A/N: And the cliffhanger comes to an end. I know I said I didn't like using cliffhangers, and I don't, this was just one of those situations where my choices were either this, or write a 30k word chapter. I really didn't want to do that. I had a lot of fun with these last few chapters. They allowed me to explore some more… creative writing both when it comes to the fighting and the interactions between the characters. Something that's bugged me about a lot of stories (not just fanfics) is their tendency to make the MC or central group of characters hyper-competent and everyone else paper tigers. If you've read any of the Troy Denning Halo books you know what I mean. Is Damon extremely good at what he does? Yeah, but that doesn't mean other people suck. Also, Damon's Damon which means he's pretty horrid at everything else. This is a ramble-y way of saying I'm incorporating that in a pretty fun way, I thing. Anyway, I've rambled long enough, leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!

Chapter 53: Let's Play a Game

They've gotten better…

No matter how good someone is, there are almost always signs of passage. In this case, it was disturbed dust and rubble. The problem for the Institute was their Synths, while decent, were far from good. Their ambush positions were too formulaic. It wouldn't make sense for them to send their regular forces after me. That meant there would be Coursers in the area too.

That being said, the standard combat Synths' positions were alright for (relatively) conventional fighters.

It had been three hours since I climbed out of the river. I spent most of that time searching for Institute forces. I spotted six positions so far. Each was within sight of at least two others. Four of them were in crumbling structures directly on the river, two others were hidden on the shoreline. Since I couldn't visually confirm their positions, I'd guess those two teams were Coursers.

Their cover, visual contact with each other, and overlapping fields of fire suggested there may only be those six. I'm not going to count on it. They know I'm alive and have for the better part of two weeks. If Nate is anything, it's careful. Someone doesn't survive almost two decades of combat any other way.

As far as I can tell, the fight between the Brotherhood and Institute ended shortly after I reached the south end of downtown Boston. There was no way of knowing who won, but I don't think the Institute's goal was to take a bite out of the Brotherhood. With these teams out here looking for me, I'm thinking that was a distraction, and their real target was me.

Me and the Railroad.

Now, having teammates I have to worry about, I was itching to contact Glory and get a status update. That's a new feeling. While operating with Fourier's fireteam, we were almost always in contact on secure channels.

There are no secure comm channels here. The only people who may have them are the Institute, and they're the ones coming after me.

But if the Institute has the equipment needed to triangulate a transmission, I can't allow them to find me. I definitely can't allow them to find the Railroad. They've survived against the Institute for a long time. They have security protocols in place for events like this. I just hope I pulled enough attention away from them.

Now the question is what to do next. It was almost 0400 and the sun would be up in a few hours. I haven't found any new positions for the last hour and 45 minutes. That doesn't mean there aren't any other positions. It doesn't mean, if there aren't, the Institute doesn't have any other tricks up its sleeve.

How do I figure out what those are…?

Lying in the collapsed ruins of what at one point had been a gas station, my gaze flipped from known location to known location. The four buildings were all directly on the water's edge. That probably wasn't how they were built. If I had to guess, wind and water erosion degraded the shoreline that was now nearing their foundations. They were organized in pairs of two, each building they'd taken position in directly across from another. The only signs they were in there had been freshly disturbed rubble. After finding that, I caught a glimpse of Synths in two of the four positions. One was in a building on the east side of the river, top floor, or the uppermost floor that hadn't crumbled into the water. There was another to their south on the opposite side of the river.

With the river gently bending to the left, going northeast, then turning north, those were the only ones I had clear sightlines on. Then there were the other two positions, probably rear-guards, that were most likely on the ground, both to the south of the others. The ones on the ground would be Coursers.

What I need to do is draw out a response without exposing myself or my position.

But that doesn't necessarily need to be this gas station. It isn't a good one for engaging at least two of the Institute's positions.

How do I get a response?

If they're coming after me, I have to assume they've prepared for it. Nate's seen me fight and, while he doesn't have exact information on SPARTAN IIIs or Mjolnir armor, he's smart enough to figure it out. That means they'll likely have had him help their trainers strategize.

That means something cheap won't work here, I need to give them something to think about.

Gunfire… Anyone would react to gunfire. Now, that reaction would depend on its effectiveness. One thing I know Nate knows is I'm a good shot, and I wouldn't take a shot unless I was going to hit it. Popping off a few rounds won't pull out the response I want. If anything, they'll pull out.

I don't want them to pull out. Not before I have a chance to send a message.

While the target to the north, on my side of the river, was mostly obstructed by a piece of the building, both the MK18 and the McMillan would punch straight through what was left of the stonework. Both of those would also be a dead giveaway with their booming reports and massive muzzle flashes.

The only other firearm I have on me is my 10mm handgun and, at the 100 or so meters between that target and me, I don't think I'd make that shot. It won't dig through that cover and I know, from my assault on Fort Hagen, it wouldn't get through their armor.

But what if I don't need to kill one of them to get a reaction? If they know I know where at least one of their positions is, most teams would assume I know where more are.

It's a gamble, but if I do it right, it isn't a gamble that puts me at risk.

How do I remote fire a handgun?

The old fashion way: string.

String… That would work.

It was a calm night, with very little wind. It's also cool out so the water and air should be close in temperature. That means little to no draft coming off the river. 100 meters with a 10mm handgun…

Doing the math in my head as I went, I carefully, quietly, pulled a few of the pieces of rubble around me and arranged them so I could wedge the pistol in place between them. Another beneath the front to hold the barrel at the angle I wanted, aiming about 6 meters above my target, and one last piece against the rear to keep the recoil from flinging it backward.

Next was something I could use as string. It had to be long and have very little stretch. Wire would do nicely.

It wasn't what I'd normally use wire for, but a trap is a trap.

After wedging the handgun in place, I made a small loop with the wire and slipped it over the trigger. With the safety off, I crawled backward, unwinding the wire from its spool ahead of me. Ideally, I'd cross back to the west side of the river but I'd have to retreat far enough they wouldn't be able to see me. I don't know if there are patrols to my south.

There also isn't enough wire on this spool.

No, the next best option would be to move to a position I can watch the ground teams from or where I think the ground teams are.

That would work.

I slipped away from the gas station and directly east. There were a few small collapsed buildings in the area but, for the most part, it was clear. After 20 meters, the building my handgun was targeting disappeared from view. I could still see the building across the water, so I was careful to stay low and away from any visual openings. The Institute might have moved teams into this area after I searched it too.

30 seconds and 50 meters later, the spool came to its end. I found a position in another ruined building, this one a storefront. It wasn't as far as I'd like, but it was as far as I'd be going. I could still see into the alleys the two ground teams were probably hiding in, using the shade against the moonlight and their active camo to avoid detection. Both were covered in rubble and creeping plants as well, giving anyone in it plenty of visual cover.

