A/N: Avast ye! I don't really have an excuse for not posting yesterday, it was mostly out of laziness, I'll be completely honest. BUT! We're here now. Don't have a whole lot to say at this point, so we'll jump right in! Leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!
Chapter 60: Hostile Negotiations
"Hancock", Nate started, but before he could get any more out the mayor cut him off.
"I don't wanna talk to your mouthpiece, Tin Man. Come on in, we'll talk about whatever you're here to say, but you're gonna say it."
Mouthpiece? He and Brenda exchanged a glance before both looked at the SPARTAN. He didn't return their gaze. Damon was staring at Hancock who was still wearing his lopsided grin.
"They're here to do the talking, right?"
Damon shook his head. "I'm here to keep them safe. This is their operation."
Really… The ex-soldier just stopped himself from snorting. While that was true, he and Brenda had been the ones planning and executing it to this point, the armored titan wasn't happy about Nate's involvement. Even though he knew it would happen.
Then again, once things got rolling, Damon had kept out of it. Like he always says: the SPARTAN is good at fighting and not much else.
The ghoul's smile faded. "You're telling me you aren't in charge here."
"I'm not good at negotiations", Damon replied.
"That isn't an answer."
"No, I'm not in charge."
Nate blinked. Damon wasn't in charge? That isn't the sense he'd gotten to this point but, hey, if he's gonna say it-
"This is Brenda", the otherworldly soldier continued, motioning to the brown-haired woman, "Preston, the Minutemen's leader, chose her to act as a representative."
There it is…
"Are you part of the Minutemen now?" Damon nodded. "Huh." His gaze finally broke away from the SPARTAN and fixed itself on the three of them. "And who are the other two?"
Taking her opportunity, Brenda stepped forward. "These are Nate and Cassandra. They're also with the Minutemen."
After a few seconds' pause, the ghoul nodded. "Alright Brenda, if you speak for the Minutemen…" he motioned inside, "let's hear what the Minutemen have to say."
The Minuteman 'representative' glanced at Nate before following their gracious host inside.
As the rest did too, the ex-soldier's eyes turned to Damon. The SPARTAN spared him a brief look, head cocked ever so slightly while he walked by. The giant bastard was amused.
Nate shook his head. That was a good sign, maybe. Or it might be that, no matter what the situation, Damon would always enjoy torturing him.
Hopefully, that wouldn't be a literal statement in the future.
Once through the door, the infantryman found himself standing in the lavish, for Goodneighbor, well-lit entryway turned living room. The place looked like it was made to host parties. Large ones. There were several different seating areas, each arranged around a small table. Except one. There was one with what must have been room for 20 people near the back. Its focal was a massive couch set against the far wall.
No doubt that's where Hancock would sit.
The mayor led them to the large group of couches and chairs. It wasn't a surprise to anyone when he dropped into his seat.
"Have a sit, kick your shoes off, stay a while." He leaned back and rubbed his hands together. "We're here to negotiate, let's negotiate."
His demeanor was a departure from the stiff, quiet arrogance that had been oozing from the Codmans. It was a welcome change.
He, Brenda, and Cass all took seats near each other. Damon, like in Diamond City, took to standing behind them.
Hancock tapped the side of his head. "No one's gonna shoot you here, Tin Can."
"I'll keep it on", Damon replied.
Wow, the SPARTAN must like Hancock…
"Alright", the ghoul said, looking unperturbed. "So what's this offer the Minutemen have for me? For my town?"
Brenda leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs. "Help with the Brotherhood."
"I got that." He motioned for her to continue. "Next."
"We're willing to provide better equipment for now. When things get more… violent, we'll provide support. We want it in return."
The man's eyes narrowed. "Support? Last I heard the Minutemen got wiped out."
That wasn't right. The way he said that, how he trailed off at the end… the man had a decent poker face, but it had nothing on Cook's.
"What else have you heard?" Nate interjected.
"Who's sayin' I've heard anything else?"
"Come on Hancock, you don't like getting a runaround, return the favor."
The crooked smile that looked like it was stretching the skin of a rotting potato came back. "I like you a lot more than when you were here with that broken-down detective. How's Valentine doing these days? He's up with you all in Sanctuary, right?"
Nate nodded. "He wanted to come. Ellie wouldn't let him."
"Figures." The ghoul blew a raspberry. "I've heard someone hit Quincy." He looked at Damon. "Rumor says it was you."
The SPARTAN nodded. "And Minutemen personnel."
While that wasn't completely true, the Railroad was part of the Minutemen now so… bending the truth.
"Heard you took out Clint and his little group of Brotherhood wannabes", Hancock continued as though Damon hadn't said anything. He turned to Brenda. "That 'support' you talkin' about this big bastard?"
She smiled. "You know, Diamond City asked the same question. If he were all the support we could offer, would you turn it down?"
"You met with the folks over there, huh?" The mayor cocked an eyebrow. "Think it's a good idea to let me in on that? We aren't on the best terms right now."
Brenda's smile disappeared. "I thought we were being straight with each other. If you didn't know that, you wouldn't be much of a Goodneighbor mayor."
The ghoul huffed. "Let's assume I do. If your 'bodyguard' here were all you could offer, you're gonna have to do a pretty damn good job of selling him." The air quotes were clear as day. "We're talkin' about the Brotherhood. That ain't something one person is gonna do anything about."
I'm not so sure about that…
"He isn't", Nate said. "You've heard about the Railroad?" Hancock nodded. "They've joined. Our people are getting taught by their best, even had a fight with the Institute a few days ago. They tried to hit Sanctuary. It didn't go well for them."
"The Railroad and Institute, huh?" The mayor leaned forward. "Now I'm getting interested. Seems like you people get around."
More than you know. "If you want more information on that, you're gonna have to accept our offer."
"So you give us better guns, people who can fight, and we give you…?"
"A place to stay if needed, and people when the time comes to take the fight to the Brotherhood."
"That's all?" Hancock asked, question ladened with sarcasm. "Who's gonna be in charge of this little alliance, you, us, and Diamond City."
Brenda shook her head. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Diamond City hasn't agreed to anything yet."
"Humor me."
She shrugged. "We would be. The Railroad has the most experience fighting the Institute and we have…" she trailed off, motioning at the towering soldier behind them.
Hancock threw his head back and laughter burst into the room. It was just as dry and scratchy as his voice. "So that's how it is huh, Tin Can? You're gonna let them use you as an Ace of Spades?" His eyes fixed on Brenda again. "Alright, I like this game. You've got big, silent, and scary over there, the Railroad, high-quality gear, and the experience to do some damage. Do they know you're workin' with the Railroad? That won't fly with that bunch."
Just them? "No", Nate replied. "What about you?"
The ghoul gestured at the guards and house around them. "This is Goodneighbor. As long as you don't drop your problems on someone else, they're your problems."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"Hmm." Hancock nodded. "There's plenty of folks here who don't like Synths. Those folks don't need to be involved in this little arrangement."
'This little arrangement.' That sounded promising.
"They'll find out eventually", Brenda said.
