A/N: Greetings all and I hope I find you well on this journey of insanity. I was going to post this chapter tomorrow morning, but because I hate myself, I'm going on another road trip and won't be able to upload at my normal time. Anyways, we're back here with some fighting. But there's a twist! I won't give that away, though. Thought I'd make up for having author's notes that are too long with a short one today, so as always, make sure to leave your feedback and enjoy!

Chapter 13: What I do Best

Moving without my companion in tow was… relieving. This was the first time since landing in the hellhole that was the Commonwealth I haven't been tethered to someone. First it was the group in Sanctuary, then Nate, Valentine, now Nate again. Being able to move quickly and discreetly without having to worry about how far I was leaving whoever I had to protect behind, or how loud and conspicuous they were was a weight off my shoulders.

It did feel a bit strange though; I caught myself slowing to check for Nate several times, but the only thing I found was the gloom of an unlit urban landscape. Or what was left of one anyways.

Even with those minor delays, it took less than 10 minutes to cover the last kilometer or so to Goodneighbor.

And now I was free to do things my way.

My chest swelled with an eagerness I hadn't felt… probably since my first deployment with Fourier's squad. Even if this was just a quick clear out of some small criminal cell, it was more that I had the opportunity at all.

The settlement had floodlighting similar to Diamond City, if not as powerful. Their problem was the lack of a natural perimeter. The relatively clear parking lot around the stadium meant it was practically impossible to get near the walls of the settlement without being spotted. Here though, there was nothing like that. Goodneighbor was surrounded on all sides by more collapsing buildings. The only thing differentiating the buildings inside the settlement from those outside was the wall.

Yet the guards knew what they were doing when they deployed their floodlights. It looked like an even split between spotlights illuminating the immediate surroundings, and those pointed at the towers neighboring their perimeter wall. Scouting the town, I didn't find any gaps in their coverage. That meant I wouldn't be getting over the wall without drawing attention to myself. A good gunfight wouldn't go amiss here, but the more warning Kleo got, the more likely she would pop smoke and run. Or if she really is confident in her ability to come out on top, dig in deeper.

I settled behind a window on the tenth floor of a building near the settlement's front gate. My mind raced while I looked through the skeleton of a tower in front of me at the powerful floodlights. Huh… that second one sounded good.

I have no guarantee she wouldn't run.

Okay, so if I can't get over the wall, and walking through the front gate is probably a great way to get shot again, how do I get in without raising too many alarms? If there are any tunnels underneath, they're going to be guarded as well (even if I had the time to find one); a gunfight might be the only way through. These guys are going to be well organized, but they aren't equipped to fight me. It wouldn't take long to make a hole, and once I did, getting to the Assaultron wouldn't be far behind.

And kill innocent people to do it?

They're harboring someone who tried to kill Nate and I.

Knowingly?

They know what she does.

And that may be a necessity; if she supplies them with quality weapons and ammo, they might not have a choice.

So what happens when I remove her? I remove their supply line, they'll be in the same position. The only difference is whether I'm the one to pull the trigger or not.

They can always find a different source.

Uh-huh. Quickly enough and to the same effect?

I squelched the internal argument and turned my attention back to the settlement's perimeter.

If I didn't want to turn this into a bloodbath, yet, how was I supposed to-

These people aren't equipped to fight me. My gaze snapped to what was left of the tower's upper floors.

No lights.

It makes sense: why would they spend clearly limited resources to monitor an area no intruder would use? An incredibly simple strategy formed as I drew on my mind's map of the town from earlier in the day. The small cluster of relatively intact towers that made up the center of town were actually positioned toward its rear. Were any buildings close enough to make this work? My mind replayed the last half hour of scouting, several possibilities presenting themselves. If I was going to make that jump, it needed to be a sure thing; falling 80 meters was survivable, but it would hardly be pleasant, to say nothing of doing this covertly.

I slipped away from the bank of windows and made my way back to the ground floor. The five minutes it took to circle to the rear of the town was spent trying to measure distances and crafting the back end of this… plan.

That word may be a bit generous, but if I could get across to one of the towers, traversing to the marketplace would be easy. After that it was just a matter of either making my way down the building's interior, or scaling the exterior. That down climb wouldn't be fun if they were looking.

Or… if this plan was already going this brand of crazy, maybe a down climb wasn't the answer.

The structures behind the town were just as dilapidated as everything else, but several were intact enough for this to work. If I'm going to take this approach, I couldn't risk being spotted entering one of the buildings hugging Goodneighbor's rear perimeter. I scrambled up a pile of rubble laying against one of the towers, carefully placing my armored boots to prevent toppling the loose concrete chunks. Once I reached the base of the building, I began climbing.

Decayed as it was, finding the holds necessary to do so was easy. Hell, it almost felt like I was climbing a ladder. On a few occasions I had to make my own handholds in the concrete support pillars or make a leap across a large gap, but the ascent was surprisingly quick.

Eventually, I was comfortably above the illumination pouring out of the town's floodlights. I squeezed my way through a blown out window into the crumbling interior. Once I found the building's service staircase tucked into the southeast corner, it was a matter of moments before I found myself emerging onto the uppermost intact level.

Yeah- this wasn't my best plan. To be fair though, it was far from my worst. I stalked to the edge of the building closest to Goodneighbor, looking through even more shattered windows down at the floodlights now far below. Definitely more than 80 meters.

My gaze shifted from the perimeter up to the tower across from me. It wasn't the marketplace, I think that's one building over, but it was nearly as intact. The adjacent floor wasn't only undamaged, it had lights on inside.

