Bushmasters Chapter 2 - Firewall of Deception, a fallout fanfic

Chapter 2 – Firewall of Deception

"Good kill mate! Are you fine? You should get checked out by Prescott." Jones shouted.

"No time. I still need to take care of a few things."

Murdock replied, fueled by a mix of unyielding curiosity and burning anger.

Doyle's voice announcing the destruction of all threats set Murdock in motion. Smoke from a distant battle built up at the ceiling as he strolled down the dark corridor. The first casualty of the battle came to view just before the first doorway. Chunks of blown-up Assaultron cluttered the ground, its torso torn apart from a missile.

Murdock finally found a source of the smoke after opening the steel door. He found himself standing in a long, wide hallway with three pairs of energy barriers, leading to dark rooms. At the center stood Sergeant Doyle with his Hellhounds, surrounded by a dozen Assaultron wrecks. Many still had flames dancing in their burned torsos. Murdock's presence initially went unnoticed, as the squad was preoccupied with inspecting their damaged exosuits.

"Sir, we got ambushed by cloaked robots from all sides. One KIA, Corporal Davis. A single robot charged up the head laser and melted the poor man's head off. Wait, what happened? You seem roughed up!" Doyle asked, puzzled.

"I'm sorry to hear that. David will be remembered as a hero. Regarding my condition, Corporal Fox might have to say something about that," Murdock replied.

"Right… But he was here with us and…" The realization dawned on Doyle. "Hold on, he should have been at the entrance with you."

"Correct. Fox disobeyed a direct order, letting emotions take control of him. I've been rushed by the Assaultron that slipped past you."

Murdock stated coldly, looking down at his battered armor. Fox opened his mouth to say something but held back the words. "Fox, Settle down at the tower for a week. Don't expect any supply runs, we are already low." Murdock berated, masking feelings of anger and betrayal.

"You… I've… This is bullshit! For what? Helping my brothers in need?!" Fox sputtered, looking around for support from his squad, yet none came. Everyone just quietly stared at him.

"Better watch your tone. We are soldiers, and we follow our orders!" Doyle barked.

"Screw his orders, they will only get us killed. I bet he didn't even bother trying to find out what happened to our families!" Fox snapped.

"Now… I'm fed up with your attitude! You are stripped of your rank." Murdock raised his voice, "Pack your crap and move to the tower. I don't want to see you here until we leave this facility, Private."

The anger that had been building up within Murdock almost unleashed. He had to act calm and decisive before the men, an emotion-fueled argument would only worsen things. So many options for punishment flowed through his mind, but he couldn't afford that. Not with such an integral team member, who many look up to. Doyle had personally escorted Fox outside, preventing him from escalating the argument.

Murdock tried putting the altercation behind him, focusing on the present.

The blue energy fields formed an impenetrable barrier between Murdock and six rooms. Barely any light managed to pass through, blocking the view of the interiors. He continued forward, eventually stopping before a heavy steel door. A small metal crate was lodged in the gap, holding it open. Murdock cautiously pressed a button on a nearby panel and it slowly opened.

As it creaked open, light flooded the hallway, momentarily blinding him. Murdock's eyes adjusted, revealing rows of towering server blocks, their surfaces gleaming with age but still thrumming with energy. Tiny maintenance eyebots zipped between the machines, their cold efficiency a stark contrast to the chaos outside. He took small steps forward, a million questions rushing through his head. Who built all this? Why here, in this desolate storage bunker?

Each server block bore the unmistakable emblem of RobCo Industries, its presence a constant reminder of the company's cold, unwavering dominance over technology. The fact that RobCo was in bed with the government was no secret, but this was beyond a standard military contract. Echoing heavy footsteps made Murdock spin around. Jones had finally caught up, his eyes wide from disbelief.

"So… Top Brass sent us here for a real mission after all," Jones said.

"No. This isn't their style. If they knew about this place, they'd send a team of experts—not us."

"Well, what now? I can't make sense of this, and I assume you can't either." Jones asked.

Murdock stayed silent, his adrenaline slowly wearing off. He desperately tried coming up with the next course of action, but his mind remained blank. This isn't what he expected. Most men placed their bets on some hidden shelter or maybe another heavy weapons stockpile.

"Hey mate, maybe we can ask others from the platoon. Our blokes from maintenance might know a thing or two." Jones suggested, recognizing that lost stare on Murdock's face.

