The office suite was near silent in Goodneighbor's historic statehouse, save for the soft pitter patter of fall rain on the window panes, and the sound of a Silver Shroud re-run playing somewhere in the back ground downstairs as Fahrenheight and Hancock sat across from each other, both pairs of deep onyx cobalt blue eyes trained on the worn chess set between them while the ever vigilant statehouse guard busied themselves by playing darts and taking shots in the rec room below...
keeping her face level, Fahrenheight made her play, almond eyes darting up to check her mentor's face as she moved her black queen to 85, putting him in check- At the moment, they were only a handful of moves into the match- yet somehow she had already managed to gain the upper hand, causing her to grow suspicious. He appeared as usual; relaxed. Alert- Engaged...But something wasn't right- His strategy was off...
Carelessly, without seeming to take the time to even think it through, he moved his bishop to D2, blocking her queen and promptly removing himself from check. Making a face, the adolescent redhead made the only move she could see, attacking his pawn on B2 to put distance between her queen and his rook- And as the pawns on his side of the board continued to dwindle, she smirked- Again, the cunning Ghoul took almost no time to think his next move through, maneuvering his knight to c3, almost inviting her to take his pawn on b2- But why?
Beginning to suspect her father was throwing the game, Fahrenheight took the bate, discarding yet another of his pawns, studying his face carefully as she did so- and he watched it go with nary a flinch, before surprising her by moving his rook to b1, forcing her to move her queen over to A3, out of his reach once more. Finally cracking a smile, his eyes sparkled as he reached to place his knight on B5, threatening both her queen and rook and sending her on the defensive in a single move- if she hadn't been so eager, perhaps she would have seen it coming, he surmised objectively for future lessons.
Lacking another move, Fahrenheight is once again forced to save her queen, advancing on his rook at A2, allowing him to close in on her with his bishop at A1. Suddenly, Fahrenheight realized too late she had walked right into a trap; Defeated She retreats to b2, but knows its a hollow move. He had her.
Placing his bishop on C3, Hancock blocks Fahrenheights queen into her corner, forcing her to make another hollow move before taking her queen with his rook, and somehow putting her in check mate with his own queen- and with no moves left to make, just like that the match was over despite her seemingly early success.
"It was a strong start-" He encouraged paternally. " Bold to use your queen right outta the gate like that." After all; the queen was the most versatile piece on the board- but it was traditionally meant to protect the king. If only she had opened differently, maybe her gambit would have paid off...
"I thought you were throwing the game, but you were really just drawing me in...Clever." She admitted in turn, still studying the board between them- It was a clever trick he had pulled, luring her into a false sense of security when he had already planned moves ahead.
She had gotten complacent.
"Sometimes you have to sacrifice a few pawns, if you wanna win the game."
Brows furrowing, Fahrenheight looked up to meet her fathers gaze questioningly- Had that been what the match was all about? Teaching her a lesson? Just then, the sound of heavy, rapid footsteps on the winding staircase distracted her, drawing their attention to the adjacent double doorway, where Roscoe appeared looking quite serious.
"Sorry to interrupt boss, but you might wanna turn on your Radio." The tall, strapping man informed the pair dutifully, not even waiting for an answer before he crossed to the left side of the room, where an antique box radio sat on an entable between the rooms two tall, far spaced windows. Turning it on, he stepped aside, lighting up a smoke casually while he stood in the soft blue sunbeams filtering through the dirty glass as the voice of Kent Connollie interrupted the Silver Shroud broadcast on channel 135...
"Friend of the show, Jerry is here!" He announced enthusiastically, introducing his guest to the audience with obvious excitement, pleased to have anyone else on his show.
"This thing on? Hello...Hello?" There was a loud thumping noise as the gruff sounding man- Jerry- tapped the microphone obnoxiously. Hancock knew Jerry from around town- He was popular with the drifters, but not so much the locals. Kent musthave been desperate, to invite him to the show; that, Or the lowlife's bosses needed free advertising for their shitty drug operation.
"Its on-" Kent informed his guest easily, before a rapid knocking at the door could be heard in the background, interrupting their session before it could even begin. "Hey, We're recording in here!..Awe man!" There was sudden static as Kent stepped away from the equipment to answer the door, his angry muttering fading in the distance before leaving the broadcast curiously quiet. Intrigued, Hancock and Fahrenheight shared similar, questioning looks, both waiting patiently until the muffled sound of movement signaled the eccentric radio jockey's return.
"That's great!" Kent exclaimed almost disbelievingly as he returned to his microphone, sounding breathless. "The silver Shroud's dispatched justice already- Miss Selmy has been avenged!" He cheered.
