Mutatis Mutandis 20

Jason peered through the scope of the Perforator, using Fort Bannister's floodlights to examine the lines of muties. There had to be close to two hundred of the abominations, shambling through the night. Beyond them, Fort Bannister was bustling with activity. Silhouettes of Talon mercenaries were running back and forth like tiny ants. Jackrum had obviously put his newfound authority to good use. The first time Jason had seen the Fort, the only thing holding out the Wasteland was a rickety chain-link fence. Now there were sandbags and metal plating, bristling with sniper towers and gun emplacements. Bannister was a proper Fort, now. And the Talon company appearing at least to be a far more formidable presence in the wasteland.

Even getting as close as they had to the fort was a challenge. The Talon Company was a formidable threat, and clearly the mutants thought so as well. The mutant party had formed an enormous blockade around the compound, their intentions obviously being to starve the Talon Company into submission. Jason smirked; clearly his actions at Rivet City had forced Brutus into far more cautious tactical strategies.

Or wasn't something else? A truce of some kind? Unlike the siege of Rivet City, no shots were being exchanged. Both sides were silent, stuck in a stalemate. Perhaps Jackrum had found some way to force the mutants to stay their hand. Or was it a defensive ring? Were they allies? It was a blockade, and clearly the mutants were clearly ready to fend off attacks from both sides of their encampment. The Talon Company had worked with Brutus before. Was Jackrum dead? Were the two factions allied again? A thousand questions began to spring up and it dawned on Jason that, whether the mutant general was in the vast ranks before him or not, he did not have enough information to proceed. He grimaced in frustration as Narg planted himself a yard away, making no real effort to conceal any movements. Jason was on his stomach, keeping a low profile, breathing lightly and staying as still as possible, constantly scanning the wasteland on all sides. Narg, on the other hand, had simply strode along the edge of the ridge and plunked himself down, his heavy armour whirring and jingling and making all manner of irritating, unnecessary noise.

"Sooo…. how's it lookin'?" the Tribal asked.

"I need to get in that fort. Find out what's going on. Why aren't they shooting at eachother?"

Narg shrugged carelessly. "Outta bullets? Sticks? Rocks?" he sniggered. "There ain't much else around here, that's for sure."

"Stop insulting my home."

"Why? Trust me, kid. You ain't seen nothing."

"I've seen quite a few things, thankyou."

"Sure you have." Narg reached down and patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

Jason scowled, but decided that arguing was pointless; he had enough problems to deal with. "Do you have a plan?"

"Kill a bunch of'em." Narg grunted happily. He slipped a fresh ammunition belt into his minigun and pulled back the bolt, readying the weapon. "My day ain't complete without watchin' a mutie's head explode." He grinned back at Jason, who raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look." The Tribal ordered irritably. "Don't tell me you've never spouted a one-liner?"

"I shot a behemoth with a jetfighter." Jason murmured, staring through his scope. "I don't need one-liners."

"Ohh, big man." Narg grunted sarcastically. "Ever blown up an oil platform?"

"Nope. Just a Landcrawler. Mountain base…and an alien spaceship."

"No shit, huh?" Narg whistled, making the younger Wanderer groan in fear. Jason scanned the front lines to make sure none of the muties had not heard the high-pitched noise. After he was sure of their safety, he confronted the tribal. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"What're you so worked up about, kid? Either one of us could take that horde and win."

"Really?" Jason hissed skeptically. "All several hundred of'em?"

Narg squinted at the mutant lines, sizing them up. "Three hours and a minigun. You?"

Jason maintain his outraged silence.

"C'mon kid." Narg promptly gently. "Don't tell me you hadn't thought about it…"

Jason sighed and glanced at the encampment. "Six and a switchblade, If it's dark out." he admitted grudgingly. "Four, and my Chinese Assault Rifle if it's not. Assuming I have the ammunition."

"Exactly my point. We can take'em!"

"And my point is that we shouldn't start fighting until we know what's going on. We're here to interrogate a mutant general, remember? Can you honestly guarantee he wouldn't get killed in the firefight? Especially if the Talon Company gets involved? Jackrum, if he's still in charge, might see us and order his troops to back me up. Or he could just assume the muties are attacking him. I dunno, but I don't trust their trigger fingers. Too many variables. We need to get the general away from the camp before we wipe them out."

Narg gave him a shrewd examination, his expression showing a sense of new-found and hard-earned respect. "Alright, kid. What's the plan?"