"We'll deal with that when it happens."
His companion cocked an eyebrow. "Don't you think that's asking for trouble?"
Hancock smiled. "I've been around Goodneighbor for a long time. I know how she works."
"How will that work?"
"I… appreciate your concern but-"
Pounding on the door interrupted the Ghoul. He shot an irritated glance at the large guard standing beside him. "Would you be so kind as to get that, Jake?"
"You got it." The man, Jake, started toward the door as another one of the guards unlatched it.
"Boss!" whoever was on the other side shouted. The door swung open to reveal a young woman standing behind it, wide-eyed panic on her face. "Those Supermutants- they came back again."
"Son of a bitch", Hancock barked.
"Everyone's already on the wall but… it looks like they're coming for real this time."
As if to punctuate her sentence, a gunshot exploded into the evening. Once it started a cascade of others followed.
The ghoul sneered. "Keep me in the loop."
"Got it."
After the guard disappeared from the opening, and Jake swung the door shut again, Hancock leaned back in his couch.
"Supermutants?" Nate asked. "They've attacked before?"
"No", the mayor replied, shaking his head. "They gave us the chance to surrender." He snorted. "Cause these folks wanna get eaten. Yeah right. Told 'em they could shove it up their big yellow asses. Looks like they came to make good on that threat."
"We can help."
"My people know what they're doing. We aren't the Minutemen, I know, but we've had to protect ourselves before."
Cass cleared her throat before the ex-soldier could respond. "We got it."
When Nate looked her way, she subtly nodded toward Damon. The SPARTAN was still standing behind them, stiff as steel, visor fixed on Hancock. Out of any of them, the two with the biggest axe to grind with the big yellow bastards were Cass and the armored titan. That's what stopped Nate from protesting: Cass was remaining calm, probably because she was taking her cues from Damon. He wasn't calm, the ex-soldier knew him well enough to feel his muscles coiled for a fight. But he wasn't doing anything. Did that mean he had an idea? What was he up to?
Arguing with Hancock wouldn't get them anywhere. Nate shrugged mentally. Whatever the SPARTAN had in mind, might as well let it play out. For now.
So the ex-soldier sat there as gunfire continued raging outside. This was beginning to become a constant in his life. Again.
Beginning to? It had been that way ever since he started on this insane journey with Damon. Shooting, shooting, and just when he thought things might calm down, more shooting. It was like the world didn't want him to have a chance to breathe.
Nate looked around the room. It was in good repair compared to most buildings. The furniture was worn, but not damaged, there were only a handful of holes in the walls. Most of the light came from a fixture over them with a few more set in the walls around the room. It felt like an old-school (for pre-war) hotel if that hotel existed in a post-apocalyptic hellhole. With massive, mutated cannibals trying to eat people.
What was Damon thinking? If Nate were in his position, he'd want to see how Goodneighbor's people responded to a situation like this. It was an appropriately pragmatic strategy. The armored man could help, but if he did they wouldn't get a clear picture of the settlement's fighting ability.
Other possibilities came to mind: he could be waiting for the right opportunity, using his presence as leverage, or maybe he doesn't want to leave the three of them alone.
An explosion rattled the house, shaking dust from the ceiling.
"Tin Can", Hancock said as the rumble stopped, breaking the stilted relative silence that had fallen over the room, "why are you working with the Minutemen?"
Damon cocked his head. "Because I want to." His voice was tight and the words were clipped, at least that's what it felt like to Nate. He sounded as restless as the ex-soldier thought he'd be.
"That don't explain nothin'."
"Why does it matter?" the SPARTAN asked. Or maybe the better word to use would be 'demanded'.
The armored titan's tone didn't seem to bother Hancock. "The only things I know about you are you made a mess out of my town trying to kill KLEO and the rumors I've heard on the winds. What would convince someone crazy or good enough to take on the Brotherhood alone to join a group that was tryin' to rebuild after getting wiped out?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Seems like the dead weight would make life more difficult to me."
"Why does it matter?" Damon repeated. Irritation had joined the party.
"What use do I have for the Minutemen if you're the only reason they're around?"
Nate's eyes narrowed. Had the ghoul been leading them on earlier when it sounded like he was interested?
No answer came from the SPARTAN. Hancock smiled. "A rumor that came on the winds is you saved the last Minutemen from some Raiders in Concord. You got them set up in Sanctuary. So if they die without you, they need you to do their fighting in Quincy, and they send you to meet with us, it sounds like they don't exist without you." He leaned back and flicked his ridiculous hat. "Doesn't sound like a group I wanna throw my hat in with."
That was missing a lot of context. Even if he'd only been there for a few days, seeing what the people in Sanctuary had accomplished since Nate left to find Shaun was remarkable. They held off an Institute attack and, given enough time, would have driven it off even without Damon's help. After what happened to them, they could have folded, but they didn't. Alex had told him restarting the Minutemen had been Damon's idea, but they'd already started their own network before that. Did the SPARTAN get them started? Yes, but to say they were nothing without him…
"There's a lot you're-"
"Give it a rest mouthpiece", Hancock interrupted him, "I'm talking to the person who's in charge."
Oh hell no.
"That isn't how this works, Hancock", Nate snapped. "Damon agreed to help the Minutemen. He isn't in charge of them. You led us on earlier, fair enough, but if we're gonna be frank with each other, let me give you some insight. You don't stand a goddamn chance without us. The Brotherhood has five people for every one of yours, more power armor, air support, and guns than you can deal with, and the logistics to use them. The Institute has near unlimited resources and better technology than you can imagine. A fight between the two of them will catch Diamond City and Goodneighbor in the middle. We have experience fighting both, people who are expert soldiers and, between Damon and I, more military experience than everyone else in this room. Would that exist without him?" Nate motioned at the armored giant behind him. "No, but it exists now."
The silence that had draped itself over the house before returned as the ex-soldier stared Hancock down. Fighting was still raging outside, but that seemed… less important at the moment. Emotions were never a good thing to let out when playing poker, and that's what this was, a poker game. Hancock had bluffed his way into their hand. At that point, might as well lay it on the table and see if they have the cards to beat it.
"This isn't only for you. Or us."
The words exploded into the room so suddenly, Nate almost flinched. They weren't loud. In fact, they were barely above a whisper. It took him a moment to realize Cass was the one talking.
"There are a lot of people out there who won't be able to protect themselves. What happens to them?" The teenager's voice was quiet, but it was as unyielding as a cliff face. "What happens to the kids who lose their parents? Where are they supposed to go?" She turned to look up at Damon. The SPARTAN was already watching her. "Damon saved me and my brothers from Supermutants. Our parents had- they'd already been killed." She met Hancock's gaze again. "How many others could you keep from having to go through that if you helped us?"
"There are plenty of orphans in Goodneighbor who went through the same thing, kiddo", the mayor said. "The world's a cruel place."
Cass grimaced. "That's bullshit. It doesn't have to be. If you can do something about it, why wouldn't you?" She shook her head. "That sounds like something a coward would say."
