Wrong Place, Right Time: A Hero's Story

by DLTA-BOT

The journey of a hero doesn't always start where they expect. It doesn't always happen to those who expect it. Damon was never interested in being what SPARTANs represent: an implacable force for good standing as humanity's shield. Like most other third-generation SPARTANs, the war took everything from him. All he wanted was to return the favor. Sometimes we don't get a choice.

56. Chapter 56: Decisions Have Consequences

A/N: Two years. It's been two years since I posted the first chapter of this story. It's been a crazy two years. Thank you all for the support you've shown the story. It isn't one of the larger ones out there, but at the end of the day, the people who read every week are still amazing. Everyone who comes along to read this later, thank you too. Not many stories make it this far, so I'm glad I've been able to keep writing and posting. As for the chapter, things are about to get complicated and that's aaaaall I'm gonna say :). Anyway, leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!

Chapter 56: Decisions Have Consequences

The Institute, apparently, hadn't thought Sanctuary would be as well prepared for an attack as it was. They hadn't brought any heavier ordinance with them to break through the armored buildings and walls the settlers had constructed. Maybe they thought their numbers would be enough, or maybe they were counting on the Coursers to do the heavy lifting. If it's the second one…

Nate's warning was even more important than I thought. If it had taken any longer to get to Sanctuary, things could have gone south. As much as I hate admitting it.

Oddly, the Institute hadn't bothered policing their dead or equipment. The Synths in the hills above the settlement were still scattered through the trees, their armor and weapons left for the taking.

As tempting as it was, I'm not stupid enough to take them without checking first.

Once the sun broke over the eastern horizon, the settlers started milling around Sanctuary again. There wasn't much damage to the settlement, no enemies got inside the wall, but there was significant damage to the fortifications.

And there were more dead than I originally thought.

Preston sent two guards to relieve me around 0700. My leg was stiff, but most of the pain was gone. It would be a hindrance for a while but the round didn't go very deep before ricocheting off my pelvis. That means the muscle is most likely intact. The Minuteman met me outside the house looking haggard. There were deep bags under his eyes, he wasn't wearing his customary hat, his shoulders were slumped, and he looked like he was fighting back tears.

"Morning", he said, voice thick. The word was automatic, a greeting with no more emotion behind it than any one of the partially repaired houses around us.

"I- uh- never said thanks last night", he continued. "Saved our asses again." The way he said that didn't sound all that grateful.

"Say what you're actually thinking."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Whoa, color me impressed." This time there was a hint of sarcasm.

The Minuteman's brow furrowed and he snorted. "All this work", he said motioning to the settlement, "and we still got a warning from Nate, him and Danse running the defense, and you coming in." He threw his hands up in the air. "When are we gonna be able to take care of ourselves?"

I looked around the settlement. Most of the people I saw wore similar expressions. Even though they won, they'd gotten hit hard. They lost people.

"You sure I'm the right person for this?"

"No", I replied as I met Preston's gaze again. It isn't like I have any experience here either. Everyone is playing it by ear. "Who else is going to do it?"

"So you chose me because you didn't have anyone else?" The question wasn't an accusation, if anything he said it more in resignation.

What is this? Sanctuary didn't fall, most of the people here survived. I spent seven years training before deploying for the first time. Most of my operations, at first, were planned entirely by someone else. In every debrief after every mission, each of my actions, sometimes down to things as minute as shot placement, were analyzed and critiqued for hours. In some cases there were multiple debriefs over several days. The idea he thinks, after a few months of minor preparations, he'd be ready for what happened last night is almost insulting.

To hell with that, it is insulting.

"Have you ever prepared static defenses?"

The Minuteman blinked. "No…"

"How many times have you been in active combat situations?"

This time his eyes narrowed. "Plenty."

"Like last night?"

He hesitated for a few heartbeats before answering.

"Quincy."

So once and you weren't in charge. "You've been in one comparable situation." I grunted. "We're going to debrief this afternoon after cleanup is done." After that… I need to get back to the Railroad's hideout. Or contact them. I need to know if they're still safe.

And if they're on board.

"Debrief?"

"Analyze the mission, determine what was done right and what was done wrong. You, Anna, Sturges, Vincent, Alex, Owens, Nick, and Danse."

Preston paused again, this time with something new on his face. His features had gone stone still, and fire burned in his eyes "You wanna do that today? We haven't even gotten to bury the people who died and you wanna tell everyone what they did wrong?"

"Feeling sorry for yourself won't keep it from happening again."

"That's easy for you to say", he roared. "You aren't the one who got people killed! You show up and-"

"What?" I interrupted, voice low. What do I 'show up' and do? Kill things? Yeah, that's what I do. "You think I was born good at fighting? I've spent years getting my ass kicked. I've learned from those experiences. Ask any soldier who's good at what they do." It isn't just soldiers. Anyone good at what they do. "You're as good as your ability to learn and adapt. Ask Danse, or-"

Nate.

I faltered before I could say the ex-soldier's name. He has more experience than I do. More time at least.

What's his play here? Is he actually here to help?

"We're debriefing at 1400."

"Nate should be there", Preston said quietly. His voice had returned to its normal level. That didn't mean all the heat was gone.

"Why?"

"Because he helped. He warned us and told us how they'd attack." He cocked an eyebrow. "And you were going to say 'Nate', weren't you?"

My jaw set.

Having Nate at the debrief… would it hurt anything? He'd be privy to any tactical or strategic changes we make. That only matters if I ever let him get that information back to the Institute. Which is something I don't intend to let happen-

"Let me put it this way since you want me to lead the Minutemen", Preston continued, "I want him there."

If I insisted, I could probably get him to back off. He's right after all: he doesn't have the experience to lead this type of war. I don't want to run the Minutemen though, that isn't what I'm good at. If he can figure out what he's doing, Preston would be better suited for the job anyway. Most people would.

If Nate's there, I can pry answers out of him before having to resort to torture.

Why? Because I don't want to injure him?

And? That's always an option later.

If it turns out Nate's up to something again, there are other ways to prevent him from getting that information back to the Institute. And it confirms my suspicions.

"It's your call", I said as I shrugged.

He nodded. "Thanks."

If we're going to debrief, I needed more information about how this attack happened. Asking the settlers would help, but I'd like to put my eyes on the evidence first.

Preston turned to head back toward the center of the settlement. I left to climb back into the hills. The Synth's bodies were lying where they'd fallen. Most shot, a half dozen killed in close quarters. It's the second time I've made a killing field out of this area.

The laser weapons the Institute deployed might be useful. Ammunition was compact, but it wasn't readily available. Nor were parts to repair anything that may break.

But guns are valuable, especially if they're high quality and well maintained.

Problem is I don't have the expertise with laser weapons to determine if they are high quality or safe for us to use.

To that end, my next stop was Sturges' workshop.

The settlers I passed on my way still looked despondent. Most walked quickly with their heads down. Not only did they not make eye contact with me, which wasn't unusual, they avoided each other's eyes too either. The few children I saw were quiet. Instead of running through the settlement, they stuck close to the houses and out of the way. I caught the normal stares from them, but they weren't as… enthusiastic as before.

