March 23rd, 2288
…..
…
…
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23.3.2288_Achieved
Radiation_Level_Negligible
Troop_Health_100%
Activate_garrison?
{ }_no? {X}_yes!
Berkshire_complex_online
He was the first to be awoken as per the protocols written by him. His body, aching after having sat in the same pod for some two hundred and eleven years, suddenly regained function and ached to hell as he awoke with blurry eyes. He felt every injury he had ever had, from his days as a lieutenant at jump school all the way, to his last bout of indirect fire from a Chinese battery in the mountains of the Philippines. The next sensation was that of hissing air and massed steam as his pod's outer shell was broken and ice melted to allow the massive door to open him to the frozen hellscape of what he called the fridge quadrant. His legs worked first, his hands catching on the handholes as he lowered himself to the cold concrete floor. His mind was still a blur when he heard the unmistakable engine of a Mr. Gutsy making its way toward him from his right, passing hundreds of identical pods to get to him.
"Sir good morning Sir!"
Shaking his head off the nausea he gripped the bridge of his nose before speaking.
"Time and date."
"March 23rd, 2288 sir! 0500 hours sir!"
On schedule then, all on schedule. The Berkshire complex, made in three and a half years had been blown out of the Berkshire mountain range to accommodate most of the Federal Military units located within the greater Commonwealth area as a supposed training site. Unbeknownst to the very government which footed the bill, it had been created for the end of the world as they knew it. The end count on that last day before the bombs fell had been upwards of one hundred thousand soldiers and airmen, followed by their families who would be housed in larger nonsingular pods. All the armor, airpower, and strike force needed for a military campaign he envisioned would be taking place across the United States at the same time.
His vision was that of three arrows reaching out from across the United States, one northeast, one southeast, and one west, reaching ever closer until they met in the Midwest.
But that was for later and this was the now, Berkshire housed the weapons and resources he would use to recreate what was lost so long ago, but first, he had to awaken it all.
"Send alerts to all personnel, defrost, and have all Senior officers and NCOs meet in the eastern operations center by 1000 hours."
"Yes sir!"
Braxston stood to his full height, checking over his uniform before he made his way to the east.
1000 hours, Eastern Command Center Defrost +5H Braxston
The easter command center was one of three major command nodes located within the greater Berkshire complex. It was here that the majority of air command as well as airborne command would take place in the coming campaign. It was here he decided he would begin with his freshly awaken command teams and show them what they had found using bots, cameras, and a recently dispatched MQ-5 to monitor the surrounding area most immediate to the complex.
"All commanders reporting sir."
A fresh LT, still carrying some stubble from his own reawakening informed him as he stood at the center of the massive map table laid out in the center of the room. It was from here he could redirect them to multiple TV screens directly behind him. Each of these screens shows a different aspect of the greater Berkshire surveillance network with squads of roving bots making the bulk of it, as they covered the complex while one showed a direct feed from the orbiting MQ-5. So far the S6 and S2 (comms and intel) hadn't been able to sync up with the former US spy satellite network in orbit but in due time he guessed. Most likely that had already been taken over by the Enclave but he digressed.
"Good morning commanders, Colonels, Generals, and anyone else I did not recognize and welcome to the future we have all prepared for."
The map table quickly changed to reflect that of the greater Eastern United States before enhancing the Commonwealth area.
"What you are seeing now are the sensor impacts detected on the day the bombs fell and possible impacts throughout the region, as well overlaid is detected radiated areas."
Three impacts were noted in yellow across the map, one in southern Boston, its yield being of the tactical variety, a second hitting to the west, seemingly having gone off course and missing the downtown areas of Boston, and a third….
"Holy fuck what the hell did that!"
An officer exclaimed off to his right. Most of the far southern commonwealth was completely irradiated with fallout still deadly in most of the region. None had come this far out west and none had even come close to the Berkshire complex. So far so good, he thought as more and more information splashed both across the TVs and the map table. Most of it was still habitable, save for areas here and there where chemical spills or whatever else had killed the Earth. The S2 NCO had pulled the LT down to look at something on a terminal each was looking at, in a hushed voice Braxston caught "mutant".
"Switching to drone feed, operators picked up something." Exclaimed the LT to the crowd.
All screens switched to the gun camera on the MQ-5 which was currently in white hot as it panned over a small farmhouse leading off of the major highway some ten miles east. Up and down the highway they could all see destroyed and decayed vehicles of all makes in each direction as well as a small group of white objects. The camera suddenly zoomed-in little by little as it laser locked on the group of objects making their way to a farmhouse just off the highway. Two of the objects or persons, looked human enough but the other five?
"Switch to color."
"Roger, switch to color."
The operator on the other end of the radio the LT held switched to color vision and a major gasp went out across the room. Most too stunned at just what they were seeing one officer up to his left finally let out what all were thinking.
"What in the goddam hells is that!?"
Five hulking green brutes were busily pushing along two humans in rags toward the farmhouse. Each of them had to of been over seven, maybe eight feet tall, and were clad in all manner of what one could call armor scrapped from every source possible. One even had what looked like a stop sign as a shoulder pad, beaten into shape to fit the thing's shoulder. Each of the brutes carried weapons that varied extremely from one to another. Where one carried a baseball bat with nails, another carried an M60 machine gun with belts of ammunition draped over its shoulder. As the group approached the house, one more of the beasts excited and in its hand…
"A human fucking arm, it's chewing on the arm!"
Braxston had prepared for just about everything his mind could possibly fathom in the years he had spent preparing his armies for what was to come. Every scenario, from a red invasion, to civil war, to who fucking knows what but the last thing he had expected to find upon awaking was man-eating green-colored monsters not ten miles away. The five circled the pair now, pushing them to the dirt as the one with the bat prepared itself behind the two humans.