No point in waiting.

Once I was in a position where I could still watch each of the three still visible positions, I yanked on the wire.

The unmanned handgun barked a round out.

When I pulled on it a second time, another report sounded.

Then a third.

The fourth time I did, the wire slipped. I felt it begin dragging across the ground. Whether the pistol had fallen out of my makeshift slot or the loop was no longer around the trigger didn't matter. With my bait out of commission, I could only watch and wait.

There were countless responses; pulling out, any number of direct action tactics, hell they could even use explosives. Then there's the possibilities their Molecular relay opened up. Considering how they've exploited it so far, that's what I'd guess they'll use.

My former position wasn't where I focused though. I pulled the MK18 to my shoulder and peered through its scope toward the alley directly ahead of me. When you're looking for enemies using active camo, searching for the targets themselves is generally not helpful. If you're lucky, you'll catch a glimpse of one but I've found, through trial and error, it's much more reliable to search for signs of movement. Hiding a human, or Sangheili, sized target is easy enough. Hiding moving foliage or puffs of dust from footsteps is almost impossible.

So, as a brilliant flash to my left illuminated the night, I caught the small cloud that kicked up from the rubble-strewn alley's concrete surface. It was almost hard to miss in the white flash of a relay transit.

As my sights shifted from the ground to torso level, I waited for the second footstep to confirm their location. It came an instant later as the light faded and my finger squeezed my rifle's trigger.

I was counting on two things: first, the blinding explosion of light would ruin the night vision of anyone looking in this direction, meaning my muzzle flash wouldn't be as noticeable. The second was their tendency to use explosives as quick reaction measures. If they know where the gunfire came from, which it appears they do, they drop a bomb and try to blow me to hell.

The deafening blast came a heartbeat later as my rifle went off. I watched as the high-powered round hit something hard.

There was no time to appreciate the shot because the explosion's shockwave was powerful enough to shake the precariously perched rubble of the building I was in. More than shake. A piece came down and slammed into the back of my shoulder. As more started collapsing around me, I scrambled backward out of what was left of the crumbling structure.

With what was left of it collapsing to the ground, I headed east toward another building. The small storefront, not unlike the one I'd left, would give me visual cover from the would-be ambushers and space to move north into the city.

Now they have three options: hunker down, run, or flood the zone. They know I know where at least two of their positions were, which means, in their mind, I might know where all of them are. I sprung their trap and got away unscathed.

Keeping my stride silent against the broken concrete interspersed with rubble was difficult, especially when I was trying to cover a hundred meters in the few seconds' distraction I had. In the end, I traded some stealth for speed. Making noise wouldn't matter if I was caught in the open. They know I'm in the area, the goal is to keep them from learning exactly where I'm at.

As I made it to another row of buildings that looked like they'd been apartments, I ducked in between two of them. My NVS illuminated the dark alley in a wash of twilight glow.

Nothing. The rubble was undisturbed and there was a thin layer of dirt across the ground. While it had a few older footprints that probably belonged to Feral Ghouls, it hadn't been disturbed recently.

Good.

More traps are a concern, especially considering the three hours they had to set anything up, but it's unlikely they'd want to risk being seen doing so.

At least so far, there weren't any other teleporter flashes. That means they were probably staying put for now. It makes sense; dumping a large force here would only put more of their units at risk. It wasn't just me they had to worry about. The Brotherhood was undoubtedly on high alert with what just happened in Quincy. Putting enough Synths in the area to canvas it would only draw more Brotherhood in-

The brilliant white explosion of light reflected off the buildings around me.

Then another.

And a third.

Fourth.

Fifth.

More and more continued illuminating the night and I crept to a stop at the north end of the alley, peering out into the street.

What the hell?

One exploded directly in front of me. I snapped my eyes shut and backpedaled into the darkness of the narrow passage between apartments but my eyes were already swimming.

So now they're flooding the area with forces? Why? Why didn't they do this the instant I set off their trap? Why were they bringing in so many?

That last question was pretty stupid.

I shook my head trying to get rid of the sunspots swirling around my vision. It was pointless, I know.

If they keep doing this… How many would they be able to field? How many would they be willing to field? My mind raced to remember the layout of their teleporter bays as my feet carried me south again. Right now I need distance.

There were a half dozen they could use… but the Brotherhood had been able to teleport to random locations in their facility. On top of that, I've been teleported from random locations to their molecular relay bays. That may be the most reliable and efficient method, but if they want to, can they do without them?

The answer doesn't matter all that much at this point. What's important now is putting space between myself and an enemy force of unknown strength.

Sprinting east, the teleportations came to a stop, but I'd lost count at the ninth one that blinded me.

At least nine teleportations, five or six Synths per transit, that means at a minimum there were 45 more out here. I never bet on a minimum.

While that number is tolerable, I need to get into a better position to handle it.

Besides-

Besides, with that many relay signals, the Brotherhood would be hauling ass to get down here and figure out what's going on. This may be on the opposite side of the city from them, but with the fight that went down at Quincy, and this level of activity, there's no way any competent fighting force would leave this unattended.

And they'd be coming with force.

A razor-sharp smile crept across my face as I turned north on a four-lane wide road with a few buildings collapsed across it. Did they do that on purpose? Did they send out mass transit signals to lure the Brotherhood here?

That is some seriously good planning if they did.

If that's their play, they didn't just start that fight in Quincy as a distraction for me, they did it to raise the alarm with the Brotherhood, and put them on high alert for something like this.

From my time around Ayo, I don't think he has the capacity to come up with a strategy with this many moving parts. Was it Nate? Brown and Weller were both intelligent if a bit stiff. They might be able to do something like this.

Not important, I'm on the clock.

Right. Brotherhood probably incoming.

Much more careful to keep my feet clear of any debris and setting my armored boots down on the concrete as softly as I could, I continued north toward the more built-up areas of the city. I don't have any safehouses nearby, but it will be much easier to lose any pursuers here.

The distant pounding of rotors echoed from the crumbling buildings around me. The Brotherhood weren't just on high alert, they'd already scrambled quick reaction forces.

That clever bastard. If this was Nate-

"AAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The deep, nasally shout came from across the street to my right and I surged forward as gunfire poured out of a grocery store. It slammed into the building I'd just sprinted past, turning its front into flying chunks of brick and concrete.

Irritation was already flickering in the back of my head.

Supermutants were the last thing it needed.

Fuck it.

My mind was telling me I should run, that turning to fight these bastards would waste time and draw more attention.

I've gotten a lot better at ignoring that voice of reason recently.