Were they all like Preston? Did they think they'd be ready for an attack like this? That they wouldn't lose anyone? They've been here for a few months. They've only been preparing to defend the settlement for half that time. How the hell could they'd make it out unscathed? I still didn't have a number for how many died, but it could have been a lot worse. That's something Preston should know from experience in Quincy.

Sturges was in the glorified shed he called a workshop. The engineer was welding what looked like an armored frame on his bench. I waited for the blindingly bright arc to disappear before approaching.

"Sturges", I called as I stopped just outside of the small structure. "The Institute left laser weapons on their dead. I don't have the experience with those weapons to evaluate them."

He pulled his welding helmet up as he turned to me. "They didn't take the guns with 'em? Smells weird."

I nodded. "That's what I'm worried about."

"Alright, one sec." He turned the welder off and set his helmet and gloves aside. "Pretty good timing on your part last night. Nate said he gave you a ring before gettin' here."

"He did", I replied.

Sturges stopped gathering tools to glance at me. "Any clue why he'd do that?"

"He wants something. Not sure what."

"Well duh, he wants something." The Synth set a small toolbag on the table and began placing implements in it. "You still don't want to trust him."

Well duh… "He did try to kill me."

"Damon", Sturges replied through snort. "A lot of people have tried to kill you."

"I don't make a habit of trusting them after that."

"Fair enough." He zipped the bag closed and lifted it from the table. "Lead the way."

We made our way back up the hill to the shack. Even with my NVS, it didn't do the pounding the small building had taken justice. Most of its northern facing wall was pockmarked with laser scoring. Most of the steel panels were partially melted, especially around the firing ports. It held up well though.

Three guards were standing on the 'porch'. They'd removed the bodies of the ones that died the night before, caught by surprise by the Institute. That needs to be fixed so it doesn't happen again.

"Huh", Sturges grunted. "That's what I was workin' on down there." He pointed back toward the settlement. "Wanted to install new ports with flaps, that way the people inside could button up if they need to."

It isn't an uncommon reinforcement. Armored firing ports would be a good idea.

"Looks like nothing got to the structure underneath." The engineer nodded approvingly. "A lot of this was Anna's work."

Admiring that work could come after we secure resources.

"Over here", I said, motioning to the side of the shack.

I felt the guards' eyes on my back as we walked to the small collection of neatly arranged laser weapons. They were probably watching my limp. I don't know if seeing I can be injured is a good or bad thing for them.

Sturges stopped over the confiscated weapons and set his toolbag down. "These are newer models." He picked one up and pointed to the front. "I'm not 100% sure about it, but these look like external focusing lenses. Looks like they're trying to up the penetration." He nodded. "Makes sense considering they're fighting the Brotherhood." The engineer's eyes wandered to the shack and its pockmarked armor. "Not sure how successful they'll be with 'em."

If it can't punch through the armor on that shack, it won't have much luck with power armor or Vertibirds.

There is something they have that has the penetration power to get through my soft armor though. It's probably what they used to take down the Vertibirds too unless they have more heavy ordinance they didn't bother bringing to this fight.

"They have something that will work", I said. "Shot me in the hip last night."

"Oh yeah?" Sturges frowned and turned to me. "I was wonderin' about that limp. They shot you with whatever this is?"

"Yes." I nodded. "Hypervelocity projectile, very small. "

There was a moment of relative quiet as the engineer paused, chewing on his lower lip. This isn't what I wanted to come up here for, but that may be something Sturges has knowledge of. It would be useful…

"Small, hypervelocity projectile. I doubt that's conventional then…" He trailed off and looked back down at the collection of laser rifles. "Y'know, before I left, they were prototyping small-scale gauss cannon applications. Hand-held Magnetic Accelerator Weapons. Could be one of those."

Hand-held MAC guns? The UNSC would like that. The smallest one they have deployed right now is the Warthog mounted M68 Gauss cannon.

He shrugged. "Dunno for sure. Right now… let's take a look at what you brought me."

As Sturges bent down to rifle through his bag he glanced over his shoulder at me. "Could you grab the table from the shack? Don't wanna take sensitive equipment apart in the dirt."

I did and, a few minutes later, he had the first laser rifle disassembled. I recognized a few components like the generator and focusing lenses, but most of it was alien.

"Yeah, these are definitely new." Sturges tapped on a component connected to the generator. "This looks like some sort of APU or… maybe an amplifier." He traced the wires coming out of it to the port where the shooter would insert fusion cells. "Seems like they aren't too concerned about capacity anymore. Not as much as they are punch. Wonder how they sorted the power management problem… Did they change the focus lens design? Is that why they have exterior lenses? If-"

"Sturges", I interrupted. The man would probably go on until the sun went down if I didn't. "Is this one clean?"

He frowned but nodded. "Yeah. Unless they're using trackers, bugs, or a bomb integrated into the components I'm seeing here, it's clean."

That's a possibility I hadn't considered.

"Can they do that?"

"Uh, yeah. These are the people who make artificial humans", the Synth motioned to himself.

That puts this idea out of commission. If they can wire these with monitoring devices and we can't tell, we can't use them.

They aren't very smart when it comes to most things, as I've discovered, but one thing I will say about the Institute is they're good with tech.

"Can't risk it then. We'll get rid of them."

Sturges didn't look happy about that. "There's so much I could learn and salvage from these… but if your concern is these might be dangerous to use, I don't have a way to guarantee they aren't." He looked back down at the disassembled rifle and sighed. "Alright… you got a point. Dammit."

Policing any weapons the Synths may have dropped on the south side of the river should be easy enough while I'm walking the perimeter.

If Preston wants to be in charge, maybe I ask if he wants some of the settlers to do it.

"We should take the fusion cells though", Sturges continued. "Those are always valuable. Great batteries and, if we get our hands on some laser weapons, we'll have ammo."

"Are those a risk?"

He shook his head as he held one up. "These are pretty hard to tamper with. They're safe for the most part, but they can get volatile real quick."

"Yeah", I said, amusement flickering in the back of my mind. "I've used them as breaching charges."

Sturges nodded. "Not surprised. They could do that."

"We need to collect and dispose of the weapons on the south end as well. Could you ask Preston if he's willing to spare some people to do that?"

"Sure", Sturges replied. "You got something else to do?"

I nodded. "Gather information for the debrief. This wasn't a major assault, but it still hurt. It can't be this easy to hit Sanctuary again."

The engineer grimaced as he looked down the hill toward the now bustling settlement. "You can say that again. 14 people. Knew every one of 'em. Everyone did." He turned to look back up at me. "While I appreciate you and Nate and Danse gettin' us across the line, eventually, we can't keep relying on you."

"Preston said the same thing." And it's true. I won't be able to defend them and, at some point, they may not have experienced combat veterans to lean on. If they want to survive this war, they need to be able to hold their own. "That's why I'm organizing a debrief. Next time has to be better."

Sturges nodded. "I can't agree with you more on that one. I'll break these down and we can burn them." He looked toward the dead Synths to the north. Only a few were visible. He shook himself. "It'll give me a chance to collect anything that might be useful. And not dangerous", he finished before I could object.

"That's fine."

