A/N: Well hello there. I'm sure the more eagle eyed those of you noticed this chapter is a few days late. There's a reason for that I will discuss in the second author's not but, for now, the chapter! I went back and forth with this one a lot, but something I've been trying to do is change Damon's perspective and make it seem fluid and real. I don't like it when stories feel like they flipped a switch and the protag is suddenly all buddy-buddy. That isn't how this wokrs, especially with someone like Damon (or a lot of the MCs out there). On the other side of things, the same can be said for the other characters. Damon's an asshole. It wouldn't be easy to like someone like him when you first meet him. He isn't the only one involved in these relationships and that's something I think a lot of stories miss. Anyway, now that you know where I'm coming from with this, I'll leave you to the chapter. Leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!

Chapter 54: A Friendly Warning

Deacon was standing beside me near the top of the museum's main stairs. With as many approaches as there are to the large building, I'm not sure how much coverage I'll be able to give it. Unlike the first time around, I don't have a defined target, nor do I have a good idea where they may be coming from. On top of that, with the Institute coming after us, it's always possible they teleport forces inside the museum. Two things were working in our favor here: the first is unless we were tracked, no one knows we're in Concord, and if someone does, they'll have to search the relatively large town to find us.

After confirming the auxiliary entrances were still locked, II collected the grenades the team still had left over. Between those and the ones I took from the Vertibird, I had six total. I ripped a few meters of still surviving electrical wires from the walls to use as rigging.

At each door, I wedge one of the grenades into whatever gap I could make work- a hole in the floorboards, damaged walls, whatever- and looped the makeshift tripwire through the pin. I secured the opposite end to the door and pulled it taut. The trap wouldn't kill someone in power armor, but at the very least it would give us a warning. Not perfect, but considering my resources, I'd rather stay close to the others in case something does happen.

The Railroad agent cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I ask a few questions?"

Why do people always ask if they can ask questions? They're going to do it anyway. I motioned for him to continue.

He met my gaze, face neutral. "Did you have anything to do with last night?"

That wasn't the question I expected. Did I have anything to do with last night? "The Institute?" He nodded and my eyes narrowed. "No. Why would I have been working with the Institutet?"

"I'm covering my bases. With them, I've learned to expect anything."

"It would be a lot of unneeded effort to set you up."

Deacon frowned but nodded again. "Fair enough. How did the Institute use you to lure the Brotherhood away from Cambridge?"

My head panged with irritation. "Waited for me to attack one of the teams they had looking for me. Used a series of teleport signals to draw the Brotherhood in. I did the rest for them."

"You don't sound too happy about that."

I huffed. "I'm not. I don't like being played."

The agent smiled. "No one does." His expression drifted back to neutral. "So they waited for something big to happen, something they knew the Brotherhood would react to, and used you as a decoy." Deacon scratched the back of his head. "Then attacks Cambridge without, apparently, accomplishing anything."

His voice said he was thinking the same thing I am: it's a lot of effort to go through for no payoff. They waited for a very specific set of circumstances and put a lot of pieces in motion. For them to not do anything with it seems absurd.

Unless… "It's possible that was a distraction too."

The Railroad agent glanced up at me, eyebrow cocked. "That seems reasonable. If they had two different decoys, one to make you think they were there for you or us, and used that to make you bait yourself, a third isn't out of the question. Maybe they thought they'd get lucky and the Brotherhood would take you out along the way."

Not something I'd put past them. At least six Vertibirds… if I hadn't been in the city, or didn't have the McMillan, there's a good chance they could have succeeded.

"True", I said, nodding.

"So our two possibilities are, one, they tried, and failed, to take Cambridge, and two, it was another distraction. With the added on 'kill Damon' side mission." Deacon groaned as he sat on the top step. "What would a distraction that large be for? Something to do with the airport maybe?"

The airport? I doubt it. Maxson might be crazy but he isn't stupid. He wouldn't compromise his position there no matter how much danger Cambridge was in. They wouldn't have been as organized cleaning up what happened last night if there was another action taking place. If the Institute had assaulted another position, I doubt there would have been four Vertibirds flying patrols over the town at the time.

"No", I replied, "if they did anything else, it was covert."

"Setting off a bomb to hide a knife in the back…"

Odd analogy but it works. "Essentially."

Deacon grunted. "What's bothering me is the Institute letting us go so easily. We've been a thorn in their side for a long time now. They've almost wiped us out twice before, but they've never managed to root out the internal group working with us. And you", he glanced up at me again, "isn't it strange they used you as bait and then didn't bother going any further? If they wanted to kill you, wouldn't they have kept attacking while you were busy with the Vertibirds?"

Yes. It was something I'd considered during my 'interview' with the Brotherhood soldier who survived the crash. If I were them and my goal was to kill me, I wouldn't leave eliminating a high-value target to anyone else. Once the Brotherhood engaged, I would have dropped every asset that wasn't assaulting Cambridge I had on my head.

Huh… they'd demonstrated sound strategies and tactics, even some inventive ones, Nate's experience coming into play no doubt. Why would they abandon that all of a sudden?

Caution? Maybe they weren't certain they could accomplish all of their objectives at once so they concentrated on Cambridge.

Or they're being patient, waiting for a better opportunity to find the Railroad and eliminate them too. If I had a difficult target to track down, and wanted to give myself the best opportunity possible, I'd be patient, wait, and watch. What if finding the Railroad team at Quincy caught them off guard?

"Their priorities may have shifted mid-mission. Maybe they didn't know I was working with you. If their objective was to track down your leadership, they would have had to change their plans on the fly."

"Which means we aren't out of the woods yet."

I nodded. "If they didn't manage to track us here, they're probably still out looking."

A smile quirked the edges of his mouth. "Do you think you were followed?"

How fast I was moving? It would have been very difficult for anything short of an organized and well-coordinated observation team to follow me undetected.

"No."

"You think we were?"

"I don't know."

Deacon shrugged. "Fair enough." His eyes roamed the large, crumbling main room of the museum. "What do you think the best play is then? I'm of the mind we stay here a few days and wait. There's no telling where a team of Coursers may be hiding. We could risk being discovered if we left without knowing where they are."

"Agreed." Finding them would be difficult in a town this large. It wasn't like the night before, searching out the Institute's teams in Boston. That was a small area I knew Institute forces were occupying. Concord isn't massive, but it's large enough to make hiding a force easy. There's been enough recent traffic to disguise the movements of any recon teams.

Even so, if we're going to remain here a few days I have to try.

"I'll start scouting the city tonight."

"Sounds good to me", the other man said, nodding. It sounded like he was fighting back a yawn. A fight he was losing.

"Get some sleep."

He shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine for a few hours. Still need time to think and you're good for bouncing ideas off of." He smiled at me. "Glory prefers shooting things."

So do I. I grunted.

Though I'm confident I remember the building's layout from the last time I was here, I still wanted to take one more look around the building.

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

Deacon's only reply was a nod.

The steps groaned under me as I descended to the ground floor.

It feels like a long time since I was here. So much had happened in the few intervening months. At the time, I didn't know how long I'd be stuck in this reality. I guess that answer will probably be 'the rest of my life'. Even so… things have changed- I've changed more than I would have thought possible since those first two days.

I stalked through the ground floor of the museum, even checking the basement with a still-running generator. All of it looked exactly as it had the day I met Preston, Alexandra, and the original group I brought to Sanctuary. The wooden walls were splintered and full of holes so large I could almost squeeze myself through without making them any larger. Display cases and exhibits were shattered and in the advanced stages of decay. A few rooms had collapsed in on themselves over the 200-plus years since it had its last patrons.