Turner finished writing on his clipboard. He handed the long lines of calculations to Jackrum, who flinched away and handed it back. He rubbed his eyes and groaned, his voice echoing in the cramped space of the Fort's briefing room. The constant cold concrete walls were beginning to grate on his nerves. He missed traveling through the wasteland. And how much it allowed him to avoid paperwork.

"I don't suppose you could cut to the chase, kid?" he requested.

"Three weeks, Commander." Turner explained. "We need more water. Perhaps we could use our stealthboys to fetch some. I'm pretty sure the raiders had stockpiled barrels of Aqua Pura in Evergreen mills."

Jackrum sniggered. "So… what? Our boys just sneak through the muties, grab the barrels and sneak back? You don't think the supermutants would comment on the random barrels floating past their firepits?"

"You got any better suggestions?" Turner challenged. "They have us pinned, Sarge. We could try fighting our way out. But then Brutus would bring the rest of his horde down on us. You saw their numbers. We can't take that. Not without help."

A quiet voice spoke from the doorway. "Looks like I came just in time, then."

The four other mercenaries gathered around the table all twisted in their seats to see the speaker. Jackrum just grinned as the subtle shimmer floated further into the room and shut the door.

"Boys, if you got weapons, put'em on the table." Jackrum ordered. His mercenaries obeyed. Each merc's expression ranged from curious, , to terrified, to relieved depending on whether or not he or she knew exactly what was going on. Jackrum himself was in the latter category. He'd been waiting for the Wanderer to show up ever since the invasion began. Now it finally seemed like the war was beginning to turn in humanity's favor.

"Hey, kid." He said.

A moment later, the Wanderer de-cloaked and pulled off that unsettling hood. He was missing his bandana, but everything else was intact, including his silenced assault rifle and brown duster. A few of the mercenaries yelped and leapt backwards in surprise and fear. One of them reached for his weapon, and found the Wanderer's rifle leveled at him. He leaned back slowly and raised his arms, taking a few steps away from the table.

"Easy, Fletcher." Jackrum spoke softly, raising his hands in a conciliatory manner.

The Wanderer lowered his rifle and walked to the table, grabbing an empty chair on the way and dragging it over. He took a seat beside a few of the Mercenaries, all of whom shifted away a few inches. He ignored them completely, instead focusing on Jackrum. He said, "We have a serious problem."

"No shit." Jackrum fished out a cigarette.

"Not just the muties outside your doorstep, Sarge."

"How'd you get past them?" a merc asked carefully as Jackrum set about lighting his cigarette.

"I didn't stop to ask them stupid questions." The Wanderer replied. He turned back to the Veteran. "Brutus has a new FEV formula. Apparently it can create muties capable of breeding."

"Oh yeah?" Jackrum took a thoughtful drag. "Kinky." A few of his subordinates chuckled.

"It means they wouldn't need to take prisoners anymore." 'Fletcher' explained further, clearly frustrated by the Merc's lack of reaction. "Brutus' mutants take females alive whenever possible. He did in Project Purity, at least. He's created a harem or breeding pen of some kind."

The other mercenaries murmured in disgust. Turner just grimaced.

"So go deal with it." Jackrum suggested. "I've got my own problems. Come back and help when you're done."

"Well that's just it. I don't know where it is, and the only lead I have is somewhere in the mutant army outside this fort. I don't know which one it is, but I need to get him somewhere quiet and separated so that I can interrogate him. Think you can help?"

"Probably. But I need a reason to put my boys and the civilians here at risk, kid."

The entire room froze, staring in terror at the Wanderer. None of them could imagine calling him 'Kid' and living to tell of it.

Fletcher just smiled. "Of course, Sarge. You don't think I'd let you down, do you? I have a friend, waiting outside. He's like me, except he wears Power Armour and uses a minigun."

"That doesn't sound like you at all, Kid. You're a stealthy bastard."

"I meant he's just as good as I am at killing things."

Jackrum's brow creased as he remembered his strange rescue mission to Vault 106, only months ago. If the mysterious stranger and his power-armoured soldier were working with the Wanderer, it could only mean good things for the war-torn wasteland and bad things for Brutus.

"He'll help us fight off the Supermutants, and destroy their blockade, but we need to capture their leader first."

"You got a plan, kid?"

"Can you get him into the fort?"

"Possibly." Jackrum said.

"How?"

"Umm… excuse me." Turner said, in a small voice. Every eye around the able focused on him, and he shrank back a little. The last time he'd spoken with the Wanderer, the man in question had been holding a knife to his throat.

"Speak." Howlett ordered.

"We could offer them the civilians." Turner suggested. Observing the Wanderer's reaction, he immediately clarified his statement. "I mean, not really. But we tell them we want to trade for food and water, and he's going to have to come in and inspect the captives… then we kill his guard and capture him while the rest of the Talon company fights off the horde and your friend attacks from the outside."