"Is their ordnance on the wings?"
The LT checked over the air package, detailing the specs of the bird in flight, and nodded.
"Four AGMS sir, two air bursts, two HEAT."
"Drop an airburst, I don't want to see what comes next."
Man-eating monsters. Those words played out in his mind as he noted the Laser lock, the beam-riding missile race off the rail and streak toward the ground below. In ten seconds the black object appeared on screen and detonated some five meters above the figures, the last image in the camera having been of red mist.
A plan, he would come up with a plan but he would need intel on this new world, a world he had not prepared for. He would make sure before any real movement out of Berkshire he would know everything, be prepared for anything, and kill everything which could pose a threat to these United States ever again.
"Get me strategic reconnaissance ops, and Captain Macmillan."
March 28th, 2288 1200L Diamond City Nora
Nora walked amongst the vendor stalls as her mind went from one place to the next, replaying the events of the past several months over and over again. She'd awoken to Nate's decayed corpse, cradling what was left of him before heading out to the rest of the Vault, only to find everything dead. Scavenging what she could, a single .45 caliber pistol and a plate carrier she had gone out into the waste and found a changed world.
First, she had gone to her house and found a decayed neighborhood and a somehow functioning Codsworth. From there she'd raided Nate's old foot locker for a rucksack, and the M14 he kept in a safe in the garage. Thank god Nate had taught her to shoot in college as already the world had tried to kill her in the form of bugs. Since then she had somehow refounded the minutemen from the revolutionary war, fought and killed dozens of "raiders", and of all things reconnected with what was once a US Army unit turned into a weird paramilitary force. And in all of it, she'd been looking for Shaun and her husband's killer, a man called Kellogg, like the cereal.
As of twenty minutes ago, he was dead, really dead. Given the fact she had shot him in the face with his own gun, she was pretty sure he would not be getting back up. He had been apart of something called the Institute, an organization that struck from the shadows and could never be found but it didn't matter. They had Shaun, and she was going to find her boy if it meant she had to move heaven and Earth. The only link to that organization was the metal and brain-infused piece she now held in a glass cylinder attached to her waist. Just fucking great she thought, back to step one in looking for these assholes.
Thankfully she had made some friends along the way who had helped her through all, and in doing so actually stayed sane in this shithole of a place she had once called home. It almost brought her to tears thinking of it all but thankfully her friends were always here.
There was Preston, the former head of the minutemen, who had named her General of all things, whose only goal in life was the protection of those who could not protect themselves. Codsworth her former butler turned confidant who did all he could to cheer her up when it got bleak. Danse, a self-righteous blowhard who thought he knew what a real army was, and yada yada, who in his downtime had a heart of gold. Piper, the diamond city reporter had broken her story to the public and shown them just what the Institute was. And the end of them all was Nick, oh Nick, a robot man she had almost shot on first meeting him he had scared her so much. People she could rely on now as they trudged across this shit-filled wasteland of a commonwealth and tried to put it back together, one piece at a time.
The birds were chirping around this time she noted as she came to the center of the stalls and more toward Atashis noodle market. Kids were playing ball in the square as tough-face Diamond City police in moth-worn Boston PD uniforms patrolled it all. It was almost like home, hundreds of years ago, plus all the dirtiness. She would never get over just how everything was so dirty now, and just unkempt but winners can't be choosers she guessed. That was her mind trying to replace the emotions she currently felt she knew, repressing them by thinking about something stupid like the dirt or the craziness of it all, the monsters, the people, the people monsters….
Danse was over by Arteros weapon stand going over some rustier M4s and an M249 SAW by the looks of it. His power armored frame taking up much of the stand she decided to stand a little off to his left as he debated the weapons with the owner.
"And I am telling you civilian, the SAW was made for the team-level element to act as a suppression weapon. This one you have here could not have belonged to some great General as it is of an older model and was most likely issued to the US Commonwealth National Guard as most Federal Forces left years before the bombs fell."
Nora peered over the assorted weapons and ammo as the two nerds went at it over the weapon. Looking at it herself she could tell Nate would have had something to say regarding its cleanliness, or tell her a story about how he had used one this one time in the Philippines or Japan, that is if he wanted to. Oh, Nate, her Nate, her brave Nate. She could still remember his eyes, the marks on his skin, the scars of his past, she could recall the day he left for his first deployment all baby faced only to come home what the troops called the "old breed". He was nineteen and they called him old, only for surviving. She saw some of that baby face in Danse sometimes when he would discover something new or odd or she would tell one of Nate's stories or a story of her own before the war. As she peered over at the taller man now red in the face her eyes caught something, something she could not recall ever seeing in the months she'd been awake and she couldn't tell what it was for a minute.
Danse had apparently noted her staring as he turned his bulk to face her, still red in the face he looked at her discreetly.
"Knight, what seems to be the issue?"
In the sky, long wispy lines of white trailing behind something fast-moving amount the clouds, a black dot against the blue skies.
"Does the Brotherhood have any high-flying aircraft your airship could have brought in?"
Considering they had parked that airship of theirs, the Prydwyn, at the former Boston International it made sense. Now it was his turn to raise a brow, she could tell he was going over every unit and piece of the equipment in the Brotherhood of Steel before he answered.
"None that I am aware of Knight, why do you ask?"
Nora looked over the arms table before her eyes rested on a pair of long-range binoculars marked as twenty caps. Going through her cap sack she threw them at the vendor before grabbing the binos and stepping around Danse to get a view. Following her train of thought, as she looked to the sky, Danse found the object of interest before having an audible gasp. There in the sky were a pair of contrails blasting across the horizon and their source, a high-flying aircraft that Nora was currently looking at. Peering through the scopes, she had to steady herself several times until her eyes rested on the tail before barely making out the markings she could see.