Everything looked the same, but it all felt different.

Maybe that's a good thing. I can't say I regret my decision. Hell, if I'd stayed with the Institute, yes the Railroad would be gone and the Minutemen wouldn't be reforming, but this war would probably be going very differently. The Institute, even with only Nate's combat experience, had already hurt the Brotherhood. If I was there to help, I'm not going to say it would already be over, but it would probably be close. That means, if it's possible, I'd be close to heading back to UNSC space.

Walking past the first of the trapped doors, I checked to make sure the wire was still tight.

That isn't going to happen now, and who knows how long this war will last? But at least I did the right thing. At least I did it because I wanted to, not because I was ordered to.

The funny part is that decision has led me to help other people I've somehow come to care about. People who care about me.

Nights with Fourier, Amanda, and Liam, training, eating, talking flashed through my mind. Even though I was never receptive, none of them showed signs of stopping. None of them seemed irritated with my lack of engagement.

Liam and Amanda started this game during training, word association while doing pretty much anything. They made me do it during sparring, shooting courses, hell even when we were working out. I did my best to avoid it, but every so often they'd trap me. If I lost, I'd have to answer a question, if they lost, I didn't have to play it for the rest of that day.

Whenever I did lose, I expected the questions to be about my time operating alone, or about my family. I should have known better. They all knew my past. Like Fourier said: it was one of the conditions for taking me on.

Instead, they'd ask me questions about survival training; where I'd been and what I'd seen. They'd ask me about specific locations, the wildlife there. While all three of them had been around, humanity had been on hundreds of planets. With the number of different biospheres in the area it had expanded, someone could go a lifetime without seeing them all. Once, one of the few times I found myself interested, I'd talked with Liam for the better part of an hour about one of his earlier missions. Before he joined SPARTAN OPs. Like Fourier, he'd been ODST.

His platoon had deployed to a colony world late in the war. It was just before the Covenant attacked Reach, back when the UNSC was still convinced they'd protected the planet from being discovered. They spent a week with nothing to do but sit around, walk the occasional patrol, and enjoy the wildlife.

There was nothing extraordinary about it, but something about a simple escape from the war that had been raging for almost three decades was… relieving. Even then. Beautiful clear skies, no Covenant to fight. Massive, clean oceans. Large swaths of land with rolling hills and broad mountain ranges.

The way Liam had spoken about it, the man sounded like he regretted leaving.

Now that I think about it, they were doing their best to get to know me as Damon, not SPARTAN-G052. Six months they played that game. The only reason it stopped-

Well, they didn't. I got dropped here.

Despite my resistance, the three of them cared. Maybe that's something I should have paid more attention to.

When I returned to the staircase, Deacon was still sitting at the top, eating some sort of meal bar. He didn't talk as I paced the ground floor below him. There wasn't anything that needed saying. We were in trouble and this idea to attack Quincy is what kicked it off. Now I- we need to figure a way to get out of it.

If the Institute is still trying to track us, that will be a challenge, especially if they managed to follow them here. While it isn't impossible the Institute was organized enough to shadow me across almost 30 klicks between Quincy and here, it's unlikely.

That means I need to come up with a plan for scouting the town tonight. Going out there without one is just going to waste time or get me found. The first thing that should happen is move to a more defensible position. With a group this size, I'm sure there are plenty of smaller buildings we could use with fewer sightlines and points of egress.

"Hey Damon", Deacon called from his spot perched at the top of the stairs. I looked up at him and the agent was wearing a thoughtful frown. "What do you think about finding somewhere a little smaller?"

So he was thinking the same thing. No surprise there.

"No argument."

A small smile flashed across his face. "Don't have any nostalgia for this place?"

I shook my head. "It was a pain in my ass."

"Right", he said, laughing. "I'll make sure we're ready. Not like we have much to pack."

True enough. Now all I have to do for the next few hours before I can get some shut-eye is plan tonight's festivities.

Well… hopefully, there are no festivities. We aren't far enough from Cambridge to avoid notice if I start shooting at Institute forces.

There's always the quiet option.

There's always the quiet option…

Eventually, after four hours of pacing the museum with the occasional check from the various windows in the large building or the roof, the others roused themselves. While I was still operationally effective, there's no way of knowing what would happen over the next few days, or when I'd get my next chance to sleep. If the Institute is still after us, I might be fighting for a while.

While shut-eye sounded good, I didn't go far. I found a spot in a room just off the staircase and settled against the wall. Before I fell asleep, I checked the ammo count in both guns. I had three magazines left for the MK18 and four for the McMillan. Not enough to get involved in a prolonged engagement. If that happens, I'll be taking weapons from my targets.

Once that was done, I leaned my head back against the ruined wood and let my eyes drift closed.

It felt like I blinked before footsteps began approaching me.

The clock in my HUD read 1130. Just under four hours.

Damn.

I looked up to see Glory stalking through the door into the small room I'd chosen.

She didn't look happy.

"Yes?" I asked and the white-haired woman stopped just inside.

"I just got a call from Dez. Sounds like they might have found your mole."

Mole? The Brotherhood plant.

"How?"

"Didn't get much detail. Not sure why she bothered telling us that…"

It's a good question. Why would she say anything at all? "The Institute can't triangulate your radio signals?"

Glory shook her head. "They go out from two separate repeater stations about a mile north of the bunker. With the overlapping signals, it's harder to trace and it wouldn't get traced back to the bunker."

Not bad.

Standing, I nodded. If I had to guess, she told us that because it means we can go back to Sanctuary if shit really hits the fan. Without the Brotherhood's eyes on the ground there, my presence wouldn't be putting them at risk.

Or at least any more risk than they already are.

"It's a fallback plan if something goes wrong here. We can make a decision on that tonight after I scout Concord."

"We're moving too?"

I nodded again. "Museum's too large. Deacon and I thought moving somewhere else would be a good idea. More defensible."

After a brief pause, Glory grunted. "That's fine by me. I understand you have the most combat experience, but that doesn't mean you get to make all of the decisions. We've been dealing with the Institute for a very long time."

My experience with the Institute is lacking. That's something I'm reminded of every time I engage them, it seems. "Understood. I'm just here to keep everyone breathing through the correct holes."

She smiled. "How thoughtful."

Following her out into the massive, dilapidated room that dominated the museum, the other two were nowhere to be seen.

"Mack and Blaine are checking the building. We've been doing walkthroughs every 15 minutes."

"Mack?" I cocked my head at her.

She nodded. "Yeah, it's what he asked us to call him. I take it you don't."

"The others in Sanctuary do."

"Well since you're working with them and, as long as Dez doesn't rip you a new asshole for this mess, us, maybe you should call him that too."

The only people I've used nicknames for are Alex and the kids. It hasn't been for any particular reason, I just haven't felt it necessary.

"Why?"

Both of her stark white eyebrows went up. "What do you mean 'why'? That's what he prefers to go by." The Railroad soldier huffed in amusement. "You're better than you were the first time around, but you're still clueless." She pulled a meal bar, the same type Deacon had been eating, and tore the wrapper open. "It's called being friendly."

'Mack' is what he prefers to be called? Why don't I call him that? Why do I call Alexandra 'Alex'? Or Cassandra 'Cass'? Thomas 'Tommy'? I guess it's because I'm comfortable around them. And if I continued calling Alex 'Alexandra' she probably would have begun throwing dangerous objects at me.