Spinning around, I sighted on the building they'd shot from. Most of the gunfire came from the first floor and, sure enough, my first victim lumbered out onto the street. It was a big green-yellow-skinned motherfucker wearing enough armor most regular humans would collapse beneath it. The chest plate looked like it had been from some sort of power armor while its legs and arms were wrapped in various steel plates. The thing's head was partially covered by a helmet that looked like it had been made by a 12-year-old with a hammer, and it was carrying a minigun.

All of that armor, and the massive gun, didn't mean much when the brainless Supermutant meandered into the street, swinging its weapon around without any clue where I might be.

The MK18 boomed and I watched as the shot collided with the thing's left eye. Its ridiculous-looking helmet shot into the air as its head exploded in a fountain of blood. The red was intensified by my NVS so it appeared to almost glow in the night as the thing's body tumbled to the ground.

Another pair followed it out, these two closer to what I'd come to expect: almost no armor and weapons that looked like they were barely functional. Before either could get off a shot, the first one's head turned into another red explosion. The second roared as he pulled his rifle up, but he joined the other two without firing.

There's no way of knowing how many are in there and, with how much shooting I've done, I only have three full magazines left.

That minigun though… That was enticing.

As the sound of pounding rotors began growing louder I ran forward, rifle still roughly aimed at the door the Supermutants had exited.

Just as I reached it, a fourth green-skinned monstrosity barreled out. I didn't slow.

The thing saw me bearing down on it and barely had time to swing a large club at me. Dropping my rifle to fall on its sling, I shunted the blow aside by grabbing its wrist with my right hand. I drove my left palm into the back of its elbow hard enough the joint exploded outward and, as I twisted around behind it, the Supermutant let out a piercing scream.

With my momentum already traveling across the doorway, I pulled my latest victim with me by its ruined arm and swept its legs out as I went. I drove myself down on top as the two of us crashed to the garbage strewn sidewalk. I felt more than heard several sharp snaps in the thing's chest.

"AUGAAAAAGH!"

This time when it screamed, it came in a garbled mess. Blood sprayed from the thing's disfigured mouth as its chest cavity collapsed.

Pounding footsteps came from inside the building and another group of Supermutants burst into the night as I sprang back to my feet. This must have been the group from the second floor.

I pulled my rifle up with my right hand and pumped two rounds into the first one's chest. It died instantly, the second round blowing its spine apart just below its neck. The other two behind it didn't seem to care though. They shoved their now dead comrade forward and, with the combined mass slamming into me, I stumbled backward and crashed to the ground.

With the three large mutants on top of me, I couldn't pull my rifle up. They were both already scrambling for their guns.

Releasing the rifle, my right hand shot to my knife. As I ripped it from its sheath, the first Supermutant managed to aim its sickly looking handgun down at my head.

Even if the round wouldn't do much, instinct still screamed at me to do something- anything to get out of the line of fire. With a grunt of exertion, I managed to pull my right knee toward me and used the leverage to twist toward it. The gun went off a few centimeters from my head but the round missed. My shields still flared as shrapnel from the concrete exploded into me.

In retaliation, I swung my arm up and around, burying it in the Supermutant's hand, blade facing down toward me.

It did exactly what I thought it would.

Bellowing a wordless shout that was equal parts pain and rage, it jerked its arm back. The shout turned into another scream as the knife sliced through the bastard's hand. Blood poured from the wound and its handgun dropped to the ground by my head.

That would be much easier to use in tight quarters.

My left hand scrambled for the pistol and, after a moment, I pulled it from the ground and aimed it back at its owner's head.

While the handgun didn't produce anywhere near as spectacular a result as the MK18, the hole it punched in the underside of the ting's chin was enough to do the job.

As I pulled the trigger, the second Supermutant did the same. It's shot hit me in the right shoulder and my shields burst to life again. With two bodies between myself and it, I couldn't pull my arm over far enough to aim at the thing.

Another round slammed into my head while I struggled with the half ton of dead weight on top of me.

By the time the third round went off though, I'd managed to pull my left knee up to my chest. I used it as leverage to shove the two dead Supermutants toward the last living member of the little group. When they impacted, it threw the aim of the thing's fourth shot off. Momentum was on my side now. I braced my left arm against the sidewalk beneath me and continued twisting. With a surprised yelp, the Supermutant tumbled off of me and I rolled to my left.

I didn't bother trying to stand. Instead, I pulled the confiscated handgun up as my spin brought me back around to face the last Supermutant and put a round through its left eye.

Now the sound of Vertibirds was close. If I had to guess, they were within half a klick of me, flying low since I couldn't see them yet.

Not much time.

Scrambling to my feet, I dragged the first Supermutant I killed, the one with the heavy armor and minigun, inside and pulled the massive ammo pack from its back. The thing was unwieldy, but it had been designed to fit over this universe's version of power armor. Mjolnir is bulky, but it has nothing on T-60. The problem was the McMillan on my back.

I'll just have to make do.

With the pack slung over one shoulder, I snatched the gun from the ground and slipped back outside. Using weapons this cumbersome isn't usually something I go for, but with what's about to happen, having high volume suppressing fire will be useful.

The Vertibirds sounded like they were directly over where the Institute had tried to ambush me.

No laser fire.

Those bastards had done this to draw the Brotherhood to me.

Even though I'm the one who was baited into a trap, I couldn't help but be impressed. That's something I'd do- something I intend to do. It wasn't anything original, but all the same…

It wasn't more than a few seconds before the VTOLs fanned out in a search pattern. I'd barely managed to make it to the next intersection to the north before a pair of the bulbous aircraft appeared over the broken buildings to my right.

Squeezing the trigger on my new toy, I pulled it around. As the barrels got to full speed, it began peppering the right Vertibird with a hail of small caliber rounds.

They weren't heavy enough to take either aircraft down, but I watched as a burst slammed into the canopy over the co-pilot. Before either could pull up, the thick reinforced glass was turned into a tapestry of cracks. I continued spraying rounds into the thing's underside as the pair of Vertibirds buzzed over me. Nothing made it through.

And now they know I'm here.

Again.

There were two differences though. First: I'm not in the middle of the wilderness this time. I'm in the city which makes things more dangerous for them. Second: I have a weapon that can get through their canopy.

On top of that, I have the element of surprise. They don't know I've got the right hardware to drop one of their birds. As far as they're aware, the best anti-air weapon I have is the minigun.

Best to keep it that way until I get the right opportunity.

Pounding rotors came from all around me. It was impossible to tell exactly how many Vertibirds they sent after the Institute.

Question is are they willing to use the task force they'd sent after Synths to track me? I'd be a little disappointed if they weren't. They have numbers, more than they did the last time this happened.

I moved as quickly as I could without dislodging the ammo pack from my shoulder. They probably wouldn't bring that now-damaged Vertibird back around, which means the next attack will be coming from a different direction.