"Hmmm… Good idea, send every last person with technical knowledge down here. We need answers. Also, check on Gemma, perhaps she might already be awake."

Murdock exclaimed, a plan forming in his head. He followed Jones out of the room, staying there surrounded by machines was out of the question. Even though the deadliest weapon the eyebots had was a welding torch, he couldn't shake off the feeling they were watching him, waiting for a time to strike.

A dim blue light emitting from the energy barriers accompanied Murdock as he nervously paced up and down the hallway. Hellhounds tried everything to force their way into the rooms, but the barriers just refused to budge. Even a direct hit from a HEAT missile proved to be inefficient, the only response they got from the unyielding obstacle was a mild flicker.

Murdock desperately tried peering into the rooms, but he just couldn't make out any details besides their relatively small size.

A group made up of technicians, mechanics, and engineers eventually assembled in the wide hallway. Whispers and muttering spread throughout the room. Murdock approached the group, concealing chunks of brain matter with his body, a grim reminder of the previous battle.

"Alright, let's skip the formalities and get straight to the point. I need your skills to make sense of this place. First of all, these energy fields must go, I want to know what they are hiding."

Murdock paused, gesturing at the obstacles. The group carefully inspected the barriers, whispering something among themselves.

"Quiet! You will have time to discuss later. The primary task is in the room ahead. We haven't found any documents about these servers, so figure out what purpose they serve and what they contain. Split up into groups depending on your skills. Be quick but careful. I need some rest, so keep Sergeant Jones updated on the progress. That's all, dismissed."

A heated discussion erupted in the group behind Murdock as he headed for the exit. With the last remains of adrenaline gone, his body felt weak and battered. The overworked muscles fought hard to keep Murdock moving, his eyelids constantly closing. Dr. Prescott met him on the stairs, demanding to examine him in the infirmary. Murdock just waved her off, ignoring the requests.

The power armor carried Murdock to the bed. The battered exosuit cast a tall shadow over him, the silent guardian bringing a sense of comfort. The mattress gave way beneath him, thin and hard, but it was the closest thing to comfort he'd felt all day. He sank into it, his muscles loosening, even as his mind refused to quiet. Murdock's exhausted body begged for rest, but the mind wouldn't budge. The last day's memories played in vivid, relentless loops. New plans and theories formed only to be promptly extinguished, like a match in a storm. Murdock eventually suppressed the flashing thoughts, his mind finally managing to doze off.

Nightmares about horrid mechanical contraptions terrorized his sleep. Every faint sound from the hallway woke him, his breathing quickening with each passing moment. All following attempts to fall asleep only sent him deeper into an endless web of dark corridors. One such nightmare made him bolt upright, sweat soaking the crumpled uniform. At least his body has finally relaxed, the unrelenting muscle pain reduced to a distant memory. The wall clock glowed faintly in the dim light. Eighteen hours. The realization hit him hard, a sudden jolt that cleared the fog in his brain. He had been out for almost a full day, despite the nightmares haunting every moment. Murdock wasted no time jumping back into the power armor, eager to learn about the progress downstairs.

The bunker hallways bustled with movement. Support staff dragged crates and tool boxes from the hangars down into the hidden section. Murdock demanded answers, but everyone just said the same thing. Talk to Ward.

"What is happening around here? I haven't authorized anything!" Demanded Murdock, finding Ward tinkering with electronic tools.

"No you haven't, but Sergeant Jones did. He went to take a nap, you've been out for a while." Ward stated bluntly, absorbed in his work.

"That doesn't answer my question. I want to know everything that has happened."

"We found the main generator and the server access terminal. They are locked behind high-end security firewalls." Ward gestured for Murdock to follow him into the server room.

"How is the hacking process going?"

"That's the issue. The system is still on lockdown. The only person I know who can lift it is strapped to tubes up at the infirmary. To make things worse, the security mainframe activated some kind of server shutdown protocol. By our estimates, everything on the servers will be erased between a few days and a week." Ward led him to a few server blocks at the corner. The servers stood in eerie silence, all lights turned off.

Murdock responded with a heavy sigh. That's the exact situation he'd feared. They are stuck without Gemma's skills. Only a single missing cog cripples a well-oiled machine of his platoon. The reality of their situation now truly settled on him.

Murdock scratched his chin, "Our only option now is to wake up Gemma." Murdock stated, sorting out his thoughts.

"I'm sure Dr. Prescott will have something to say about that," Ward muttered.