That complicates things. Breaking glass would be warning enough, but if the area is occupied, that might mean guards are stationed there. Dealing with them didn't concern me, but if any managed to raise the alarm, or any shots were fired, this would get loud very quickly. At that point, I wouldn't have a choice but to engage. Then there's the added possibility that Kleo would bug out as soon as the first shot went off.

There weren't any buildings in the vicinity taller than this one; if it turned into a gunfight, I'd just have to move fast. The guards wouldn't be able to slow me down much, the issue would be finding the Assaultron in time while dispatching whatever guards engaged.

I scanned the perimeter and my intended destination once more to make sure I hadn't missed anything. Three guards on the wall directly below me, four citizens between the wall and my target, several people occupying the floors below my chosen landing, none on it though. Floodlights still pointed about 10 floors below me, no patrols walking the perimeter (that was odd), more guards milling around the town, but none were watching for an intruder from above.

Nothing left to do but make the jump.

With the thought, I backed away from the edge of the building and slipped to the far side. It was about a dozen meters, plenty of space. A heartbeat later, my legs coiled and I surged into a sprint. The floor under me shook in protest and the crash of each footfall was absolutely audible to the men on the wall below. It was hard to hide half a ton at full speed.

It wouldn't matter though; a split second later, I reached the edge of the crumbling tower and launched myself into the night sky.

A rush of exhilaration washed over me as I soared high over the wall, and any guards who may be looking for me. This was far from a conventional infiltration, but few of mine were. Anything from dropping out of a D77-TC Pelican at supersonic velocity to hiding in a weapon's crate, I did what I had to. The fun ones were always the most dangerous. This was different; it had been the better part of a year since I was free to operate on my own. Sure, Fourier's squad was IV's, some of the best if I understand right, but their methods were too… rigid. Undertaking impossible missions time and again, only having myself to rely on breeds a different type of thinking. Of course being special forces, they were well versed in unconventional warfare, but it wasn't the same. It was an exercise in frustration at times, pacing myself to stay with them. Eventually Fourier agreed to put me on point which allowed me more operational freedom. This is where I belong though: on my own, only limited by my imagination and available resources.

As I soared toward the building, I twisted so the back of my left shoulder was pointed at the rapidly approaching window. I tucked my chin to my chest to avoid the worst of the impact, and pinned my rifle to my stomach with my right arm.

It took around a second for me to hurtle over the 30 meters between the takeoff and target locations. With no illumination, it would be impossible for anyone to see my deep blue, almost black armor against the darkness of the night sky. I'm not an optimist, but I doubt any of them have infrared or NVS.

My shoulder crashed through the safety glass window and as soon as I felt the pane give, I was twisting again. I tucked into a roll over my left shoulder and came up with my rifle aimed into the sparsely furnished room's dimly lit interior.

Nothing.

That certainly wasn't quiet, so I didn't have time to wait and see if someone was going to come check.

With one more quick glance, I slipped to the double doors at the far end of the room, stopped, listened, and without the telltale pounding of approaching guards, swung one open. Beyond the room that served as my landing zone was a poorly lit hallway running to t-intersections on either side. I needed to find a way to the roof (or whatever served as the current roof) before guards got here. If the brief glimpse I had of the building meant anything, I needed to climb 6 or 7 more floors.

This high up, it would take too long to get down to the marketplace if I engaged now. But if any guards were unlucky enough to find me…

I crept through into the hall and quickly pushed to the rear of the building. It didn't take long to find the service stairs.

They weren't vacant.

The sounds of boots pounding on metal seeped through the steel security door before I even had a chance to open it.

No point in being subtle now; they know I'm here, the best thing I can do is put distance between us and get across to my target's building.

I burst through the door and straight into a guard who, with his rifle down and arm extended, looked like he was just about to open the door himself. Without time to do anything else, I turned into him and the bottom of my right pauldron crashed into the man's head. The blow wouldn't be enough to kill him, but being flung over the railing and out into the void in the center of the staircase, only to fall 30 floors would.

The four other guards stared in various states of shock as I bounded up to the next floor. I should have eliminated them, it wouldn't take more than a few seconds, but at this point I didn't have many of those left if Kleo knew I was here.

As I climbed past the next 5 levels, I heard various bangs reverberating up the staircase as the guard's body crashed into the railing several times before ending with a much more definitive, wet boom.

Reaching the next floor up, I burst through the service door into another hall, this one much worse for wear. No lights illuminated the crumbling walls and I could hear wind streaming through what had to be broken windows on the far side of the building. This would work.

It had been about 20 seconds since I crashed through the side of the building. Assuming guards below my landing had heard the glass break, I had maybe another 30 seconds before things began getting hectic on the ground floor. Once the guards in the stairwell were able to report what had happened, and who I was, I wouldn't have much time to catch Kleo if she was going to run. Provided they didn't have radios, which I hadn't seen on any of the patrols this morning or on the men I'd run into, it would take them a minute or two to notify anyone without some sort of relay position. The question was, could I make it down to ground floor and through whatever mess was waiting for me there before they had time to react?

No time to wait and find out.

I ran from the staircase, turned down a hall leading me toward my target building. I caught a glimpse of the structure through a broken window at the end of the corridor and surged into a full sprint.

An instant later, I launched myself into the air once again, but with a much more direct trajectory, aiming for a window one floor below me. Luckily there were no citizens occupying that room either. Unfortunately, that meant I couldn't interrogate anyone to determine the Assaultron's position.

I'm still flying through the air between a couple of skyscrapers. One problem at a time.

Using the same method as before, I crashed through the window and cleared my landing zone before slipping out into the hall, searching for someone to 'speak' with. It didn't take long. As I got to one end of the hall, I heard the service door burst open, and the distinct sound of pounding footsteps.