This time though, I'm not running. Just like with the Institute, I want to send a message. It's been a few weeks since I ambushed them in the hospital. It seems I need to remind them both they can't come after me half cocked.

The Institute didn't. They executed a well-thought-out plan and only lost one of their Synths. To me at least.

As I reached another intersection, I caught a glimpse of something rushing toward me from the west-

Feral Ghouls.

There were 4 of them, 30 meters away.

They didn't get another five meters before the minigun turned them into pulp in the street.

Just as I was turning back around, two more Vertibirds started a strafing run toward me. They were heading directly north on the street I'd just run up. Neither had their bellies more than 10 meters above the buildings beneath them. Both were coming in fast, turbines whining and rotors beating the air.

No sooner had I turned toward them than their chin guns started belching rounds at me. The first few crashed into the asphalt about 20 meters ahead. With how fast they were going, those would be hitting me in a heartbeat.

No time to bring the minigun up. I threw myself to the side and the stream of projectiles slammed into the pavement.

There wasn't any time to recover though. There was another flight directly behind them.

Shit.

This is why I don't like large, cumbersome weapons…

Dropping the minigun, I twisted to the side as those two VTOLs opened up as well. The weapon took a direct hit from one of the aircraft. It must have hit somewhere hard because, instead of exploding, the impact sent the weapon skittering across the pavement.

Not that it would be useful again.

As I continued my roll, I allowed the ammo pack to slip off of my shoulder.

One of those pilots was good though.

Two of the high powered rounds caught me as they flew by, one glancing off of my left leg, and another off of my back. Neither were direct hits, but the impacts were enough to drain my shields by a quarter.

A quick scan of the sky around me confirmed there were no other Vertibirds on approach, but that wouldn't last. The air was still humming with the thud of rotors while dirt and dust were being kicked into the air. At best I have ten seconds before I get hit by another strafe. Unlike last time, they were here in force and going for the kill.

They aren't the only ones.

With the clock in my head ticking, I sprang to my feet, unclamping the McMillan. I need better cover. They weren't prepared to find me on the first go around. Those pilots will be this time.

The pitch of pounding rotors to my east increased. They were heading toward me again.

No time. Good cover would have to wait. I lunged for the nearest building, a four story brick and stone structure to my left. As I skid to a stop, I checked to make sure there was a round in the chamber and clicked the safety off.

No time for anything fancy. This next pass is about who's the better shot.

That's a bet I'll take.

Wheeling around, I dropped to a knee and peered through the scope as the pair of Vertibirds appeared over the buildings ahead of me. As soon as they were in sight, the pair of chin guns began chugging and concrete kicked up around me.

Time slowed to a crawl as I centered my sights on the bulbous left cockpit window. It seemed like the fast moving aircraft were almost frozen in place, hovering over the rooftops. Their guns flash bright in the night sky and, if it weren't for my armor's advanced NVS, it would have played hell with my aim.

They were maybe 200 meters away and closing.

I shifted my aim up, exhaled, and squeezed the trigger.

With a muzzle flash that lit the street around me and blast that threw dirt up from the broken concrete, the rifle sent one of its massive rounds toward the Vertibird to my right. An instant later, it crashed into the reinforced glass canopy and, this time, punched straight through.

The Vertibird wobbled and the gunfire pouring from its chin gun ceased-

But it didn't go down. The VTOL steadied itself and began climbing.

Had I missed? Had the copilot taken over?

It didn't matter, not yet. What matters is the other aircraft was still shooting at me.

As my right hand racked the bolt, I shifted to my left, back out into the street. I felt one of its rounds scream through the spot I'd just vacated.

My finger tightened around the rifle's trigger and it sent another round down range. An instant after I fired, the Vertibird's chin gun hit my left shoulder. My shields flared in protest and the force of the impact spun my aim away.

This time, the damage was done.

I watched as the VTOL nosed over and slammed into the broken street. It plowed through the rusted remains of cars, throwing up debris as it carved a massive furrow in the pavement.

There was no time to admire my handiwork.

Throwing myself back toward the building, I dove inside its crumbling interior. A few seconds later, the Vertibird churned through the spot I'd just been standing.

That fall wasn't far. If there had been anyone in power armor, they may have survived the impact.

With another round in the chamber, I slipped back out into the street and ran after the downed aircraft. There were small fires in the engine pods and, even from here, I could see the cockpit had been crushed by the crash, but the Vertibird's structure was still largely intact.

From the sounds of it, the others were still buzzing the area, but none of them came on another strafe. With two of their aircraft damaged and one downed, they probably didn't want to risk more.

How long will that last? How long until they realize they can't keep losing resources to me piece by piece?

Slowing as I approached the Vertibird, I scanned the wreck for signs of life.

In unison, the pitch of the pounding rotors increased.

Maybe that's now.

But it wasn't. The concussions began heading north. Fast.

What the hell? That's new. Even when they've stopped assaults before, they don't usually pull out entirely, especially like this. Their SOP is to slow down and set up a net.

Figure that out after I secure the crash site.

Sounds, something heavy hitting metal, came from the downed VTOL. And again. So I was right, at least someone survived the impact.

As I approached the Vertibird, I swung wide around it, hugging the left side of the street. At this range, the high powered scope on the McMillan was a liability, but it's more point and shoot now.

Whatever was moving in there did so again. It was more than one again.

I drew even with the door of the passenger compartment-

And ducked beneath a burst of laser fire.

The McMillan boomed and its massive round punched through the helmet of a power armored Brotherhood soldier. They were trying their best to hide behind part of the Vertibird's door jam, but that bulky armor was working against them.

They tumbled to the steel deck with a heavy thud and I caught sight of three more armored forms. Two of them were motionless, the third was stuck. They were pinned by the bulkhead between the cockpit and the passenger compartment. It had collapsed on the soldier's left leg, which was now buried beneath it. The limb was bent at an extremely unnatural angle.

While the armored figure continued struggling weakly to free themselves, I slowly approached the VTOL. The soldier seemed oblivious to my presence and, as I got within half a dozen meters of the opening, I paused.

"Stop", I commanded.

The soldier didn't respond.

Grabbing a chunk of broken concrete from the ground, I hurled it at the soldier. It hit them in the side of the head with a deep thud.

That got them to stop.

"Wh- what?!" they barked, head snapping to me. It was a man, older by the sounds of it.

They sounded angry. And confused. That kind of injury, they were probably in shock.

Now I have a prisoner, someone I can interrogate, but what do I ask? Do I have time to ask anything? Yes, the Institute baited a trap for me, but they could still be hanging around to see what happens.

"Why did your people retreat?"

His helmet cocked at me.