As he headed back down to Sanctuary, I took a few more moments to study the forest around me. It was a difficult approach. Past the treeline, about 20 meters from the shack, the land was relatively flat for another few dozen. Visual cover was alright, but none of the trees were thick enough to stop anything larger than a handgun.

Even so, the Institute managed to tag three of the guards here before the fighting really got started. That's unacceptable. Seeding the area with traps, like I'd suggested for the Finches, would be a no-go. Too many animals, too much traffic, and they walk patrols. More watch positions might help, and changing some of the fortifications to this one wouldn't be a bad idea. Establishing more stringent protocols is also a must.

Something else I've failed to establish is QRF teams and protocols. The problem is they don't have many people so there will either only be a few teams, or there won't be many people on those teams. They could be subdivided for better coverage… Then again, there are only two primary points of egress. That makes things easier.

I started east, walking the same route I had on the way in. The Coursers' tracks were no different than they had been, so no one had come along this direction since last night.

Here's another area that needs improvement. If I'd been organizing this assault, I would have had a sniper team posted here or, if I have the right equipment and people, where I'd been. There were clear sightlines into the settlement and, without proper counters in place, would be the end of any defensive effort. The Institute was either too stupid or too arrogant to take advantage of it. Any well-trained force wouldn't be. Maybe they don't need to worry about Raiders, but the next time the Institute attacks they probably will and the Brotherhood won't miss it either.

The changes they'd made to the fortified wall were good. Assaulting from the water would be difficult if for no other reason than there are about 15 meters of open ground to cover all the way around.

Then there's the main arm of the Institute's assault.

My eyes drifted from the settlement to the south side of the river. It had been difficult to tell the exact number, but several dozen Synths had been in that assault. They'd tried to brute force their way across the bridge and it had cost them.

That's good. The problem is it also cost Sanctuary.

It really shouldn't have. The Institute didn't have significant sniper support, it didn't have a successful flank, but even with superior positions and advanced warning, 11 people died on this side. How the hell had they managed that?

I knew the answer before I asked myself the question: poorly trained, inexperienced fighters. Not landing enough shots. Spending too much time in one firing position. Moving in predictable patterns. Not having counter-offensive teams and QRFs established. The list goes on and on.

It's another thing I don't have much experience doing but plenty of experience fighting.

My mind flashed back to the Brotherhood's 'visit' to take Haylen. The settlers had been defiant. While a certain type of courage is necessary to do that, a lot of it was probably born of unearned confidence. It isn't how I'd want them to learn this lesson, I wish they could have been better prepared, but I don't think they'd react the same way now.

The Institute's offensive had been poorly planned and ineptly executed at best. I'd exposed a few weaknesses we'd worked on with my little mock attack, but that was a very specific, limited sort of assault. One they wouldn't be subject to by anyone here but me.

It was another failure on my part. I hadn't prepared them for the threats they'd be facing here.

This one was conventional. A bad conventional attack, but a conventional one. One that seemed like it was planned with the impression they'd be able to roll straight through. It's also possible the Institute was relying on their new favorite practice of teleporting forces directly into their enemy's position. Either way, there wasn't a backup plan for when they stalled.

Sanctuary's defenders held off the attack but, considering how incompetent it was, it should have been easy to repel. They had the jammers in place, they had the positions established, and they still lost a lot of people.

Did anyone I know die? There were so many new people in the settlement, I hadn't had a chance, or desire if I'm being honest, to meet them all.

This debrief is going to be harsh. They better be ready to take some criticism because we have a lot of work to do if they don't want to get swatted aside in this war.

It won't only be harsh for them though. Whatever blame I put on them for how poorly this went, I have to take on myself. Yes, Preston wanted to get involved in this fight, but I was the one who prepared them- tried to prepare them. I'd failed. 14 dead bodies were a testament to that. They aren't the only ones who have to do better. If I'm going to help them, I have to do better too.

More than 14 people will die next time if I don't.

Slipping down to the river, I waded across and onto the beach. As I emerged from the water, I spotted five people crossing the bridge. Maybe the detail Preston had dispatched to police the Institute weapons and equipment. It was always a shame to waste good firepower, but the risk the Institute had integrated something dangerous into the weapons was too high. If the Railroad intends to assist, we'll have plenty of high-quality firearms.

They noticed me and I got a few unenthusiastic waves, but nothing more.

It was odd, most of my career was spent alone. Even the time with Fourier's team was with SPARTANs. Morale, and its associated issues, isn't something I've been exposed to before.

This small settlement is a very different story. One assault in and their morale is in the gutter. Maybe they're realizing the confidence they had was unearned.

There's one way to fix that.

I nodded to myself.

As the small group started collecting equipment, I circled the area around them. 32 dead Synths. They were scattered around the beach, on the entrance to the bridge, and a few in the small gas station.

32. That's all the Institute lost. Numbers aren't everything in a fight like this, sure, but these guys were target practice. With the outpost holding the north side, and no sniper support, the settlers should have picked this force apart.

Most of the dead Synths were caught in the open: on the beach or between the few houses near it. Places they had no business being without the front of the settlement secured.

My position the night before had overlooked the east wing of the assault. The attackers I'd killed with the McMillan were easy enough to spot.

If studying the aftermath of this fight told me anything, it's that any competent force would have run through Sanctuary. While that's an issue, it also means we're fighting against a poorly prepared opposition. In the Institute, at least.

Walking back into town, I took another look at its fortifications. The raised platforms had been hit hard. That wasn't a surprise, but the armor-plating held up well. There was dimpling and laser scoring across its armored plates, but it didn't look like anything got through. Same went for the houses. The fortifications are there, they just need the important part now…

As I walked back toward the common house, I noticed Charlie in his usual area. Four of his planters had been knocked over, their contents spilling out into the street. Like always, he glared at anyone who came too close.

Despite his emaciated figure, he was struggling on his own to turn the wooden boxes back over.

Why was he so determined to do it himself? Other people have wanted to help since he first arrived in Sanctuary, so why struggle on his own? Especially considering his condition?

The image was sobering in the same way watching the settlers trudge around Sanctuary. Maybe even more so. He was fighting on his own when he didn't need to.

If I tried, he'd just start screaming again.

So I turned and continued toward the east end of the neighborhood.

Why? Why did he insist on doing that himself? And why does it bother me so much that he does?

X

Two men I didn't recognize joined the debrief. Preston informed me they were the ones Dez had sent with him to track down the mole. I wanted to be impressed they'd done so in such a short time, but the list of possibles wasn't very long.

"There are a lot of things we failed on", I said as we gathered around the table in the armory. I was reminded it was Nate's house before the war, again, when I watched the ex-soldier enter. He did his best to hide it, but I didn't miss the glances around the small house as the others streamed in.

"That assault was poorly planned, executed worse, and we still lost 14 people."

Silence spread around the room as I spoke. Preston and Owens were staring at the ground between their feet. Alex looked angry. Vincent was rolling a finger through his beard. Sturges and Anna each had a small book that looked like they were for taking notes. Danse, Nate, and the two Railroad operatives were watching me.

No objections, no indignation, no argument. It was a good start.

I walked through what I'd observed both the night before and that morning. As I started breaking down the arms of the Institute's attack, I was taken back to countless times I was the one being lectured. There weren't many failed objectives, but there had been mistakes.