MacCready and I don't have that level of comfort or familiarity. Same with almost everyone else. With Nate being… well I'm not sure what his status is, but he isn't my companion anymore. They're the ones who know me best, who are comfortable around me. While the other settlers in Sanctuary don't stare or shoot uncertain glances my way anymore, they're still nervous.

Maybe if I was a bit less distant they wouldn't be.

And calling someone by a nickname would help?

Yeah, probably. And if there's anyone else in Sanctuary who isn't nervous around me, it's MacCready.

Creaking wood preceded Deacon emerging from the same room the others had slept in.

"Good morning everyone", he said as he came to a stop next to me and Glory. "Or the two of you. We've got hours to kill, any plans?"

Plans?

"Yeah, Deac", Glory replied, "thought I'd go for a run, maybe some shooting practice, then give Dez a call and see what's for dinner tonight."

Deacon nodded, a grimace on his face. "That's right, it's Cass's turn to cook. Maybe it's better if we stay here."

"Don't you give me that look, me and Tom are still working on it, alright?"

The agent didn't look convinced. "Well, we have to eat what she makes in the meantime."

"It's better than these", she shot back, waving the half-eaten meal bar in front of his face.

"Are you sure about that?"

Glory paused mid-wave and looked at the food in question. "I like to think so."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night", Deacon said through a smile. "What about you big guy, I'm guessing you don't cook."

That isn't true, actually. It isn't what most people would consider cooking, but you have to learn to survive in unfriendly environments. A lot of the time that involves catching and cooking small animals. I've had my share of, let's say, unfortunate experiences, but I'm no stranger to it.

"I have. Usually something I killed over coals in the middle of nowhere."

Both of them frowned at me but, after a moment, Deacon nodded. "That makes sense. Survival training and all that. And surviving."

There was another brief silence before Glory threw her head back and started laughing. When the two of us turned to her she waved the questioning looks away. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just imagining Damon roasting a rad stag over a pit. It was a good picture."

She was acting… different. The only thing that went right yesterday was neutralizing the Gunner presence in Quincy. Even so, she seemed a lot more relaxed around me now. That's probably a good thing, maybe she'd support a decision to join the Minutemen after last night's disaster.

X

"I don't need you to come", I said as I stood next to the door to the museum's roof. With the other entrances blocked and the front entrance the most likely to be watched, it was the most logical place to leave. MacCready- Mack was standing in front of me, rifle in hand, glaring up at me and wearing an unsatisfied frown.

"Yes but I want to come."

Saying he'd slow me down wouldn't be helpful, even though that's what I want to say. Him going out on his own would only be a good way for him to end up dead though.

"Why?", I asked.

"Because I'm tired of sitting around in this broken down museum and the three of them", he waved toward where the Railroad members were preparing to go on their own scouting mission, "don't need me. And because you can't expect us to let you do everything."

By 'us' he meant the Minutemen. "If-"

"Damon", he cut me off, "I know you're a big, tough badass who doesn't need anyone else's help." The way he said that sounded a little sarcastic. "Everyone here has seen fighting." He smirked. "Obviously. I spent the first 20 years of my life sneaking around. I'm good at it. And I've spent the last seven doing it for mercenary work. If we're going to work together- to fight together, don't you think it's a good idea to learn how the other works?"

The last person I did that with ended up using that knowledge to stab me in the back, even if he claims it was inadvertently. And now he's using his knowledge to tailor plans around my combat abilities and style.

Does that mean it's going to happen every time?

No, but this is a high-leverage situation. If the Institute is in Concord, the last thing we need is something like this to expose us. I can do this on my own.

The frown came back. "Look, if we get out there and you think I'm a liability, I'll come back and won't say anything again. Back in the bunker, you asked why people trust you- I don't. It isn't because I don't think you're good for what you say, it's because you don't trust us."

I blinked. I don't trust them? "What do you mean?"

Didn't I just use my distrust for Nate to justify not trusting MacCready?

"I mean I get you want to do everything yourself. I'm guessing that's how you've always done it. After what I saw last night, I understand why you want to do things on your own. You can't though, not if you want to work with Sanctuary. Not if you're the one who's getting the Minutemen up and running again."

It was my turn to frown. He's right, I've almost always done things on my own, at my own pace, without having to worry about how other people react. Even when I didn't it's mostly been with Fourier's team. Other SPARTANs. Even with Nate, he generally left the fighting to me, or we accomplished an objective in a way that let me work however I saw fit. I've spent a lot of time figuring out the best way to work on my own. I'm good at it. That's one of the reasons that, even though I brought the group along from the Railroad, I organized it so I'd be operating alone.

"Not if you're the one who's getting the Minutemen up and running again."

He's right: it was my idea to start the Minutemen again. It doesn't matter if Preston is its leader, I said I'd get things started for them. I'll be doing more than that, I'm going to be helping them until this war is over.

Helping them?

"Then you need to start thinking like that. This is a community, and if you're here to help, that includes you."

That's what Preston said when we were talking about the Minutemen and my idea. They want me to do more than help. From the way he was talking, Preston thinks I need to be more than that if this is going to be successful.

And he's probably right.

What does being in a community like that look like? What do I do?

It's something I'll figure out along the way. Maybe talking with them about it would be a good idea.

Uh-huh. For now, the issue at hand is whether I bring MacCready with me or not. As far as this reconnaissance goes, I don't need his help. I have no doubt he's competent, he's shown more competence than any of the Gunners I've run into so far but does that matter here? The purpose of this exercise is to determine what elements may or may not be in Concord.

If I continue doing everything myself, my help won't matter. I can't be everywhere at once; they'll need to learn to do these things on their own. I'm sure the Railroad members have done this sort of thing before which is probably why they're fine leaving it to me.

This situation is very high risk.

Then I should take his offer and if he causes any trouble, I send him back here.

I shrugged. "Fine."

The former mercenary smiled. "Great. Don't worry about me getting down from the roof, I'm an excellent climber."

I'm sure.

As I turned to reach for the door, I glanced back at him. "Don't fall behind."

He nodded. "Consider me your shadow."

Good luck with that.

Despite my warning, I went slower than I wanted to make sure MacCready didn't. While he watched from the rooftop through his rifle's night vision optic, I descended the front of the museum. Between the destroyed siding and multiple gaping holes, there were plenty of foot and hand holds to choose from.

Once I reached the sidewalk, I crossed the intersection in front of the building and took position at the side of a mostly collapsed house. The former mercenary's climb down took longer, but he hadn't lied when he said he was a proficient climber. The only reason he was slower was that he wasn't a SPARTAN. His fluidity and confidence suggested it was something he'd done before. A lot.

20 seconds later, he was crouched beside the same building and we began our search of the town.

As with the night before, most of my- our time was spent searching for signs of recent movement. Though most of the streets were cleared of dust and small particles by the wind, the interior of most buildings hadn't been.

The problem with that was there were signs of traffic in almost all the structures I searched. A lot of it was animal tracks, but there were some indications of human movement, boot prints, and bare feet. The bare feet were probably Feral Ghouls. We did run across a few of those. As usual, they were little more than an annoyance. Can't even say they were a good way to keep my hand-to-hand sharp.

Even though it would have been more satisfying, I refrained from doing anything like I had during our journey to the farming community. Shattering skulls aren't quiet.