Hancock sat up straight in his seat then, gut dropping as he turned around to look at the innocent little radio behind him, fixing it with a shocked look as the breaking news sank in, and his drug addled mind began to race.
"Holy shit, the shroud offed Wayne?" Jerry asked incredulously, echoing the mayors own thoughts out loud. "Wait, so this guys actually for real?"
"Oho, you better believe it!" Came Kents smug, satisfied reply. "...So Jerry , go on- tell the listeners what we were talkin' about." And there was something in the old Ghouls tone that made the lucrative politicians intuition spark.
" Oh Right... So, AJ- You know, the chem dealer over by Bobbies? He's doing damn good for himself...Says hes got a whole new market- kids. Even with his garbage chems hes just rakin in the caps..."
"Fuck." Hancock swore as Jerry spilled the beans on AJ's scheme, earning a look of concern from his daughter and right hand man- Like Delancey, AJ was one of Sinjin's men. Up until now, he had been coughing up a third of his profits to deal in Goodneighbor, but if the Shroud was really going around whacking Charlestown's finest, It wouldnt be long until the big bad wolf was on their doorstep, ready to huff and puff and blow the house down...
"Hear that? Sounds like the Silver Shroud has another bad guy to deal with!" Kent proclaimed then, causing the mayor to groan internally as he despaired over the domino affect he could already see coming- On the other end, Jerry didnt seem to follow.
"Uhh...Why?" He inquired dumbly, looking confused. "This shroud guy- hes gonna muscle in on the chem trade now?"
"No- he's gonna do somethin about it." Came the quick, sure retort. "AJ's sellin to kids, and this chem stuff k-kills people..."
"...And? I dont get it." There was an audible slap as Kent palmed his forehead in exasperation.
"We cant let AJ kill kids!" He stated incredulously, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world- And anywhere but in Goodneighbor, it might have been... Beside him, Jerry scoffed into the microphone apathetically, not sharing his hosts morality concerning business ethics.
"...Whatever." He dismissed indifferently- And with that , the show cut to static once more, leaving the concerned trio in silence as they ruminated on the implications of Kent's broadcast, and all possible ramifications that could come from the days unexpected- though not entirely unwelcome- events...Sinjin and his gang of unscrupulous roughian's had been growing at an alarming rate recently, as unallied raiders poured into Boston after the Minutemen took up residence in Concord. He would have to deal with them sooner or later, so, maybe it was for the better that someone was taking things into their own hands; At the very least, there would be less of them to deal with when Sinjin finally decided to make his big play to take control of Charlestown.
"Well- what do we do now?" Fahrenheight asked after a minute of strategic reflection. "This Shroud guy is apparently the real deal after all, and once Kendra finds out her boy toy is dead, she's gonna be out for some serious revenge." After all, it was no secret that they were the commonwealths deadliest duo- the closest thing the state had to professional hitmen.
"Roscoe, go grab De'Soto- I need you boy's on damage control." The mayor ordered quickly, a plan beginning to take shape in his mind. " Check out the scene, and ask the guys around town if they've seen or heard anything- we need to find out who did this, and get to them before someone else does...In the mean time, make sure to spread the word that this was a freelance hit- if this blows back on us, things could get messy."
"Done."
Wasting no time, Roscoe put out his nearly spent cigarette in the dirty ashtray centered on the coffee table beside the already forgotten chess board, giving Fahrenheight a subtle, yet flirtatious wink as he sauntered toward the doorway to do her fathers bidding- The young woman blushed, looking away from him uncomfortably in the presence of her father, whom she had gone to great lengths to keep their relationship a secret from, since she had no idea what his reaction would be.
She would have to reprimand him later...
. . .
Audrey stood in front of the mirror of the small bathroom space in their shared suite, meticulously washing the blood from her face and hair as MacCready divvied up the contents of Delancey's bag in the main room- The adrenaline from her close encounter with the ruthless assassin had worn off all too soon, leaving her feeling nervous and jittery. Now that everything was said and done, she was beginning to have doubts about her execution- Though, in MacCready's opinion, the hit couldn't have gone any better if they had planned it. With the size of the load Delancey had been carrying, that was all the young merc needed to convince him that her righteous crusade might be worth the trouble after all.
"Audrey just relax and come check out the loot!" He called to her impatiently over the sound of the old faucet. "This guy had a little bit of everything- Caps. NCR bills, prewar cash- bullets and chems...We could be set for weeks!" Abruptly, the sound of the water running stopped, and the young woman appeared before him looking sour.
"We shouldnt have talked to those watchmen- People around here know you. What if they saw us leave? If they tell Hancock, he could kick us out!" Audrey stressed, unable to think of anything else at the moment. MacCready rolled his eyes, scoffing at her worries.