It wasn't complicated; they'd planned for three prongs, the settlement's preparations had eliminated one before the fighting started. That's where the good news ended. There were a few quiet objections, and plenty of uncomfortable stares, as I pointed out failures of both Sanctuary's fortifications and fighters.

Those objections stayed quiet. Everyone knew this was a failure. Everyone here (at least the ones who live in Sanctuary) knew the people who died.

"Damon… these people aren't soldiers", Alex said as I finished. Her voice was uncharacteristically subdued. "Yes, everyone here has fired a gun before because that's how you survive in the Commonwealth, but-"

"This is a war", I interrupted. My eyes drifted from her to Preston, and back. "I didn't want to involve you but you were right. It was going to happen regardless. Not everyone needs to fight but, if you want to survive this, everyone needs to be prepared."

More silence.

"I warned you about this the first night I was here."

But…

"But this is on me, too. I didn't prepare you for this kind of attack. I should have done a better job."

"Alex", Nate said, voice soft, "this is difficult for everyone, but it isn't an attack." His eyes were fixed on me. "The people who are going to fight need to be ready to do it. They need to be competent. If they aren't you're going to lose more people and, if whoever is attacking is good enough, Sanctuary."

What, he's trying to run interference now? He should know platitudes don't mean a damn thing when people die. Besides, it rings hollow coming from him.

Leave it alone. I have a job to do.

"If anyone with significant combat experience planned that attack, this place wouldn't have held", I continued. "We need to make changes."

"So what are you proposing we do?" Vincent asked, still fidgeting with his beard.

"Improve fortifications and training." Everything, basically. "Start with secondary watch positions in the hills and better floodlighting."

"Another shack?" Anna asked.

"Two would be better. They need to be independently supplied; extra weapons, ammo, meds, food, and water."

The engineer nodded. "I should be able to gather the supplies and start construction by day after tomorrow. We should limit work to daylight. We know how to build 'em from the first one. It'll be a week to make each." She looked at Sturges. "We'll need power, that line we ran for the one we got won't support two more."

"Right. Might wanna run a larger one from the generator…" he trailed off, frowning. "Or we could tap into the Vault's grid." Sturges shook his head. "We can figure that out later."

Preston grunted. "What else?"

"Counter-sniper tactics", I continued. "Determine what positions a sniper would use to hit Sanctuary and plan for those."

The discussion on improving fortifications continued for the better part of half an hour. Most of it was between Anna, Sturges, Preston, and Vincent. It went from more, improved elevated firing positions, to alarm systems, and remote fire emplacements. It seems like this type of conversation is something they're interested in.

That interest dried up as soon as I moved the conversation to improving the quality of fighters.

"None of this means anything if combat proficiency doesn't improve. Both sides of this assault should have been target practice. If training doesn't improve, the next time someone attacks will be worse."

Able, a tall, lanky man with short brown hair, stepped forward. "We have some pretty good quick reaction teams." He shrugged, slender shoulders barely visible under his oversized jacket. "I can't tell you if Dez will agree to help but we have the resources."

That's helpful, but it leaves a massive hole. "How do you train new combatants?"

"Usually takes a few months. Don't think we have that kind of time."

"We have experience fighting", Preston interjected. It was the first time he'd spoken since the debrief started. It was almost indignant.

Turning this into an argument wouldn't be productive. However, letting him live under the delusion what they've done to this point is anything more than the basics would be worse. That's something else I missed on. "The wrong kind of experience. Fighting small groups of disorganized Raiders isn't enough for what's coming."

The room grew silent again. Preston looked like he wanted to retort, but last night's attack was all the evidence he needed. This isn't what they're used to.

"Let's slow down a bit folks", Nick's scratchy, slightly distorted voice broke through the silence. He said it as though he wasn't sure exactly how to approach this. "I don't think Damon means to say we haven't been through anything. I think what he's sayin' is this kind of fighting's different." He looked at me. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

The ragged Synth nodded. "We all know he sucks at this sorta thing. Emotions are running high, we all lost people last night, but this is him trying to help us. If we don't want to lose more, maybe we should listen to the people who have the experience we need." He motioned to Nate, Danse, and I.

Speaking of experience…

I turned to Nate. "How will the Institute adapt?"

"How-" The ex-soldier looked like he'd been caught off-guard by the question. "Same way we're doing now. We had debriefs after every mission." He smirked. "Took away one of their best tools. Isaiah is one of the best they had. Brought him with us."

My eyes narrowed. Did he think I asked what they'd physically do to review the mission?

"What changes will they make?"

"More support positions: snipers, counter teams, more complex deployment. They thought their ambushes down south would keep you in check long enough to break through Sanctuary's defenses." He snorted. "Ayo thought they'd be enough to kill you."

"They shot me again." I motioned to my right hip. The minuscule hole in the undersuit wasn't there anymore, but the damaged tissue was.

The ex-soldier blinked. "Considering how many resources they fielded…"

While my next question was probably better asked in private, everyone here deserves to know who they're working with. "Were you part of planning this attack?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in the man's answer. I was almost surprised, but the levelheaded gaze he met my eyes with was… disarming. Everyone else's eyes were on him an instant later. Nate didn't seem concerned; his never left me. He was a very different person from the one who showed up last night.

He's gonna say he did it to help us.

"You already know why", he continued, talking directly to me.

"I want to hear it."

The ex-soldier huffed. "The more I knew, the better I'd be able to plan a defense. The idea to rely on teleporting people directly into the perimeter was also my idea. Holding Coursers back as rear guards to defend against you making it away from the ambushes was me too."

Sturge's eyes widened a fraction. "You knew about our jammers?"

"No", Nate replied, shaking his head, "but it didn't take us long to figure out the Brotherhood wasn't jamming our teleporters in that hospital. If Damon knew how to do it, we assumed he would tell you."

He held back their best combat units and compromised their perimeter assault by focusing on a tactic he knew wouldn't work. Smart. But it isn't difficult enough, or costly enough, to convince me this isn't part of a longer plan.

What that might be, I don't know.

"Alright", Preston said, holding his hands up to stop any replies. "This isn't what we're here to talk about but I'm gonna ask since Damon isn't: why should we trust you?"

"I-" he faltered and, for the first time, his eyes flashed with the same uncertainty they had last night. "I don't have an answer. You barely know me, haven't seen me in months, and the last thing you heard about me was I betrayed Damon. I'm not arrogant enough to ask for your trust, all I want is the chance to earn it." His eyes found my visor. "Again."

"Don't look at me for forgiveness." That isn't a strong suit either.

A sad smile flashed across his face. "I know." He turned back to the others, all of whom were still looking at him. "I'm here to do anything you need me to."

"Is that so", Nick grunted, glancing at me. "Well let's start here: what do you think about Damon's changes?"

I cocked my head at the detective. Where is he going with this?

The ex-soldier took a deep breath before answering. "It covers most of what the Institute might do… I don't know how long it will take them to defeat whatever jammers you're using, but as long as they don't do that and these changes are implemented quickly it should work. They're working with conventional knowledge. The people in the Institute are smart but they don't think in unconventional tactics. The only thing I'm worried about is, now they don't have much experience, they'll try something ridiculous."

