russia. Send a fall guy to accidently lose sensitive information that suggests highly organized, powerful forces... and whoever you're attacking loses the will to resist. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all false."
I shook my head. "Caesar's arrogance knows no bounds. I wouldn't put using actual intel to try and cripple an enemy past him. I want to use it."
"Just what do you hope to accomplish?" he asked.
"Total extermination. If I can get forces to cripple the Legionary influence in each state, it'll make Caesar vulnur... what are you laughing at now?"
"Natural selection, that's all."
I was silent.
"The Legion is always ready for a head on attack. You won't last twenty seconds, not even with those you whore yourself out to... assuming they'll still speak to you. You're speaking to someone they branded a terrorist, you know. That carries heavy consequences."
"I don't care. I want Caesar dead."
"The only one that'll end up dead is you."
"I'll ride in with a few Vertibirds, and-"
"Do you think that your Vertibird crapped out midway to that camp by coincidence, whore? The Brotherhood has Legion plants, just like every other group in this dump. Someone rigged that Vertibird. You weren't supposed to come back."
I immediately thought of the Scribe that blew himself up a few minutes ago, and I couldn't think of a more suitable way for him to die.
Nikolai glanced at Dogmeat for the first time... ever, really.
"By the looks of things, it almost worked for one of you."
Dogmeat glared at him.
"...what if I just take a Vertibird straight to Caesar's Fort?"
Nikolai chuckled to himself again like I was an idiot.
"Fine, whatever. Go call for your Vertibird. Come back when you're serious."
"Well, how else could we get to Caesar?"
"I don't know... walk?" he said. I stared at him, he blinked, and he shook his head.
"No. No, no, NO. Not "we". You. How else will YOU get to Caesar? Why should I help you?"
I smiled sweetly.
"Dimitri! What's Nikolai's tab look like?"
M_m
About two hours later (and me being 500 caps poorer), we came to a compromise. Nikolai reluctantly agreed to help me on my mission because it meant he could kill more people (Nikolai enjoyed taking lives, which made me stop wondering why Three Dog considered him a psycho).
First, though, we had to decide our attack. It was difficult when Nikolai was so far gone that he could hardly string together sentences.
"Head-on attacks with group like Legion are us-useless... Should be quiet."
I blinked. "Huh?"
"Quiet... attacksh... and... fuck it."
...
"Just smack him as hard as you can," said Dimitri. "I've seen plenty of women do that to him, and it always sobers him up."
I didn't need to be told twice. I was interested in an alliance. For anything else... I did not like this man. I threw my hand across his face hard.
"OW!" he shouted. He glared angirly at me for a moment, and then it softened a little. "Wait... do it again."
Smack!
"OW! Alright... uhh... what're we talking about?"
Smack!
"Agh! Stop! Right... uhh... head on attacks are useless with groups like the Legion. Covert attacks... uhh... with... Sniper rifle! Yes, that's it."
Nikolai was still a little messed up, so as far as he was concerned, I never met the bartender here.
"The bartender's name is Dimitri Petrov. You ask him where to find Sergei Yoblonovich. He's my arms dealer and he's involved in import/export services. We are childhood friends. You tell him that you are friend of Nikolai's, and maybe he give you discount..."
Nikolai took a drink, and continued.
"...or he shoot you in the head. Probably discount, though. If I were you, I'd go ahead and pay full price."
I smiled.
"That's nice, Nikolai... I guess... but, I'd like to see if the Brotherhood can hook me up with a few weapons. What should I ask for?"
"Any sniper rifle with attachable suppressor, suppressor for your handgun, trench knife with anti-reflective coating, and see if they have a ghillie suit for you. If they don't have these things, ask Dimitri for Sergei."
I nodded, and I walked outside the bar, finally turning my walkie talkie on again.
"Milly to Citadel. I need to request a few weapons."
There was static for a few moments and then a voice came back.
"Who is this? You'll have to speak up."
"This is Milly of Vault 101. I need to request a few weapons."
"We have a burn notice on you."
I was silent and my heart skipped. I knew I was going to be in trouble for recent events, but... I didn't think Lyons would go so far as to burn me. I thought back to that Scribe and his walkie talkie. I bet he was at least somewhat responsible.
I had to try again.
"This is Milly of Vault 101. I need a few weapons: I need an AS50 sniper-"
"We've got a burn notice on you. No go."
A burn notice is how a spy is fired. A popular saying amongst spies regarding burns is that you can't take away a covert operative's training, but you can take away what that operative needs in order to function. The Brotherhood of Steel can't take back what I've learned since I left Vault 101, but it does have ways to cripple me.