For his part, MacCready was doing well. He stayed far enough away it would be difficult to catch both of us in an ambush, but close enough for support. His footsteps were, as usual for everyone it seemed, too loud, but they were careful and well placed. The ex-mercenary avoided stepping on any of the numerous pieces of rubble scattered around the town and stayed aware of our surroundings.

It took us a little over three hours to clear the west side of town and we didn't find a goddamn thing that suggested we'd been followed.

The thing that sucks about it is that doesn't mean anything. With the relative abundance of traffic and the inconsistent coverage, it's impossible to tell for sure. This is an exercise in frustration, really, a need to get out and do something besides sit and wait.

Maybe moving out of Concord and finding a more suitable position in the forest somewhere would be a better idea. It isn't a guarantee no one would follow us, but at least it wouldn't be in a town.

At no point did I feel like we were being watched either.

"This seems like a waste of time", MacCready said as we circled the south side of Concord.

I didn't want to admit I'd been thinking the same thing for the last hour.

Stopping behind a single-story building of some sort, I scanned our surroundings and nodded my agreement. "Too many variables, not enough information."

The other man grunted. "We don't even know if they're here looking for us."

Even though I hadn't gotten the feeling of being watched, I did have a pretty good idea the Institute had Coursers here. If they were listening in on our comms, Nate may know where we are. I never heard anyone tell him I found Preston's group here, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen.

If that's the case, they didn't need any Coursers to follow us. They could have dropped them here in the half hour between when we had that conversation and when I arrived.

"Do you think they'd try to hit us while we're separated?"

It was a possibility, but there's a reason Deacon, Glory, and Xavier decided to stay in the areas away from the museum. It doesn't guarantee no Coursers are hiding in the buildings, but if they know where we are, they'll be nearby. If they were going to attack the Railroad members, they'd do it now while we were separated, and try to exfil with them before I could intervene.

Maybe I'm giving the three of them a little trust to know what they're doing; they've been fighting the Institute a lot longer than me. Their continued existence shows they know how to keep a low profile.

As for the two of us, I wouldn't be surprised if the Institute wanted another shot at me. I survived their first attempt, embarrassed them at the hospital, and escaped their most recent trap. If they're following Nate's instructions though, I don't think they'd come after me without a plan of attack. I didn't just take Andrew from under their noses, I scared the shit out of the ex-soldier.

They might still hit us while we're separated, but I don't think it's likely. What seems more reasonable, at least from their end, is to sit back, watch, and analyze. Once we settle down, they'll come up with a plan and execute when we're all in one place.

That's what I'd do anyway.

And that's why they may do something else. It pays to be prepared for everything which is why, one, we're moving to a better position, and two, my senses were working on overdrive. There weren't many shadows with the small slice of the moon in the sky, but my NVS still did a good job of filtering them out. If they were using Coursers, and they had a good ambush zone, that wouldn't mean much.

"So are we gonna finish searching the rest of the town?"

It was a good question. I frowned as I ran the different scenarios through my head. I don't like doing things halfway, it's how people get dead. I also don't like wasting time and energy on pointless tasks. Sometimes the best thing you can do if a mission isn't going well is to step back and reassess.

The problem here is I don't know if this is going well or not. We haven't found anything, but that doesn't mean there is or isn't anything to find.

Am I thinking about this wrong? I never like being the one in the dark about enemy positions. It's why I generally take what my handler called a 'proactive approach' to reconnaissance. There were a few times I was ordered to reign it in, to let the enemies come to me.

I hate that, it makes me feel like I'm on the defensive, but it still worked.

"No", I replied, shaking my head. We change things up. "Let's head back to the museum and see what they've found."

MacCready squinted up at me but didn't ask. That was good. If there are Institute elements in the area, we have to assume they can hear us. He knows I'm thinking something. That's enough for now.

It only took us 10 minutes to get back to the museum. With the front door wired for sound, we climbed back up to the roof again. Inside, Glory was waiting for us.

She and MacCready were standing on the other side of the Vertibird when I emerged over the edge of the roof.

"We've got a place we like", she whispered and motioned us inside.

We followed her back through the building and to one of the side entrances. They'd broken the door handle which was now resting on the ground, rebar I'd looped around it still in place.

The grenade I'd placed as a trap was also missing.

In all likelihood, they'd already collected them. Hell, if they were smart our new position would be wired.

So climbing back to the roof had been unnecessary…

Glory led us back out of the museum and into the alley beyond. The minuscule light trickling from the moon above us barely made it between the buildings around us. Without NVS, it would be very difficult to see.

As we moved toward the street, the Railroad soldier had her rifle up and was using its night vision optic to scan for threats. The weapon had to weigh at least 10 kilos, if not more. She was stronger than her frame would suggest.

A lot stronger.

Before we reached the end of the alley, she held up a fist, signaling us to a stop. If we weren't potentially being hunted by the Institute, it would have been amusing to watch her clear the exit with that massive rifle. As it was, I struggled to refrain from switching with her. With the weapon's long barrel and ungainly mass, Glory was laboring to keep tight to the corners and sweep the street.

Instead, I slipped closer to her, close enough that, provided someone didn't outright kill her with the first shot, I could intervene.

Nothing happened and she waved us forward a few moments later.

Once we were out in the street, she turned right to lead us south through the maze of dilapidated buildings and destruction-strewn streets.

And still nothing.

That little voice in the back of my head started speaking up, offering doubts the Institute had managed to follow us here. A much larger part of me told that voice to shut up. Getting careless is how you get someone killed. Even if the Institute isn't here, it doesn't hurt anyone to be safe and spend a few days in the brush.

We still need to figure out what the hell is going on. Or at least get a better idea. The Institute just made a major move, the first one in two weeks, and it involved both me and the Brotherhood.

After five minutes of weaving through the cracked streets and crumbling buildings, MacCready and I followed Glory down one more alley before she pointed to a house on our left. It was mostly intact with peeling paint that looked light blue in my night vision. There was a narrow side door hanging slightly ajar and, after tapping once, waiting a second, then tapping three more times, she swung open.

Squeezing myself through after her was an aggravating experience. It was so low and narrow, even turning sideways and crouching, I was almost hitting all three sides. The point was to be as quiet as possible, and scraping against the doorframe would defeat the purpose of sneaking through the town.

When I did, I was greeted with a dim interior illuminated by my hud. We were standing in the kitchen complete with appliances and cabinets that were falling off the wall. There was a small table on the other side of the room where Deacon and Xavier were sitting.

The Railroad agent was wearing an amused smile.

MacCready followed me in and gently pulled the door shut behind him.

"Welcome to our new digs", Deacon said, keeping his voice low. "Not quite as spacious as our previous accommodations, but with the better location and smaller footprint, it's a better deal."

Uh-huh.

"Points of egress?" I asked.

Glory pointed toward the front of the house. "Door and two windows there", she motioned to the north side, "two more windows on the street and then the back door."

"We've got the three windows and front door trapped", the other Railroad member said. "There's an escape route we can use on the second floor to get to the roof of the next building. It's low, flat, and should support your weight."

'Should'. I always like it when people say 'should'.

"I probably won't use it if the time comes."

He shrugged. "Fair."

I looked around the small building. It was good and bad. On the good side, it's much more defensible with the five of us, lower profile, and situated closer to the edge of town. On the other hand, its size limits our options and anything with more energy than someone throwing a brick will go straight through the place. I could probably put enough speed behind a brick to get it through.