That is a legitimate concern. There are times inexperience can be the most dangerous weapon available. An inexperienced person doesn't know the rules, doesn't know what things traditionally work and what don't. That means they'll try things they shouldn't, which means it's unexpected.

It's something I've always tried to incorporate into my planning.

"Well, for now, let's work with what we've got", Nick replied and turned back to me. "What do you think, tin man? Start in Sanctuary and work our way out?"

"Yes." I turned to Able. "If we get cooperation from the Railroad.

The Railroad agent nodded. "If we get back to the Railroad tomorrow, we should have an answer the day after. If it's a yes, we'll get started immediately."

"I can help train", Danse said. The words came out low and hesitant like he wasn't sure he wanted to offer.

Nate nodded. "We can too."

We? His people weren't experienced but if I knew the man, he'd trained them during his time in the Institute. That doesn't mean they'd be effective, but at the very least they've been exposed to static defense.

Then there's the question of who was offering. Danse I still have my doubts about. Nate though, 'doubts' doesn't do it justice.

What harm would it do? If Danse is helping and if Dez agrees to send people to train them, it isn't like he'd get away with teaching them incorrectly.

Letting the ex-soldier into the debrief had already been a stretch, but giving him access to people, to their training? Just like his knowledge of the Institute's attack, he'd know how the settlers and, eventually, the rest of the Minutemen would fight. That's giving the Institute-

"Nate", Preston said slowly, eyes still fixed on me, "I appreciate the offer, but I think we'd like to get to know you a little better before taking you up on it."

At least he understood my reservations enough to not accept outright.

The ex-soldier didn't seem discouraged. "I understand. We're here to do whatever you need us to."

"I appreciate that."

We have an objective and a plan. There are still too many question marks for my liking but, hopefully, Sanctuary would be better prepared for another attack. More importantly, the people will be. That's something we need to spread to the rest of the settlements, and anyone else who joins the Minutemen.

And it needs to happen fast. There's no way of knowing when this war will get started for real. The Institute and Brotherhood are feeling each other, and me, out. With Nate 'defecting', that puts the Institute in a difficult position, and with Danse missing, the Brotherhood has the same problem. Raiders moving in from the north, which might be where Maxson has his force diverted, complicates things.

There's something I'm failing to take into account: Diamond City and Goodneighbor. There are other large settlements in the city, but with almost 2000 people between those two, they're major players and could tilt the field.

Same with Supermutants…

One step at a time.

"Any questions?" I asked.

Preston, Alex, Vincent, and Owens were still hesitant, but these things need to happen. While it may have been a bit harsh, I meant what I said. They wanted this and it's too late to turn back now. The Institute and the Brotherhood both know they're involved with me. That means, eventually, another attack will happen.

With their informant captured and no longer reporting back, that may be sooner than later.

Unless they think he died in the fighting.

I need to talk with Danse before leaving for the Railroad.

Sturges shifted. "Do you got any idea when they might attack again?" The question was directed at Nate.

"No", the ex-soldier replied. "I don't think it will be soon though. Two and a half weeks of planning went into the last three days. A lot of their objectives were accomplished, but he", Nate nodded at me, "is still in play and Sanctuary was a harder target than they thought."

Again, I didn't want to believe him, but his logic was sound. That had me even more on edge.

"Alright people", Preston said after a few more moments of silence, "we know what we have to do. Let's get started." He tried to sound confident but it was a little too much, voice a little too loud. I've heard it from inexperienced ranking officers before, especially when they tried to pull rank with SPARTANs.

There were a few… amusing incidents once I was reassigned to SPARTAN OPs. One in particular involving Fourier and a relatively young, and new, Lieutenant Major. The woman was red-faced screaming at him within two minutes. Her assistant had to walk her out after she started drawing a crowd.

This wasn't amusing though. Someone needs to be able to take charge of this settlement and the Minutemen in general. I don't know if that person is Preston, but we need to find out fast.

As the others began filing out, I motioned for Danse to remain behind. The former Paladin stayed by the table and, once it was only the two of us, he cleared his throat.

"You're putting a lot on their plate."

"We don't have a choice now."

He nodded. "Yes, but they are just settlers. You aren't dealing with a-"

"No", I interrupted. He was going to say I'm not dealing with an experienced group. He's right, they aren't experienced in warfare, but they are experienced in surviving and adapting. I don't know if they'll be able to adapt to this fast enough to be effective. The people with the best shot are the original group that came here.

"When I found Preston and his people, they'd been chased out of Quincy by the Gunners and run from there to Concord with Raiders on their asses. They'd killed a quarter of the Raiders before I got there. They're resilient."

Danse cocked an eyebrow at me. "They seem discouraged."

There was no arguing with that.

"We'll see."

"And if they can't adapt?"

"Then they'll die." As harsh as that sounds, it's how things work: adapt or die. They know that rule now, no point in lying about it.

"What will you do if that happens?" The Synth asked.

Why do you care? "What I always have."

He grunted but didn't offer a retort. "I assume you wanted to discuss what I've learned from the informant, Collins." I nodded. "As far as I can tell, he was posted here the same way we- they put people in every strategically relevant settlement. It wasn't until he got here he realized you were here. He arrived after we did so it doesn't appear he knew Haylen was working with you."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. That means Haylen may reintegrate with the Brotherhood. It's possible I can get Julian back.

"I have a request", Danse continued. The way the words dropped from his mouth, as if they were lead blocks, made it sound like asking me for something was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

"Yes?"

"He is young and idealistic. I will continue talking with him, but you aren't going to torture him."

That doesn't sound like a request. As with Preston, I don't have any real control over the man. He technically doesn't have to ask me to do anything, but I guess I've found myself in a position of de facto authority.

Not sure how I feel about that yet.

"As long as it doesn't compromise our efforts."

"Right…" He frowned. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Have you figured out what you're going to do?"

He nodded. "I don't agree with your objective of destroying the Brotherhood. I still believe there are people in it and things they stand for that are worthy of merit." The Synth paused, glancing out the door into Sanctuary. "But maybe they're wrong about a few things too."

"Does that mean you're agreeing to Haylen's idea?"

"Yes."

The former Paladin's eyes drilled into me with the same focus and intensity I'd felt through his helmet the first time we met in Cambridge. Damn… a few months felt like a lifetime.

"Good. We'll put a plan together when I get back."

Danse nodded again and turned to leave.

How have things gotten this complicated? Less than a month ago I was operating on my own, planning how to destroy the Brotherhood and Institute. Now here I am, trying to restart a failed community. Not only that, but I'm preparing them to fight a war.

"Asking how you got somewhere is a useless question. You should be asking what you're gonna do now."

That was one of my drill instructor's favorite lines.

Thanks Katrina…

As I followed Danse out of the house-turned-armory, I took another deep breath.

What am I gonna do now?

Keep adapting. I need to be in the field planning and fighting. It's what I do best. There are people better suited than me to handle leadership and logistics.

Charlie was still outside the common house, three of the four planters that had been knocked over still on their sides. Every person who walked by the frail-looking teenager stole glances at him, including the younger kids. He was struggling with the second large wooden box. It had been emptied of its contents, but the planter probably weighed 50 kilos. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if that's as much as him.