I didn't need to go home to know it was likely raided by the Brotherhood already. Any weapons and ammo I left behind with the exception of very low quality weapons were likely gone. My Dragonskin armor was likely gone. I couldn't ask the Brotherhood for help anymore... the more I thought about it, the more it sucked.
They'd probably take all the caps they could find, too. I hide most of my money under my floorboards where I didn't think they'd look. I had to hope it was all still there, or else I wouldn't have any money to pay this "Sergei".
So, I went back to Comrade's to speak with Dimitri. He was getting ready to close up shop, and Nikolai was passed out on a few sacks of flour in the back room. It didn't seem like an uncommon occurance to Dimitri.
"You need to come back tomorrow. I'm closing," said Dimitri.
"I need you to help me meet a Sergei Yo... Yoba... Sergei Y."
"Sergei? What the hell did Nikolai tell you?"
"That they were childhood friends, and if I wanted a discount, to mention him."
Dimitri shook his head.
"No, if I can get ahold of Sergei, you mention me. My name. Maybe he give you discount if you mention Nikolai, but then again, maybe he shoot you in the head. Mention me, and he will definitely give you discount."
I nodded uncertainly.
"What did Nikolai do to Sergei?"
"I wasn't there for it, but apparently Nikolai got drunk and ruined his wedding."
"...so because of that, he'd want to kill me?"
"It happened three times."
I blinked. Dogmeat nudged my leg and I looked down at him. He stared at me as if to say "Really? You want this guy to help you?"
I sighed. "I need to go home and get money together. How much should I take?"
"How much do you have?"
I sighed again. "...Fine. Make the arrangements with this "Sergei". I'll get my money together and return tomorrow."
Dimitri nodded, and I turned away. In the back, I heard a bottle break, followed by Dimitri cursing Nikolai's name.
...why did I want his help again?
G_G
"I don't believe this," I said, staring at the mess that was once my house. My robo-butler, Wadsworth, was going mad trying to clean up the mess the Brotherhood left behind. They raided my armory and left only my bolt action rifle (I called it "Bolt"), and a Beretta Tomcat. I was not surprised to find my Dragonskin missing, either. They took all the money they could find, and they turned my house upside down to do so.
They didn't look under my floorboards, though. You could see under them without picking them up, and my money was placed in such a way that, by a trick of the light, you could never actually see it unless you knew which boards to pick up.
I had to pack all the caps that I could carry, but it still probably wouldn't be enough. I decided to dig out a camera and take a photo of the rest of my caps and give the key to the house to Sergei. It would be better than carrying all those caps at once. I wasn't going to leave again that night because I was exhausted (and I didn't eat before I left GNR), so I plopped my backpack down, and looked in my fridge.
At least they didn't take my food away, too. A burn is meant to cripple an operative, not kill.
I had a few pieces of Brahmin Steak that needed to be eaten soon, and I had a Nuka Cola and some purified water. My robo-butler kept cleaning up the place, but I was content to sit in this messy house and have a meal as long as Dogmeat was with me. I gave him the juciest piece of steak out of the two I had, and I cooked mine using a flaming blade called a "Shish-Kabob". I didn't use it for killing, because it was too vicious for my tastes, it required fuel to keep burning, and it was as likely to burn you when you swung it around as you were to burn your enemy. The Brotherhood knew my tastes, or else they would've taken it, too.
So, I used it to cook food sometimes. My robo-butler would always frown upon me when I did that, because it seemed dangerous, and it was, but sometimes I get so hungry that I don't care if I lose some hair. I'll either use the Shish-Kabob or eat it raw.
Dogmeat eyed me while I cooked the steak. He rarely started into his own food without me, but I knew he wasn't waiting for me to finish cooking. He was watching me because he wanted me to know something.
I sighed. "I know you don't like this, Dogmeat, but Three Dog vouched for him, and he's always been straight with me. I have to at least try."
He growled lowly, and I frowned. "I'd rather try this with some help. The Vertibird feels like my warning. If I try to do it again like that, I don't think we'll be so lucky."
He only growled louder at me. At first, he was irritated at the mention of my trying to do this with Nikolai, but now he was growing slightly angry with me. No, Dogmeat never gets outright fed up with me. We never fight physically; he never glares at me... but it does hurt when I manage to get him angry.
I knew what he was thinking, too. I said we were lucky, and I don't think he was very happy with his current condition. He was staring at me as if to say "Lucky? Look at me! You call this 'lucky'?"