It's always a trade-off.

"Get some sleep", I said. "We'll figure out what we're going to do when everyone's rested."

MacCready grunted. "You barely got any sleep last night. You need some too."

While he was right, I do need sleep, I don't need it as bad as the rest of them do.

"I'll catch a few hours later."

A quiet groan came from the floor as Deacon stood. "Damon, we need you at 100%. Yesterday was non-stop fighting and moving. We're used to doing this too. Get some sleep, we'll wake you up in a few hours."

The other three members of our impromptu party nodded in agreement. Their eyes, all except for Deacon who was still wearing those sunglasses (how the hell did he see anything?), said they were tired too. More tired than me.

But they're right: I need to be at 100% and after the four hours of sleep I got this morning, I have to admit I'm not there.

"Fine."

"Good", Glory said. "There's a nice bedroom upstairs-"

"No", I said, shaking my head, "I'll sleep in the front room. No point in trusting old, rotting stairs to hold me. Or not groan loud enough to be heard from Boston."

"Fair enough."

With that, I walked past the others and out of the kitchen. The living room was just as bad as the kitchen. Some of the ceiling had degraded enough to break away and crash to the wooden floor. Two couches had, somehow, maintained their shape, but they were covered in dust and a table that had crumbled into a pile of wood on the floor.

The front door and two windows were opposite the kitchen. That would be a decent place to settle.

Pulling the McMillan from my back, I slid into a sitting position and propped my back against the wall just to the right of the kitchen entrance. I placed the large sniper rifle beside me and leaned my head back against the crumbling plaster.

This is… another fantastic situation I've gotten myself into. This all started because I wanted to give the Railroad a reason to join the Minutemen. Or at least align with them- us. Now it's turned into a mess with the Institute tracking us, them using me as bait, the Brotherhood pissed off, two dead Railroad members, and no clue why the Institute is doing this in the first place.

That isn't to say this has been a complete failure. I think at least Glory and Deacon are on board, but it hasn't exactly gone well.

The others were talking quietly in the kitchen. Eavesdropping wouldn't be valuable. If it has something to do with our status or plans, they could tell me when I wake up.

Sanctuary's clear. Can we go there? I don't know if it's a good idea. Yes, I warned Nate to leave them alone, but now that I'm working with them, restarting the Minutemen, will that hold? My intentions are still the same, if they attack Sanctuary I'm going to burn their world down, but I can't expect them to let me operate with impunity.

Another thought occurred to me. If the Brotherhood managed to hide a mole in Sanctuary, I have to assume the Institute has as well. That's what they're good at, right? Covert operations, inserting Synths into groups of interest and using them to either gather intel or disrupt-

Oh.

Is that what they were doing? Using the attack as cover for infiltration?

There are several subject matter experts in the next room...

I slowly pushed myself into a standing position and turned around the doorway into the kitchen. The four of them were sitting around the small table, all looking exhausted with their slumped postures and haggard faces. They all turned to look at me.

"Damon?" MacCready asked, my name dropped out of his mouth as though he wasn't sure how to pronounce it.

"Would the Institute use yesterday, my diversion and their attack on Cambridge, to insert Synths into Brotherhood ranks?"

No one spoke for a few moments while their sleep-addled minds struggled with the question. The first to recover was, of course, Deacon.

"That sounds like a good reason to go through that trouble", he said, rubbing his chin. "It's impossible to say if Danse was working for the Institute, but it didn't seem like it. In either case, Shaun would want to get someone into the Brotherhood to either continue whatever mission Danse was undertaking, or gain an informant."

Glory nodded her agreement. "Plus, considering what you told us about the Brotherhood having a mole in the Institute, I don't doubt they'd want to return the favor."

While I don't know what Nate, Shaun, and Ayo might be planning, the possibilities with a Synth integrated into the Brotherhood are endless. Would it be that easy though? The Brotherhood has to keep some record of their personnel.

But the Institute will have thought of that. Danse's presence in the Brotherhood is proof of that, even if they didn't place him there for any specific purpose. Haylen told me all of his records checked out. Well, that's obviously fake, so the Institute can alter records to be whatever they want/need them to be.

"Good idea", Deacon continued, "now go get some sleep, we'll all be able to think more clearly if we aren't exhausted. The sooner you sleep, the sooner the rest of us get to."

They aren't interested in discussing this now? I hesitated in the doorway. It seems like a question that needs answering.

They're tired. It's been a long two days, especially for Glory and Deacon. Nothing about this situation will change between now and tomorrow morning.

It could.

Even if it does, which I doubt, no one here is in any shape to deal with it.

The sooner I sleep, the sooner the rest of them get to…

Turning away from the door, I retreated to where I'd left the sniper rifle and settled back against the wall.

As I leaned back, I ran the scene at Cambridge back through my head. It had been a mess: downed Vertibirds, bodies littering the streets, a massive number of Brotherhood soldiers on watch, and nothing the Institute had to show for it. That was a lot of resources sunk into an operation, including a brand new strategy, to come up empty.

Using it as a distraction to insert a mole made perfect sense. It's basically the same thing the Brotherhood did, just taken to the next level.

When we get back, I need to tell Desdemona about Booker. Damn… How had I forgotten about that? The Brotherhood operative working within Li's group. The longer they're active, the more risk both the splinter group and Railroad are in.

My eyes drifted shut and I let the exhaustion of the last few days take hold. A few moments later, I was asleep.

X

I need to go on the offensive.

The others were asleep, the sounds of slow, deep breathing drifting from the small room they'd chosen.

Even before I'd gone back to Sanctuary, my operations were limited in scope to resource and intel gathering. Since I brought Andrew to the settlement, I've been working on logistics more than anything. Yes, I assaulted the Raider base up north, but that was to retrieve Danse. I didn't do enough damage to affect anything. The same goes for Quincy; I did it to convince the Railroad to join us and to give the Minutemen something to talk about. The Gunners, for their size and relative organization, aren't major players in this fight. I need to figure out a way to take this war to the Brotherhood and Institute.

Outside, the night was calm and still. As always, the occasional burst of gunfire sounded, but nothing worth worrying about. With the rotting wooden floors of the house sensitive to my movements, I kept them slow and controlled as I paced the interior periodically. The rooms and hallways were small and uncomfortably tight. The more I walked them, the more convinced I was the others chose this place for its location and escape routes rather than the house itself. It would be difficult to maneuver effectively if a gunfight happened here.

How am I going to change the disposition of this war? It will be very difficult to hit any major Brotherhood locations, especially now with the Institute launching another major attack. I still don't know how to infiltrate the Institute again, not without blowing a massive hole in the middle of the CIT campus anyway. That's the main reason I originally wanted to contact the Railroad again, to see if they have any ideas, but that might be a pipedream now.

My armored boots produced an almost imperceptible groan from the tortured floor as I stepped back into the front room.

It was 0300. There were another three hours until the sky started brightening, almost four before the sun was up.

The Railroad's protocols dictate they spend four days in hiding, more if necessary.

Waiting that long is out of the question. Things are moving fast and I can't afford to sit on the sidelines. Sanctuary can't afford that. The potentially burgeoning Minutemen can't afford that. It may be egotistical to say, but removing me from the current playing field for that long is unacceptable. Who knows, maybe that was part of the Institute's plan too.

Probably not. There were a lot of moving parts to that plan. Is Nate capable of putting something like that together? I doubt he would be on his own, but he does have a team of, ostensibly, incredibly intelligent people around him.