"155 R-C Squad, so 155th reconnaissance squadron that's Commonwealth federal troops, US Air force. But then what is it doing all the way out here and flying two hundred years after the war?"
Danse could not give her an answer as she handed him the binoculars and studied the aircraft himself.
"We have to alert the Prdwyn, as soon as we can of course I understand you're still dealing with the…"
He didn't finish the statement, taking care to not bring up the subject of her having just killed her husband's murderer.
"Of course Danse, tomorrow morning we head out while the rest get R and R here in the city."
March 24th, 2288 0500L Captain Macmillan ODA 9423
"Thirty seconds!"
"Ten seconds!"
The CH47Z Super Chinook was at ten thousand feet as it thundered over what had once been the great city of Boston. The light turned green and twelve men covered down in gear and oxygen just in case waddled off the back ramp and into the blackest of nights.
Hed always hated HALO (High altitude low opening) ever since he went to the freefall course in Arizona and choked up his first jump. But what command wanted command got so here he was having just landed in a grassy field near the river in the middle of Boston, packing his chute as the rest of his twelve-man team landed amongst the field. Chute away he went to his gun bag, uncapped the clips, and laid out the M110 inside, careful to make sure its thermal optic was still operating before he began seating mags into his plate carrier. His quad nods worked wonders out here, as usual he noted, having used the things for a decade now.
In the briefing, the S2 nerds had described the city as being a bombed-out shell of what it had once been, and at first, he hadn't believed them. Now having been amongst the leaning skyscrapers, and rotting corpses of what was once one of America's best cities, he could see their description was very apt.
"Check in."
He reported into his throat mic and listened as he finished preparing his ruck.
Eleven distinct clicks reported back to him, noting his team as being combat-ready and able to move out. It was the time of day in which most things, at least human things, would still be asleep so the plan was to move out to the OP (Observation Post) marked on all their PIP-boy maps and conduct the objectives given.
Objective one was an OP overlooking the former Boston Baseball field which had per the briefing once again, been turned into some kind of city within a city. Estimates on population put it in the lower five-to-ten thousand range with people coming and going at all times of day. Following two days of recon, objective two was the Boston International Airport where Recon overflight had picked up a blimp of all things unloading what looked to be a Battalion formation onto the airport and setting up a FOB (Forward Operating base). Vertibirds in the supply and light flight configuration could be seen coming and going as platoons of light and heavy infantry were deployed across the commonwealth and greater Boston area. For now, though, his ODA was to move to the OP and conduct the first reconnaissance.
"Alright, staggered column until we reach the roofs, from there advance to OP one. ROE is fire if fired upon or if something is going to kill you, don't get yourselves killed."
Clicks were his response.
One hour later.
"So we need to head directly Northeast, cutting through old town if possible and around the more major super mutant strongholds."
"Last word was Bravo Company are clearing the strongholds here, here, and here by Verti assault teams. If need be we can link up with them when we reach radio range and signal a pickup from there."
"Sounds like a plan, any nays?"
Her five-man (one robot) team said nothing as they finally press-checked weapons and slung on bags. Danse had the SAW he had someway or another gotten Arturo to sell for cheap yesterday, Nick with the marksman M14, Piper an M1014 shotgun with dragons breathe, and Preston an M4. She had called him an idiot the first day they met for carrying what amounted to a bolt action weapon, he had quickly changed to something more "modern."
"Alright, follow me in a file and we'll get there in Pip-boy says seven hours by foot. Let's go."
The group moved out of the green gate that counted as the end all be all entrance of Diamond City and past the local enforcers who took the time to say what was on their mind.
"Ay your taking Piper? Good luck with that one babe!"
"Tin man, don't get shot in the ass again!"
"Nick, come back alive ya here!"
Quickly moving beyond the walls and outer perimeter of the city within a city, the group advanced up the main streets of the former Boston. Nick and Nora held point while the rest fanned out behind them keeping their distance in case of ambush in this early morning. Raiders would be drugged out on chems from last night's bender, Mutants would be snoring until about eight, and the only real problem would be ghouls or the possible Synth patrol.
Sometimes she was still amazed as she passed a store she would use to shop at or a coffee shop she used to take Nate to. Just how much had changed and years of wear and tear to see in the end, it was the same as everything else, shit. By hour two of their movement she could tell the city was starting to wake as in the distance gunshots and the occasional scream could be heard. This being "normal" now, shivers went down her spine at the thought of just what was going on. Danse was ahead now on point, his big frame a more than large enough target for anything coming their way.
His fist went up to a halt before he went to one knee. He pointed Nora forward as the rest of the group took cover behind abandoned vehicles. Creeping up alongside him, he pointed out a hundred meters ahead behind a bend in the road to the left, ten people had begun moving in their direction.
"Binos"
Pulling the object held by a string to her neck she scoped in on the group approaching and noted another fifteen or so had crossed the same bend and were heading in their direction. All wore leather clothing ubiquitous of raiders, with pieces of metal or old military flak armor here and there alongside a ramshackle of weapons wielded by them all.
"Raiders, twenty-five or so. Must be falling back from the north heading away from Bravo Company."
"If we prepare an ambush with mines, this will be an easy job over in minutes. Place claymores here, here, and here, quickly while the rest prepare positions in the surrounding buildings. Battle drills indicate the ambush must take place with the start of the mines ending with the full commitment of the unit."
"Alright, everyone heard that?"
Receiving affirmatives from Nick, Cods, Preston, and Piper, each person on the team began moving to selected positions while she placed some box-shaped claymore mines under vehicles. Thanking her Brotherhood training from Danse, she expertly camouflaged each device before moving into an alleyway off to the left of the street, directly diagonal with the mines. They were closing quickly, she could hear them now.
"Hey did you see that cunt squeal! Can't believe you just wasted her like that for getting a little bitey, why'd you have to kill her man!"