I felt my eyes getting ready to water up, because I never liked seeing Dogmeat angry (I didn't like seeing Cord angry, either). I didn't like seeing those that I cared about upset, especially with me.
"I'm sorry, boy," I said. "I know what you're thinking... but I consider us lucky because... if you didn't survive that... I don't know what I would've done."
My last words choked me up, and Dogmeat stopped growling at me. He let out a breath through his nose and eyed me with sorrow. I could still pick up some irritation, but it was towards the thought of an alliance with Nikolai. It hurt me to think that it was bothering Dogmeat so much, but... it seemed like a necessary evil. This man was a psychotic drunk that called me the "Brotherhood Whore", but he was also ex-Spetsnaz. Spetsnaz were Russian Special Forces before the war, and once they rebuilt and formed a standing army again, Spetsnaz returned.
They were very effective, because up until the day of the Great War, the U.S allegedly considered Spetsnaz Operatives to be extremely dangerous, coming in second only to Chinese Soldiers. The feeling was mutual, because Russia supposedly considered U.S Special Forces to be extremely dangerous.
Not many people know these things (very few know what "Spetsnaz" means), but those of us raised in a Vault had to take extensive courses on World History leading up to the Great War.
I had to assume that Nikolai could be invaluable to me. I'd have to deal with his insults until Caesar was dealt with, and then I could never speak to him again.
By the time I finished my food, it was about midnight. I walked upstairs with Dogmeat, and I flipped my mattress back onto the bed (I think they could've at least cleaned up after themselves). I placed my guns on my desk and took off my armor and boots before laying down. Dogmeat jumped up onto the bed with me and got close.
His cold, metallic parts would take some getting used to if he was going to sleep on my bed. We got comfortable, though, and I felt him eyeing me. I smiled at him.
"We're going to get through this, Dogmeat."
He licked my forehead in response, and I fell asleep with my head tucked under his.
Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
Revolution! Revolution!
Though it's only been several days since the tin men made me shiny, I'm already growing irritated every time I wake up. My old eye wakes up normally; the shiny one stays dark for a few seconds, and words flash in it. On my first day, the tin men said something about it meaning the eye "warming up". I didn't know what they meant by that, because my eye doesn't feel warm.
My head still felt funny. I was told I would get used to the weight of my "brain case" (I think that's human talk for the glass bowl with the mushy thing in it), but until then, I had to make due. It felt a little heavier, because the glass bowl was full of water or some other liquid.
When I woke up, I decided to stretch my legs. The shiny ones were always numb, and no matter what I did, I couldn't really get feeling in them. Sometimes I could feel the shiny parts I had, but most of the time... nothing.
I was able to move faster and hurt bad people quicker now, though... and it makes me happy that Milly doesn't think less of me for what the tin men did.
I woke up before her, and when I did, she looked peaceful. Cord's death brought us both even closer... but we both want him back.
It still haunts me... the day of his death. I think back to it and I ask myself why I couldn't just say "Apology accepted" when Milly did a long time ago... I had to hold the grudge. Cord died not long after I managed to say it, and I'm not sure if he believed me or not.
I whined lowly thinking about him. Why couldn't I bring myself to move sooner? Had I bound forward earlier, he might still be here, and if he was here, we probably wouldn't be going to that stupid man that insults my Milly for help.
Simply being in his presence angers me, and so far, he's been nothing but trouble for us. We saw him, and now Milly suddenly needs to find all her "caps"? She comes home, and the house is practically upside down?
His name calling bothered me most of all, though. He had nerve to call my human names. If she says the word, I'll happily put my teeth to his neck. I was not looking forward to travelling with him, but I held a little bit of hope that it wouldn't be for long. Milly was intent on killing the man that ordered Cord's death, which meant walking really far. While we were at it, she also wanted to kill the leaders of the territories we were going to pass through. She said it would weaken the Legion, but given a year or so, the man she wanted to kill would replace those she defeated, and the affair would repeat itself. To kill all the leaders, we (that is, us and Rascalov) might have to split up.
I looked around the house while I waited for her to wake up. It was looking better than last night (the metal man was cleaning it since we arrived), but I had a feeling this would be the last time we'd be here for a while.
It was sort of sad, really. Leaving this place... leaving the bomb town... it'd be difficult for both of us.
The good news was, when she finally woke up, we were already packed up and ready to go. She decided to hop in the "bath" before we left, because it would be the last time for a while that she was able to relax in that evil device. I wondered if I still needed "bath time", now that I'm all shiny...