The guards could be a good source of information, but did I have time to subdue them?

It was either this or risk losing the robot because I didn't know where to look.

Weaving through the collection of dishevelled offices and hallways, I hurried to meet the group. The less time they wasted getting to me the better. Unfortunately, it was impossible to keep quiet on a floor covered in discarded trash, broken wood, and overturned furniture, but I was doing a much better job of it than my prey.

50 seconds now. The guards would probably be entering the first building to begin combing it. There would be some added confusion with my second jump, so they should be a bit slower to get around to the marketplace. I needed to take advantage of that if I was going to do this with minimal fighting.

At least until I reached Kleo.

I approached a hall they were about to enter and stopped, crouched low next to the corner. It was hard to tell, but it sounded like 5 distinct sets of footsteps. Letting my rifle rest on its sling, I pulled my knife out and coiled my legs. Gunshots would only make things happen faster.

The pounding slowed as the group neared my ambush location. Just as they were about to round the corner, they stopped.

So they either know I'm here, or they're better disciplined than I give them credit for.

Their breathing was shallow but controlled. These guards were nervous, but they handled it well.

Time to change that.

The guard closest to the wall took the next step, most likely to wrap around the corner and clear the hall while another swung out to cover. I beat them to the punch. Before any of them could move further, I whirled left around the corner, still low in my crouch, and delivered an open palm strike to the chest of the stocky woman in front of me. The blow lifted her off the floor and sent her careening into two men behind her. There was a distinct lack of pulverized bone, so she was probably wearing a chest plate under her vest.

Two men on the opposite side of the hall were just beginning to register my sudden appearance when I sprung to their side of the corridor. I planted my knee into the chest of the first guard and he slammed into the wall with a loud crunch. He hadn't been wearing armor, and I felt his ribcage turn to dust under the blow.

The rear guard was leveling his rifle at me. I grabbed the barrel and, with a hard twist, wrenched the weapon from his grasp. The man doubled over, grabbing for his right hand that, no doubt, had several dislocated fingers. A quick stab of my knife, straight into his neck, up behind the left side of his jaw severed the guard's brain stem and he dropped to the floor without a sound.

The other two had finally extricated themselves from the tangle of limbs and were struggling back to their feet. The woman I'd struck was still on the ground moaning, arms wrapped around her chest. I switched the knife to my left hand and trained my rifle on the duo with my right.

"Stop", I commanded.

The two men froze, weapons half way to their shoulders.

"Drop them."

After a moment's hesitation, the guards complied.

"Where is Kleo?"

The guard to my right stepped toward me. "Why would we tell you?"

I responded, both instinctively to an advancing enemy combatant, as well as the question, by jamming my knife into the base of his skull. I didn't have time for an actual interrogation, and who the hell steps toward a person who is holding them at gunpoint?

My attention switched back to the last standing guard as I pulled the knife out with a wet squelch and the dead man dropped to the ground.

"Where is Kleo?"

The man stared up at me, wide eyed and shaking. Now I had a chance to look at him, I realized the guy was probably even younger than me. He was skinny and pale, with a figure that struggled to fill out the black uniform and tac-vest he was wearing.

"Wha- what do you want with her?" His voice was shrill and tight with fear.

I hefted the knife near his head level, and his dinner plate sized eyes switched from my faceplate to the crimson dripping blade.

"I don't have time for a back and forth. Where is she?"

"I don't know, she usually stays in her shop though. All the main vendors do."

That was probably all I would get out of him. I took a step forward, about to dispatch him the same way I had the other two, when my arm froze in place.

Why?

This kid probably only joined Goodneighbor's guard to help defend his home.

So? He's a threat, and he can report my position. Leaving enemy combatants alive is how you get killed.

The guard was staring up at me, shaking, pure terror overflowing from his almost comically wide eyes.

Sympathy is how you get killed.

Even so… I couldn't bring my knife around.

Dammit.

"Follow me, you die. Report where I am or where I'm going, a lot of other people die. Nod if you understand."

After a short pause, the young guard slowly nodded, trembling damn near full on spasms by now.

I glanced down at the other surviving guard, eyes screwed shut, still writhing and moaning. If she was lucky, her broken ribs wouldn't puncture anything important. The other two men on the opposite wall were certainly dead, as well as the third one still laying at my feet… yet this all felt so wrong. I don't leave potential threats. It was the same as when I'd shot the Brotherhood scribe. What was her name? Haylen? Except that hadn't been entirely intentional.

Before reason could reassert itself, I resheathed my knife and slipped away from, as far as I can remember, the first enemies I'd chosen to leave alive.

Just under two minutes.

There would be more guards climbing this building by now. Moving down the interior of the building was a no go. How much higher did this one extend? Another 5 floors? Maybe a bit more? I couldn't risk breaking a window out and jumping from here. Better to let them think I'm still hiding in the building somewhere.

At least until the guards I left alive reported otherwise… What the hell is wrong with me?

No point in worrying about it now.

Oh yes there is. It wouldn't take long to fix that mistake.

I could hear more boots pounding up the service staircase as I approached the steel door, but these ones were far below.

Taking a moment to clear my back, I swung the door open and began up toward the 'roof'. I probably had less than a minute before the approaching force reached the patrol I'd dispatched. At that point, it would be a race to the ground floor between me, scaling the outside of the building, and the guards down the staircase. Provided, again, no radios were involved.

On top of that, it was entirely possible the guards had already been evacuating the marketplace. If it was anything like Diamond City's, there would still be plenty of people clogging the lobby. In a building like this, it would take them five or ten minutes to get everyone cleared out. The confusion would help me get in, but would Kleo still be there when I did?