"Because my fucking dick is now bleeding and probably infected why the fuck do you think! chems getting to your mind Tony?"
"Ah fuck you, your just mad Karonn won't let you hit that northern ass!"
"Fuck you!"
The first ten had passed the claymores, the further fifteen now being in the kill box. She hit the clacker and sent the electrical pulse causing detonation.
Two streets away, Rooftops. Macmillan
A massive explosion went off to the south, sending a fireball of black smoke into the sky before a quick ripple of machine gunfire ripped into the early morning hours. Each member of the team scanned their zone of fire as Macmillan pulled up the Pip-boy and switched to the live drone feed from an orbiting MQ-5. It seems a firefight was taking place between militia types and a group of five or six, one being in a suit of T-60 power amour. Interesting, he thought as he zoomed in on the black armored soldier laying waste with a SAW. Very interesting, collecting some human intelligence could always help….
"Team, move south along the rooftops, get position overlooking that fight, two prepare the Carl just in case."
"Rog."
The ODA broke into a jog across the Boston rooftops, mindful to watch spacing and possible threats they quickly circled the housing area and moved onto the rooftops of department stores directly over the fight. Each member was mindful not to look over the edge until the order was given, lest they give away their position. Falling in on a long line overlooking the street below, Macmillan gave a peek over, noted twenty hostiles remaining, and gave the order.
"Weapons free."
Eleven weapons ranging from Mk18s to a single suppressed M60 suddenly appeared above the militia and rained hell. In five seconds it was over as targets were claimed as down and dealt with. Macmillan himself gave a huff at just how easy that was before noting the ambushers were still holding their position. Here goes being presentable.
"Hello down there, I would like to speak to whoever's in charge. Im willing to come down alone if that is possible."
The people below waited a moment he noted, seeing a Mr. Handy moving amongst the dead below and scrounging weapons and ammo he guessed. The power-armored one who he thought to be the leader was held up in a coffee shop across the street so if he was going somewhere he guessed…
"Meet in the alleyway to your right, send one man and one man only."
A female? Odd, but not something he hadn't seen in southeast Asia with women leading guerilla groups. Learn as much as he could, record as much as he could and RTB, finish the mission.
"Alright, coming down."
Nora.
She had been laying into the raider's flank with her M14, chewing through what armor they had and absolutely shredding them to pieces. The mines had killed off a good chunk of them all but there were still plenty left as they fought tooth and nail. Danse with his SAW ran it back and forth suppressing them as Nick picked away with his own M14 from afar, meanwhile, Piper closed the distance and took them up close with dragons breath rounds setting raiders on fire. Everything had been going great until another pack of twenty or so appeared and fire superiority went into the enemy's hands. Piper had begun falling back, Danse keeping their heads down while Nora threw armor-piercing rounds into her weapon. She had been just about to take down some fat fuck lugging a SAW of his own when suddenly and without warning, every raider in the street simply ceased to exist.
It wasn't until after the fact that she noted how the shots had been suppressed, indicating somebody out there was using weapons meant for quiet. Her first thought had been Brotherhood but they hadn't made this way south yet. Then Gunners but word had it they hadn't come this far north yet. Last but not least was the railroad but she didn't give much credit to them considering how small their numbers were so who could it be?
"Hello down there, I would like to speak to whoever's in charge. Im willing to come down alone if that is possible."
That was not a Commonwealth accent, not at all, and the voice sounded so nonwastelandy if that made sense. And suppressed weapons, who had the caps or time to make that? These thoughts all ran through her head as she noted Danse peeking out of the coffee shop across the street and both Nick, Preston, and Piper hiding behind downed cars. Codsworth meanwhile had thought this was a great time to scavenge bodies. Whoever this was they had her and her team at a disadvantage and they needed an edge, one of them down here, alone, and possibly their leader could do that.
"Meet in the alleyway to your right, send one man and one man only."
She tried to use her most authoritative voice possible, kind of like the one she would have used on a shitty prosecutor or judge back in the day.
"Alright, coming down."
That was quick she thought as she hid behind a garbage can container. Hearing footsteps on the ladder behind her she looked up to see someone wearing, was that an OCP uniform? Plate carrier with a long jacket covering most of it, high cut helmet with comms, quad nods, and what the hell? That rifle looks brand fucking new! Who the hell had the caps for that? Whoever this fuck was he looked exaclty like some of the Special forces guys Nate had taken pictures of with in the Philippines even down the drop leg holstered pistol and military-type Pip-boy. He reached the ground and turned to look at her, slight beard, blue eyes, tan bandana under the helmet, maybe middle age and super athletic build, somewhere in her mind she felt as if she had seen this man before but that was impossible. He reached the ground with a thump before looking over toward her, his weapon was slack on its sling, nonthreatening, but she knew it could come up in a second.
Macmillan.
Grungy-looking female, battered M14, plate carrier with plenty of mags, Boonie cap. So this was the leader of this oddball team then. Not the weirdest for sure but still, odd. And something about her looked familiar but he couldn't quite grasp it, that's for another day he guessed.
"Good Morning, I am Macmillan identify yourself."
She seemed shocked at his uniform and weapon as of course it stood out but then again, he wasn't exactly going into public with this on.
"Nora Baylor, Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel. What outfit are you with Macmillan?"
Good thing he was recording or no one would believe he ran into a Knight of all things. Might as well hit them with something she wouldn't understand so they can get passed the pleasantries.
"Operational Detachment Alpha, 9th Special Forces Group."
She rolled her eyes as if not believing him before giving of the look of bullshit.
"United States Army eh? When did you guys come back from the dead?"
Something was off, him thinking this was an average survivor turned Knight and now she somehow recognized both the unit and designation.
"My husband served with you types in the Philippines, that's how I know if you're thinking how."