"Leave that to me. Do we at least have some good news? What about those energy fields?"

Ward raised his head from the tools and looked Murdock in the eyes. "We might have a way to peer inside, expose the interior to outside light. But it will be expensive."

"Spill it out. I don't have time for this" Murdock frowned.

"I need all our remaining EMP grenades, but Doyle refuses to hand them over. We can use them to weaken the field and with enough luck even disable it for a short time."

Murdock responded with a nod and began walking in circles with hands behind his back, weighing the options. The EMP grenades possessed a high tactical value, a dozen of them could take out a whole squad of robots or even power-armored foes. This whole situation could have been prevented if he had even a single one during the fight against the turret. Murdock made his way back to the hallway with the energy fields.

A faint buzzing of the impenetrable barrier accompanied his thoughts, as he intensely stared into its shivering blue light. What is it hiding? Are they even here to keep him out, or to contain something inside? Suddenly the energy field wavered for a split second, as it was reading his thoughts. Murdock swore that he could see a human silhouette just behind it, along with some unidentifiable rectangular shapes. The sight spiked his curiosity.

Vivid images of hi-tech armor and weapons flashed through his mind. He will likely waste the precious EMP grenades only to find a bunch of rotten target dummies. But what if they hide some ancient prototypes lost to time?

A sense of excitement and curiosity fought the rational voice in the back of his head. Murdock paced up and down the room, his glance eventually landing on a broken Assaultron in the corner next to a pool of blood. His men shed sweat and blood for this place, one of them even gave his life for it. Murdock had made up his mind.

Sergeant Doyle couldn't help but express his disagreement with this plan. To him, it seemed like a waste of fine weapons, but the possibility of new better toys made him reluctantly hand the grenades over. Ward eagerly awaited Murdock back in the server room, juggling around a wire.

"I see that curiosity has gotten the better of you. The EMP device should be ready in just a few minutes, I just need to finish the remote trigger," Ward said, reaching for the grenade cluster.

"Finally some good news. This thing isn't dangerous, right?" Murdock asked, glancing at the device.

Ward smirked. "Not unless you count frying a few circuits. I wouldn't build anything too risky… not after what I dealt with on the Oil Rig. Speaking of which, leave your power armor upstairs, just in case. We'll need to run like hell, and the pulse might only disable it for a few seconds."

Murdock frowned, curious. "I wonder what you have been doing at the Oil Rig, you'll have to tell me all about it sometime. I doubt a man with your skills was just fixing some jammed-power armor. Anyway, let me get rid of this thing." Murdock said, heading for the stairs.

He left the power armor suit in his quarters, but his recovering body struggled against the increased load. Murdock's back ached, a stream of sweat soaking his clothes. There is no way he can move quickly enough in this condition. Something has to be done about it. The sight of a distant silhouette in a white lab coat down the hallway presented Murdock with an idea.

He walked into the infirmary, the steps heavy. "Afternoon, doctor. How are the patients doing?"

Dr. Prescott glanced up, wiping her hands. "Gemma's stable but slow. Miller... not so much. This equipment's ancient—it's running on fumes. I'm not sure how long I can keep it functional. How's your recovery?"

Murdock shrugged. "Could be worse. My body's still a mess without the aid of my power armor."

Dr. Prescott glanced at him, noticing the strain in his movements. "I can't give you anything for the pain, the drugs are only for emergencies. We're running low, you know that."

Murdock scratched his chin, "I need Buffout. I know we've got some left."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Pushing yourself isn't going to help. It'll do more damage in the long run."

Murdock leaned in, voice tight. "We don't have the luxury of time - you said it yourself. The hidden section might be our only shot."

Dr. Prescott hesitantly handed Murdock a red pill, and he swallowed it without hesitation. A sudden jolt of energy buzzed through his muscles, instantly pushing the feeling of pain and fatigue into the background. Murdock straightened the posture and stretched his body. Not only could he walk with ease again, but an overwhelming urge to run took over. The heart thrummed, and the hands trembled with each step. Dr. Prescott watched in silent dismay as Murdock bolted out of the room without a single word.

The sight of Murdock sprinting toward him stopped Ward in his tracks, surprise etched across his face.

"Ehm… Just in time. We should fall back behind the corner before triggering the pulse. I'll let you do the honors," he said, holding out the end of a worn wire.