Ten seconds later, I emerged on the uppermost floor and after another five, I was at the western edge of the building, opposite from where I'd originally crashed through the window. Light was spilling over that edge of the floor, but, as I expected, the floodlights over here were still pointed outward. Consequences of having too few resources to properly defend your perimeter.

Even so, I was still on the clock. Eventually, once the guards found my victims and cleared the rest of the staircase, they would probably order the entire outside illuminated.

I stepped to the ledge, looked down, and smiled. I was almost 120 meters up at this point. It wouldn't be the first time I'd done something like this. An operation, this one with Fourier's squad, came to mind. It was shortly after I'd rotated to point. We were the 'alternative option' for a large insurrectionist base. In the middle of fast winching down one of their buildings during insertion (appropriately, as a UNSC attache was still in the middle of negotiations), we were spotted. I dodged a SPNKR missile from a M41B2 launcher. My braided nano-composite titanium cable didn't.

That drop was from much higher up. I probably would have survived the landing, but my armor would lock up to take the impact. That would have left me immobilized in the middle of a few dozen pissed off Innies with my squadmates 200 meters up.

So as I began to fall, I pushed off the building we'd been winching down toward an adjacent one and began jumping back and forth between them to control my fall. It didn't go perfectly, but that's because I accidentally slammed through a window and tumbled into the building we were supposed to be descending. Probably a better outcome than the first one.

This would be where the gunfire started.

With one last check, I hopped over the edge and began plummeting toward the ground. I pointed my chest down, flaring my arms and legs to control the fall. There was what looked like the beginnings of a perimeter forming around the base of the tower with 4 guards taking up position outside of the marketplace.

While I dropped, I ran a few rough numbers, and watched 3 seconds tick off of my clock. As soon as the third second went by, I twisted, hard. I pulled my legs to my chest and leaned back, so I was almost vertical again before jamming my feet into the brickwork racing by. My titanium clad boots broke through the building's side, jarring me hard enough that, had my bones not been reinforced, they would have splintered like dry firewood.

As it was, the force tried to flip me end over end, but I managed to drive my legs into the crumbling wall and propel myself across to the next tower over. Leaning forward, I aimed my chest at the ground and pulled my left arm to my side. This turned me, so my legs were facing their next target.

After another two count, I repeated the maneuver, directing myself at the marketplace. By this point I was less than 20 meters over the ground, still approaching it at a velocity that would kill most people. Hopefully this would be slow enough to prevent my gel layer from going into hydrostatic lockup. That was unfortunate for the handful of guards just beginning to look up as the noise and brick rained down on their heads.

With my last jump finished, I pointed the bottoms of my feet toward the guard closest to the building. As I did, my rifle came up and I sighted on the extremely surprised looking man to his right. Just as my boots were about to crash into the first guard, I squeezed the trigger and sent a pair of 5.56mm rounds through the second's skull, blowing most of his brain out onto the ground behind him.

In the next instant, 450 kilos of fast falling SPARTAN and Mjolnir slammed into my original target's head. I felt the impact, but barely slowed as the mass of me and my armor, concentrated into my armored boots, shattered the man's helmet, skull, and spine in a shower of blood and bone.

As I hit the ground, I tried tucking into a roll, but there was too much momentum, and it turned into more of a tumble. I careened through the floor to ceiling glass window, shattering it into countless pieces and sending them, as well as several screaming patrons, scattering in all directions.

I didn't wait to see what the two remaining guards behind me would do. The moment I came to a stop, I scrambled back to my feet and slipped into the writhing crowd. My size made it impossible to blend in with the citizens, but at the very least, the rush of people would eliminate the possibility of getting shot at.

Or at least that's what I thought. Before I made it five meters into the mass of now panicked citizens, a half dozen rounds cracked over my head. I glanced behind to see one of the surviving guards tackle the other as he tried to draw a bead on me.

At least one of them wasn't panicking.

I continued to push through the crowd as people bounced off of me in their haste to get out of the lobby. My mind was stuck in overdrive trying to keep track of everything, as usual, but being in the middle of a crowd at least had its benefits this time.

Halfway across the thriving mass of people, a half dozen guards emerged from the deluge directly in front of me, each carrying some form of melee weapon. The first one lunged, aiming his knife at my abdomen. I caught his arm mid-flight, twisted it to the side, and straight kicked him back into another. Suddenly, there was a three meter wide circle as the crowd parted around us.

Two others tried to widen out around me.

It was a decent idea.

My legs coiled and I sprung to my left. The guard's eyes started widening as I landed in front of him. He tried to bring a half meter long machete around. Not a good weapon for close quarters. I batted it aside and brought my right hand down in a cutting motion just inside his left shoulder. The joint crumbled along with his clavicle as the force of the blow collapsed his sternum and threw him to the ground.

I turned my head to see two others approaching from behind, one already swinging a long club at my head. I dropped into a crouch, weapon sailing over me, and twisted, sweeping his legs out with my right. The second was close enough behind that the collapsing guard crashed into them and both tumbled to the floor. Two shots later, they were missing the backs of their heads.

The remaining two were backing away defensively. Both had left their weapons on the ground and held their hands at chest level.

They looked terrified.

Shooting them would risk hitting the still roiling crowd with a pass through, and while it wouldn't take long to dispatch them hand to hand, it was time I didn't need to waste.