Nate…

Maybe I should have shot him in the hospital. In the head instead of his armor plate. Maybe leaving him alive wasn't so he could take a message back to the Institute. The woman with him, Jessica, was just as capable. Had I left him alive because I hadn't wanted to kill him? Had I let emotions get in the way of the correct decisions?

There were signs he really is working with Li and her group, but did that mean anything? He could be trying to play me again, he's smart enough to.

Or maybe dumb enough.

Standing in the darkness of the small house we'd wound up in, I stared out the front windows and into the street beyond.

What if it's the truth? What if he does regret what happened? What if he is trying to help?

So many things I know- I knew have changed over the last few months. How I do things hasn't been working, and my approach has changed so dramatically. I'm building alliances and playing PR now. That's what I've always done, adapt to the situation, but that's always been fighting. Now it isn't.

Is this one of those things? I don't have an answer.

The idea of trusting Nate again though, of letting anyone else besides a select few in… I don't know.

It doesn't matter right now. For now I need to focus on how to change my position in this fight. I need to become more active.

In the immediate future, my best bet is to start disrupting Brotherhood actions more directly. I can't go too far until I find a way into the Institute since their presence is holding Shaun back. That means-

Discomfort washed over me and alarms started buzzing in my head.

Shouldering my rifle, I crouched and began scanning the interior of the house.

Nothing.

My eyes swept across the open windows as I searched for potential trouble. The sight lines were horrible, but going up to them is a rookie mistake and a great way to get shot.

I shifted around the front room to find different angles, but still, there was nothing.

Ignoring instinct is never a good idea. I paused, held my breath, and listened. I turned the gain on my audio up until the others' breathing was almost painfully loud.

Underneath it was a low, dull scraping, slow and rhythmic. It was soft and indistinct, but I couldn't tell if it was from an approaching enemy or the wind. Is that what alarmed me?

Doesn't matter, wake up the others-

"DAMON."

What the-

"I KNOW YOU'RE ON THIS CHANNEL."

The voice was coming through my radio. The satchel's thin fabric didn't dampen the sound enough to make it not almost deafening.

As I turned my audio back to regular levels, I pulled the handset from its pouch.

"You don't need to respond, but I need you to listen."

It was Nate's voice.

"Ayo just ordered an attack on your position. You need to go. They're coming at you hard and, after that, they're going to Sanctuary."

They'd been monitoring our comms after all.

Is this another trap? Why would he tell me what they're planning? Why would he give me a heads-up?

If he's working with Li's group and he knows I have Railroad members with me, he'd want us to get out.

But-

There's no time to debate this. I was already on alert, we need to get moving now.

I hesitated an instant longer, trying to come up with a response. No time.

My feet carried me toward the others, thoughts of remaining quiet gone. However they knew where we were, they knew and at that point, stealth doesn't matter.

The floorboards groaned as I entered the small room the others were asleep in. The small bed had been moved to the side and they were each sitting against a different wall. MacCready's back was to the outer wall of the house.

"Get up", I said in a harsh whisper. The instant I did, all four stirred. Their eyes snapped open and they were alert a moment later.

"Wh-" Glory started but I cut her off.

"Move, now. Our position is compromised."

The alert turned into alarm and they all began climbing to their feet.

That scraping wasn't on the edge of my hearing anymore, and it wasn't scraping. There were more distinct crunches coming from outside-

They stopped.

"DOWN!" I roared and lunged toward MacCready.

I reached him as the first projectile crashed through the wall. It was that same odd report I'd heard the night before. The mercenary shouted in pain, clutching his right arm. I pulled him away from the wall and placed myself between the others and whoever was shooting.

Another shot burst through, throwing plaster and pieces of wood into the room. Whatever they were shooting zipped over my left shoulder and I started pumping rounds back out toward the alley. The MK18's booming report and brilliant muzzle flashes exploded into the night as the massive rounds crashed through the ruined house's side.

Beneath the sounds of gunfire, I heard their footsteps pounding across the wooden floorboards and toward the stairs. I don't know how bad MacCready was hit, but when I glanced back at the door, he was disappearing through it.

They weren't out of the woods, but they were out of immediate danger.

You're going after Sanctuary? I told you motherfuckers what would happen.

The group needs time and space.

Lunging toward where I guessed the gunfire was coming from, I drove my legs into the floor so hard I heard it groan and crack beneath my armored boots. My left shoulder crashed into the wall and it buckled outward as if it were made of paper. The next instant I was in the alley and I felt my arm slam into something.

Then whatever it was and I both crashed into the wall behind it.

I felt more than heard the snap but, when I looked, there was nothing between me and the wall.

Cloaked Courser.

That's fine. There's only one spot it could be.

As I stepped back, I leveled the MK18 at where the thing's head would be and pulled the trigger twice. I was rewarded with blood exploding across the wall from, seemingly, nowhere. An instant later the body resolved, minus its head, and slumped to the ground.

That wasn't something I took the time to watch.

My shields flared into life as I spun away from the now-dead Courser. Whoever else was in the alley had shifted their aim and the weapons they were using hit hard. The first few shots brought my shields down to half strength and I dove forward to avoid another barrage.

The alley was barely twice as wide as me which meant dodging wouldn't be an option.

Another shot hit.

Nothing fancy, just time and space.

Springing forward, I threw myself at the spot I guessed the next target was, near the wall opposite the house. Judging by the rate of fire, there was more than one Courser. That means I can't compromise myself to take out the one closest to me.

As I careened toward my second target, I brought the MK18 back up and fired toward the mouth of the alley. Even with moonlight spilling through the opening, I couldn't see any distortion that would suggest that target's location. That means they're either not in the mouth, or their active camo is very good.

This time my shoulder hit the wall, but there was no Courser between me and it.

Doesn't matter, keep moving.

My feet drove into the broken pavement and I sprinted for the street. I felt a projectile careen over my left shoulder and I put a round where I thought the shot may have come from.

A spray of blood, vibrant red in my NVS, rewarded the shot but the target didn't resolve.

Not a kill shot.

With how resilient Coursers are, that means it wouldn't be out of the fight for long.

Dammit.

My shields flared to life again as a shot connected with my back but before anything else could hit me, I burst into the street-

And found myself facing a half dozen regular Synths in their stark white hard body armor. Each of them had a laser rifle trained on the mouth of the alley.

If I slowed down, this could get bad quickly.

Blue flashes exploded into the night as the squad opened fire. Most of the bolts missed, but the few that did hit were enough to set an alarm in my helmet bleating. The shields' energy bar was flashing red.

I twisted as I sprinted across the street and fired twice. The first round missed, but the second caught the closest Synth in the side of its neck. The thing collapsed to the ground, but I didn't take the time to see if it was dead.

Another projectile slammed into my back and, as the alarm went from persistent to blaring, my shields collapsed.

Before the Coursers could hit me again, I dove for a window in the small storefront ahead of me. Laser bolts flashed through the air where my head had been an instant before, a handful of them connecting with my left shoulder. The high-intensity light beams didn't get through, but I felt my undersuit heat in response to the impacts.

Then I was through the window, crashing to the floor of the store and scattering debris as I collided with a shelf that looked like it was ready to collapse on its own.

An instant later, a detonation sounded from the house. One of the grenades.

This is a well-coordinated assault: stealthy units got close to open up, and support squads in the street to catch anything that slipped through. If it wasn't for Nate's warning…

Why would he do that?