Milly didn't take long in the bath tub, and when she was done, she put on a change of clothes, and packed two other shirts, pants, changes of underwear, socks, and she even packed as much water as she could comfortably carry. As for her money, she had it in one bag, and she carried that with her hand. Her backpack looked difficult, and I could see the desire to actually do these things drain from her face slightly.
However, it returned once she remembered the other funny talking man. She sort of hoped that he'd take a lot of her money, because it would take some weight out of her backpack. "Caps" aren't so heavy on their own, but focused in a bag and as numerous as they were, the weight got serious.
We left, and I carried one of her bags. She belted it on my back. Since I'm shiny, it doesn't weigh as much as it would've if she did that when I wasn't shiny.
She turned on the device on her wrist and the nice man called "Three Dog" was on. As it often did, the broadcast focused on Milly.
"Children, do you remember a few days ago when 101's talking deathclaw got killed? Do you remember how the Legion was responsible? Milly woke up four days after her Vertibird crashed during an operation, and now she's... I can't belive I'm saying this... Miss 101 is leaving D.C. I don't know how long she'll be gone for, and I don't know if she's even out there listening, but I have to try and say this: 101, if you can hear me... you need to know that there are monsters out there. The Capital Wasteland is bad, but the further west you go, the worse this place gets. Be very careful, because you may run into venemous creatures that can turn invisible, a new breed of Super Mutants, a more concentrated force against you... I almost wish you'd consider just moving to Russia. I wish you the best of luck, Mil, and return to the Capital Wasteland sometime. Return home soon."
The broadcast brought Milly some tears, but they weren't of sadness. She was both touched by Three Dog's words, and determined not to falter.
The remainder of the trip was largely silent, but it really wasn't so long. One man was standing between us and Andale (about four miles off). There was a pack brahmin by his side. He held up a photo, and looked between it and Milly a few times. I prepared to lunge for his throat in case he decided to attack her.
"Are you Mindy?" he asked in a thick "Rushing accent", as Milly might call it.
She shook her head. "My name is Milly."
"Oh."
The man dropped the photo. He turned to his Brahmin and started fumbling with a few packs.
"Are you Sergei?" asked Milly as she approached.
"That's what they call me," he said.
"So you're the smuggler?" she asked. He shook his head.
"Since you are woman and I don't hit women off the bat, I warn you one time: don't ever call me a smuggler. I'm in import/export business, and that business sometimes includes people."
"Noted. Dimitri sent me. Dimitri Petrenko."
"Da, and you want...?"
Milly held out a list to "Sergei", and he took it and read it over. He whistled to himself.
"That's impressive Christmas list. I have suppressors and anti-reflective knife, but I don't have AS50. I have SRS available, or you can give me a day. I have a buddy that can get ahold of AS50, but it uses .50 caliber rounds, which are expensive and not a typical find, so I imagine you run out of ammo pretty quick. As for the SRS, the one I have fires .308 rounds. They're fairly easy to come by, so... I give you 100 rounds for it, and you can probably find more as needed."
Milly nodded. "That's good. SRS it is. What about the ghillie suit?"
Sergei let out a breath and shook his head slowly. "That's a tall order. I don't have ghillie suit with me right now, but I have a buddy that has one, and he owes me a favor. I get ghillie suit to you by the end of today. Dimitri said you'll be at Comrade's probably, so I get it to you then."
She nodded again. "How much are we talking?"
"Suppressors run you 250 each, SRS 3000, one hundred .308 rounds run you 300, anti-reflective trench knife costs 1500, and the ghillie suit will cost 5000. You can do the math."
"10,050 caps for this stuff?" she asked. I don't know how much we brought, but I didn't think it was that much. I know Milly had at least that much hidden away, but...
"For someone that is not friend of Dimitri, is 30,000 even."
She sighed. Looking at her, I could tell that she was in no mood to argue. She took the bag from me and tossed it to Sergei. It was heavy, but he caught it with one hand.
"There's probably not the amount you're asking for in there. I can't carry that much. However, I do have..."
She took her backpack off and started fumbling through it until she found the photo. She took it out, and took her house key out, as well. She handed Sergei the photo, and he looked it over for a few seconds.
"I'll give you the key to my house. Alley side wall, twenty feet in from the north. Pull up the floorboards by the wall, and you'll find the rest of my money. Take what you need. I won't be returning to D.C for a while."
Sergei took the key, but he grabbed her wrist as well.