I waded back into the crowd and, a moment later, emerged in front of a vacant 'Guns Guns Guns'. The interior of the shop was pitch black. Switching my display to NV, the murky darkness gave way to a large room tinged green. It was filled with rifle crates, pallets of ammunition boxes, and racks of very powerful looking weapons. This Assaultron was stocked with anything a SPARTAN could ask for, from assault weapons to anti-material rifles and recoilless guns. If circumstances had been different, I would have taken a moment to appreciate the armory.

With a quick sweep, I cleared the entrance of traps before vaulting over the counter rifle up-

And the instant my armored boots touched the ground, a group of men peaked out from behind their cover and took aim. None of them had NVS, but I was silhouetted against the well lit lobby behind me.

With a thought, my display faded to normal and my helmet lights began flashing rapidly. I pointed the powerful LEDs at the men, dressed in mismatch combat armor instead of the guards' all black.

The six of them opened fire at the same time as me. While my first three shots hit the closest man, hiding behind a stack of wooden weapon crates, in the head, theirs were wild, trying to spray through the disorienting strobe. My first target collapsed to the ground, minus most of his head, and I started forward, sighting on the next shooter. As I did, it struck me odd: those misses were going straight into the crowd behind me. Did these guys not care about collateral damage?

I tucked myself behind the crates my first victim used for cover just as I dropped the second. The remaining gunfire slackened, but they hadn't been been shooting long enough to-

My legs coiled and I dove out from behind the crates, further into the dark shop's interior. A pair distinct thunks sounded off of the wall behind me as I found my feet again and rushed forward, placing a round between the eyes of another man who was at the back of the room just bringing his rifle around.

The gunfire started up again, this time I was too far forward for my flashing headlamps to affect the three remaining men at once, and I caught a burst from my left. At the same time, the pair of grenades went off behind me, blowing the crates apart and launching a cloud of shrapnel into my back.

Between the two, my shield's alarm started blaring in my helmet and the overpressure sent me into a tumble. But two grenades in a confined space like this with little to dampen the concussion? Those men would be regretting that decision.

I slammed into something hard enough to send it flying into the far wall at the back of the shop as I found my feet and skidded to a stop. Rifle back up, I saw two of the remaining men on their hands and knees, mouths hanging open as they gasped for air. The third was still hiding behind another pile of boxes across the room. He was probably protected from the worst of the blast.

Four more shots, and the two disoriented men were dead. I turned my attention to the la-

And suddenly I was no longer on my feet. My head was ringing as I found myself careening back toward the store's entrance. I crashed through the counter and tumbled into the lobby. As I slammed down on my back, my bewildered mind noticed a cloud of dust and debris exploding from the mouth of the shop and begin raining down on me.

What the hell just happened?

I stared at the storefront, trying to make sense of how I ended up outside. I could see the counter with a gaping hole torn through its center where I rammed into it, but other than that, the interior was obscured by swirling smoke and debris. The cloud was still expanding from the mouth of the store, blocking anything more than a few meters off the ground.

Bomb.

The bleating siren warning me of my depleted shields began piercing the fog draped over my mind. Whatever that was, it rang my bell hard. I didn't have a concussion, my HUD would have notified me, and I know what those feel like, but it hit me hard enough to put me on my ass literally and figuratively.

The sound of falling debris and something collapsing in the back of the store joined my armor's alarm. A few groans from the people who had been in the lobby and caught by the overpressure came through the disorientation a moment later.

That snapped me back. If there were people in here, a lot of them would be guards at this point.

Move.

Head still ringing, I climbed painfully to my feet. The lobby was a mess of sprawled citizens and a few dozen guards. Most of the building's ground floor windows were blown out, with glass shards covering the ground beyond. It took me a moment to realize the only light in the marketplace was filtering in from outside; the overhead lights had been shattered from the concussion. Even that was muted, the cloud of dust blooming over the lobby's interior like a haze.

What were they thinking with a bomb like that in here?

I began picking my way through the crowd back toward the storefront. At least there weren't many directly in front of the blast, most had probably tried to get clear when the shooting started. A few people were laying on the lobby floor, staring at the ceiling, wide eyed, blood dripping from blown eardrums. Several others were sprawled on the ground in front of the shop, pools of crimson forming under them. I couldn't see the bullet wounds through the thick layer of dust that had already covered everything, but it was obvious they'd been caught in the first spray of gunfire.

My rifle was gone, probably torn off its sling in the blast. At least my handgun was still stuck to my hip. As I pulled it from its mag clamp, a wave of anger and frustration washed over my beleaguered mind. What am I doing? I should have known better than to come here. This was always going to be a trap. If I was in Kleo's position, the moment I knew my first ambush had failed, this is what I would have done. Especially if my target had survived several large caliber rifle rounds. I can't be making mistakes like this.

There was one thing though…

I didn't look over my shoulder, but I could feel the lobby full of wounded and dead at my back. The collateral damage here was unacceptable. I wasn't the most sympathetic person, but one thing I've always made sure of is using the correct amount of force to get the job done. Some (Nate) might disagree with my methods, but non-combatants were always off limits.

Debris crunched under my feet as I skirted what was left of the counter, handgun trained on the shop's cloudy interior. Why was everything flashing…?

Shit. I switched off my strobing lights and reactivated my display's night vision system. The optics did their best to filter through the dust and smoke from the explosion, but I couldn't see more than a half dozen meters in front of me.

It was certainly personal the first time out in the city. Whenever someone tries to kill you, it's hard to take it any other way. Now though… now I was pissed.

I'm going to tear that robot apart.

As I made my way toward the back, I found body parts scattered around what was left of the armory. There wasn't much blood, explosions have a habit of flash frying any liquids, but I knew from prior experience the air would be filled with the acrid smell of burning plastic and flesh. Not for the first time, I was glad my helmet filtered out the smell as much as the smoke.