Worry about it once I'm not being shot at.

Scrambling to my feet, I peered back through the window and squeezed off a half dozen rounds into the alley. It was impossible to tell where the Coursers were, but I needed them to stay away from the hole I made for a few more seconds. There was, obviously, no trap set there. The longer the others had to make their escape across the rooftops, the better.

This time the alley's narrow confines worked in my favor though. I started at the left side and worked my way across as I fired. My fourth shot landed and an explosion of blood, dark spray even in my night vision, burst from one of the hunter Synths. The cloaked bastard materialized out of thin air as it crumpled to the broken pavement, left side of its head missing.

Laser fire speared back through the window in response and I ducked to the side. My shields need time to recharge. Whatever the Coursers were shooting, it could get through my soft armor.

A twinge in my shoulder and neck reminded me of the ambush. It had been a while since my armor let anything through.

Another grenade went off.

In the time I've been active, they should have been able to make it up the stairs and onto the roof. How much time do they need?

Not having comms sucked. I can't risk them transmitting, giving up their position, and having more Institute forces teleported in around them. We're close enough to Cambridge any relay signals would bring in a full-scale Brotherhood assault force. That's when things would get very bad.

Then I'll buy them as much time as I can.

This is one of those times I wish I had explosives. A few well-placed grenades would do wonders for the situation.

Grenades aren't going to appear out of thin air. I slipped to the rear of the building and swung open the security door. It groaned loudly on its rusted hinges, but it isn't like the Synths don't know where I am.

Behind it was another alley, this one wide enough for two cars to pass side by side. There were a few clusters of rubble, brick, and framing from the buildings around me, but nothing that would slow me down.

Clock ticking in my head, I ran left toward the next street over and peered around the corner.

The squad of Synths was at the next intersection, weapons trained on the mouth of the alley.

An instant after I peeked into the street, laser fire flared into the night again.

Shit.

They were trying to cordon me off, keep me isolated with these units while whatever they have left go after the others.

"Smart bastards", I muttered as I checked the magazine in my gun. Six rounds left and two more magazines on the side.

Bolts were still slamming into the opposite corner around chest level.

Dropping almost into a prone position, I leaned around the corner and emptied the magazine into the group of Synths. Two hit the ground before they could adjust their aim and one more died as the lasers started hitting me.

The MK18 ran dry and I rolled back behind the wall to swap in a new magazine. There were only two left on that corner. My shields were at half-strength. If I need to take them head-on, I can.

The remaining Synths were holding position though. Why would they-

Oh shit.

Just as I pivoted back toward the opposite side of the alley, one of the Courser's high-powered rifles drilled a round into my shields.

Then another.

They were cloaked.

My feet drove me back out of the alley, rifle trained on the corner. The two Synths were still there and, as soon as I was clear, I squeezed my rifle's trigger. The high-powered round slammed into the right Synth's head and punched straight through its helmet.

An instant later, my shields' energy warning alarm started chirping again as a third shot hit me.

Scrambling out of view of the alley, I raced back toward the street the house was on. The remaining Synth opened fire, but it was down after the second shot.

Shooting exploded into the night ahead of me. So much for the Institute not finding them…

The Institute wouldn't be stupid enough to only task the one fireteam to my containment. How do I do this then?

Possibilities raced through my head as I skirted past the ruined building toward the street again. Without knowing how many they'd sent after us, making a decision here is crucial. If I get it wrong, someone, or multiple someones, end up dead. That's something that can't happen, not now and not with who's left.

The situation is working against the Institute too. These forces weren't teleported into Concord. If they had been, the Brotherhood would be all over us. They don't want that. Brotherhood involvement complicates things. That means the Synths they have here are what they have to work with.

Stopping at the corner, I peered around the building toward the house. Two gaping holes had been blown in the front of the building. Those were the grenades. Five Synths were arrayed in a semicircle around the house looking outward. Their rear guard.

Five wouldn't be much to deal with, but I wouldn't bet on them being alone. There's probably Courser support somewhere and I know there's at least one in the alley I'd just left.

No time to engage, gunfire was still raging from the rooftops.

I darted across the street, legs pumping as I made for the relative safety of the opposite end. By the time the Synths turned to engage, I was halfway across. Firing at them would be a waste of ammo and time.

Lasers speared past me, one or two burning into my slowly recharging shields setting off the alarm once again. These tactics are different, very different. They're pushing hard, making up for the difference in individual combat power with numbers. It makes sense, producing Synths takes next to no time at all. Their Coursers are being deployed as high-pressure, fast-moving units. Even if the bastard's trying to help now, Nate did a good job teaching them how to counter me.

An instant later I was across and continued sprinting the length of the next block. The gunfight was still moving south, away from the house, but they'd run out of rooftop soon.

Nothing else greeted me which either means the Institute doesn't have a perimeter established, or it's further out.

One problem at a time. Regroup and get everyone out of this initial fight.

As I rounded onto the next street, I double-checked to make sure there were no Synths lying in wait, then scanned the buildings to my right. They were all crumbling messes, but a few of them were made of brick. One of those looked like it was still structurally sound enough to hold my weight.

More gunfire rang reminding me I was on the clock. I ran toward the structure, what looked like a three-story apartment, and leaped for the roof. Colliding with the building just above the second floor, I scrambled the rest of the way up. On more than one occasion, a brick would break loose, letting a hand or foot fall away, but I didn't let it slow me. I smashed my hands and feet into the building, grabbing anything I could and, if necessary, making my own holds.

A few seconds later, I pulled myself up onto the roof and-

Eight Synths and two Coursers.

MacCready, Glory, Deacon, and Xavier were two buildings away from me, the force pursuing them just emerging onto the roof. It looks like they'd used a window in the house to climb out. That never would have supported my weight.

The former mercenary was compromised. He'd taken cover behind a low brick overhang, opening facing me, while the others engaged with the pursuing force. The three Railroad members were crouched behind an assortment of rooftop utilities like HVAC units and low brick walls firing at the advancing Synths. There were already four down but, now they were out of the kill-box and advancing, my group would run out of room very quickly.

Coursers go first.

Why they're uncloaked, I don't know, it may have to do with squad tactics. I'm not going to second guess it. I brought my rifle up and squeezed off a round. It slammed into the brick wall the closest Courser was hiding behind and blew a half-meter wide chunk of it apart. My second round punched through and a spray of blood told me I'd hit my mark.

Pivoting my aim to the second-

No sooner than I'd centered the scope on the other Courser than the host of Synths turned their fire on me. Blue lasers flared into life, blinding me as I dove to the side. The barrage was so heavy a dozen of them still impacted. At the same time, I felt one of the Courser's high-powered rounds slam into my shields and they collapsed just as I disappeared beneath the ledge of the building.

The Railroad members didn't waste the opening. I couldn't see them, but the boom of conventional weapon fire exploded into the night. Rolling out of the dive, I came up in a kneel and added to their fire. With my shields down, I tucked my arms as close to my chest as I could and tilted my head down, angling so hitting my soft armor would be almost impossible.

Four of the Synths dropped but I saw Glory catch a laser bolt in the chest. She barked in pain, stumbling backward, but instead of going down, she chambered another round in her large caliber rifle.

The rest of the Synths scrambled for cover-

Searing pain shot through my right hip and I groaned through gritted teeth as I sighted on the Courser. The bastard was ducking away after having slipped to the side while the other Synths took the brunt of our fire. She was tall with blonde hair tied back and she'd just put a round of whatever the hell they were shooting through me.