"What?" The soldier sounded more confused than angry now.

"The other Vertibirds pulled out. Why?"

"Uh… well… they're heading back to Cambridge I think."

Cambridge? That's on the other side of the city, why would they be retreating there?

"Why?"

"Because the Institute is attacking." The way he said it, it's like he thought that was the most obvious thing on the planet. It isn't like I have access to their comms traffic anymore.

The Institute hit Cambridge.

Wow.

This wasn't a trap for me, I was the bait. This is a trap for the Brotherhood. They just needed me to give them something to chase, if only for a little while, as they staged an attack on the small town.

Whoever set this up, I have to give them credit. That's a very good plan. They make sure I'm out of the way and remove a few high value pieces from the Brotherhood's board before the start of the attack. They took advantage of the threat I pose and the Brotherhood command's tendency toward aggression.

That doesn't mean they aren't still in the area. It only takes a few Coursers to keep tabs on me while they assault Cambridge.

And I'd like more answers.

The problem is my 'interviewee' is trapped in the Vertibird. It looked like the bulkhead buckled inward as the nose of the VTOL folded in on itself. The soldier's leg was mangled enough the bone is probably powder, but the frame of the power armor is still in one piece. I could probably pry the crushed bulkhead out of the way given enough time…

Is this worth the risk?

He might have intel on why the Brotherhood is dedicating resources elsewhere. He might know something about Haylen.

Dammit.

I collected a dozen or so pieces of debris I could use as levers. Everything from rebar to parts broken off of the Vertibird.

"Make any sudden moves", I said as I ducked into the mangled aircraft, "you lose your head."

After getting a nod of understanding, I began jamming my makeshift pry bars under the bulkhead, a few of them between the soldier's ruined leg and the steel.

The first two lengths of rebar bent uselessly, but the third piece, what looked like part of a rotor, held up. The crumpled bulkhead groaned as it bent away from the soldier's leg a few centimeters. That's as far as I was able to get before the rotor snapped.

It took the better part of five minutes, and another trip to collect 'tools', but I bent the warped metal far enough the soldier was able to pull himself free.

The instant he moved though, he let out a strangled shout. The shock and adrenaline must have worn off.

My internal clock was screaming at me; there was a (relatively) massive battle going on north of the city, the Institute played both me and the Brotherhood, and they may still have eyes in the area. I need to get moving and I don't have time to wait for this asshole to pull himself out of the wreckage.

Grabbing the large handle on the front of his armor, I dragged the man out of the Vertibird and toward a building on the north side of the street. He screamed the entire way.

It wasn't a concern; his screaming wouldn't attract any more attention than the gunfight and crash had.

Once we were in the mostly intact three story building, and I checked to make sure it was clear, I returned to the injured soldier.

He had propped himself against a wall and was staring at his leg. Even with the armor to support it, his broken femur and destroyed knee were clear as day. His thigh was twisted with an extra join a few centimeters below the hip, and his knee was turned in the wrong direction. He's lucky, a femur break like that could easily sever the femoral artery. Given how long he survived, and the fact he's still conscious, that probably hadn't happened.

What to ask first? Troop movements? No… if it comes down to it, I can figure that out on my own.

Haylen.

"What do you know about Scribe Haylen?"

The soldier's head snapped up to me. "Scribe Haylen?" I nodded. "She…" He trailed off.

"Why do you want to know?" the man asked. His voice was still stricken with pain, but there was anger in it now.

I almost asked if they bought I'd tortured her. Maybe I could have, but it might be a better idea to keep things under wraps unless absolutely necessary. It's possible he still has some way of communicating with his leadership.

"Your people went to Sanctuary to recover her. I want to know where she was taken."

He didn't reply immediately. The armored man instead stared at me and, even though I couldn't see his face, it wasn't hard to imagine the furious stare.

"You tortured her", he said. "You forced her to tell you about Danse."

While encouraging, that doesn't mean the Brotherhood leadership has bought it. Groups like the Brotherhood mislead their members as much as everyone else. The best way to keep people in line is to tell them what they want to hear. Usually that means lying to them. It would be easier for their soldiers to hear Haylen had been captured and tortured than the truth, which was she ran after finding out about who the Brotherhood really is.

"You're aware Danse is a Synth?" I asked.

The soldier nodded curtly. "A Synth sent to infiltrate our ranks, to spy on or even destroy us. It's why Elder Maxson wishes to rid the world of them. Humanity can't coexist with them, especially when they can be anyone, anywhere… Even Danse…"

All of that felt like regurgitated propaganda. It was pretty obvious their leadership fed them those lines. Hell, they managed to turn this situation into something they could use to further reinforce their dogma. Not surprising, I've seen it before.

There was something else there though, in the way he said "Even Danse." It was the same way Haylen had talked about the former Paladin.

"You knew Danse?"

After another short pause, the Brotherhood soldier nodded slowly. "I did. He trained me back in the Capital Wasteland when I joined."

Danse trained this guy? Danse couldn't have been more than mid-30s. The man in front of me sounded a lot older than that.

"You're older than Danse. You joined late?"

There was another hesitation before the man answered. "Why does that matter?"

It was my turn to take a moment to think. Why did it matter?

The night outside was still quiet. I did a quick scan of the debris strewn interior of the large room before returning my gaze to my captive.

Why does it matter when he joined? That he joined late?

Why did he join?

"Why did you join?" I asked.

"I-" he started before a groan cut whatever he was going to say off. He grabbed for his ruined leg and, after a few moments, let out a pained breath. Even with the helmet on, I could hear it force its way through his clenched jaw.

"I joined to protect my family", he ground out eventually. "Why else would I join?"

He joined to protect his family… That's a good start.

"Protect them from what?"

"From things like you", he spat, voice angry once again.

"Things?" I cocked my head at him. "I'm not here to hurt your family."

The soldier shook his head. "No, but you're here to fight the Brotherhood. We protect people from the dangers of the wastes. Keep dangerous technology away from people that would hurt others."

More dogma. What had Deacon said about the Brotherhood in the Capital Wasteland? They'd wiped out the Supermutant population, which I'm fine with. They'd also eliminated Ghouls. Ferals weren't much different from the aggressive animals around Boston, but the regular ones… I haven't met too many, they seem like regular people to me.

"From what I know, the Brotherhood's done more than that in the Capital Wasteland. Anything that isn't 'human' gets eliminated."

Another pause. This is starting to make sense; the soldier had joined the Brotherhood because he thought it was the best way to protect the people he cares about. It doesn't sound like he's bought into how the Brotherhood does that, at least not completely. The way he regurgitates what his command and, probably, fellow soldiers say seems like he's trying to convince himself of it.