The Philippines? That was two hundred and eleven years ago, how the fuck…..
Two or her people began moving down the street toward the alleyway, and here he uses "people" lightly. One is a regular early twenties female and the other is a tin man with glowing eyes. His weapon almost snaps up and he sees the original female note.
"Not used to Synths, not unusual but a reaction like that sure is. Mind telling me what you're doing here and how it is a US Army ODA is now in downtown Boston after how long?"
Somehow she had knowledge, and on top of that, there were now robot men by the looks of it who could just barely pass for human save for the eyes.
"Why does he look so new?"
The female in the red with REPORTER embolized across her hat asked.
Nora.
The eyes, it was always in the eyes when it came to people like her husband. And the man before her she could tell already was worst than he had been in the demons he held behind his eyes, ten times worse even in how the pupils turned almost shark-like at seeing them all. Calling him out for being Army, the ODA, the final straw being the Philippines she saw those eyes narrow to pincers and she wasn't sure she could draw on him if she wanted to. This man was a killer and a very good one at that, and she might have just killed herself and her team.
"Why does he look so new?"
PIPER.
Something buzzed in his com set, his hand going to his ear as something was said. Pulling up his Pip-boy he began working the nobs and control before scrunching his face up.
"They're here too? What the fuck?"
?
"Who?"
He looked up from the pip boy, mindful of the three people now standing before him before motioning her over.
"You know what these things are? Seem to be all over the place?"
What she saw on his screen gave her shock. Shocked not at just what was being relayed but at how somewhere up in the sky, an aircraft was using a camera to watch their current position, and going by the numbers on the left, it was at fifteen thousand feet. On the screen were super mutants and a massive lot of them. A hundred a least with a Behemoth at their front the camera quickly panned out to show the horde being one kilometer away and closing fast, maybe five minutes and they would be passing right through here.
"Shit, a whole horde of super mutants with a behemoth, Nick go get Danse, Preston, and Codsy!"
Shit. Shit. Shit, this was Bravo company's fault for clearing out that stronghold to the north, now retreating hordes were making their way south for survival and right in the path of her trek to the airport. If it hadn't been for Mr. Special Forces they would have run right into it. Danse's thundering form appeared behind her, a deep scowl on his face as he noted the soldier before coming to take a look at the Pip-boy screen.
"That's a whole horde, we'll need to retreat and find a better position immediately, we will not be able to stop that with the equipment currently in place unless…"
He said eyeing the soldier again.
"Do you have anything that can take down a Behemoth?"
Macmillan gave a shrug, his mouth moving to the left as he gave another shrug.
"I might."
10 Mins later, a rooftop overlooking the main street North. Nora.
There were twelve in total, each armed and armored the same as the Macmillan guy. An entire ODA if she remembered Nate's ramblings about them correctly. Each of them covered a sector amongst the four rooftops now occupied by the two combined teams with Macmillan and two others watching the road to the direct north. Here she watched as one member of the team pulled out some type of tubed launcher while the other loaded the weapon from the rear. Danse sitting beside her was in awe of the technology being used before him and she knew he was mentally taking notes for his return back to the airship.
To her right, another member of the team was setting up a rather sizeable collapsible antenna he had pulled from his pack, twisting and turning wires into place before he began keying his own radio.
"Bravo six alpha, say again Bravo six alpha this is Alabama six Romeo how copy over."
"Alabama hear you lima charlie send traffic over."
A younger voice keyed back from the long-range radio. A working radio, with someone on the other end, Nora was beginning to connect dots rather quickly for someone as Danse began gripping his SAW tightly.
"Macmillan."
He said. Macmillan turned, hobbling over to the pair situated in the center of the second rooftop and coming to a knee.
"What's up, Mr. Paladin?"
She detected sarcasm there, Danse did not.
"Are you at all familiar with the Enclave?"
Danse had spoken lightly about the group called the Enclave, he has said they were what was left of the US government but bastardized. She hadn't known what to believe save for the fact they used orbital weapons of all things on D.C.
"Yeah they tried killing my boss couple of years before the bombs dropped, what about it?"
That gave Danse pause.
"Tried killing your boss?"
"Years before the bombs dropped?"
She said in an accusatory tone.
"Yeah long story, well talk after we've dealt with the horde of green shit."
As Macmillan moved off, the radioman began relaying his request to the amazement of Danse once more.
"Bravo six alpha, we request Close air at grid square Romeo Sierra 87-87, break, going to need GBUs and possibly cluster over."
"Confirm Alabama, scrambling birds now standby, ETA fifteen over."
"Rog will keep informed Alabama out."
Nora began scooting toward Macmillan as he eyed the incoming Behemoth now clearly visible on the horizon. She could damn near hear it at this point as it lugged itself down the main road toward them.
"Range eight hundred meters, can you make the shot?"
"Of course, I can make the shot Cap, alright got it? Backblast clear!"
"Back blast clear!"
Nora crouched to the left of Macmillan and the loader, the shooter was on the right, and from here she could feel the shockwave as the round left the chamber. Pulling her own binos she watched the rounds flightpath from the roof to the behemoth and with a great thud, the impact. The rocket had struck the creature's head and upon detonation, made half the body cease to exist. A mini nuke round then, was a good choice as splash damage lept over the mutants closest to the beast and allowed for some confusion.
"Behemoth down, wait till the first line gets to about four hundred to engage."
So he was giving the orders now she scoffed. Moving over to Nick and Preston she noted the two were in a hushed conversation as she approached, each being mindful to not let their new allies hear.
"If they're the Army and I mean the actual Army, they could really do some good here Nick. They just took down a behemoth in one shot from eight hundred meters, think what else they could do?"