Because I'd been careless.

My finger tightened around the MK18's trigger and it sent a round screaming toward my target. She ducked, trying to get behind a half-wall.

And right into the path of the round.

It punched through her left eye and she tumbled out of sight.

Dropping back to the roof, I pressed my right hand against my hip. Pain shot through my leg, and my gauntlet came away wet.

Dammit.

My HUD scrolled something across in the top right corner. Whatever I'd been shot with, it had entered just above my hip, ricochet off my pelvis, and caught in the hydrostatic gel inside my armor. No major damage.

The self-sealing material had already patched itself and the gel layer constricted to keep the wound from bleeding. It hurt like a bitch but I'm still combat effective.

Great.

"Status", I barked.

"We're good", Glory called back. The strain in her voice was plain as day, but she had it under control.

"Cover and move." I pushed myself back up, crouching instead of kneeling this time. My hip panged hard in protest, but that pain was just information. It would be fine. Eventually.

"Deacon", Glory ordered, "your lead."

The Railroad agent responded by turning from his cover and running toward the south edge of the roof. He stayed low to the roof, moving carefully to keep out of the line of fire.

Even so, the remaining Synths began spraying toward our position, trying to expose as little of themselves as possible.

It was different though, their disposition had changed. Most of the lasers spearing toward us were blind fire. I caught one attacker in an exposed shoulder, almost taking its arm off, but they weren't taking the fight anymore. Had we dealt with enough of their forces to dissuade further advances? By my count, three Coursers and about a dozen Synths were down. It wasn't a huge number, but fielding a significant force would be difficult considering the circumstances.

"They're coming at you hard and, after that, they're going after Sanctuary."

They're going after Sanctuary. If that's the case, and they're trying to maintain a low profile, they're going to be splitting already limited forces.

A laser bolt flashed over the roof behind me.

They're changing tactics.

"We've got a squad below", Deacon called.

Four Synths left on the roof, an unknown number and, probably, the still active Coursers below. The fireteam spraying our positions with blind fire is trying to dissuade an advance in that direction. Between their distance from us and my almost recharged shields, I could cross it before they dropped again. Provided my leg held up.

That was my first thought, take advantage of a perceived weakness and lean on it until it breaks.

That idea got discarded immediately. They've drilled this with me in mind. Even with the losses they've suffered, the operation stunk of repetition. Repetition with strictly trained or programmed units means rigid doctrine. Rigid doctrine means unexpected actions are difficult to account for.

They expect me to engage. I can't assume their only objective here is to kill or capture us, this may be a delay tactic to give them more time to hit Sanctuary.

So maybe it's time to disengage.

How?

My eyes roamed the roof, looking for an alternate route. There were several holes, including a few blown-out skylights, but dropping into the building we're already on wouldn't accomplish anything. What makes this difficult is, while I don't think they'd teleport more people this close to Cambridge, I can't make that assumption either.

I'm injured, at least MacCready and Glory are hit too. Shit... Come on, I can think my way out of this. Disengage. We're surrounded, but a significant portion of their forces have been eliminated including three Coursers.

A blue beam lanced over my cover.

It would be a lot easier to do that if I was alone. They need time and space.

Time and space.

Who's the primary target? The Railroad or me?

They dedicated more resources to me during the initial fighting. That's the only info I have to go on.

What if I'm wrong?

Peaking over the low brick wall, I squeezed off a few rounds in response. Neither hit.

If I'm wrong they need some sort of contingency. A defensible position.

Inside.

"Damon, Xavier!" Glory shouted. "Covering fire! Mack and Deacon, into the building!"

Covering- no. It was good she was thinking too but they all needed to get inside.

"No", I called back. "All of you inside." She looked at me. "Now."

Deacon didn't hesitate. He scrambled for the skylight as I began returning fire.

One by one, they dropped through into the building below. The volume of incoming laser blots started dying off as Glory disappeared through the opening. I don't know what that meant and there wasn't time to figure it out. The longer I spend screwing around with these assholes, the longer it takes me to get to Sanctuary.

The instant I came out of my crouch and turned for the hole, my right hip screamed in protest.

It isn't bad. Keep going.

I could tell myself that all I wanted, my hip still had a hole in it and that's all my body knew.

Half stumbling, I made it across the five meters to the skylight, blue beams flashing through the night at my back.

No one was in the way.

Fire shot through my entire right side as I dropped to the floor below. My leg buckled and I was forced to catch myself.

"Are you okay?" someone asked from behind me.

My body wanted to say 'no', but its concerns could wait.

"Yeah." I struggled into a standing position. "Got hit, no serious damage."

When I turned to survey the room, it looked like an apartment's living room. Destroyed furniture was littering the room, but other than that, it was vacant.

Deacon was the one who'd asked. He was standing beside the open front door with MacCready. Glory was in the hall. No Xavier, he was probably further out.

"They're hitting Sanctuary", I continued. "We need to make this fast."

MacCready's eyes shot wide. "How do you know?"

"I-" Because Nate told me.

That bastard.

"I got a call from Nate about this ambush. He said they were going to attack them too."

"Nate, huh?" Glory muttered from the hall.

The former mercenary wasn't concerned about any of that. "We gotta help them."

"How much do you put on this?" Deacon asked.

How much do I put on Nate's word? Zero. But he warned us about this. If the Institute was to attack me- us here, it wouldn't surprise me if they hit Sanctuary.

Even so… "That's- I don't know."

"If they're being attacked we have to help", MacCready said. "If it's this bad here-"

Glory shook her head. "Whatever happens will be done before we get there." She glanced at me. "How bad are you hurt?"

The wound wasn't deep. Ligaments and muscles wouldn't be damaged. "Pain management."

She grunted. "If you can help us get out of this building, we'll take care of the rest."

Take care of the rest? "Are you sure?" The soldier nodded.

I'd be leaving them on their own but… should I trust them to get out without help?

"What's your exit strategy?"

"Hit and run is how the Railroad works", Deacon said. "This place gives us a lot of options."

'Options' don't mean good ones. "They have Coursers."

"Not the first time."

This would be leaving one problem to solve another. Unless I trust them to do this on their own.

… If I'm going to make this work, I need to start trusting other people know what they're doing.

"Alright."

A/N: So, why was I two days late getting this up? Well it's something that's been building for a while now (no, I'm not behind in writing, I still have my buffer). While I was editing this chapter over the week, I noticed a lot of things that needed fixing. It wasn't things like grammar (which I'm constantly fixing), but elements of the chapter I just straight up didn't like. Writing to post every week, along with editing, means I average about 2500 words/day. Between work and everything else, that was difficult. That isn't to say I don't enjoy doing that, I like seeing the story progress as much as everyone else but, as I go back and read the more recent chapters, I feel like in order to do that, I've sacrificed other things that are important to me (worldbuilding elements, characterizations, aesthetics, etc.) to focus on the narrative. All that being said, I'll be posting on the regular schedule for the rest of September, but will not be posting anything in October, and only two chapters in November before going back to my regular schedule in December. This is NOT a hiatus. I will still be working on the story, but I need to take the time to focus on getting it back to where I want it to be and I don't feel like I can do that while posting every week. So yeah, sorry about being late, and sorry about the upcoming gap, but I love this story and these characters and I need to do a better job. But, that isn't for a few more weeks so I'll see everyone next time!

Next chapter: 9/23, Old Friends, Old Enemies