Murdock raised an eyebrow, looking between the wire and Ward. "What's this? I thought you were setting up a remote trigger."

Ward said nothing, just held his gaze, waiting. Murdock's fingers traced the wire, following its path until they reached the crude knot tied around the pin of an EMP grenade. It all clicked. He exhaled sharply, a mixture of disbelief and irritation flashing across his face.

"Seriously?" Murdock muttered under his breath. Without another word, they moved back behind the corner, joining the Charlie squad, who were crouched low and ready, scanning the room for potential threats. The dim light flickered overhead, casting long shadows that danced along the walls as the team prepared for the pulse.

The Hellhounds appeared relatively tame without their bulky exosuits, but the looks can deceive. Every Enclave soldier had to endure unforgiving infantry training before ever stepping foot into a power armor suit. Murdock tightly gripped the wire, his face twitching in anticipation. Doyle gave a thumbs-up gesture shortly after, and Murdock pulled the wire with all his strength. One, two, three… He counted the seconds until activation, …Five. A bright blue flash erupted from the doorway, temporarily outshining the fluorescent lights of the server room. Doyle barely took a step forward when Murdock dashed past the squad, his limbs moving with relentless speed and agility.

Murdock rushed into the hallway, finding the energy barriers flickering weakly, blue light stuttering as shadows danced along the walls. His heart sank when the first pair of rooms came into view—nothing but broken chunks of concrete. The next two rooms were the same. Dread set in as the barriers began to recover. His body ached with stinging pain, the drug's effect fading fast. But he pressed on, driven by a desperate hope to reach the final rooms.

Just as the energy field flickered for the last time, he caught a glimpse inside. For a split second, the shape of a tall, metallic figure dwarfed over him behind the barrier. Its polished black chest gleamed, marked by a familiar symbol—a white letter E, circled by stars. The logo of the Enclave.

Before Murdock could react, the barrier sealed shut, leaving him frozen, his mind struggling to process what he had just seen. Ward caught up shortly after.

"What a waste. At least we don't have to bother with… Wait, have you seen something?" The engineer asked, seeing Murdock's stunned look.

"I don't know..." Murdock replied after a moment of silence. He tried to describe the thing he saw to Ward, whose expression only grew more worried with each following sentence.

"Sounds like another robot." Sergeant Doyle theorized.

Ward's expression tightened. "If what you're saying is true, then we must keep these energy fields running. The risk is too high. You know all too well what kind of tech our leadership developed."

"You are failing to see the bigger picture. Remember, the leadership didn't know about this hidden section. Who knows how long it has been sitting here." Murdock argued back. He can't stop now, not when they are so close to answers.

"Absolutely not! The barrier stays closed. We have no way of opening it either way." Ward protested.

Murdock didn't respond immediately. Instead, he shot a pointed look at Sergeant Doyle, a silent command passing between them.

"Remember who you are talking to, Ward. Boss is here to give orders, and we are here to follow. Just because you know your way around fancy gadgets does not make you a better leader. If the thing inside gives us a combat advantage, we must do everything to get it." Sergeant Doyle pitched in, his voice filled with frustration. "Sorry for the interruption, boss."

Murdock allowed himself a brief, satisfied smile before crossing his arms, "Thank you, Sergeant. Finally a person with some sense. I was beginning to think you were all conspiring against me. Now, get the mainframe ready, it's just about time to wake Gemma from her nap."

Ward opened his mouth to argue back, but Doyle's raised hand stopped him. Murdock turned around, slowly stumbling away. Doyle helped to escort him up the stairs toward the infirmary.

Murdock crawled through the open door, finding Dr. Prescott sitting behind her table in the corner. She meticulously weighed various drugs and sorted them into small bottles, her expression tightening with each pill. A loud buzzing of the fluorescent lights replaced the radio, which normally played the same four patriotic songs on repeat. The strong lingering scent of alcohol sent a shiver down Murdock's spine. Not only was he reminded of his grueling recovery, but also of the true scope of the difficult task ahead. Dr. Prescott removed her glasses and raised her head, finally acknowledging Murdock's presence.

"You back already? I hope you bring some good news." She said a lingering hope flashing in her tired eyes.

Murdock scratched his forehead. "Maybe. Depends on what you do next."

Prescott stood up from the desk, nervously putting her hands into the lab coat pockets.

"My team had discovered ancient servers down there. A lead perhaps. We need Gemma's skills to access it. She has to wake up now, we are losing more data by the minute." Murdock stated with a blank expression on his face.