I stood at the house's entrance watching him strain against the box. It would move and begin tipping just as he ran out of strength.

Yet no one stopped to help. Were they afraid of him? If he yelled at me, he probably did the same to everyone else.

No, the furtive looks sent his way were concern, not fear. They felt bad for him.

Why? Why was he so goddamned determined to do it himself? He's weak and dying. All the guy's doing is speeding up the process.

What if that's what he wants? He lost everything, didn't he? He knows he's gonna die.

So? This would be going better, he'd be accomplishing more if he'd just let people help. Charlie knows what he's doing growing those plants. Yes, the settlers have been getting assistance from the Finches, but it would be more useful to have someone in Sanctuary who could teach people. He'd be more useful if he just accepted some goddamn help.

As I watched, the bone-thin teenager slipped off of the planter he was pushing against and dropped to the dirt ground beneath him. A strangled yelp accompanied it.

Half a dozen settlers hesitated, one started toward him-

"I'm fine!", he shouted.

Like hell.

The others began walking away, each of them still staring at Charlie. He was struggling to stand again.

Why am I so irritated? Whatever the kid does isn't any of my business, Sanctuary has enough food without him.

My feet were carrying me toward him before I realized it. By the time I got within 10 yards, he was staring at me. When he realized I was heading toward him he started shouting again.

"Get outta here, I don't need your help!"

I didn't stop.

"Don't touch my plants! They're mine! I can do this! I-" his voice broke in a pained grunt.

Once I reached the first planter, I flipped it upright.

And the second.

As I went to grab the last wooden planter, I found Charlie standing in front of it.

"Leave. Me. Alone."

"You've been trying to turn those over since this morning", I said. "Are you gonna keep doing it until you hurt yourself?"

His eyes narrowed. "Who the hell cares? You? How would you know what it's like?"

Why does that matter? "I don't."

There was a pause like Charlie expected me to say more. What else was I supposed to say? I don't know. Others were watching us; I felt their eyes on my back. It wasn't important. For some reason, this sickly teenager was.

"So then why are you helping?"

Why am I helping? Why am I helping?

"Because you need it."

He balled his bony, frail hands into fists. Both of his arms were shaking. "I don't need anyone's help. This is what my family does. I can do it on my own."

This is what I do. I blinked. This is what I do.

Before I could form a reply, someone placed a hand on my shoulder.

"C'mon Damon, let's give him some space." Beside me, Nick was looking at Charlie, facsimile of a face unreadable. "Do your thing, Charlie. We'll get outta your hair."

The detective pulled on my shoulder, but I didn't move. Get out of his hair? This kid's gonna kill himself over these damn plants because he doesn't want help. Why?

As the pull became more insistent, I turned and followed Valentine away from the planters. Eyes from all around were glued on me again.

Maybe if some of you did more to help, he wouldn't act like that.

"Sometimes you just gotta let people be", the Synth said as we left the ring of people that had formed.

Why? He would be more useful if he let people help if he taught more people how to farm. All he's doing is accelerating his own death.

"He's going to kill himself."

Valentine shrugged. "Maybe that's the point." He glanced up at me. "He did lose everything." His glowing, inhuman eyes bored into my visor. "Sound familiar?"

A kid who's lost everything, waiting to die. Yeah, I see the parallels. My situation has changed.

"What's your point?"

The detective rolled those inhuman eyes. "I shoulda figured." He drew to a stop beside a house with faded brown paint. "You do the same thing. I get what you were tryin' to say in there, but folks would be a lot more receptive if you were better at it."

I'm not better at it. I said what needs to happen if they want to survive.

"I know, you don't have to say it", the Synth said, waving a hand to stop my response. "You could ask for help. And not just here either. A lot of the people here might not be great at fighting, but they can help you out there." He swept a hand toward the wasteland around us. "Don't gotta run around all on your own."

Fighting on my own? If I have to drag people along and babysit them in a fight, that would make me more likely to die. "I've fought on my own for a long time."

"It isn't about fighting. Just about fighting, anyways." He folded his arms. "I've been thinking… We've been so worried about us here and the likes of the Institute and Brotherhood, we haven't given much thought to the other big players."

So he'd been thinking about them too. "Diamond City and Goodneighbor."

Nick shook his head. "Not just them. You got Bunker Hill, the high school, and an entire underground network. There are a few thousand people in Boston. Could be a massive help if we get some of them on board."

That's true. Getting any significant portion of them would be unlikely but it's impossible to tell out here what their opinions of the Brotherhood are. "What are you suggesting?"

"Well… It's been a little while since I've been that way, I was thinkin' about popping into my old stomping grounds and saying hello."

He's saying other people, him, could help me with diplomacy? That wasn't news to anyone. The larger question is Diamond City and his wanting to go.

"What happens when the Brotherhood captures you?"

"I've heard enough about their relationship with Diamond City. They don't like each other anymore." He smiled. "I think that little stunt they pulled with you was a one-off."

'That little stunt'? The ambush?

"It's still a risk."

The Synth grunted. "And here to go again. You don't get to make all the decisions on your own either."

"What did you say about trusting experience?"

"You know what I mean", Valentine said.

I glanced at Charlie. He was still struggling with the last planter. "Do you think I'm wrong?"

"… No. Do you think I am?"

Is he wrong about me making decisions on my own? I'd like to say 'it's gotten me this far' but there's a problem. 'This far' amounts to 14 people dead, a poorly prepared settlement, and a bunch of others who have next to no preparations. If the question is my position personally… that one's more complicated.

"No", I replied. "We both think communicating with other large settlements is a good idea. My strong suit isn't verbal communication so other people need to come."

Valentine nodded. "I can agree on that."

"Then we need to decide on who's coming with me."

"Hmm." The detective adjusted his hat. "Got a few ideas. I'll need to run them by boss man."

The smile he shot me was disconcerting. "What are you thinking, Valentine?"

"Don't worry about it." He looked at Charlie who had finally managed to get the planter's die off the ground. It wasn't upright yet, but he was getting there. "Kid puts his harvest in the house without saying a word. Never eats any of it. Best crops we've got. Most people try to look out for him however they can. No matter how he acts, he's been here longer than most people, and he still does good by the rest of us." The smile faded. "Even if it's all he can do anymore."

If I didn't know better, I'd have thought Valentine was the one dying from radiation poisoning.

"I got a question for you", the Synth asked

That's a surprise… I motioned for him to continue.

"What do you plan on doing with Nate?"

"I don't know yet." I shrugged. "Still not sure what his play is."

Valentine frowned. "Play? What do you think he's up to?"

"A lot of possibilities." I shrugged again.

"You don't think you're a little biased?"

Biased? Yeah, I'm biased. The guy tried to kill me.

That isn't a reason to let that interfere with my decision-making. Not if I'm going to do things right.

So what am I supposed to do?

Get help from someone who isn't biased.

I blinked. "I need to talk with Perkins."

"Ellie?" the Synth asked, cocking the area an eyebrow should have been at me. "What for?"

"Nate."

The curious frown turned into one of understanding as he realized what I was asking.

"She's in the office." He waved toward their makeshift agency.