Unfortunately, the weapons that had lined the walls were twisted heaps sprawled around the room, mixing with the dismembered bodies like some macabre artwork of war. The wooden weapon crates were as much smoking mulch spread across the display. Whatever explosive they used, it wasn't the homegrown variety; those were generally gasoline or ammonium nitrate (a favorite of mine in a pinch). Both tended to be more 'bang' than 'boom' and generally set everything on fire afterwards. There was no accompanying fireball either. This was high grade explosives.

"Put your weapons down, and surrender!"

I whirled toward the front of the store, but couldn't see anything through the still settling dust. The voice was shaky. Whoever it came from was terrified.

It was the guards but… why? If I were them, I'd want to eliminate whoever had killed a dozen of their men. Hell as far as they knew, I was responsible for the bomb.

But I didn't kill that many.

Right, the six in here were very clearly not guards.

My handgun was functional, no rifle. The sniper… shit. I'd landed on it when the bomb threw me out into the lobby. I pulled the weapon from its sling and my heart dropped. The scope was crushed and its polymer stock had been shattered. Despite that, the receiver and barrel looked undamaged, though I would have to disassemble it to see. Either way, I wasn't going to take chances with a 12.7mm rifle blowing up in my face. I'd never gotten to fire the damn thing…

"You have ten seconds."

So what do I do here? I could fight my way out, but at this point it seemed likely they weren't in league with Kleo if she was willing to blow their marketplace. On the other hand, if they think I'm responsible for this, they might try something stupid anyways. And I did kill several of them on the way in.

I could make this situation a lot worse if I shoot my way out of here. I don't need this town and, most likely, Diamond City on my ass.

What if they decide to start shooting?

Then I make them understand why that's a bad idea. Until then, picking this fight only makes life more complicated.

… I hate playing politics. They put me behind a trigger, not a desk.

Yet no one else is here to do it for me. Besides, killing these people doesn't seem right.

'Doesn't seem right'. Until they start trying to kill me.

I reslung the half destroyed rifle, clamped the handgun back to my thigh, and began trudging toward the front of the shop. As I neared the lobby, light from somewhere beyond the smoke began turning the swirling clouds into a blinding mess of contorting shadows. It reminded me of morning fog hovering over the swamp near my childhood home.

A few meters from the front, I disabled NVS. My visor began polarizing to compensate for what must have been one of their perimeter spotlights.

Doubt bloomed from the back of my mind and I came to a stop just far enough away from the front to remain obscured. I was about to surrender. I'd never done this- never thought about doing this. How had it gotten to this point? Why am I putting myself at risk when I still have no reason to?

It isn't surrender.

But I'm giving them an opportunity to regain control of the situation.

I can't go with SOP when these aren't normal parameters. There are more variables than I normally work with. What happens to this settlement if I eliminate most of their guard to escape? What will the reaction be in the surrounding towns?

And what if, even after this, they're still working with Kleo?

Then that, and I, becomes their problem, and the decision is theirs.

Right… I took a deep breath. If things begin going sideways, I go back to plan A.

My feet carried me the final few meters, hands held out to my sides.

Even with my visor polarizing as far as it would go, the moment I emerged from the much thicker dust cloud that had been trapped in the storefront, I was almost blinded by their spotlight. The dead were still laying at the mouth of the storefront, while some of the citizens a little further away were just beginning to rouse themselves from the concussion shock.

"Stop there!" The voice was now outright trembling.

I stopped just outside of the shop, hands still held out to my sides.

"Identify yourself."

Identify myself? I had no intention of giving these people my name, or any information about me, really.

"I'm here for Kleo."

"I said identify yourself. We will shoot you if you don't comply."

Shooting me is a bad idea, and my retaliation wouldn't be the first reason. I looked around at the haze of fine dust trapped in the lobby. There was too much for a powerful deflagration, but it was something to worry about.

"That would cause another explosion."

"What do you mean?"

I exhaled. I hate dealing with inexperienced people. Hadn't Valentine mentioned something about the mayor being a friend?

"Is there someone else I can talk to?"

"Wha- why?"

That sounds like a 'yes'.

"The mayor. Tell him I'm a friend of Valentine's."

"Valentine? Like the detective?"

This guy was so nervous it seemed like he'd never seen a gunfight before. Why is he the one they decided to have 'negotiate'?

"Yes", I spat.

"Hold- hold on."

Hold on? Plan A is starting to sound like the better option. I shifted my weight and checked my right hand as it started to fall toward my sidearm. I didn't want to set off another explosion either, the knife would be a better option here.

Inconvenience isn't a good reason to start killing people again.

No, but being under the gun sights of someone as jump as whoever was talking for them is.

Murmuring began somewhere beyond the spotlight flooding the lobby and I heard several people running back and forth behind the entrance. Did Valentine's name carry that much weight here?

30 tense, uncomfortable seconds ticked off my mission clock as I waited. Each one felt like an eternity. An eternity of waiting for some jumpy, undisciplined guard to shoot and start the show for real. An eternity of keeping my hand from reaching for my knife. An eternity of imagining what might happen next. This is exactly why I don't do this.

Eventually, more footsteps began approaching from somewhere behind the blinding floodlight. My muscles coiled.

"This is Hancock, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" This voice was even more gravelly than Kellogg's, and unless I was imagining it, sounded a bit amused.

So they did get the mayor. My body relaxed a fraction. "An acquaintance of Valentine's."

"That doesn't mean anything. Man's a detective, he has a lot of those."

"Someone Kleo tried to kill today."