"We can't do that." Prescott exclaimed, "She still needs at least a week to recover."

"We can't afford to wait that long. It's my choice, get her ready now." Murdock replied, raising his voice.

Prescott hesitated, biting her lip. "You don't understand, she wasn't as lucky as you. Her hearing might…"

"I don't want to hear any more of it. Do as you are told!" Murdock cut her off sharply, his tone final.

The air felt still, only the sporadic beeping of distant machines broke the silence. Prescott blinked, then let out a shaky breath. She glanced toward the bed where Gemma lay, and back to Murdock. For a moment, it seemed as though she might push back again, but her shoulders slumped slightly.

"This isn't right…" She muttered under her breath, grabbing an empty syringe off the table.

Murdock followed her to the corner, where she pulled back the white curtains. For the first time since the incident, he saw her clearly. Gemma's fragile body lay motionless in the bed, her skin pale, almost ghostly. The bandages around her head were thick and tight, hiding the damage the shrapnel had done. Her face, though scarred, was so familiar it hurt to look at.

Murdock stood frozen, his eyes vacant, his mind struggling to process the sight before him. The mission, the urgency of the data, the platoon—all of it faded. Something deeper, long buried, started to stir inside him. The repressed memory pushed its way through the cracks, rising from the depths of his mind. His chin trembled, a wave of sorrow creeping into his chest, suffocating.

It was the eyes. He could remember them so clearly—the eyes that had once been full of life, now empty, staring right through him. The doctors had tried to pull him away, but he couldn't leave her. He couldn't let go. Her scorched skin flashed in his mind, burned into his memory. She had always been there for him, and when it mattered most, his ambitions got the better of him.

His fists clenched, the familiar tension winding through his muscles. She had always followed in his footsteps and trusted his judgment without question. They both believed it—mission success is all that matters. It had been hammered into them since day one. But now, the mission that had brought him so far had also taken her away.

His heart pounded, each beat a reminder of the failure, of the promise he had made to himself never to let it happen again. Not this time. Not with Gemma.

Murdock's breathing grew heavy. His chest tightened, and the guilt mixed with anger, boiled to the surface. He could feel the familiar burn in his gut. So many people under his command… but this—this was different. This was personal.

As Dr. Prescott reached for the syringe, Murdock's body moved on instinct. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist just before the needle could touch Gemma's skin.

Prescott gave him a puzzled, yet relieved look.

"I've changed my mind…" Murdock replied, hiding his trembling hands behind the back. "We can't afford the risk. She is too important for the platoon."

Despite Murdock's efforts to mask the emotions, the doctor sensed his struggle. With a sympathetic nod, she left him alone with Gemma.

The rhythmic beeping of the old heart monitor echoed in Murdock's mind. His limbs stiffened as he sat by Gemma's bed for what felt like hours. Eventually, the persistent growling of his hungry stomach forced him to sluggishly stand and head to the cafeteria.

The repeating song from a jukebox broken during the chair incident resonated with the cold walls. Jones hadn't been able to go out hunting for a while, so the only available food was locked inside an ancient rationing machine. Murdock ignored the faded bold red letters describing penalties for stealing rations, instead reaching for a screwdriver from a nearby table. He lunged it into a small hole where the control panel used to be, fumbling around until he heard a distinct click of the releasing mechanism. His eyes locked onto a small hole at the bottom in anticipation, wondering what delicacy would pop out. A small can of highly processed meat flew out, bouncing off his leg and landing on the floor with a metallic thud. Murdock let out a sigh and apathetically reached down to pick it up. The stale substance could barely pass as meat, its high salt content drying out his mouth in just a few bites.

Murdock's desperate attempt to find any fluid to relieve the uneasy taste resulted in him catching a glimpse of an old propaganda poster on the wall. The proud face of Uncle Sam smiled at him, while the generic slogan below faded away, lost to history. The eyes of the cartoon character were burned away with cigarettes by the bored soldiers, leaving its face with a hollow and sad stare. He touched the scar leading to his injured eye, sensing a strange sense of sympathy towards the patriotic mascot. A grin curled at the corner of his mouth.

HAIL TO THE CHIEF! BZZT

He let out a chuckle and chewed on the tasteless meat, the anthem's broken chorus echoing in the room. Once, he had sent men to die under that song, all for the ideals it represented. But now? Those ideals meant nothing. His rank, his sacrifices, and the countless victories under his belt, their significance vanished alongside the Oil Rig. The chevrons on his shoulders—symbols of a man who once had a purpose—now held no more value than the stale meat on his plate.