The mayor stared at the girl, pockmarked and mutilated face unreadable. What had he thought about emotion being a bad thing to bring into this? She'd tried a completely different tact and it had Hancock frozen. Had he and Brenda been going about this wrong?
Nate felt more than heard Damon shift behind him. "I'd like to help repel the Supermutants."
"Already said we got it, Tin Can."
"Turning down assistance is stupid."
"You want me to let you out in my town again after last time?" the mayor asked.
The SPARTAN grunted. "What am I going to do with the three of them here?"
As much as he didn't like being used as collateral…"Hancock", Nate said standing, "we're trying to establish good relations with you. You want help with fighting, Damon's your man."
"Uh-huh." The ghoul's dark, deep-set eyes turned from Cass to him. He had a good poker face and it wasn't just the blank stare. Last time Damon was here he did turn the place into a war zone. Violence tends to follow the armored titan.
But the problem is violence was already there. And everyone knew it.
"Jake, take your people out with him, make sure he doesn't get shot and doesn't shoot anything he ain't supposed to."
"Got it", the large man replied before starting toward the SPARTAN.
Damon's visor was locked on the ex-soldier. "Don't let anything happen", he ordered.
The ex-soldier nodded. "Understood."
Damon, Jake, and four of the guards filed out of the house. That left Nate, Cass, and Brenda with Hancock and two others. The SPARTAN could take care of himself, even if the guards try something stupid. He and Brenda weren't fighting their way through an army, but they wouldn't go down easy.
"So you wanna help people, huh?" the ghoul asked, looking at Cassandra once again. "The world's been this way for the last 200 years. Before that, it wasn't much better, most people just didn't see it. Why do you think you can make any difference?"
It wasn't much better? How would he know? Nate took his seat.
Cass drew her shoulders back. "Because someone already did it for me. Twice. Tommy and Julian's parents adopted me after mine were killed by Raiders. They treated me like I was their daughter. They were regular farmers and they saved me when they didn't have to." She jerked her head toward the door. "Not everyone can be Damon- well… I don't know if anyone can, but that doesn't mean we can't do the same thing."
"Huh. 'Tommy and Julian' are your brothers, I assume."
"Oh", the teenager's cheeks took on some pink, "yeah. I guess I didn't say their names…" She resumed her determined stare. "After seeing everyone who's helped me, I think saying 'things have always been this way' is stupid."
"And you want to help these people, whoever they are, even if you don't know them?" Hancock asked.
Cass nodded. "Someone being a stranger is no reason to not help them. They're all people, they all have their own lives, and they all have people who care about them."
After what she'd been through, it was amazing she could still have such a positive perspective. It's something she'd shown during their time at the Railroad too; she was always the one to keep Tommy occupied or amused, she always had a smile or joke to tell.
But the teenager had changed. This wasn't the same… surviving she'd been doing back then, just trying to get through the day. She was focused, she had a goal and, no matter how innocent it seemed, it would be a mistake to assume that of her. The girl had eyes that belonged to someone much older than her.
Goodneighbor's mayor paused to exhale a long, slow breath. He leaned back in his chair, smiling. "Naive optimism. Y'know, sometimes I think the world could use more of it." He looked at Nate, then Brenda. "You two could take some lessons from her."
"That's what I was thinking", Brenda muttered.
"Sometimes you need to change your approach if you want someone to listen. There might be times you gotta sweet-talk 'em, and other times", he mimed stabbing someone, "you gotta play hardball." The ghoul's gaze drifted back to Cassandra. "You said Tin Can saved you from Supermutants? Mind telling me what happened?"
"Why?" she asked. Her eyes were starting to dart around the room. Nate noticed her heel beginning to tap a rapid rhythm against the worn wooden floor. Maybe the attention was starting to get to her…
Hancock held his hands up. "No real reason. Got a lot of different types in Goodneighbor. Heard a lot of stories over the years."
"Damon found her in the West Everett Estates", Nate said. "The Supermutants had an outpost set up there. They attacked the farm they lived on a few days before."
"Ah." The mayor nodded. "That isn't an uncommon story. Most people around here have had run-ins with the ugly bastards. Doesn't help more and more are movin' in." The man slid his hands behind his head and blew another breath out. "These ones seem a lot more determined than the others we've had to deal with. Smarter too, wonder what's up with that. Why did 'Damon' decide he wanted to offer his services?"
Cass. The two had grown a lot closer since- since the ambush. What she said struck a chord somewhere in that helmet. "You'll have to ask him. Why did you accept?"
He shrugged. "Your boy broke into my town. He killed 10 guards on his way in, a bunch of KLEO's guys, got blown up, and walked away from it. I wanna see what kinda guy can do that." The ghoul's smile widened. "He appeared at the top of one of our towers. Only way he coulda done that is jumping from one of the ones outside the wall."
"That sounds about right…" The ex-soldier nodded. It was a crazy idea, one he wasn't surprised Damon would come up with.
"So where do you fit in all this?"
Nate cocked an eyebrow.
"She's with the Minutemen", Hancock said, nodding at Brenda, "Tin Can saved her", he pointed to Cassandra, "but you've been with him since the beginning from what I hear. Why did you two get your start?"
"You're asking a lot of questions."
"In a world like this, information is better than caps. You want us to join forces or whatever, I want to know who I'd be working with."
Where did they get their start? Man… had it only been four months since he met Damon at Vault 117? Since then, he's learned his entire world was destroyed and 200 years had passed. He's traveled across the Commonwealth, the wasteland his hometown had become, multiple times with a supersoldier from another universe who had been fighting since he was five and had a tenuous grip on sanity. He's fought monsters, both people and creatures, you only hear about in stories. He's made enemies of pretty much every major party in Boston.
He found out his son was almost 30 years older than him and in charge of the Institute.
More than that, he's every bit the monster the ex-soldier thought Damon was. And, as it turns out, Damon, the one who was groomed to be a weapon since he was barely older than a toddler, was the one with the better conscience.
Sometimes.
When he didn't reply, Brenda cleared her throat. "They met right after Damon and the original group got to Sanctuary. They traveled to Diamond City together to help each other out."
The ex-soldier nodded. "Things got… complicated."
"Complicated, huh?"
The image of Damon disappearing into the church, science fiction shields flaring a brilliant gold in the night. The church collapsing with him inside. Then the hospital. Grant. The burnt bodies. A bullet slamming into his chest. Staring, disbelieving as the SPARTAN broke X6-55 in half. "Yeah. Complicated."
Hancock huffed. "Well, I can't say this isn't an interesting situation." He started tapping a foot repeatedly on the worn floorboards, the beat matching the pace of gunfire outside. The ex-soldier had to wonder what Damon was doing out there. Killing Supermutants, to be sure, but how? Was he on the wall with the other defenders? No, even if the armored man was trying to evaluate their capabilities, he'd still be doing something different. Probably crazy.
"Alright, I've got a few things to talk over with some folks, but consider it a deal."
Both Nate and Brenda let out a deep exhale.
"That's good news", the woman said, "it's been a rough day so far."
"You talked with McDonough. I can't imagine anything got through that head of his."