"Oh ho ho!" The Mayor let out a laugh that sounded like rocks falling over a cliff. "So you're the reason she's got my town swarming with men. What'd you do to piss her off."

"Agreed to a job. She betrayed my companion and I."

"What's this then? Payback?"

A bit. "I won't let her try again."

"So you attack my town to get back at her. It's my men you killed in there."

I didn't respond immediately. There wasn't much to say to that. Though…

"The bomb was her's."

"I guessed as much", Hancock replied, this time sounding both tired and irritated. "But that doesn't change anything. You killed my guys and are the reason she blew up my market. I'm not in the business of letting people get away with that. Makes us look like pushovers, you know?"

"I don't care about your reputation. As long as you aren't hiding Kleo, I'm willing to walk away."

The mayor laughed again. "You aren't in a position to negotiate tin man, even with that fancy armor."

It isn't just the armor.

"I have no intention of surrendering to you."

Someone else near Hancock began talking, too low for me to make out any words. After whoever it was had finished, the mayor hesitated a moment before responding. "So, what, you're saying you can take all my guys when they've got you under the gun?"

"I'm saying you don't have to find out."

"And if we want to?"

Why would you want to? This is why I don't do politics; what the hell is this guy talking about?

Patience was running very thin. My right arm tensed, ready to reach for my handgun. The knife wasn't going to start deflagration, but the most important part of any fight was the first five seconds. If I didn't take any guards out of the picture, only able to dodge away with my knife, it would put me in a compromised position.

But was firing in here a good idea? The mixture of dust was undoubtedly combustible, but it wouldn't 'explode' in the traditional sense. Deflagration essentially creates a fireball. The issue for most people is they aren't protected by damn near indestructible armor, and even if they survive, the combustion would burn all of the oxygen in the lobby. Then if the few dozen people at my feet survive being suffocated too, the vacuum created by the fireball would kill them.

If Hancock made it necessary, it wasn't my fault he got even more of his people killed.

Maybe I can use that.

What?

If he starts this fight, it's going to end with all of these people dying, and anyone close enough to the open windows for that matter. If he does care about his people, I can use that. But if I'm going to do this, I need to sell it.

I made a show of looking around the lobby. "Most of the dust in here is probably wood or gunpowder. Those burn very well."

"What's your point?"

"Any gunfire is going to start a deflagration."

"A what?"

He doesn't know what a deflagration is? Do these people know anything about combat?

"Another bomb."

The mayor hesitated again. "How?"

Holy shit. "I'm not here for a physics lesson. You let me go, you don't have to find that out either."

"I'm just supposed to let you go after what's happened", the mayor spat back.

"Only if you don't want it to get worse."

"I don't like how you think you call the shots guy."

My patience was at its end. I was only a few meters outside of the assaultron's storefront. The dust and debris in there was thick enough to prevent the combustion from pushing too far inside. The only question was if Kleo had another exit.

She had to. The Assaultron was clearly well prepared for my assassination attempt. Anyone with the forethought to rig their own property to blow is going to have more than one escape plan.

I turned my head just enough to see back into the shop. "I don't call the shots, I'm just telling you what's going to happen."

Another pause. I again heard muttering behind the beam pouring light through the lobby's main entrance.

"Say, tin man, how do you know Valentine?"

My eyes narrowed. "What?"

"You said you're a friend of that old broken down private eye. How'd you meet him?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Well." Another short pause. "One of my guys here told me someone wiped out most of Skinny Malone's crew to break him out of that Vault of theirs. Set that bastard back years and scared the shit outta him. Rumor has it whoever it was had on some fancy looking armor. That you?"

That wasn't hard to piece together.

"Yes."

A short low laugh. "And you're saying you're gonna do the same here if we don't let you walk."

"Yes."

"Well damn boys", Hancock said, his voice almost amused again, "we got ourselves a goddamn celebrity here. Took Skinny out of the picture for a few years, managed to get past all our guys, and scared Kleo so bad she blew her own shop trying to kill him. Maybe we oughta take him at his word."

There was more muttering behind the spotlight, this time a half dozen voices that sounded like they were arguing.

"Okay tin man, one more question. You got anything against us? You did attack my guards. I need to know what your play is."

"I'm after Kleo. Your people were in my way."

"Huh. If we met another time, I would offer you a job."

That's nice. "Well?"

"Kleo's gone. Don't know where she is, but you're gonna leave now, and if you ever set foot in Goodneighbor again, you'll see how hard we can fight."

"Understood." Unless she comes back. That robot wants me dead, I don't give people another chance.

"Good." The floodlight shut off, plunging the lobby back into darkness. My visor cleared and I watched the citizens and guards groggily finding their feet. Outside the building were another dozen guards, most of them with their weapons still trained on me.

Standing in the center was a Ghoul. Didn't Nate say Hancock was a Ghoul? He was the first one I'd seen that didn't attack on sight. Besides the actual clothes he was wearing: a large red overcoat with a tattered button up shirt, black pants, boots and an odd looking hat, he looked the same as the Ferals I'd fought before. The pockmarked skin, sunken eyes, and burnt off nose were all what I'd come to expect from them. The lopsided, borderline amused smile was not.

"Stay there until we get these people cleared out", he shouted over the grown din in his odd, gravelly voice. "Once we've got things under control, these boys will walk you out."

It took 15 minutes or so to get everyone out of the lobby. I stepped back into the destroyed storefront to both get out of the way, and more importantly give myself a modicum of cover in case one of the guards lost their nerve. Their faces remained impassive, but the half dozen guards that remained outside the market's entrance watching me stared uncomfortably .