HAIL TO THE CHIEF! BZZT

The absurdity and twisted irony of the situation made Murdock start laughing. He continued staring into the scorched voids, wheezing, gasping for air. A few soldiers sitting in the cafeteria stared at him in awe and disbelief, but he didn't care. The world faded away, it was just him and Uncle Sam, locked into a bizarre staring contest, with the distorted anthem accompanying them. The true nature of his new world slowly becomes crystal clear. Although the rank and symbols on his shoulders might not have the same value anymore, the true meaning behind them still holds. Cracks of uncertainty are spreading across the crumbling dam Murdock is desperately clinging to. If he doesn't act decisively to patch them, the biblical flood of chaos will shatter any semblance of order. A firm grip on his shoulders silenced the laughter outburst.

"Wow, what's so funny? Ya good, mate?" Jones asked behind his back, dragging him back to reality.

Murdock just stared back at him, unsure how to respond.

"Okay… Why are you even eating that crap?" Jones eventually replied, pointing at the can of lunchmeat.

"Eheh… We ran out of meat yesterday, didn't we? I lost track." Murdock replied with a suppressed chuckle leaving his mouth.

Jones glanced toward the kitchen, "Well, yeah. But I can surely fish something for ya from my secret hideout. Come on, let's get cookin."

Murdock chuckled weakly, the laughter still echoing faintly in his chest as he followed Jones toward the kitchen. His muscles still tensed, the weight of the moment hanging in the back of his mind, even as the world resumed its normal rhythm around him.

Surely enough, Jones uncovered a stash of hidden boar chops under packs of vegetables in the freezer. He pulled out a cast iron frying pan from the drawer and got to work. The delicious scent of the roasting meat filling the stale air attracted a few curious soldiers. Jones jokingly chased them away holding a meat cleaver, chanting some Gibberish.

"Where did you even get these? I don't remember us bartering with merchants for any such ingredients." Murdock asked, seeing Jones add mushrooms and herbs to the pan.

"I found them out in the bush when hunting. They shouldn't be poisonous. At least some of them." Jones sneered.

"Very funny," Murdock muttered. "No really, how do you know which of them are edible, it's not like they taught us that during our survival training."

"Everything here is safe, while everything out there wants to kill ya," Jones replied in a mocking voice. "You're correct, they taught us bugger all about survival. Me and my men had to learn it the hard way, while in the field. All the while you sat on your ass fumbling with paperwork."

"Yeah, that's why I got promoted to captain, while you and your frog fucking mates crawled in the mud," Murdock muttered.

"Well, how did that work out for ya captain?" Jones chuckled, sarcasm evident in his tone. "I bet Becky would have a thing or two to say about that." He blurted. The room fell into tense silence. Murdock's head lowered and he clenched his fists.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry mate. I didn't mean that. What happened to your sister is not your fault." Jones looked him in the eyes, desperately trying to apologize. Murdock slowly stumbled away to the nearest chair and just quietly sat there, waiting for the meal.

"Here is your steak, once again sorry for what I've said. It just came out." Jones said in a quiet voice, handing Murdock a plate.

"No need to apologize, Sergeant. I need your situation report about the time I was asleep." Murdock said in a serious tone, a blank expression etched on his face.

"Oh… okay. Nothing major happened. The technicians just scoured the server room. Actually, I'd found Ward gutting your command vertibird spouting mumbo-jumbo about magnetic barrier jamming thingy."

"Did he demand EMP grenades from you for that device as well?"

"Grenades? No, why? This felt like another big project of his." Jones replied.

Murdock abruptly stood up from the chair, his head dizzy from the blood pressure change. He pushed Jones aside without a single word and charged away while swallowing down another Buffout pill. That snake played him for a fool this whole time. The whole EMP grenade stunt was just a way for Ward to find out what's inside. All the dots started connecting in his head.

Murdock made his way into the hangar for the first time in weeks, and surely enough, somebody tinkered with the command vertibird. A large ECM device from the tail was nowhere to be found. As he headed downstairs, a deep sense of betrayal and anger began boiling below his skin.

Ward saw him coming in his peripheral vision, "I see Dr. Prescott refused to wake Gemma up." Ward confidently stated, raising his head from the toolbox.