"Nobody saw us- and even if they did, no one will talk." He assured her confidently, shaking his head. " See no evil, speak no evil, remember? The watchmen are more for protecting against raider and mutant attacks than policing personal disputes- What we did happened in private, and as far as everybody's concerned, that jerk had it coming...Also, personally- I cant wait to leave Goodneighbour. I dare Hancock to kick me out."
"Oh Yeah, and where would we go? We have to stay within range of the broadcast if we want to keep the caps rolling in, and Diamond city isnt too fond of mercenaries."
"Well, Bunker Hill for starters- but between you and me i can sleep anywhere." He answered quickly, giving her a lazy grin to punctuate his joke. Unimpressed, Audrey scoffed, reaching down to retrieve a little bottle of calmex laying innocently in the small pile of mentats, psycho, and jet he had swept to the side- as well as one of the dented packs of cigarettes they had scored. To her distaste, They werent Mentholated, but beggars couldnt be choosers...
"Whatever- I'm taking a nap. Keep an ear out for anything from Kent..." She ordered briskly, before turning around to climb into her bed wedged into the corner against the wall.
"Aye aye, Captain."
. . .
. . .
"Whatdya got for me?"
"Not alot- the boys on neighborhood watch duty said they heard some shots fired behind Marowski's. Said some lune in a black trench coat and fedora getup was asking around about Delancey's whereabouts right before it happened..." As she spoke, Fahrenheight reached into the shallow pockets on her tight fitted leather jacket, retrieving what little evidence they had managed to collect in the blood soaked alley behind the Hotel, before handing it over dutifully. "All they managed to get from the scene was a calling card of some sort- Like the ones we found on the Pickman vic's...Oh, and a bullet- 44 caliber. From what it did to Delancey's head id say our perp was close- Real close."
unfazed, Hancock studied the little Silver Shroud trading card closely. It was well made, and in good condition- The kind of condition that would probably fetch a good price from a private collector, Kent Connollie being the first that came to mind...And than there was the bullet- large, bloody, and compacted by the force of its impact with Wayne Delancey's thick skull...
"Hm..." The resourceful Ghoul hummed throatily, remembering a certain deceased mercenary who once possessed a gun of that caliber. " Now who do we know thats new to town, has a thing for righteous justice, and also happens to be in possession of a dead merc's Magnum Revolver?" Proudly, he watched realization light up her freckled features as she quickly made the same connections, inevitably arriving at the same conclusion that he had.
"The vault dweller?" She guessed, the sentence sounding more like a question than a statement.
"Bingo- Word has it, she's been hanging out at Irma's Memory Den lately..." He revealed conspiratorially, as if she didnt already know from her reports from Roscoe and De'Soto.
"Isnt she supposed to be off searching for the institute?" She inquired bitterly, not bothering to hide her blatant dislike for the roughly 235 year old vault dweller- She had met other Pre war survivors in her comparatively short life, like Kent, but with the exception of Daisey from the local shop, she had always found them to be tediously idealistic and exhaustingly sentimental...
"Yeah, from what I saw, the woman was hell bent on getting her kid back, and sticking it to everyone involved with her husbands murder- She must have hit a dead end in finding the Institute, then hit it off with ol' Kent and took up costume crusading..."
Fahrenheight pondered his explanation for a long minute, not seeing the point- The Commonwealth was full of slavers, drug dealers, raiders, and worse. Did the naive woman really think killing a few low-lives would make a difference in the end?
"But to what end? Goodneighbor has been the den of iniquity since before it was even founded. What does she hope to achieve by going vigilante and pissing off our rivals- apart from bringing them down on us in the process?"
"Careful, your cracking at the very foundation of our whole campaign here." He reminded her sternly. "Vigilante justice is what made this settlement into the free domain it is today- Hell, Its how we took this place to begin with, and why we established the neighborhood watch to keep the peace."
Unimpressed with his sentiment, The tall adolescent redhead rolled her eyes- But Hancock knew it was her sense of privilege that caused her to be so callous. They had been on top for so long, she didnt know what it was to be oppressed by tyrants like Vic, and Sinjin...Fervently, he hoped she never would.
"Okay, so what now than? Do we just let her keep knocking off Sinjin's men in our territory, until he finally retaliates?" She stressed angrily, thinking of the risk they would be taking. " You said it yourself- We dont have the men!"
Unable to dispute her argument, the mayor of Goodneighbor stood up, beginning to pace around the cluttered office suite, brows furrowed deeply as he sifted internally through his options.
"Your're right- we dont have enough men to win a battle...but maybe it only takes two, to win a war."
. . .
. . .
disclaimer: i dont play chess, and i really struggled through writing that portion. Apologies, and thank you for reading.