"These ones might be great guys or murderers, Preston, Don't let their flashy gear and accuracy fool you. It's the one pulling the strings that could have them turn on us in an instant if they wanted to. Remember this is the wasteland, they might be the Army of old, but as you can see they know nothing of this here wasteland."
Preston huffed as he scanned down his optical sight toward the incoming horde again, in doing so peeking over at one of the ODA guys ten feet away with a much more excellent weapon. She could feel the jealousy already as he looked back to his own scratched and worn M4.
The horde was loud now, with deep voices screaming to the sky in bloodlust as great roars went up over the death of their behemoth. The first rank now entered a sprint as a hundred of the creatures dashed over cars and fallen buildings, making for the building where the rocket came from.
"Alright, range four hundred weapons free!"
Twelve weapons were fired in sync, followed by the five members of her team who carried long rifles. Suppressed rifles and the single machine gun in the team cut a swath across the front rank as already two dozen of the creatures fell dead. More rushed past the dead, spurred on by the death of their comrades their sprint only gained in speed, three fifty, three hundred. The machine gun was letting off a full burst now as grenade launchers under-mounted on some of the ODAs rifles began thumping toward the incoming horde. The launcher operator had begun loading another shell into the green tube, careful in handling this white-colored round as he pulled it out of its sleeve and inserted it. Still firing she noted him lining up the shot in the middle of the incoming crowd before he yelled out.
"BACKBLAST CLEAR!"
"BACKBLAST CLEAR!"
With a whump, the weapon fired and within two seconds the reason for his carefulness was evident. Unlike the previous round, this one exploded in a shower of white smoke and yellow sparks as it splashed across the horde's closest portions.
"Willy Pete."
Nate had spoken of weapons that used the more scientifically named white phosphorus, a weapon first designed to create smoke on the battlefield turned tank killer and jungle reducer. Now it was melting super mutants on a Boston street, it took only seconds for the screaming to begin. She had heard super mutants catch fire before, having watched Danse use a flame thrower on a nest during one of the Brotherhood's raids, but never like this, never fucking like this. Weapons were tossed away haphazardly, as great green shapes covered in steaming smoke and yellow dots streamed out of the smoke and into the early morning light.
Mutants were ripping their own skin off, bashing themselves against the closest object possible or simply putting their own personnel weapons in their mouths. Danse had at that moment moved up alongside her, Preston, and Nick. Piper followed to the left of him as they each overlooked the burning mass of flesh and metal ceasing to exist before them and the screams, oh the screams….
"Hey echo, MQs got another pack right behind this one in vehicles, how close are the birds!"
"Three minutes tell the MQ to designate!"
Danse himself was taken aback under his helmet she could tell, the way his body kinda sagged. She knew he hated mutants with every inch of his being but seeing a hundred burn to death, kill themselves, or bash their own brain in was something she was sure riled even him. Macmillan had moved over to the radio operator, busily typing away at his PIP boy as he conversed with the person on the other side of the radio.
"Confirm, estimate two hundred plus moving in eighteen wheelers in our direction from the north. MQ is lasing for GBU strike break….. Requesting possible QRF as we have multiple groups moving in our direction over."
Nora left the overlook and took up position behind Macmillan, her eyes looking over the pad she could see just what he had been talking about. Bravo Company must have been doing some work as this was only the vanguard of the horde, more like a scouting party. The Supermutants from northern Boston looked to be in full retreat everywhere she looked, the camera panning across most of northern boston. Massed formations of super mutants were using scavenged vehicles to retreat faster south, great belching smoke heading up towards the Boston skyline and clearly marking the incoming hostiles. The trucks had been modified with massive rams on the front, knocking anything in their path out of the way. Thousands, it must have been thousands of the things moving toward them now with the stopping of this party having only bloodied the nose of this retreating army.
"Alabama six you are to hold position and await further air cover, We've got QRF spooling up the field but it'll be some time before the Rangers are in the air how copy over?"
"Rog, what have you got on the way?"
"A whole squadron of A-150s are inbound loaded down with enough GBUs to level the city as well, the General has decided to let the AC-130 Zulus have a chance. Another fifteen to twenty and well get rid of this mess over."
"Confirm, holding position over."
To her that sounded like a lot of air power but to Macmillan, it seemed like a Tuesday. A thought parked itself in her head as to a good idea on how to get out of here if the need arose as it seemed the army was a little overextended currently.
"Can your transmitter reach the airport? Boston airport that is?"
The radio operator and Macmillan shared a glance before nodding.
"If need be we can get Brotherhood air control on the comms, im sure they have a spare vertibird which could get us out of here if things get too dicey."
Macmillan gave a nod.
"Seems like the QRF was not expecting just what we found. Recon overflights are picking up a mass exodus of mutants from the entire northern section of the city to the south. Several militias-."
"Raiders."
"Raider enclaves are being steamrolled between here and there, slowing the horde down just barely."
He looked over to Danse who was watching the conversation
"The MQ has picked up three of your companies fighting to the north pushing them down now."
So Maxson had deployed two additional companies, shit it must have been a fight.
"Get with the echo hear and give him your station. Well, see what we can do from there."
At his last word, two cross-shaped aircraft blasted overhead heading north along the road they'd all previously been firing at. Nora watched the green-colored craft release two objects a piece before banking up and away from the scene.
"Cover your ears!"
A massive thump and a shockwave were suddenly blasted in their direction as munitions turned the streets to even more rubble.
X6-88 and attached synth platoon.
"X6-88, Your orders are to capture one of the unknowns who parachuted into the northern fields last tonight, target list is updated to your HUD."
"Confirm control."
X6 cracked his neck, the fake vertebrae giving off a crack that felt good to his processors as he scanned over the cityscape from the apartment building he currently inhabited. He had taken the synth platoon given to him for a previous mission and redirected it here to overlook the battle currently taking place half a mile away. Through a spotting scope, he could make out the figures, twelve he was looking for as well as five wastelanders with a Mr. Handy in tow. If need be he could have his synth platoon line up shots and take them all down at once but at this range, he could not trust the Gen Twos to be accurate.