"Looks like you were right, Dr. Prescott refused to wake her from comma this early. So what now? Do we have any other way to bypass the security systems? We need to disable those barriers and save the data." Murdock replied, forcing himself to remain calm.

"There is no other way than hacking it, I've already told you that."

Murdock paused for a moment, thinking about his next steps. "Damn it! I'll have to think of something else now. What a waste of our time." He sighed, pretending to be disappointed.

"Do you know what happened to my vertibird? I found it in a rough shape during my random inspection today." Murdock questioned.

Ward's eyes widened, sensing something was up. "Well… It's nothing serious, we had to do routine maintenance." The web of Ward's lies tangles by each sentence.

"Maintenance? A few days after Miller made a full inspection of our entire squadron?" Murdock replied with fury beginning to shine in his eyes.

The engineer began backing up, knowing his lie was up. "Look, I had to…" He blurted out, but Murdock slammed him into the wall by his collar.

"Bullshit. What kind of fucking idiot do you take me for? You knew how to bypass the security system all this time!" He yelled, pressing Ward's face against the wall. "You better start explaining, before I label you as a traitor."

"Okay! Alright! I'll spill everything, just let me go." Ward pleaded, dropping the act. Murdock loosened his grip, releasing him.

Ward tucked back his blue shirt, his face contorted into a serious and concerned expression.

"Listen to me, I had no other choice. We must ensure the old world secrets lie buried. Especially when they're associated with the Enclave."

"I don't? Well, enlighten me then." Murdock replied in a mocking tone.

"I'm here because I've secretly sabotaged some kind of bioweapon based on the pre-war virus. You probably haven't heard of it, it was a tightly kept secret. If successful, the project would lead to an untold amount of suffering and destruction in the wasteland." Ward explained.

Murdock paused, reflecting on his newfound knowledge. He always suspected that Top-Brass was involved in some shady business, but this was way worse than he'd ever imagined. The puzzles in his head slowly started connecting. He recalled the 12-foot-tall green monstrosity that used to be a Secret Service agent. All those people flew in from the wasteland sent into the Biolabs, never to leave again. There was a grain of truth to Ward's lies. The commotion attracted the attention of nearby soldiers and technicians, who watched the argument in awe.

"Alright, let's say I believe you. What does that have to do with us?" He eventually replied.

"You don't get it, Murdock. I sabotaged the project because I had no choice. That virus… it would've wiped out everything. I couldn't let them unleash it. I'm trying to stop something like that from happening again!"

Murdock frowned upon hearing the defiant words. This was their only way forward, the last lead towards the future. Murdock's hands trembled at his sides. His heart pounded in his chest, a war drum he could no longer ignore. The future hung in the balance, and these pointless arguments were a noose tightening around his neck. Uncle Sam's hollow eyes burned in his mind, a reminder of his potential fate. He hastily snatched a plasma rifle from the hands of a nearby soldier.

"Listen to facts; somebody has tried accessing this place twice already. They may come back, but no robots and hidden walls stand in their way this time." He said, running his fingers across the cold surface of the rifle.

"Between us or them, who would you rather have access to those secrets? Accessing the data now at least gives you an option to decide what happens to it." Ward flinched as Murdock pushed the rifle into his stomach, sweat pouring down his forehead. Engineer's lips trembled, but he said nothing, eyes darting to the soldiers watching the confrontation unfold.

"What if the data contains something crucial to stop more suffering? The servers may hold immense knowledge, just imagine it. Medical procedures, ancient books, historical records..." Murdock flicked off the safety. The rifle sprawled to life, emitting a green light. Ward's shoulders loosened, and sweat began trickling down his forehead. Yet his face still displayed stubborn determination.

"The benefits greatly outweigh the potential risks. How could you live with yourself, knowing your action may have robbed our children of their future?" Murdock pressed the warm barrel into Ward's stomach, his chest rising quickly under the quick breaths. He tried to take a step back, but Murdock followed him to the wall and pinned him to the cold concrete again.

Ward's face displayed hints of uncertainty, clearly working through something in his mind. They both stood in silence for what felt like minutes, absorbed in thoughts.

"I see your point. The information has the potential to make a big difference in this world…" Ward proclaimed, his voice shaking.

Murdock smiled, loosening his grip on the rifle, "Perfect, I'm glad you are finally seeing reason."