The ex-soldier nodded. "And the Codmans."
If the sneer that crossed Hancock's face was any more poisonous, it might have killed everyone in the room.
"Those two. I try not to think about them."
"I can't imagine why", Brenda laughed.
"We'll need to sort out logistics. I'm interested in that 'equipment' you're offering."
Nate dropped the magazine out of his rifle and cleared the chamber. "A few dozen of these", he said, offering the weapon to Hancock, "ammunition, and some higher quality body armor to start. We're still working with our source to see what else we can begin distributing."
"Your source?" the ghoul asked as he handled the rifle. "I suppose you aren't going to tell me who that is. This thing's nice… very nice. The only 'person' I know who makes guns this good is KLEO, and I don't think she'd work with you."
"You're right, I won't tell you who it is, but it isn't KLEO."
Hancock looked up from the rifle. "A new player then."
"Ah, come on", the infantryman said, smiling, "it won't be that easy."
"Can't blame a guy for trying." He offered the weapon back to Nate. "I like it."
Brenda shifted. "We can offer training. The Railroad has some very good people. We can't spare more than a few, but they can help."
"How good?"
"Well, they have been fighting the Institute for a few decades and are still around to talk about it."
"Huh." Hancock nodded. "Yeah, it'll give me a chance to see if you're bringing something to the table besides your talking weapon."
"He's more than a weapon", Cass blurted before he had a chance to finish.
The ghoul only smiled. "We'll see."
If someone had asked Nate during the first few weeks he knew the SPARTAN, he would have agreed. Maybe even after he heard Damon's story. Now? Not a chance.
Hancock was right in a sense. Yes, the Minutemen will be a formidable force once they're ready but if this is going to work, as much as the infantryman didn't like it, Damon is the handle that makes the whole thing turn.
But he'd be damned if the armored titan carried that burden on his own.
"Now all we have to do is wait for him to deal with this Supermutant attack", Nate said. Damon wasn't the only one fighting, clearly, but it still sent a message.
"Yeah…" Hancock said slowly. "We'll see about that too."
X
"Don't want to be on his bad side."
"Ain't that the truth", Nate muttered as they sat in the large room they'd been given. They were supposed to be heading back to Diamond City, McDonough said they'd have an answer for them but, after the Supermutant attack, Goodneighbor had pulled its guard back. They could have gone, it was safer for everyone if they didn't. No doubt Damon wouldn't mind getting the opportunity to kill more of the green-skinned mfers, but the SPARTAN's body count isn't what's important.
"What?" Brenda asked. She was sitting at the room's table with Cass. Both were eating something from a box labeled 'Salisbury steak'. Nate had eaten real Salisbury steak, another dish Nora had made once. She thought she hadn't done it right, but it tasted fine to the ex-soldier.
He was laying on one of the beds, staring up at the mostly intact ceiling above them.
"When Jake was walking us around their emplacements, he said he doesn't want to be on Damon's bad side. I agree."
"Again, you mean", Cass said. Her tone was light and clearly sarcastic, but she was right. He'd gotten on the SPARTAN's bad side because he made a stupid mistake. No, not a mistake, he made a stupid decision. If he hadn't done that… who knows where they'd be now?
"Yes", he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Again." I'm not sure I'm not still on his bad side.
The ex-soldier sat up and looked at the door across the room from him. The place wasn't anywhere near as well-furnished as Hancock's house had been. All they had were a few chairs, a table, and some beds, but that was enough for the four of them. It isn't like they'd be staying long.
"You think he's run out of patience yet?" Brenda asked as she chewed another bite of the brown mush they were eating.
"Damon doesn't have patience to run out of."
They both laughed.
Cass was the first to recover. "That's so true."
"You know", Brenda's fork made a clink as it hit her plate, "I've never actually seen the guy fight. I've heard about it, and then there was the time he put a knife to my neck, but what's it like?"
The ex-soldier had been on both sides of that spectacle.
"Incredible. Mind-blowing. Terrifying." He cleared his throat. "I spent a lot of time in active combat. There are rules you live by to stay alive, most of them are based on sound logic: taking a bullet is a bad thing, go slow and methodical unless the situation calls for something else, be patient, trust the people around you. He throws all of that out the window." There were so many things Nate could say, but if they wanted a real explanation of the SPARTAN's abilities, they'd have to ask him. "He's what you get when you raise someone like him for war and pump them full of whatever they did to make him that."
Cass squinted at him. "Someone like him?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if, in a different universe", the ex-soldier smiled at his joke, "he would have made a great special operations soldier on his own. You take that and do what his people did to him, you get Damon."
"Did you know people like him?"
Cook. Nate nodded. "A few."
"Were you like that?"
Was he? Nate liked to think he was a good soldier, an effective fighter, and a quality squadmate. After his first year or so. He'd never tried for anything more than infantry. Could he have made it through Ranger school?
"I don't mean to pry", the teenager added, "it's just- you said you were in the military for a long time. If you survived that long…"
"It's fine." He shrugged. "Maybe. There were a lot of things going on during the time I served. I don't know if I'd say the same thing that drives people like that is what drives me."
Without so much as a whisper of warning, the door swung open to reveal Damon's hulking form.
Speak of the devil. "You finally get tired of them?"
The SPARTAN ducked through the door and shut it behind him. "They had a lot of questions."
Brenda snorted. "Is that unusual?"
"Yes." He didn't elaborate as he marched to the corner opposite Nate.
Sometimes the ex-soldier wondered, for all his competence, and everything he'd just said about him, if the supersoldier was all there.
"Good talk…"
"He either worked alone or with other people like him", Nate explained. "The only people here who have seen him fight more than a few times are me and Valentine." Wait… didn't he hit that Raider base up north. "And I guess Haylen and Danse."
The woman shot him a small smile that probably said 'thanks'. "They didn't ask?"
"They were concerned with other things at the time", Damon replied. He was determined to be unhelpful.
"You're awfully talkative", Cass jabbed.
The SPARTAN pulled the large caliber rifle from his back and sat against the wall. "No more than usual."
"Right…" the teenager returned to her dinner. Late dinner.
"We're gonna leave first thing tomorrow", the ex-soldier said before the silence that always seemed to follow Damon whenever he was in this sort of mood could take hold.
All he got was a curt nod and a whole lot of quiet.
"We've only done half of what we came here for. Care to share what your plan for the other half is?"
"Tomorrow."
Oh no you don't. "Remember when we talked about this on the Prydwen?"
Damon's response was an exasperated sigh. "I remember that was before you tried to kill me."
Ouch. He really is in a bad mood. Why? He got to kill Supermutants. That was probably one of his favorite things to do.
"What crawled up your ass and died", Brenda asked as she frowned at the armored titan.
"I'm tired of questions."
She held up her hands. "Alright, no need to shoot anyone else tonight."
The SPARTAN grunted but didn't offer the joke anything else.
In all seriousness, what was wrong? This is extreme even for him.