Had Haylen been right? Are these people, at least some of them, just trapped by a group that gives them something to rally behind even if it's founded on, like Deacon said, fear?

"There are some things we do I don't agree with, but the Capital Wastes are safer today because of the Brotherhood's efforts."

While I'm sure that's true, the question is safer for who? Safer for the people who follow along? I've had enough experience being the one to make sure dissidents can't expand to know it isn't safe for them. Granted, most of the dissidents I went after were much more actively harmful to humanity at large.

Most of them…

From the sounds of it, the Brotherhood goes after anyone who they don't like.

"Do you agree Danse is a danger to the Brotherhood?"

"Yes", the soldier replied without hesitation, almost as though the response was automatic.

"Even given what he's done for it?"

"He's a Synth."

I cocked my head. That's one way to make people think: give them an enemy, convince them that enemy is inherently evil. If you do that, you'll never have to worry about justifying what you do to that enemy. You get to put anyone you disagree with under that banner too.

"He is, and he's still done more for the Brotherhood than almost anyone else", I said.

The soldier didn't respond, only stared at me from his spot sitting against the wall.

This 'interrogation' had turned into more of a conversation and, with what's probably happening at Cambridge, I don't have time to continue it. Then there's the possibility of Institute forces remaining in the area.

What do I do with this guy though? Normally the answer would be to kill him. If he's telling the truth, this is probably one of those people Haylen was talking about. He disagrees with the direction the Brotherhood is going, but goes along because he doesn't have another choice. If we're going all in with this insane plan of trying to spread disillusion in their ranks, would leaving him alive be a good idea? He doesn't know anything that could compromise me, doesn't know Haylen cooperated with me. At the end of the day, he's only one more Brotherhood soldier, one that won't be combat effective anymore unless they have much better prosthetic technology than I've seen.

Now leaving enemy combatants alive is a regular occurrence?

If it serves a purpose, yes.

"Do you have comms?"

The soldier cocked his head at me. "What?"

"Is that suit equipped with a radio?"

"Yes", he said after a slight hesitation.

"Good. Once I'm gone, radio for pickup."

There was a note of disbelief in the silence that followed.

"You're leaving me alive?"

"Yes", I nodded.

"Why?"

"There's no point in killing you." I scanned the room again. "I'd do it soon, there are probably Institute forces in the area."

With that, I turned and marched out of the building back into the early morning. The sun would be up in a few hours. Whatever fighting there was going on in Cambridge would be done by then. Hell, it would probably be done before I got there. It's possible the Institute takes the town, but I doubt it, even with a half dozen of the Brotherhood's Vertibirds distracted. It's the second most heavily defended base they have and, if it was in danger, the Brotherhood would scramble as many resources as needed to keep it safe. If the Institute did take it, they'd cripple their own fighting force. At that point, if the Brotherhood has a way to get into the Institute, this war would be over.

Even if I won't be there for the fighting, I can study the aftermath. I don't want to go there unprepared though. My eyes drifted to the wrecked Vertibird. They'll have some ordinance in there, right?

Between the three dead soldiers and, from the looks of the uniform, one dead crew member whose head had been smashed open by a bulkhead, I found two hand grenades. There was a munitions box as well, but it hadn't been secured properly and broke free in the crash. Its contents were destroyed beyond use. That's something else they need to learn; a crewmember that had been thrown hard enough in the impact, their head turned into a modern art piece on the wall of the Vertibird, and an unsecured crate. A crew chief would have had someone's ass if they saw that.

It would have to do, I don't have time to detour to any of my supply dumps. The fighting started around five minutes ago, the journey will take another two hours. I need to get moving.

X

My estimate was a little off. By the time I had the prefab walls of Cambridge in sight, almost two and a half hours had passed. That was mostly because I had to backtrack to the west side of the city when I ran across a large group of Supermutants. As much as I wanted to attack them, I didn't have the time or the ammunition to do it. The sky was beginning to brighten from black to a deep blue. The sun would be up in about 40 minutes.

The Brotherhood soldier had been telling the truth.

There were plenty of new laser scoring marks around the small town's perimeter and, from a quick count, I saw at least 50 bodies outside the wall. Most of them had been hit in the no man's land they'd cleared around the base. The roads even had some new craters in them. Most looked like they were formed by smaller munitions like grenades. A few were larger and directional, probably rocket impacts.

Despite everything, the town was still in Brotherhood control. Power armored soldiers were pacing the battlements and four Vertibirds flying patrols overhead. Two of the VTOLs were on the ground, smoking and destroyed. It was impossible for me to tell what brought the first one down; the wreck was about 200 meters north of Cambridge. It had come to rest after plowing a 50 meter furrow through the dirt and rocks. The second one had pancaked to the ground, narrowly avoiding a mostly collapsed five story building just west of their perimeter. The front of the aircraft looked like it had melted. Concentrated laser fire? What the hell does the Institute have that could do something like that?

Whatever hit that was something I didn't want to get caught by.

There were a few dozen people around that crash, most in T-60. Those that weren't were stripping the thing for parts.

More than anything, I wanted to get inside the town and see what kind of damage the Institute had managed to do in there. They love their tactic of dropping directly into the opposition's position, especially when they lead it off with explosives. I have to admit, it's an extremely powerful tool, especially when it can happen at any time. My question is have the Brotherhood figured out how to jam it yet? For such an advanced technology, to be susceptible to something as simple as a radio jammer… it seems like that shouldn't be as easy as it is.

That brought me to another question. Studying the bodies of dead Synths strewn around the perimeter, and the few dozen I found in the woods and buildings beyond, it looked like the Institute had gotten its ass handed to it. Yes, they dropped two Vertibirds and I don't know what casualties they inflicted on the infantry, but almost 100 lost units, to not take the town or do any appreciable damage to its fortifications was a waste.

Unless, of course, there was an objective I didn't see. And then there's the fact the Institute doesn't care about how many Synths it loses since it can always make more.

As the sky began turning a dull pink to the east, I more carefully examined the town. Was the Brotherhood acting strange? Their patrols were heavy, and most of them concentrated around Cambridge. The Vertibirds were flying in pairs over the town and staying within a few hundred meters of it at any given time. It was normal tactics when a fortified position is expecting an attack to consolidate forces. Hell, even those Raiders at the base to the north had gotten that right when I freed Danse. Eventually.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Had the Institute made a mistake?

My eyes drifted back to the scattered, dead Synths in the streets and fields around Cambridge.

There's no way they organized something like this, two different decoys and using me as a lure to fail like this.

What's your play, Nate?

And something else struck me as odd: the Institute had to have been waiting for me to make a move like Quincy. Their timing was too convenient to be coincidental, which means they knew I was involved. If they knew I was involved, it's unlikely they missed the Railroad's involvement.