He took a deep breath and finally pulled back the rifle, leaning it against the wall. Ward exhaled slowly, the weight of the decision settling on his shoulders. He met Murdock's gaze, his voice quieter now.

"I will bypass the security, but you have to promise me…" He paused, rubbing fingers on his temples. "If we uncover anything dangerous, we burn this place to the ground. No exceptions."

Murdock looked him in the eyes and nodded. The reaction satisfied Ward, so he continued, "Also, there's a catch. As you might've noticed, I need the electronic countermeasure unit from the vertibird. I can either reconfigure it to save the servers by bypassing the firewall or disable the energy fields. Still, like you said, the information on those servers could be irreplaceable."

Murdock hesitated, his eyes flicking between the shimmering blue barrier and the rows of server data on the screen. The secrets behind that barrier could change everything—give him the edge he needed. But the data… the data might hold the key to a future far beyond any weapon. He couldn't afford to gamble it all on a wild dream. Not now.

Murdock nodded, his tone firm but measured. "Good. Then we move forward, carefully. We're doing this for the future—for all of us."

The engineer headed toward a pile of tools and electronic components which technicians dragged in, revealing the ECM unit hidden below a tarp. A few technicians from the server room got to work under his directions. As the hours passed by, the growling and pain in Murdock's stomach only increased, but he ignored it.

The last thing he needs is to meet Jones and distract himself with old memories. Especially now when he's so close. Just one more step, and he finally gets the answers.

"We're ready." Ward proudly announced, stepping back and revealing the completed device.

It looked like nothing special to Murdock, just a microwave-sized box with a makeshift control panel on the side. All the technical terms flew straight over his head.

"Let's get this thing working then." He ordered.

Ward nodded and signaled one of his assistants to start pulling the device on a small red trolley to the center of the server room. The device emanated a sharp buzzing sound, as the engineer fiddled with the controls.

"We are getting closer to the security mainframe," Ward muttered, pointing his finger toward one wall. The buzzing intensified as they approached the concrete, resonating off the tall ceiling. Its buzzing became almost deafening, prompting Murdock to cover his ears, his old injuries surfacing to light. Ward shouted something at his assistants, while carefully servicing the control panel, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Not even a minute later, the buzzing suddenly vanished. The server room fell into silence, only interrupted by occasional maintenance eyebot.

Ward looked at his leader with excitement in his eyes, "We did it. I've severed the connection between the security mainframe and the servers."

He rushed to the main console, furiously typing on its faded keyboard. The initial excitement was soon replaced by pure confusion. Murdock approached him in anticipation of the discovery.

"Explain everything. I need to hear some good news." He demanded. The only response he got was Ward's unrecognizable mumbling as he meticulously scanned the screen.

"Answer me now! If you delete anything, I swear…" Murdock shouted, signs of uncertainty seeping into his voice.

"I… This makes no sense. The servers contain thousands upon thousands of files. But the files are nothing but a string of numbers, letters… and symbols." Ward stuttered.

"Slow down, what are you trying to say…"

"This is the first time I've seen this file type. I'm no computer expert, this is simply beyond my understanding."

"Are you telling me we did all this for nothing?!" Murdock raised his voice, desperation slowly creeping in.

"Maybe Gemma could shed some light on this. I don't know."

"Is there anything you know!?" Murdock shouted, but the engineer just continued to blankly stare ahead, his breath fogging the screen.

"Hold on, I've found a foreign program running in the background… Oh shit…" Ward paused. "It interfaced with our comms gear and sent out a signal…"

Murdock's heart skipped a beat upon hearing the news.

"Where is the signal traveling?" He demanded.

"Untraceable," Ward replied, a deep sensation of dread evident in his tone. "We just have to hope the receiving side is still not among the living."

"Hope is not a thing we can afford now! Fantastic job, genius. Accessing the servers instead of the energy barriers was your idea. Now we are left with fuckall." Murdock raised his voice, smashing his fist against the keyboard. Ward tried reassuring him that Gemma could get something out of this, but Murdock didn't listen.

He turned away from the console, leaving the room. The significance of the signal can't be underestimated, Gemma's warning echoed in the back of his thoughts. Somebody had been at this bunker only ten years ago. Maybe the receiving side was truly gone, the wasteland is an unforgiving place, after all.

Murdock clenched his fists, unable to shake the gnawing feeling clawing at his mind. Whoever—or whatever—had just received that signal might not be so easily dismissed.