Just as the ex-soldier was going to ease himself out of the bed, he froze. Did he have the right to pull Damon aside like he had before? Would the man let him? How would the armored titan react? It would be childish and insulting to fear he'd react in any way that would threaten Nate's safety, but he's still walking a fine line. Damon wasn't happy with how much ground he'd secede to the infantryman thus far. Whatever else happens…
Grant's half blown away head flashed through the ex-soldier's mind. Had he forgiven Damon for that? He didn't know. Maybe if the SPARTAN had shown any form of contrition, he would. He hadn't though.
But then there's the reason he hadn't, the circumstances that made the young man, and what was he supposed to do?
It was a fair statement to say he'd never interacted with anyone like Damon. Even though he's known the SPARTAN for a while now, it was still difficult.
He didn't know if he'd forgiven Damon for killing Grant. Even considering the armored titan's past, it was hard to do without seeing any remorse. But that didn't mean he wasn't also trying to repair their friendship because, as he's said before, it was Nate's fault it ended up the way it did.
Pulling him aside might not be in the cards but maybe…
"What's up, Damon?" That omnipresent yellow-gold visor fixed itself on him. "You aren't normally this combative." Well… "With people you aren't fighting."
The silence after Nate finished extended long enough he almost gave up on getting an answer.
"How would you know?" Damon replied. His voice was terse and, while he couldn't see the SPARTAN's face, it sounded like he'd spoken through a clenched jaw. Then there was his posture. Damon looked like he normally did when he knew a fight was on its way: coiled tight.
That was strange. The ex-soldier expected him to shut down a conversation he wasn't interested in having. It's what he's always done. Was he looking for a fight?
Sorry Damon but that's not what I'm here for. Not right now, anyway.
"Because you weren't this bad before. And I had four days to see you around the people in Sanctuary." The SPARTAN hadn't been social, but there were plenty of settlers that seemed comfortable enough to have regular conversations with him. With how standoffish Damon is, that takes time to get over.
"So what's up?"
Both Brenda and Cass were half watching the two of them, half keeping their attention on their food.
Damon continued staring at him with a gaze that pierced his visor, but the ex-soldier wasn't going to back off. Not yet anyway. If an angry glare was the extent of the blowback he got from his friend, he'd take that as a win.
Silence began stretching to a minute, then two. Cass and Brenda finished their food and stayed at the table as if they were afraid to interrupt the tense quiet that had draped itself over the room. The ex-soldier wasn't going to be the first one to talk; he'd asked his question, Damon knew what he meant. Either the supersoldier would answer, or shut the conversation down. Whatever happened, Nate was going to make it his decision.
As the third minute faded into the fourth, Damon grunted. "They're claiming victory early. We didn't kill enough of the Supermutants and I wasn't able to track down their leader. They're excited about 'working with me' after what they saw." The way the SPARTAN said that drew Nate's mind to KLEO. No doubt that was the same thing Damon was thinking.
"And you."
The ex-soldier blinked. Everyone in the room knew exactly what that meant.
"Bringing me along worked, didn't it."
Damon shook his head. "Cassandra was the one who convinced Hancock." He'd used Cass' full first name. Why?
"Damon, come on, she got it across the line but don't sell Brenda or me short. You're too smart to make that kind of argument."
The SPARTAN cocked his helmet. "What's your point?"
"Acting like this isn't going to help anything."
There was another brief pause before Damon exhaled slowly. "I'll tell you what I want to do tomorrow because I need to figure out whether the group Supermutants that attacked are a large enough threat to eliminate now." Even though Nate couldn't see his face, he could feel the 'happy?' In his gaze.
Nate fought a smile down; he'd been right, Damon was too pragmatic to let emotions get in the way too long. Even the armored titan knows the importance of unit cohesion, especially on a mission like this when each member of the team brings extremely different skill sets.
"Yes", the ex-soldier said with a nod. "I'm happy." He leaned back in his bed and closed his eyes. He wouldn't call that a 'win', but it was a step in the right direction.
"Why are you trying so hard?"
What? Apparently, Damon wasn't done with the conversation.
Nate frowned. "What are you asking?"
"Why are you trying to 'fix' things?"
That didn't sound accusatory, if anything it sounded like the SPARTAN was fishing.
It wouldn't do any good to lie to him. Damon may have been one of the most socially inept people he'd ever met, but he was observant. Very observant. If he asked the question, it was because he knew that's what Nate was trying to do.
On top of that, what reason did the infantryman have to lie?
"Because I want to." Nate sat back up again, but his eyes fell on Cass instead of the SPARTAN. "I made the wrong call at the church, you had the guts to make the right one. I need to fix whatever went wrong because of it."
"And that includes you trying to be friendly with me again."
That one wasn't a question. Nate nodded anyway. "Regardless of what you think, I still consider you a friend. A friend I betrayed, but still a friend." That's right, he does consider the armored titan a friend. He can be upset with the man and him killing Grant while still thinking of him as a friend.
What a strange world…
"How long are you going to bother me with this?"
Nate smiled. "Until you return the favor or shoot me." As the words left his mouth, both Brenda and Cass shot him smiles. They were a mixture of amused and worried. It shouldn't be an issue, Damon knew that was an exaggeration.
Probably.
"I could do it now and save both of us a lot of time", the SPARTAN replied.
"No", Brenda snorted, "save the shooting for other people, Damon."
The SPARTAN shrugged.
This didn't seem like him… Not the nonchalance to killing. Why was Damon so determined to continue the conversation? It sounded like he was trying to convince himself he wants to shoot the ex-soldier.
Did that mean he didn't? Or was Nate imagining things?
Probably imagining things.
As he laid back in his bed and his eyes drifted shut, he couldn't get the thought out of his mind. Despite what had happened, ambushing them and killing Grant, the infantryman wanted to reconnect with Damon. Was it crazy to imagine the SPARTAN was thinking the same thing? He didn't know. How could he know? The otherworldly soldier didn't operate the same way as a regular person would so… was it safe to assume anything?
Worrying about it now isn't going to help, will it? I'm here for now. Take it and go.
"You should probably be a little more friendly", Cass said. It didn't take a rocket scientist to guess who it was to.
The armored titan stayed silent.
"Oh c'mon Cass", Brenda teased. "Threatening to shoot someone instead of shooting them? That is friendly."
Cassandra laughed. "I forgot. I'm sorry."
She has a point though. The ex-soldier smiled. Damon hadn't shot him this time, that's a step in the right direction.
What the hell has gone wrong in my life where someone not shooting someone else is a good standard to judge by?
X
Nate accompanied the SPARTAN back into the city the next morning. They left Dogmeat with Brenda and Cass, more so because Damon didn't want the dog to tag along. That made sense considering neither of them knew how he'd react to the Supermutants.
And he seemed to have taken a liking to Brenda.
They'd told Hancock what they intended to do as soon as the ghoul was available. He asked a few questions, mostly about why Damon decided he wanted to take on a base of Supermutants. Other than that, he didn't object. He didn't offer to send any of his people either. Was that because Hancock wanted to see if they'd come back alive? Or did he think it was suicide?