As far as I know, they didn't hit the Railroad's headquarters.

Of course, it's possible Glory's team had managed to slip anyone tracking them.

My hand went to my satchel where the radio was sitting.

Contacting them would be a good idea. If something has happened, I need to find out.

Doing it here would be a bad idea. I don't know if the Brotherhood has triangulation equipment in the area, but with how keyed up they are right now, I don't want to find out.

While I slipped away from Cambridge heading north into the forest, my mind raced. What was their objective? Why such an elaborate plan? Why so many moving parts? Why use me as a trigger?

By the time I'd gone half a dozen kilometers, the sun was above the horizon and beginning its daily climb into a cloudy sky.

That would be far enough for now.

I pulled the radio from my satchel and pressed the transmit button.

As I opened my mouth to talk, I froze. I was about to call for Glory, but on the off chance the Institute didn't know about their involvement, I don't want to confirm it.

They probably know.

Better safe than sorry.

"MacCready, what's your status?"

Nothing. The silence didn't mean anything, unfortunately.

"MacCready", I repeated, "what's your status?"

Still nothing.

My eyes were scanning the forest around me, watching for any potential contacts. My small rock outcropping wasn't ideal cover, but it had good sightlines down the hill I was taking cover on.

"I hear you Damon", the response came. It was the former mercenary. I breathed a sigh of relief. "We're good. Last night got hairy, we were being chased by some Synths and what Glory called a Courser. Lost them a few hours ago."

They lost a Courser? Killing the bastards is one thing, but if I can say anything for the specialized Synths, it's they're attentive and persistent. Losing one that's tracking you wouldn't be easy.

Maybe I'm not giving these people the credit they deserve. Between the cluster that was last night and getting away from a squad tracking them in the middle of that chaos, they did well.

Very well.

But that also means the Institute knows they're involved. If they hadn't before, that is. I can deal with the implications of that later. Maybe Deacon can shed some light on what the Institute may have been trying to accomplish with their little stunt last night.

"We need to regroup."

"That's probably a good idea, we aren't going back to the bunker."

And I can't go back to Sanctuary… Where else can we meet? Somewhere secure that I don't have to name. I'm not going to take any chances that someone might be listening in on our conversation.

"Damon", a voice came over the radio. It was Deacon now. "We can meet where you first met Preston."

I blinked. They'd been thinking the same thing? That's good.

How the hell did Deacon know about Concord? The museum?

He was in Sanctuary for a few days while I was gone. He wouldn't be a very good intel officer if he didn't figure out everything he could about me.

It's also possible he found out another way. The Railroad agent always seemed to know more than he should.

Concord wasn't far from me. I was northwest of Cambridge, I just need to head directly east a half dozen kilometers and I'd be there.

"Affirmative. I'll be there in an hour."

That would give me enough time to take it slow and make sure I'm not followed. As far as I know we aren't on a clock, an extra half hour to scout the town won't hurt anyone.

Well, anyone I don't want to be hurt.

And I don't know where they are, it might take them longer than that to-

"That works for us, we'll meet you there", the Railroad agent responded.

Alright then, it was time to move.

Almost as soon as I began east, I was attacked.

At the base of the hill, while I was crossing a small ravine that looked like it had, at one point, been a narrow river, rustling beneath an undergrowth ahead of me caught my attention.

From it burst a trio of wild dogs, snarling and barking as they charged toward me. Because that's what I need when I'm trying to get through the forest unnoticed.

Guns were out considering the circumstances. I pulled my knife from its sheath as the first dog lunged at me. Once it was clear, I swung my left fist and it crashed into the side of the animal's head with a dull thud. The blow hadn't been hard enough to kill it, but the dog spun away from me, yelping.

The other two weren't as aggressive as the first. Whether that's because they just saw it get hammered or they're a little better at planning, I don't know. Whatever the case, I don't have the patience to entertain whatever game they're playing.

Lunging forward, I slashed my knife toward the dog on the right as it tried to circle around me. It wasn't fast enough to avoid the blade as I drove it into the side of its neck. It went limp almost immediately and blood began seeping around the blade.

With both of its friends out of commission, the last dog seemed to figure out this fight was a losing battle. It turned and sprinted away through the forest. That's the first time I've seen that happen. Chasing the animal down would have been a waste of time. Not like that dog is going to report my position to the Institute or Brotherhood.

After taking a moment to finish the first one, still down and writhing, I resumed my journey toward Concord.

I maintained a faster-than-normal pace. It was just fast enough anyone following me would have a very hard time keeping up without making sound. It had the added benefit of coving ground faster, which gave me more time to check my rear.

There were a half dozen times I had to cross roads, which was irritating. I spent almost a minute at each, double and triple checking every position I could. Both the Institute and Brotherhood have been after me in the last 5 hours and Shaun has decided now is a good time to go active. It's the first large scale operation they've engaged in since the hospital. It was going to happen eventually, it's just aggravating they were waiting on me to trigger their action.

They were using me.

Concord came into sight a little over 20 minutes after I started east. It didn't look any different than the last time I laid eyes on it. The buildings were still crumbling, the streets were cracked, and the whole town looked like it was a strong wind away from being erased.

Goddamn… that felt like another lifetime.

The forest had been thinning for the last klick and by the time I was within a few hundred meters of the town, it was field.

When I was here the last time, that large field and waste high brown grass was an obstacle. It meant I had to cross a massive killing field in an unknown environment with no intel. Now, potentially being tracked by cloaked Coursers, that grass would be invaluable. You might be able to bend light, but you can't pass through matter.

The overcast sky continued brightening to an orangish hue. I started across the field, head on a swivel for potential threats. There wasn't time or reason to bother with anything fancy, I crossed to the town at a run.

Problem is, anyone tailing me doesn't have to follow. All they need to know is that I'm in Concord. If they're able to follow the other team, it won't matter anyway.

Even if my jammer hadn't been destroyed by spending half an hour in that river, its battery was long used up. That means if the Institute did track us here, they'll be able to teleport in wherever they want.

Nearing the town, I ran the layout through my head. Or what I remembered of it. That was a while ago and I'd probably been dealing with a severe concussion at the time. The museum, at the center of town, was a large, sturdy structure that, despite its ruined interior, had held up well. The auxiliary entrances would still be sealed unless someone broke the handles off.

Once I passed the first row of ruined buildings, I slowed and slipped into the long shadows cast by them. There were about 35 minutes until I said I'd meet the others. That time would be crucial to scouting.

The town was too large to do it thoroughly before the time was up, but I don't need to. What I need to do is make sure the area around the museum is clear and safe.