This unknown which had been detected for days now by Insitute radar arrays scattered through the commonwealth had sent shockwaves across the institute. Questions were beginning to be asked at every level as more and more information was collected, analyzed, and distributed across the directory. US Air Force reconnaissance craft conducting overflights, unnamed and armed drones operating at high altitudes, and then to top it off not days later, a team of twelve had parachuted into the city from a high-flying aircraft. And to top it all off on cue, two of what he identified as A-150 attack aircraft had just conducted a low-level bombing mission on a super-mutant column retreating from the north. The two craft were now circling the city and coming in for another run minutes later as he heard what sounded like the ripping of fabric take place but what he knew were nose-mounted cannons. From here he could see the line of cannon rounds stitch across a fleeing column of scavenged eighteen wheels, cooking off the engines in the process and sending great mushroom clouds into the sky on a nearby highway section.
If he was to do this it would have to be quick and clean, a surgical strike which would see most of this team die and allow him to run away with one in chains. But how was the question as he spied what he guessed to be the leader talking into a radio array his team had set up on the roof. How?
Ten minutes Later. Macmillan.
"Bravo six we have mutants closing in from all directions on our pos. Where is that QRF over!"
"Alabama six, QRF is twenty out, say again twenty out!"
"Bravo six we are amber nearing black on ammo break, we will be securing local transport to the airport confirm!"
"Alabama confirm, ACs are on station now and are engaging, use the cover of those cannons and get the hell out of there!"
Macmillan quickly reprogrammed the radio and handed the mic to Danse. Danse who at this point had been shot twice with fifty caliber rifles by super mutant heavy gunners and was flooding his system with stimpacks.
"This is Paladin Danse to any station this net, Paladin Danse to any station this net respond over."
It took a second for the Brotherhood Air station to respond but when they did it was someone of authority.
"This is Lancer Captain Kells to Paladin Danse, what is the situation over?"
"Lancer Captain, I am requesting a vertibird pickup for a two squad-sized element north of Diamond City. We are pinned down and surrounded by super mutants retreating from the north and need evac now!"
"Paladin, would this have anything to do with the dozen or so unidentified aircraft conducting a bombing run over the downtown district?"
"Yes, their ground control team is here and needs evac or we won't be getting out of this."
A pause, no bout kells speaking to Maxson.
"Confirm, I am already spooling up two birds ETA is five mics can you hold over?"
"We will try, Danse out."
Leaving the comm set the Paladn moved off to peer over the rooftop once more and began laying fire into the hordes currently attempting to grapple up the building below. On cue, Macmillan spotted both AC-130s entering the Boston AO with the massive nuclear-powered engines blasting overhead before both began circling in deliberate patterns.
"Here comes the rain!"
Everywhere he looked Super mutants clawed over one another to reach the shopping district's rooftops. Gantrys and stairways leading up the closest were now covered in the blood and bodies of those who had gotten too close. Converted vehicles used by the mutants stood belching flames and more and more of the horde sprinted past the burning wrecks. His team was out of Gustav fuel, the last shell having been expended on yet another behemoth. Most weapons were nearing dry as well, thinking suppressed would have been the better option he hadn't expected a full-on firefight. The Wastelander "Nora"s team was already black and down to sidearms, even the powered armored Danse using an M9 covered in scratches. Flashbacks to China ripped into his mind at the situation, pinned down and surrounded but they left at the first cannon report.
A massive boom from the sky, followed by two different streams of red began to crisscross the incoming mutant formations. Entire streets of green meat simply ceased to exist as a twenty-millimeter minigun mixed with a forty-millimeter air-bursting cannon ripped into the undefended mass of flesh.
It paid to have air defense and in this day and age, there seemed to be none.
"Paladin Danse, Paladin Danse!"
The radio squealed, Danse rushing over for the hand mic.
"Mark position with red smoke, say again red smoke! And tell those birds to buzz off the airship confirm over!"
Danse eyed Macmillan through his helmet.
"All assets roll away from the airship, say again, roll away from the airship."
Danse gave a nod.
"Confirm marking with Red smoke! Squads are prepped on the roof but tell the birds they'll be shooting their way out!"
Danse quickly prepped a red smoke before chucking it onto an adjoining rooftop, mindful to keep the smoke out of the defender's eyes.
"Roger, redirecting to channel 23, callsign Ember!"
Another A-150 screamed overhead as it passed over a column of mutants less than a mile away, a white canister leaping off its wings and flying toward the ground before creating a massive whoosh of fire.
"Fucking napalm feels like I'm in Vietnam again huh boys!"
That got a few laughs from the ODA as from the north through the smoke, he spotted two smaller Vertirbirds thundering in low and fast. Danse was guiding them in now, calling them to come in from the south, mindful of the fire coming in from the circling gunships. From here, he could see small pings as rounds stuck the vertibirds, the pilots doing well to scrape by past the fire of so many on the ground. Each held a single-door gunner manning what looked to be old M2 fifty cals, the barrels glowing a cheery red he could spot from here as both went in for a quick pass of the pickup sight. Shell casing impacted the roof as they passed overhead, the thunk of the M2 laying waste to the enemy.
"Ember come in from the south! Mutants are light coming in from the south!"
"Rog Paladin, this will be quick pickup so be ready to fucking go!"
Nora's team began falling back from the rooftop toward the radio, even Mr. Handy taking up a position alongside Danse. The ODA followed suit, chucking whatever frags, White phosphorous, or electromagnetic grenades they had over the side to cause as much confusion as possible for the attackers.