Sanctuary was still bustling with activity as I followed Valentine. There was only one place the settlers didn't go: a 5-meter bubble around Charlie. The last planter was upright, finally. The crops the others were growing looked healthy, fruit hanging from most of them. As usual, no one moved to help the frail, sickly kid. He never looked up from his work.

Something twinged in my stomach as I walked.

"Sad story", Valentine said. I glanced at him to see the detective following my gaze back to the solitary kid. "Don't blame him though. Susan thinks he's got another month at best and all he has left are those plants. Ellie's tried plenty to get him to talk but… I don't know, I just think the world did the poor kid in."

Some settlers nodded as we passed, some deliberately averted their eyes, and some didn't try to hide their stares. Many of them were in curiosity or awe but plenty of others weren't.

It was almost easier to understand the ones who were sending disdainful looks my way. If I hadn't come back, hadn't gotten involved with them, the Institute probably wouldn't have attacked. Not yet at least.

Preston is right, they would have had to have gotten involved in the fighting at some point regardless of me. The question is would it have been as bad.

The answer was easy: no.

But that wasn't the majority of the looks I got. Two younger kids even stopped to gawk at me as Valentine led me to the door to his office.

I don't know if they trust me, but it seems like they think I did something extraordinary last night. Maybe I did, but the expression on their faces reminded me too much of how SPARTANs are treated in the UNSC and by the general populace.

That kind of awe and admiration doesn't help anyone.

"Ellie!" Valentine called into the house as we entered, "your favorite tin man's here to ask you something!"

When I ducked through the door, the expression that greeted me, or more likely, Nick was one of exasperation.

"You just can't help yourself can you."

The detective shook his head. "It's why you can't get enough of me, right?"

"It's why you'd be screwed if I ever left."

"That just means we were meant for each other."

She grimaced. "You wish." Her face cleared after a moment and she met my gaze. "What's up?"

"Nate", I replied. "I want your opinion on him."

Perkins cocked an eyebrow at me. "Do I need to start charging you for my services?" The question was sarcastic. I think.

"I can't approach the situation objectively."

"Yep", Valentine said, nodding. "He thinks Nate might be trying to pull one over on us."

"What, exactly, do you want from me?" Perkins asked.

"To see if you can figure out what he's doing here. If he's here to do something for the Institute."

The room's other two occupants exchanged a short glance. They both looked skeptical but, after a moment, Ellie nodded.

"You don't trust him, I don't blame you for that but…" she trailed off. It wasn't hard to imagine she was going to say something about forgiveness or understanding. If he wants either of those things, Nate can go somewhere else. I'm here to get a job done and he doesn't need to be happy for me to do that.

"He has the ear of the Railroad and whoever is working with us in the Institute. It may be a good idea to work with him."

While both of those things are true, that doesn't mean he isn't still working for Shaun.

Or being exploited by him.

"Whether I do that depends on what you find."

Perkins frowned. "Of course it does."

She didn't seem happy about the request. Does she not want to do it?

"Do you have an objection?"

"Ellie's good with people", Valentine said before she could respond, "but she doesn't like being used as a go-between. I found that out the hard way early on…"

The secretary nodded. "I can do this but you need to be the one who decides what to do next. Whatever it is, I won't do it for you."

There was steel in her voice I hadn't heard before. Whatever this was, the issue sounds like it goes deeper than my request.

"Fine."

She nodded again. "Good. I'm taking a break right now, but I need to be back to helping clean up in a little while. I'll find him tonight."

"I'll be gone for a few days. Need to see what the Railroad's status is."

"Then we gotta talk about what to do with the other settlements."

The exasperated frown spread across Perkins' face again. "You need to talk about it with Preston, Nick. This is more than your decision."

The Synth grunted. "You're right. Damon already shut my idea down. He has one of his own now."

"Good." She shrugged. "Means it came from someone with half a brain."

Valentine mocked a hurt expression. "Hey, just because I don't have a real brain doesn't mean I don't have a brain."

I need to find Able and Victor.

"I'll find you when I get back", I said, turning to leave.

"Yeah, yeah", Perkins said, "don't be too alarmed if this oaf is missing when you do."

"Threats aren't very nice", the detective retorted.

Once I left the house, I ignored the rest of the conversation. Those two are odd, when Valentine had been captured, Perkins looked devastated. When they're working on something together, they're incredibly competent.

But when they aren't… It's like they enjoy pestering each other.

Reminds me of Fourier and Liam. The two of them were constantly at each other's throats during PT and combat training.

They're also an incredibly competent duo in combat.

It didn't take long to find the two Railroad operatives. They were sitting together in the common house, eating. Another settler was with them. I think his name was Carter. The one I'd almost strangled my first night back during the 'demonstration'.

"We're packed and ready to leave whenever you are", Victor said. He was almost the opposite of his counterpart: short and stock, he was built like a brick.

"What protocols do you have in place for a situation like this?"

"Secure channel we use only in case of emergency", the Railroad member replied. "We don't use it often. The more we do, the more samples we give to the Institute, the faster they crack our security."

That seemed reasonable. Does Glory have a radio that can access that channel?

It isn't important. If she did, she chose not to use it for a reason. Given the circumstances, I would have agreed laying low was the best option.

"Do you have an observation period?" It would be surprising, and a massive oversight, if the Institute didn't have recon forces watching Sanctuary.

Able nodded. "We do. And a few other things I'd rather not discuss. The Institute knows about our secure channel."

Smart.

"I'm ready to move."

"Alright then", Able said, standing and picking up whatever he'd been eating. "It was good talking with you, Carter. If we get the go-ahead, I'll consider the offer."

The still seated man nodded once, eyes drifting from the operative to me. I don't know what his request, or offer, was but I guess it isn't really my concern.

We weaved through the busy settlement toward the front gate-

Nate and the woman who had been with him- Jessica- were at it.

What the hell do they want?

"Damon, before you say I'm not coming, I'm not here to ask", Nate said as I stopped in front of him. "Jesse wants to. You can radio ahead, this has already been cleared between Li and Desdemona."

It's already been cleared? Why? What does she have that's valuable to the Railroad?

The woman was wearing the same thick, dark jacket she had been the night before with cargo pants and combat boots. She also had one of the satchels I've seen laying in the armory slung over a shoulder. No weapons though.

"Why?"

"Because a friend of mine is with them", Jessica replied tersely as though it pained her to part with that information. "Someone I haven't seen in a few years."

So they want me to bring a tagalong for a friendly reunion? We're dealing with the Institute, not some gang of Raiders.

"You aren't well trained or experienced. We will be tracked by the Institute and I don't trust either of you."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "I've been training for the last two months. I've been in the field four times. I might not be you, but I'm not new."

Four times? I almost laughed.

"Did Dez agree to you coming under these circumstances?"

"She also has information they'd appreciate having", Nate interjected. He sounded defensive. The ex-soldier had trained her…

"We can deliver it."

Jessica shook her head. "I go or it doesn't get to them."

No, I'm not having my hand forced like this again. "Then they don't get it. Move."

Nate rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that wasn't going to work. Alright, before this gets any worse, it's new secure comms Li sent with us to give to the Railroad."

I held out a hand. "I can deliver it." It could be a trick, but we can take a look at whatever equipment they have before going to the Railroad.