"You don't think he'd expect something like that?" Jason asked.

"Well… he's a supermutant, right?" Turner grinned nervously. "I mean… they aren't that smart."

"You still believe that, after all of this?" Jackrum asked incredulously.

"Even if he doesn't come inside, it'll still identify him." Jason responded. "He'll have his negotiators reporting back to him after they deal with you."

Silence fell across the table. At least until Jackrum grinned. "Well if you and your friend can handle getting him into the fort… then that sounds like our best shot, right there."

The Wanderer stared at Turner a little longer before nodding. "I agree. See it done, and I'll pass the word to my friend outside." He rose to leave, and then turned back. "Actually, the rest of you, get out. I want to talk to Jackrum one on one. Collect your weapons and go. Except you." He pointed at Turner. "You stay too."

The rest of the committee –Jackrum could barely bring himself to call it that- filed out, leaving the Wanderer alone with the two mercenaries.

"Where's your bandana, Kid?" The Veteran asked.

"With Sarah Lyons in Vault 101."

"Ah." Jackrum's frown deepened. It had never really occurred to him that the Wanderer might have any romantic attachments. The young man had always seemed far too dedicated to his father's goals. It couldn't' have been good news for Fletcher- or Howlett. Whatever- to hear about the fall of the Citadel. "Is she alright, kid?"

"I think so." The Wanderer murmured distantly. He reached into his pocket and produced a piece of paper, along with a circuit board. He pushed both across the table with a fair amount of care, and took his seat again. "The circuit board is for Vault 101. I'm assuming you have some technically competent people working here."

"We do." Jackrum picked up the small green silicone board and examined it closely.

"They plug that back into the vault entrance controls, and open the door. When you need to. All of Megaton is in there, as well as what's left of the Brotherhood of Steel."

"How many?" Turner inquired eagerly.

"Two dozen Brotherhood soldiers. Close to sixty megaton residents." The Wanderer answered. "As of now, the Talon Company, Rivet City, and Vault 101 are the last human settlements left in the wastes. If my friend and I don't complete our objectives, you're going to have to open the vault, link up with Rivet City, and then fight or die."

"Or flee." Jackrum added, squinting at the circuitboard. "Have you heard from Tenpenny tower?"

"No. But they are far too exposed, and they have neither your firepower or Burke's reputation for protection. Jackrum, sooner or later the muties are going to get too powerful for anyone to hold off. We need to move now. After I deal with Brutus' harem, I'm going to D.C. to even the odds. I'll take out the behemoths. That'll at least give us a fighting chance."

"All the behemoths? All at once?"

The Wanderer nodded. "My friend has a way. I have to trust him."

"Do you?"

"Past destroying Brutus?" the Wanderer shook his head. "No."

Jackrum frowned, unfolding the piece of paper. A series of coordinates had been written in a very careful, very legible script. Turner leaned in and snatched it away from him. the young mercenary rose, nose still buried in the paper, and made his way over to the nearby filing cabinet, where he dug out the master copy of Talon Company's wasteland map. He spread it out against the wall and compared the coordinates.

"These are… radio towers?" the kid squinted at the paper. "Why did you give us radio tower coordinates?"

"Because I have weapons stockpiles underneath them." The Wanderer answered. "Assault rifles. Sniper rifles. Hunting rifles. Heavy weapons. Ammunition. Enclave armour… use it all."

"Thanks, kid. And have you seen any enclave activity?" Jackrum asked.

"Don't care." The Wanderer answered shortly.

"Well if you do see'em-"

"Then they die."

Jackrum's eyes narrowed. "You're going to hold on to that anger? Even while your world is burning, kid?"

"I'd rather use the flames to cook radroach meat."

"You're being stupid, kid. They have some hardware that could really help us. We should make contact and-"

The Wanderer rose angrily to his feet, keeping a tight grip on his assault rifle. "Shut. Up. Right now."

They glared at one another.

"Tomorrow morning, Brutus' general is to be in this compound." The Wanderer ordered. "Is that in any way confusing to you?"

Jackrum let out a long stream of smoke, and scowled at the Wanderer. "Crystal clear, kid. Just make sure you and your 'friend' do the rest. I can't kill you, but if any of my boys get hurt cos' of your bullshit blind anger, I'll make your immortal ass fucking miserable. Is that in any way confusing to you?"

For a fraction of a second, the Wanderer's finger was on the rifle's trigger. Then he relaxed slightly. "Crystal clear, Sarge."