The Vertirbirds came in fast, descending as quickly as possible as the door gunners continued to throw out streams of lead. Macmillan noted the black paint jobs on each, wit the Brotherhood's coat of arms if he could call it that. The crew wore regular US Military flight suits with ballistic vests, all the equipment probably seized from an armory somewhere. No matter, he was putting his faith in post-apocalyptic maintenance on this one.
"Alright load up, let's get the fuck outta here!"
He was to be the last on. Making sure to count each of his team as they loaded into whatever seats were possible in the birds. Noras was on first, followed by his team mostly falling in on the second craft. He was about to turn and jump in himself when a feint shimmer on the rooftop gave him pause and a flashback of pure fear.
May 15th, 2071 TF 323, Southern Thailand
"Contact rear!"
"Millers down, Millers fucking down!"
"Graysons hit, knifed in the back where the hell did that come from!"
His team had just inserted into a forested ravine, ready to move out west and conduct bridge-blowing operations to stunt a PLA armored advance. An MH47 had crept them into the countryside, mindful of PLAAF radar the entire time as they crisscrossed the treetops before finally making the LZ. In broad daylight, it wasn't ideal but it was the best US South East Asia command could give them as recent breakthroughs by the PLA had expended any time they had. Theater commander Lieutenant General Gare had ordered his team to do one thing and one thing only, stop the PLA armored columns any way they could. So in the hour, he had to devise a plan he had decided on blowing the bridges, poisoning a couple of waterways, and leaving nuclear-tipped landmines in advance of the incoming army.
His team had just rappelled into the ravine, him being the first on the ground as he scanned his surrounding and awaited the rest. The air was insanely humid, making his ocps stick to his skin as he already began to sweat. Miller being the last one off the bird had just hit the ground behind him with a thump. Macmillan turned as the rappel lines cut from the aircraft and struck the ground. The Chinook was beginning to pull away, the rotor wash obscuring his vision slightly as he turned to see Miller bleeding profusely from the neck with already dead eyes.
"What the fuck?"
His eyes catch it all. A red object is suddenly alit off to his right and slams into the rearmost engine of the Chinook, sending the aircraft tumbling forward and way into one side of the ravine. But Miller is still down, already dead from blood loss, and as Macmillan's eyes finally see, he realizes they're fucked. They were fucked the moment the aircraft stopped here. Standing over Miller is an outline, a very feint outline of a human, and Macmillan is already turning to face it. Weapon barrel coming around he's already screaming into his comms to his team, who still hadn't noticed just how fucked they were. He could see more now in what felt like slow motion, dozens of them amongst his men as he screamed and screamed for what felt like an eternity but was only two seconds.
"MILLERS DOWN!"
He fired a quick burst into the feint outline. Blood and bone burst away, chunks of meat ripped off a human frame as the technology allowing him to be invisible fails. His team is responding now but it's already too late for some of them. Weapons fire barks out everywhere as Macmillan eyes the patch on the now dead Chinese soldier as he plops into the mid. He recognizes the unit patches immediately on the Chinese stealth suit.
"CONTACT REAR!"
Chinese Special Forces, infiltration unit 17th Brigade southern command. This he gleams from the patch sewn onto the suit of the man who had just killed Staff Sergeant Miller. Half his team is already dead and his weapon barks again.
Present.
The feint shimmer, this time on a far leger outline is rushing right at him from less than five feet away. He has no time to think, his weapon is on fire and the barrel is already up. He empties his magazine into the shimmer, twenty armor-piercing rounds smash themselves into what turns out to be a massive purple super mutant wielding a hammer, a hammer which had been arching for his head not a second ago. The mutant falls backward in a spray of blood, half its upper body missing as he is physically pulled into the vertibird from behind by a black-gloved hand.
An aircrew helmet's features enter his vision as the lift of the very birds pushes upward and away. The door gunner has pulled him into the craft at the last second as he collects himself, his legs still dangling over the side as he watches the aviator get back to work on the fifty. It was beyond luck they had pulled off when they did as when the vertibird circles the rooftop he can spot two dozen shimmers suddenly breaking the monotony of the urban concrete.
"Holy shit, fucking nightkin! Eat lead fuckers!"
Yells the crew chief as he puts a fat burst of fifty into the rooftop, splashing several of the shimmers. Hundred of super mutants surround the department district now, drawn to the gunbattle and explosions. A sea of green flesh all now envelopes the area, Macmillan is about to make a comment as to how easy it would be to bomb them all when his thoughts strike true. The vertirbid is maybe three hundred feet in the air and climbing, still circling the former defensive position when two A-150s flash past to the point of almost touching the Vertirbids belly. Like a sea of fire, the world is suddenly alight as black flames turn the world below to ash.
X6-88
The situation had gone from bad to very much worse. Being in the upper stories of a former skyscraper, X6, and his synth platoon had strayed away from the hate-filled eyes of the super mutant horde. He had watched almost gleefully as the Unkowns and their wastelander kin had almost been overrun nearly three times as super mutants physically scaled the building in order to get to their prey. He had to give them credit these newcomers, they could fight and fight hard and he was almost certain they would have died up there if it hadn't been for the timely arrival of much-needed air support. The introduction of so many though was extremely discerning and would be treated as an Alpha-level threat by his superiors, to be dealt with and destroyed if need be.
Five minutes ago he had requested the institute go into its deep storage and find something which per the records, had been locked away and forgotten about some time after the Great War. The introduction of two Brotherhood Vertibrds now taking his prey away had not gone unnoticed and he would rectify that situation in the only way he knew how violence. With a flash two more Synth troopers appeared and between them, they each carried a long green case, very long. X6 had them lay the cases down while he peered over the faded script etched onto each lid.
FIM-92P STINGER
U.S. Commonwealth National Guard Property.
"These will work."
He said aloud.