Keeping as quiet as I could, careful to avoid the debris, gravel, and shards of glass scattered across the street, I made my way toward my objective. It was odd being back here after all this time. The funny part is it wasn't that long ago, just a few months. It feels like a different lifetime. Like that was a different person.

Maybe it was.

Would the person I'd been when I woke up have done everything I had over the past few weeks? Thrown away my chance of getting back to UNSC space. Instead, helping a group of strangers establish a home and fight a war I have no stake in?

No, he wouldn't have. Pride flickered through my chest for an instant before I squelched it. I did the right thing- made the right choice, but right now I need to focus on the task at hand. I need to make sure that choice wasn't for nothing. That starts by making sure the Institute isn't able to take advantage of this rendezvous.

Concord was just as dilapidated as I remember seeing it my first day in this destroyed facsimile of Earth. Most of the buildings were falling apart if they hadn't already collapsed into nothing. None of them had all their walls and roof intact. What paint was left had faded into gray or brown, and the streets were more crack than pavement.

When I reached the main street leading toward my objective, I half expected to see the mangled remains of the first victims of my presence here. I should have known better. There were a few very faded stains on the street where I'd landed in the group of Raiders, but the bodies were gone. They were most likely picked off by scavengers, like those dogs I'd run into in the forest.

Either way, it didn't matter. I need to focus on my current objective: scouting the area.

After 25 minutes of slipping in and out of houses, through alleys, and checking every space I could find, nothing except for a duo of feral ghouls, which I dealt with quietly, and a few animals were around.

It was a bit odd a place like this wouldn't be settled, but it didn't take a genius to figure out why. The town was large, even larger than Cambridge. Any settlement established here would have to have around the same population as Diamond City. Why do that if Diamond City and Goodneighbor already exist? If they're already secure?

Five minutes later, my radio squawked.

"Damon", Glory said, "we're nearing the rendezvous."

"Copy, I'll be waiting inside."

As I headed toward the museum, my mind turned back to the questions I'd been considering the entire morning. Most of it was focused around who the hell would come up with a plan this elaborate, and what their objective might have been. There are plenty of intelligent people in the Institute. Any number of them could think of something like this, but the logistics and tactics to put it in play… That takes experience. It has to be Nate, doesn't it?

With one more check around the main street, I climbed the stairs into the museum. The brownish patch where I'd smashed a Raider's head into the wall was still there, along with the hole another had blown into the side of the building.

I climbed through the crumbling interior onto the roof where the crashed Vertibird still lay to cover their approach. Crawling forward until I had a clear sightline, I positioned myself beneath the VTOL so I could move out to assist quickly if needed.

It wasn't more than a few minutes later when the quartet emerged onto the main street. As they weaved around rusted out cars, half collapsed buildings, and piles of debris, I pulled my radio back out.

"I have eyes on you, the area looks clear."

The four of them hurried forward and, once they were at the entrance, I slipped back off of the roof and headed down to meet them.

"Holy shit", Glory said, sitting down on the large flight of stairs in the middle of the museum's main floor. "Do you have any idea what happened last night?"

Glancing around at the others, they all looked tired and haggard. Glory was rubbing her face, MacCready and the other Railroad soldier both had bags under their eyes. Even Deacon was slumped, shoulders sagging.

"As far as I can tell, the Institute has been waiting for a major action. They used our assault as a trigger, lured the Brotherhood into attacking me and then hit Cambridge while their air support was distracted. It's possible they also tried to take advantage of the opportunity presented to capture one of you."

That got a smile out of Deacon. "Possible? I think that one goes past possible, Damon."

"Maybe", I said with a shrug. "It appears their main objective had something to do with the Brotherhood."

MacCready squinted. "It doesn't sound like you know what that might be. Why are you so sure their main objective was the Brotherhood?"

It was a valid question: there were so many moving parts to that plan, it isn't beyond reason to think there may have been something I missed. Maybe they were trying to accomplish multiple objectives. There is one thing I know for sure: they lost a significant portion of their fighting force to attack Cambridge and I don't think they're dumb enough to do that for no reason.

"They committed a large force to attack it. I don't know the size, but they lost a lot of Synths. The Brotherhood still has control of Cambridge." I looked at the three Railroad members. "Why would they do that?"

They exchanged glances.

"I…" Glory started before trailing off. "That's a good question."

"What happened to you?" Deacon asked. "You were out of contact for almost six hours."

"Institute chased me to the south edge of the city, baited the Brotherhood into sending a flight of Vertibirds after me. They used me as a distraction." I couldn't keep all of the bitterness out of my voice. They played me. They were willing to lose those units if it meant they could determine I was in the area.

The Railroad agent cocked an eyebrow. "Huh. There's no way they go through that much trouble to not accomplish their objective. A lot of things could have gone wrong."

No… they knew what I'd do, they knew I'd be looking for an opportunity to retaliate. They were taking a risk, yes, but that risk was a bet that I'd be trying to take attention away from this group, and I'd want to send a message.

Their plan had Nate's name written all over it.

If I can't admit when I screw up, I'm no use to these people.

"They only needed one thing to go right: me. It isn't a huge gamble if you know what the other person is going to do."

"You're saying the Institute knew they'd be able to use you as a distraction?" Deacon asked.

I nodded. "They took advantage of my normal response to combat situations. Instead of engaging me directly, they used it to draw the Brotherhood in and keep them occupied for a few minutes."

"Well", Glory said, "they didn't figure out how to make Synths by being dumb." She stood. "We're safe, for now. We need to figure out our next move; protocol dictates we can't return to base for the next four days. Dez will know what's going on once the QRF team reports in."

"Sleep", MacCready replied and all eyes turned to him. "We're all exhausted. It's been a very long 24 hours and we'll all be thinking more clearly after some sleep."

The other Railroad member let out a ragged breath. "Thank you. I didn't want to be the one to say it."

They weren't the only ones who needed sleep. I could feel the edges of my perception dimming, my limbs slow to respond to my commands. Maybe I shouldn't take the periods where I do get regular sleep for granted…

"I'll take first watch", I said.

Deacon nodded. "I'll join you." He turned to the others. "We'll wake you in four hours."

As I was about to shake my head, I stopped myself. If he wants to stay up, that's his decision.

"Fine by me", Glory said, "shout if anything starts shooting at us."

You'll probably hear the gunshots first.

A/N: Like I said, creative opportunities. If it wasn't clear, how the Institute took advantage of Damon in this chapter was my way of poking fun at how a lot of these MCs are written. Usually, the MCs have one way of responding to a problem and that shit just works because they're better than everyone else (hello Terminal List). That's boring. So what do the other people do? Well they take advantage of that tendency. Damon even recognizes that himself here. But I'm not gonna ramble again. I hope you all enjoyed and I'll see you next week!

Next chapter: 9/16, A Friendly Warning