Whatever the reason, the two of them were out of Goodneighbor just after the sun broke the eastern horizon. The orange tinge and long shadows cast through the dead city lent it an appropriately eerie atmosphere.
It didn't take them long to find their target and decide on an appropriate lookout. Once they'd cleared their chosen tower, Nate found himself laying behind the McMillan sniper rifle Damon loved oh so much. He was staring through its scope toward the large tower the Supermutants had decided would be their base of operations. This group of Supermutants, at least.
Attempts to repair its structure had been made at some point. It was hard to tell whether it was the Supermutants or another group before them, but most of the holes were covered with iron or steel plates. Some of them had the wavy pattern of shipping containers, others looked like they may have been taken out of the side of a box truck. Wherever they were from, they were all rusted at this point.
The two of them were in a smaller building about 200 yards south of their target. It was relatively intact as well and offered clear sightlines into the large front windows of the tower. Between them was an open space that looked like it had been the parking lot for a business park. There weren't many cars in it, but there was a tower to the west that collapsed across it.
"How long is that gonna take?" the ex-soldier asked.
The SPARTAN was looking out the broken window toward the target building.
"An hour and a half, maybe two hours."
Two hours alone in this building, looking over the tower, listening for anyone who might be coming to say hello.
"Did you bring anything to rig the doors? I didn't."
"Yes", Damon replied, turning to Nate, "I'll set grenade traps at each with a trip-wire. Don't set them off."
The ex-soldier shot an unamused frown at the younger man. "Thanks for the advice."
The only thing he got in return was a grunt.
"Alright, well, let's get this over with then." Nate looked back through the rifle scope.
A few moments later, after the SPARTAN had set his traps, he was alone, scanning the Supermutant's 'home'. The tower was as large as Jake said it would be. The lack of major structural damage was a surprise, but not entirely shocking. From the looks of the building around it, the others had taken the brunt of the nuke's blast. Their target was near the center of Boston's skyline. That had shielded it from the worst of the explosion.
They'd decided to do this that morning. Or, more accurately, Damon had decided to do it.
"This seems a little soon, don't you think?" Brenda said. "We haven't had a chance to solidify anything. Plus, we need to get back to Diamond City"
The SPARTAN shook his head. "They can wait. This gives us leverage."
"Leverage is fine, but they've already agreed to help."
Even if he didn't like where Damon was going with this, Nate could see where the road led. "Hancock was fishing yesterday. He wants to see what we're offering."
"But he made it clear he knows Damon is dangerous", Cassandra replied. "It's the rest of the Minutemen he's worried about. All this would do is confirm what he knows about Damon."
"They're Supermutants." The armored titan left the rest unsaid.
Cass didn't look happy about the reminder. Her eyes narrowed as she stared Damon down. "I know that. But we're here to make alliances and delay the Brotherhood and Institute. Attacking those Supermutants doesn't do any of that."
"This isn't only about them. The more I do, the more people hear about me, the more likely they are to join the Minutemen."
That made a certain amount of sense. It was the same strategy they'd used in Diamond City. Thinking like that could lead to some very dangerous actions.
"Hold on", the ex-soldier said, "we don't know what the Supermutants have. How many of them they are, how well armed they are, or what will happen if we attack? The only thing we know is they're in that tower."
"I can make it work." The SPARTAN's voice was terse.
"I've seen you do enough to believe that", sort of, "but that doesn't mean this is the right call."
"The Supermutants are a threat to everyone. If this is one of their largest strongholds, eliminating it will make everyone safer."
What the hell is going on here? This isn't normal for him…
It didn't matter what state of mind Damon was in, he had doing this stuck in his head.
"Alright. I'll come with you to provide cover", Nate said. He wanted to see what the Supermutants were up to, but more than that he needed to figure this out. If the armored titan was wound up about something, they needed to figure out what. If he's operating half-cocked, they're in trouble.
"Agreed." The look Damon was giving him said the 'if you try anything…' part for him.
"It's all well and good you two are getting along", Brenda said, "but we still have to get back to Diamond City."
"It won't take all day", Damon replied.
The young woman frowned. "We're already late. They said they'd have an answer yesterday."
"Then I'll move fast."
She had a point but would it help if Nate threw his hat in with her? The SPARTAN would probably tell him to stay here if he did that. And something was up. More than whatever he said the night before. It might not be the right tactical decision, but Damon seemed determined to do this. So the right strategic decision was to go with the supersoldier and keep him out of trouble.
Try to keep him out of trouble.
"It'll be alright." Nate smiled at Cass. "I'll keep an eye on him."
The teenager rolled her eyes. "Yeah, good luck with that."
The two of them left Goodneighbor after informing Hancock. It didn't take long to get to the tower. Most of it was spent sneaking through the city. This area was relatively devoid of population, what people there were drawn to the two large settlements.
Damon seemed… off. Not that he wasn't attentive or quiet, he still glided across the ground like a specter. His movements weren't quite right. They were, for him, sharp. Too mechanical might be the best way to put it.
And now here Nate was, watching what could be the largest concentration of Supermutants in Boston, relying on a super soldier who may have been emotionally compromised.
What are friends for…? The ex-soldier smiled, pulling his mind away from that morning's conversations and back to the task at hand.
While there were smaller windows around the building, most didn't give the ex-soldier a very good view of its interior. His best bet was the front windows. Back before the War they were, no doubt, a stylistic choice. The designers wouldn't have expected their work to turn into the site of a shootout someday. What the 40-foot wide, now blown-out windows that ran ground floor almost to the roof did for the ex-soldier was provide him with an unobstructed view of at least each floor's lobby.
Half of them were empty, but on the others, there was at least one Supermutant milling around. First count was 23, second was 21. Those weren't promising numbers. With how large each of the floors was, more than triple the size of the lobbies, that meant there could be over a hundred of the big green and yellow bastards in there.
Nate noticed movement below. Training the rifle toward the base of the tower, he saw a group of four misshapen Supermutants dressed in scraps of armor ambling around its perimeter. So they had a patrol too. No static guards, not any he could say. It wouldn't be a surprise if they were inside the ground floor, which meant the SPARTAN would be fighting through them just to get into the building.
The novelty still hadn't worn off. The idea that the two of them could take on a force of anything, including Supermutants, that had the numbers to threaten Goodneighbor. Sure, Nate had seen Damon in action more than a few times now, but his brain was still stuck. Almost as though it would take information it had about the armored supersoldier, process it, but still come to the conclusion the next thing he'd see the man do wasn't possible.
And then he'd go do it.
All the ex-soldier can do is stay in contact and shoot what targets he could. If the SPARTAN was smart, he'd lure as many Supermutants to the lobby of each floor as he moved up the tower. As thick as he could be at times, no one could ever call Damon dumb.
The third count came out to 26.
Despite knowing the SPARTAN very well might be able to handle the situation, none of it sat right with the ex-soldier. Damon's mental state, the number of Supermutants, the positions, the potential hazards… Nate may not be a supersoldier from another dimension but he did have an extensive military career to lean on. This looked like a 2 + 2 = 5 situation. That math doesn't work out, even with Damon doing it.