"I rarely do this, but I like you, Molly, so I'll take your word for it. However, take my word: I'm giving you the chance to be my friend. If you try to rip me off, you'll see what it's like to be my enemy, and you do not want to be my enemy."
She frowned. "On my honor, that key will open my home, and if you look in the right place, the money will be there."
He released her wrist. I didn't have much of a problem with "Sergei". I'd prefer wandering around with him as opposed to Nickel-Eye. Sergei turned to his Brahmin and started with Milly's requisitions.
She put her "surpressers" into her backpack, and she put her new knife on her belt. It was sharper than what she was currently carrying, and the sunlight wasn't reflecting off of it. The handle had holes for her to put her fingers through, giving her better control over the blade itself. She handed Sergei the knife on her belt (a "Kris"), and the SRS went on her back. The ammunition went into her backpack. She stuck with her Steyr AUG (or "Cookie Monster", as she called it).
"I will meet you at Comrade's by tonight, so don't leave unless you want to make 5000 cap donation."
She nodded. "I'll see you there, thank you."
Sergei ignored her, and started walking off with his Brahmin. We looked at each other, Milly shrugged, and we headed for Andale.
0.0
She plopped herself down on the barstool next to Nickel-Eye. He was in the same spot as yesterday, drinking the same smelly stuff, and Dimitri was cleaning glasses behind the bar.
Nickel-Eye looked my human up and down a few times. He nodded and took a drink.
"Dimitri, check out the Brotherhood Whore. Sergei didn't kill her."
"That's because I didn't mention your name, Nikolai."
Nickel-Eye glanced at her. He sneered, and took another drink.
"Sergei says he'll have me a ghillie suit by tonight," she said. He nodded.
"That's terrific. Listen, do you even know the first thing about sniping?"
"I know that the object is to kill whoever is unfriendly and in your crosshairs without being seen."
"So, you not only hold your honor so cheaply that you whore yourself out to random cults, but you're also an amateur in the art of sharpshooting."
"I was hoping that having a mercenary around would be enough to fix that," she said. He paused midway through bringing his glass to his lips and stared at her.
"What did you just say?" he asked. She looked at him, confused, as did I.
"I said having a mercenary around that knows a thing or two about sniping should-"
He punched her. He punched my Milly in the face and sent her to the floor, and he was standing over her in a second.
My jaws latched onto his right arm instantaneously. He shouted and swore, and I held tight as he tried to get me off.
Realizing I wouldn't let go without taking his arm with me, he drew a handgun from his back and pointed it at Milly (with a hand to her cheek, tears in her eyes... not from sadness, but shock).
"You understand me?" he asked me. I growled while holding his arm.
"Let go, or I kill her."
"Nikolai, stop it!" shouted Dimitri. Nickel-Eye ignored him.
I eyed the gun warily, and when he cocked it, I released him, glaring. He turned his attention to Milly.
"I am many things, Whore. I am Russian, a branded terrorist, a murderer, a drunk, a soldier... but I do not fight for the deepest pocket. I am not a mercenary. I am NOT a war whore."
Milly nodded, grimacing. "Alright, I understand," she said. Nickel-Eye put his gun away and held a hand out to help her stand. She ignored it and got up on her own.
She smiled down at me. "Don't worry, boy. I'm alright."
I nearly went for Nickel-Eye's throat, but I was stopped by the bartender. He approached Nickel-Eye and hit him across the face with a length of pipe. The attack sent Nickel-Eye to the floor, and he lost a few teeth and started spitting blood out for a few minutes. He deserved a whole lot worse than that.
"Go out back, miss. We'll meet you out there to discuss some training while we wait for Sergei."
Milly practically dragged me out of the bar. My eyes remained locked on Nickel-Eye, still writhing on the ground from being hit.
Why did she want his help again?
End of Chapter
7,791 words. I got that done quick.
Don't like Nikolai? Get used to him. We're seeing a lot more of that dick head in this story. As for Sergei and Dimitri... not so much.
Milly received a burn notice, so she can't go to the Brotherhood of Steel for help, can't use most of her equipment, and is on the shit list when it comes to Brotherhood-sponsored merchants.
As for her Vertibird taking a dump last time, it was the end result of sabatoge. Take a wild guess who made that happen.
Caesar is arrogant. Where some might feed the enemy false intel, he's the type that may actually give the truth because he feels invincible. This story will cover whether or not he is shown the truth.
Next chapter covers Milly receiving the rest of her equipment, training in stealth and sniping (recall that Cord mentioned that Milly is better at direct approaches, not stealth), and the first of many attacks on Caesar's Legion.