The sudden change must have been a combination of that and fear. They didn't know what would happen if I engaged, they just knew I'd killed most of the Triggermen. That made them afraid.

Guess I've already started building a reputation.

As I climbed the tower's service staircase back to the floor Nate was (hopefully) still waiting, an odd combination of irritation and satisfaction danced through the back of my head.

Kleo had escaped. That was irritating.

But I finally found someone smart enough to survive. Sure, she hadn't engaged me directly, but the Assaultron was prudent and disciplined enough to have precautions in place that, against anyone else, would have killed them. She made sure she wasn't in the line of fire, now has intel on me, and can better prepare for my next assault (or her next attempt on us).

Then I was irritated again for not seeing that coming. I've gotten lazy. Maybe it's because of my time with Fourier's squad, running more conventional (at least for me) operations. Maybe it's because I've gotten used to the minimal effort I've had to put into fighting while here. Maybe my head still isn't on straight. Whatever the case, I needed to get back to being me.

I reached the door leading to the tenth floor and gave it three pounds. After a few seconds, two came back from somewhere behind it.

At least that went right.

Inside, I did a quick scan of the expansive room, destroyed furniture scattered the same way it had been when I left, but no sign of Nate. I felt his eyes though. Rustling from the ceiling caught my attention and I instinctively switched my display to NV. As I did, I caught a glimpse of a rifle barrel hidden just inside one of the many holes in the ceiling.

My mind pulled in two different directions: I knew that was probably Nate, but my head was still screaming at me to move. The instincts that had kept me alive for the past 15 years won the fight, and I dove to the side, bringing my handgun up as I came out of my role.

"Whoa", Nate's voice came from above, more than a little alarmed, "slow down, I don't need to get shot again today." I lowered my rifle and stood. After a few seconds I heard him mutter, "especially in the head."

A moment later, he had dropped down from the ceiling and ambled over to me, a small smile on his face. "Good spot huh?"

The position was risky, he would be a sitter if more than two or three people came calling, but considering the circumstances, it wasn't bad. If I'd been using NVS, I would have noticed it almost immediately.

"Yes."

"That didn't sound very sincere", my companion replied, frowning now.

I shrugged. His tactical decisions weren't what I had on my mind.

"You seem irritated."

"Kleo wasn't there."

The ex-soldier paused. He looked concerned, but I couldn't tell what he was worried about.

"So... what happened?"

"Got to her store, she wasn't there. Blew the market when I killed her men."

His eyes widened. "She blew the market? How many people did she kill?"

"None. A few died in the crossfire before. I killed some guards though. We can't go back."

"You killed Goodneighbor guards", Nate asked, anger sharpening his voice. "Why?"

Why did I kill their guards? To get in. It was obvious, and he knew it. More than that, I wasn't going to stand here and be interrogated by the man.

"I'm not justifying my decisions to you. It's safer to stay here for the night than go back to Diamond City."

"You aren't-" The ex-soldier took a deep breath. "You do understand Diamond City and Goodneighbor have a lot of ties, right? If we aren't allowed back at Goodneighbor, we may not be able to get into Diamond City anymore either."

That's something I thought about on my way back; it might be an issue short term, but it was something I could deal with."Yes."

"So why did you attack their guards? Were they with Kleo?"

I was already irritated, his pestering only exacerbated it. I had screwed the pooch. Maybe not in the way he was upset about, but I needed to be better. The guards were between me and a target, but it was a target I should have known wouldn't be there. If I'm this sloppy when I, inevitably, have to deal with the Brotherhood, it's going to get me killed.

And the thought that my own ineptitude might get me killed pissed me off.

"No."

Making mistakes was something I worked even harder to stamp out than Katrina or Mendez. At the range, hand to hand drills, CQC practice, survival training… everything. Once, after one of the 'real life sims' where I was lucky to not get airlifted out, I snuck into the temporary base's supply building, stole provisions for two weeks, and hiked almost 80 klicks away. More than once, I pushed so hard to get something right in hand to hand, I ended up in the infirmary. It got to the point that they had to slow me down prior to my augmentation procedures.

It may have been different for the first few years of real combat, but mistakes are something I don't make anymore. I was making them now, and the idea that I didn't know exactly why was almost as aggravating as making the mistakes themselves.

I brushed past the ex-soldier, heading toward the center of the room. The smaller man grabbed my arm, but I barely noticed him as I pulled free.

"Look", he hissed, "you can't just-"

I turned on Nate as my temper flared. "Enough." My voice was low, partially from habit, but mostly because I could feel anger boil just below the surface. For once, it wasn't Nate's doing, but he was going to turn into its focus if he kept going.

The ex-soldier fell quiet. He clearly wanted to argue, but there was an understanding in his eyes. There was fear too. An all too familiar fear that, up until recently, I saw in his eyes every time he looked at me.

It didn't mean anything, normally.

But now… it didn't hurt, but it was bitter. The understanding though, that was new.

I didn't know what to do with it, his understanding or the discomfort teasing at the back of my mind.

So instead of thinking about that, I went back to what I know: what I need to do better next time. I turned away from Nate and trudged toward the room's center. I should probably get some sleep, I hadn't gotten any since the day prior. And I needed some time to sort this mess out.

A/N: I know, it wasn't a very big twist, but oh well. Our SPARTAN friend is asking a lot of questions he's avoided up until now, and it's all pretty uncomfortable for him. I hope I'm making that clear enough, but if not... well that's what reviews are for. That's all for this chapter, I will be posting another one this month. It's relatively short and there's a reason for that, but I'll talk about that when it happens. Have a good weekend!

Next Chapter: June 19th, Trust is a Funny Thing