It wasn't just the danger, it's the fact they didn't have a read on what that danger was.
After a little over an hour and a half alone, Nate ran out of things to scan in the tower.
Nothing he saw during that time convinced him this was a smart target to hit. They didn't have a layout of the building, no count on enemies, and no idea what weapons they had.
Every so often, Nate would scan the buildings around their target, looking for signs of the SPARTAN, but that was a crapshoot. Even if the man wasn't an experienced covert operative, finding someone in the mess that was the half dozen buildings in his line of sight was low odds at best.
Inevitably, his eyes would be drawn back to the building. He didn't remember what it was back before the War, but it had survived relatively well.
As Nate's Pipboy told him the SPARTAN had been gone a little more than an hour and 40 minutes, the small radio crackled to life.
"Coming in, hold fire."
The ex-soldier pressed its transmit button. "Copy."
A few seconds later, he heard the creak of a door swinging open and, when he glanced back, the SPARTAN was stalking toward him.
"No visible overwatch positions, no outside guards, four counted on the ground floor, one patrol with an irregular route, unknown total number of hostiles."
Nate nodded. "That's what I got."
How was he supposed to broach the subject? Hitting that tower was a bad idea. Not only did they not know how many Supermutants were inside or what they were packing, they had to think about time. That tower wasn't small and Damon would have limited time to clear it out before the Brotherhood came looking.
Just say it. What's he gonna do?
"We shouldn't do this", the ex-soldier said. He rolled off his stomach and sat up. Damon was standing a few yards away, visor fixed on their target. "Even if you can handle whatever's in that building, are you gonna be able to do it fast enough? The Brotherhood'll be breathing down our throats in no time."
Silence. The SPARTAN didn't meet his gaze, didn't respond, hell he didn't move. If Nate didn't know someone was in that suit of armor, he might think it was some sort of strange decoration. That was promising.
The quiet was punctuated by a burst of distant gunfire. Nothing unusual for the Commonwealth.
"I would most likely be able to clear the building", Damon finally said.
And Nate knew he'd been right. "Neither of us made careers out of 'most likely'."
As if it pained the armored titan, he slowly turned his gaze to look down at Nate. "Don't patronize me."
Patronize him? He had tried to relate their careers. "You're right. Sorry." He held his hands out. "What I meant was-"
"Attacking the Supermutants is a bad idea. Yeah."
The ex-soldier's eyes narrowed. "So you agree?"
That, apparently, was the wrong thing to ask. Damon grunted but didn't answer. He didn't have to. Nate knew the SPARTAN agreed. He didn't do half-measures and didn't leave things to chance. More than that, the threat the Brotherhood posed was too great for them to risk a prolonged engagement. Would they be able to get away from whatever sortie they sent into the city? Probably.
'Probably' isn't good enough, not with the stakes they've got. More than that, if the Brotherhood somehow didn't know they were talking with Diamond City and Goodneighbor, announcing their presence here would be a bad idea.
"We're going to hold position and observe", Damon said eventually.
Was that because he was looking for an opportunity to attack? Or was this just gathering information?
In the end, it doesn't matter much. As much as Nate didn't want to sit there all day, he knew enough to know he wouldn't convince Damon to go back. Even though they were supposed to be heading to Diamond City. Besides, this might turn into a chance to learn something about the Supermutants.
"Alright." The ex-soldier stood and shook his legs out. He hadn't felt this stiff the last time he was stuck on watch duty a few years back- in his time, anyway. Uh oh, was he starting to get old?
"I'm gonna take a few. Laying there for the past two hours didn't do me any favors."
Damon cocked his helmet as the smaller man began stretching his arms over his head. "I've been on watch longer than that."
"Yeah", Nate grunted, "I'm almost twice your age."
"You haven't taken overwatch for longer?"
The infantryman nodded. "I have, but I was younger back then."
"You aren't that old."
"No I'm-" wait… why are they arguing about this? "Dammit Damon, can a guy take a piss?"
After a moment of silence, the armored titan shrugged.
"Good", Nate said as he started toward the far side of the floor, "I'm glad I have your permission."
At least he's being… cooperative. The ex-soldier skirted what was left of a table. Even if he already knew attacking that stronghold would have been a stupid move. The SPARTAN so very clearly wanted to. Not like Nate could blame him. He hadn't seen the West Everett Estates, but Cass's retelling of the story was enough.
And… does what they do- did remind Damon of what happened to him?
Nate stopped in an alcove hidden from the supersoldier. He knew the armored man wouldn't care, and he'd been in the military for a long time too but… Well, some of the habits Nora pounded into him when he was home weren't going to fade. Not that he wanted any of them to. It may not be healthy, but he'd hold onto every one he could. Even something as simple as closing the door when he went to the bathroom.
Two minutes later, he was back at the front of the building. Damon was laying behind the McMillan peering through its scope toward the tower. Not for the first time, Nate questioned how that armor could be comfortable.
I guess if you're living in it for the better part of a decade, it's something you get used to.
The ex-soldier settled away from the window, eyes roaming the destroyed cityscape beyond.
A day of sitting in stilted silence… sounds great. That being said, he might as well put it to good use.
X
"That's a new one", Nate muttered. "Halfway up the tower. That armor's different." Most of the Supermutants he'd seen to that point were wearing basic protection at best. It generally ranged from leather and a few steel plates to little more than regular clothes. Clothes that didn't fit. This Supermutant had what almost looked like a set of power armor on. But it didn't look like any of the models the ex-soldier was familiar with. This armor was made of crude plates that were probably just welded together. When did one of them learn how to weld?
Whatever it was made of, the armor was heavy. None of the green-skinned humanoids moved with more dexterity than a nine-year-old. This thing looked lumbered around like it wanted to do anything but.
"Agreed."
"What does that make?"
"87", the towering soldier answered.
"… Shit."
Keeping track of each Supermutant they'd seen was difficult. Nate wasn't convinced the SPARTAN hadn't miscounted, but he had no way of knowing for sure. Then again… he did do this sort of thing.
"How are we gonna deal with this?" 'Dealing with it' was a forgone conclusion. If the number really was 87, that meant the total inside the tower was probably well into triple digits. Those kinds of numbers would be a serious threat to Goodneighbor. Both of them knew a direct confrontation would be stupid. Maybe Damon could handle the numbers, but not before the Brotherhood arrived to ruin things.
"Bring the building down", the armored man said. He was still peering through the scope toward their target.
Bring the building down? "We can't call a fire mission in… unless you're talking about blowing the main supports…"
"Yes."
Nate looked back through his scope at the skyscraper. "A building that size, it's gonna take a lot of boom to knock those out."
"Yes", Damon repeated.
When he didn't elaborate, the ex-soldier rolled his eyes. "You have that kind of boom?"
"Not on me."
'Not on me.' That implied he did have some form of high explosives. The incendiary bomb he'd used in the hospital-
The pungent, acrid smell of burning flesh and plastic filled the ex-soldier's lungs. He had to swallow hard to keep himself from dry-heaving.
Other, less pleasant memories associated with that moment came to mind.