"Wait a minute Damon", Able said as stepped forward. "Who do you want to see in the Railroad?"

"Oscar. He- he was one of the Synths who worked in the daycare when I was younger. He taught me in school too." The young woman's face softened. "I didn't understand when he disappeared, but when Madison recruited me, I learned he'd left with the Railroad. Dez told me he's still working with you."

"How old are you?" Able asked.

"24."

There was a moment of silence as the operative studied Jessica. I couldn't tell whether she was lying but, considering he specialized in counter-intelligence, Able probably could.

Hopefully.

Eventually, the tall, slender man shrugged. "Oscar is with us and the times check out." He turned to me. "If it's been cleared with Dez, I don't have a problem with it."

If Dez cleared it… "We ask about it when we contact them." I met Jessica's gaze. "Like I said: the Institute will be tracking us, probably with Coursers. Don't jeopardize safety and follow orders. Understood." The only response I got was a curt nod. "Let's go."

X

Our pace was decent, especially considering we had a newcomer tagging along. Someone who, by her own admission, had only been out of four operations before this. She was attentive, quiet, and moved quickly without making much noise. The footprints we were leaving behind in the dry dirt would be impossible to cover though. If Coursers are adept field trackers, which I have to assume they are, that could prove to be an issue.

When we stopped for a short break about an hour and a half into the journey, I asked Able what their protocols for that are.

"You didn't notice on your way in the first time?" the operative asked, voice barely above a whisper. He had a smirk on his face that, for some reason, annoyed me.

"No."

"We have patrols constantly walking the area in random patterns and directions. There are so many footprints, it would take an extremely lucky guess for someone to follow the right set. Even then, we have some countermeasures for uninvited guests." He glanced at his watch. "We've got another half hour until we contact them. Let's keep moving."

A few moments later, we were slipping through the forest again. Just like the first time, we gave the clearer area to the south near Concord a wide berth. No reason to expose ourselves more than we need to.

Several times, I'd break from the group and circle them, searching the area around us for signs of a tail. It was mostly wishful thinking on my part since Coursers were, supposedly, skilled trackers with active camo. Marching through the forest performing my normal routines didn't feel like it was thorough enough though.

That being said, I didn't find anything. Nothing that could be considered definite signs of a tail anyway. The only one I could trust with any confidence would be footprints and I didn't see fresh sets besides ours.

It had me even more on edge. I can only think of two reasons I couldn't find anything: they weren't following us for some reason, or they were keeping a wide perimeter around us.

If they weren't following us… does that mean they're re-evaluating their plans? They have to know I'm involved with the Railroad and, even if they didn't, tailing me would be the right thing to do. Wouldn't it?

There was no way to be sure, especially with the curveballs the Institute has been throwing at me recently.

As frustrating as it was, I'd have to trust the Railroad's protocols. They've been at odds with them for a long time. Maybe I just need to trust they'll work.

I hate doing that.

Half an hour later, Able signaled me to stop. "I need five minutes", he whispered.

It allowed me to do another sweep.

Slipping through the thinning trees, undergrowth, and mostly dead grass, I still found nothing to suggest we had a tail. The Coursers aren't that good, are they? Combat is one thing, they're more effective than most people, but this type of tracking is another. Augmentations and fancy armor don't help much. It's how well trained, patient, and disciplined the tracker is. If those Synths are programmed as well as Ayo bragged to track escaped Synths down, it's possible.

When I returned, Able was slipping a radio back into his bag. "We're cleared, the other group has already returned. Oscar confirmed Jesse's story."

All of that was… good information, but not the question that was occupying my mind.

"Is there any reason the Institute wouldn't be tracking us?"

The Railroad operative pursed his lips for a moment, eyes searching the forest around us. "I can think of a few. They tried that when we were back in the church. This is a different setup, but they've lost plenty of units to us before. They want to find us, but it's also possible they don't want to risk any more losses after the last few nights. From what I've heard, they attacked you, the Brotherhood, Cambridge, and Sanctuary. That's a lot of resources."

Those are all things I've considered, but it doesn't take more than a few reconnaissance units to follow us.

"How do you normally catch tails?"

Able smiled again. "How do you catch anything?" He motioned at himself. "Bait."

Bait? There's no way they have enough people to set up catch nets around their base of operations… Unless returning squads have designated approaches and the patrols know where they are.

Huh. If that's the case, maybe I'm not giving the Railroad enough credit.

Alright. "Jessica is cleared?"

"Yes", the woman said while glaring daggers at me.

I looked at Able and he nodded.

"Let's keep moving."

As the sun drifted down toward the horizon, casting long, oranging shadows through the trees, I found myself asking questions I'd rather not.

Nate.

What is he up to? No, I'm not good at reading people. While I have plenty of experience in clandestine operations, I don't have any in the maneuvering that came before and after them. He's a clever son of a bitch.

But I can't think of anything that's raised a red flag so far and that irritates me. Yes, it's irrational, but I want him to do something that gives me an excuse. I want him to show his hand. It's, probably, purely because I want a reason to pay him back. That's emotional. That's unhelpful to the operation.

It didn't matter though. Even if there'd been some underlying sympathy for the ex-soldier and that's why I let him live in the hospital, now is different. Now he's back out in the Commonwealth. Not just anywhere either, he's in Sanctuary. He came to the place I've decided to help.

More than that, he did it on purpose. He said he hadn't known whether I'd be there or not, but I find that hard to believe given the information the Institute had.

Or maybe he'd meant he didn't know I'd physically be there at that point. I don't know. I can't trust him though and that makes this complicated.

Just before the sun touched the horizon, I recognized the clearing I'd been 'greeted' by the Railroad a few days ago. This time no large-caliber rifles were waiting for me as we walked.

"Stop here", Able said as we reached the far end. We were only a few minutes from the bunker, is this where their catch net was set up?

We waited quietly, crouched in a small collection of trees, as the sun continued its journey to the horizon. As it was, the forest already blocked out most of the light so, as it continued to descend, it didn't get much darker.

Ten minutes into our wait, a low click came from Able's bag and he waved for us to continue.

It wasn't much longer before the hill, and bunker, emerged from the darkness in front of us. It was quiet, unguarded. Or that's the way it looked. I'd be surprised if they didn't have guards hidden around the entrance. There was no shortage of good places to take position along the rocky hillside above and the forest around us. Hell, you could hide a few platoons out here without anyone noticing if you did it right.

I took a deep breath. A lot of what the Minutemen are trying to do relies on the answer I'm about to get from Dez. The last few days were a mess so it would be understandable if she turned my offer down.

That being said, if she did, it would make my life a lot more complicated.

But I'd survive, adapt, and move on if it came to that.

It is what I do after all.

A/N: This chapter was longer than I intended it to be. That's mostly because I didn't want to end on another cliffhanger again. That would have been douchey. No, instead I continued on. Like I said, things are about to get complicated. So we've reached that point… Break time for the next month. Like I said before, this is explicitly NOT a hiatus. I've actually already rewritten two chapters so far. I intend to make sure future posts are higher quality than they have been. You deserve it and this story deserves it. Sorry about this, but in the long run I think it will be worth it. I'll see everyone next time!

Next Chapter: 11/4, The Start of Something Big