Not now. It won't do any good to dig that up.
"I'll need to know exactly how much to bring", the SPARTAN continued.
Nate didn't like those implications. "You want to go look?"
After a brief pause, the towering man finally turned to look at him. "Unless you have blueprints." As usual, the statement was dry and emotionless. It was impossible to tell if he was being sarcastic. He had to be now. There's no world where he thinks Nate has the blueprints to some random tower in the middle of Boston.
The Institute probably does.
They weren't in the Institute.
"Alright… just-" don't piss off the tower full of half-developed cannibals. Not the right thing to say. Dammit, there were times the ex-soldier wished he didn't have to be the diplomatic one. "Don't take too long. I'm getting tired of sitting around here." He pulled his eyes away from Damon. "Cass and Brenda have been on their own all day."
The SPARTAN climbed to his feet. "They can handle themselves. What would you do if Hancock decided to betray us while you were there?" His voice was clipped, biting off the end of each word.
What would he do if he were there? Well… not a whole lot in the big picture, he supposed. Leaving them alone in Goodneighbor felt wrong.
And he could feel Nora drilling him with an irritated glare.
"Not me", the ex-soldier motioned at Damon. "You."
"If they wouldn't do it when I was there, and they knew my location, they wouldn't do it when they don't."
He had a point; the only thing worse in a fight than Damon trying to kill you directly was the armored titan doing it when he wasn't.
Experience is the best teacher.
There were a few issues with that assumption. Yes, the SPARTAN's dangerous, yes he's hard to kill, yes he's really good at making the other guy dead. Even so, eventually, if someone decides they don't want to play ball with the otherworldly soldier, which they had, they'll do something he doesn't like. The attack on Sanctuary is a perfect example.
It's only a matter of time until the Brotherhood starts making its moves. If either Diamond city or, as unlikely as it is, Goodneighbor are working with them…
Arguing now wouldn't get them anywhere here. And this needed to happen anyway.
"If you say so."
Nate didn't get a response, only a glance from the SPARTAN.
Leaving the McMillan on the ground, Damon motioned toward the tower and marched from the room.
He gives an entirely new meaning to 'cold shoulder'.
The ex-soldier's brain did the favor of reminding him, between the two of them, Damon is the only one who's killed someone in this situation.
… Well… someone close to either of them.
He didn't know.
That didn't help. Nate recalled something he'd said to the SPARTAN… it was right after Damon brought- Nora's body back.
"Just another body on the pile."
Another moment he wished he could take back… but it fit with Grant's death.
Focus. I can think about that later.
Nate crawled over to the McMillan and settled behind the large rifle.
I can figure his lack of empathy out when we aren't scouting a Supermutant stronghold
As he shouldered the sniper rifle and peered through its scope, the ex-soldier began scanning for that ground 'patrol'. It didn't take long to find them; the four Supermutants were milling around on the west side of the building. He'd come to expect ineptitude from the large yellow-green humanoids. While the setup they had in the tower was relatively impressive, the patrol wasn't. None of them were paying attention to their surroundings. The masses of rubble and crumbling buildings would provide infinite cover for an approaching force. These assholes weren't even smart enough to cover some of it.
That's good news for Damon, the ex-soldier supposed.
The Supermutants he could see in the tower told the same story. There were 15 or 20 standing in the various lobbies. None of them were watching outside. The two visible on the roof looked clueless too.
Part of the ex-soldier started regretting their decision. Maybe Damon should engage. These things assumed they were safe and were too stupid to even pretend they were watching. The SPARTAN might be able to run through them as easily as he does everyone else.
87. And that was just the number they'd counted. The Supermutants were very aggressive and hard to kill. Fighting through a building full of enemies like that…
Even Damon would struggle.
Speaking of, as Nate watched the front of the building, he saw a dark shape flash across the street to the building's east. It was fast enough that, if he didn't know what it was, he might have dismissed it.
The ex-soldier's heart started pounding as turned his gaze back to the Supermutants outside. This wasn't just scouting anymore. Damon was in an enemy position now, even if he was only there for recon. They hadn't reacted to the intrusion. If the SPARTAN wasn't lying (and to this point, Nate had no reason to think he would), he'd infiltrated harder targets.
That didn't stop the ex-soldier from wondering when the shooting would start.
Long, agonizing seconds ticked by, slowly turning into minutes.
Nate checked his Pipboy.
1432.
Five minutes in. No shooting yet.
The Supermutants at the base of the tower were still standing around, talking. The ones in the tower were still walking around, relaxed. No sign of panic or anger. Damon was underneath them, and none of the big green bastards seemed to realize it.
How long would that luck hold out?
That depends on if it's luck.
Another five minutes ticked by and still nothing. The Supermutants at the west side of the building started wandering toward the back. When another one appeared at the tower's main entrance, the ex-soldier's heart jumped into his throat.
But it didn't show any signs of alarm. It meandered its way over to the others.
Come on Damon, hurry the hell up.
Nate almost smiled. The SPARTAN was the one down there, surrounded by Supermutants and Nate was complaining about-
Something started playing with the ex-soldier's inner ear. It was barely noticeable at first but, as second passed it grew from distracting to concerning. No noise accompanied it, not yet, but Nate knew damn well what that was. He'd spent enough time flying around in Vertibirds to recognize the sign of one's approach.
That's fine. The Brotherhood's active in this area.
They were, but that didn't stop the pit that started coalescing in his stomach.
What the hell was taking Damon so long?
More seconds crawled by agonizingly slowly. The concussion was soon joined by the audible thud of rotors beating at the air.
None of the Supermutants reacted.
If the VTOLs were flying from the airport, there were plenty of places they could go. Hell, they might not even be after a target in the city. If it's from Cambridge, there's a lot of Boston east of them. The ex-soldier knew from the Institute's intelligence-gathering efforts there were settlements, locations of interest, resources, and Supermutants to the east.
Those Vertibirds weren't after any of that.
Maybe it was the two decades of experience. Maybe it was just him being paranoid. Maybe there was some way about how quickly the volume of whining turbines and pounding rotors was increasing. Maybe it's a combination of those and other things he couldn't think of. Nate didn't know for sure. What he did know was his intuition in combat situations rarely failed him.
The tower was their target.
Shit. Damon, where are you? How long does it take to figure out how to blow this goddamn building up.
Nate took his eye off the McMillan's scope and began scanning the sky. It wasn't much use. Between how far back he was from the window and how little sky made it past the towers around him, he couldn't see much.
The radio was still in his pocket. As tempting as it was to reach for, it would be a bad idea. Their comms aren't secure and the Brotherhood does have triangulation equipment. Besides, it wouldn't penetrate the thick concrete if Damon was still underground.
All the ex-soldier could do was sit and wait.
A/N: Aaaaand they're in trouble again. This and the next chapter were another pair I rewrote (several times). There was one version of it where Damon did fight the Supermutants but I very much didn't like it. I'm happy with how these ones turned out and I think it fits the situation better. No rambling from me today though, I'll see everyone next time!
Next Chapter: 12/23, Fear of the Dark