Author's Note: Hello everyone. I hope that everyone is doing well. This story now has over 100 followers! Special shout-out to my 100th follower, Firefox24x! Thanks to all of you for your continued support. The title of this chapter is based on the song of the same title by the group Rise Against. It is a very good song in my opinion, and I find the lyrics somewhat relatable to the Lone Wanderer's story. Ok, I've talked enough. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.
(Same time, Utah-Nevada border)
The sun was beginning to set as Fawkes stopped to make camp in a forest that seemed untouched by the nuclear war two-hundred years ago. It had been a long journey, but he was getting close to his ultimate destination: to reconnect with his friend, his brother-in-arms, Mark Franklin. He was in a small clearing, and after putting down his Gatling laser and rucksack, he gathered some wood and soon had a fire started.
He then sat down, opened his rucksack and pulled out some meat from a two-headed deer that he had killed a while back. It was such a fascinating creature, and he felt bad about killing it, but he did need to eat. Not as often as a human would need to, but still. He looked around the forest. He found it rather peaceful and serene. He could easily spend days in it, exploring its wonders, but that would have to wait for another time.
He got the feeling that something was brewing, and that his friend would need his assistance once again. As he took a bite of the rather tasty meat, he thought back to the last time that he had seen his friend.
(Approximately two-and-a-half months ago)
Fawkes had just stepped off the bridge and back onto the grounds of the Jefferson Memorial, seeing Brotherhood personnel scurrying about, barrels of water waiting to be loaded, and brahmin waiting to be saddled with the water.
After the events at Adams Air Force Base a little over a week ago, his friend, the one they called the Lone Wanderer, Mark Franklin, said that he needed some time to himself. Fawkes was a bit disappointed, as he still felt he owed him, but honored his request. To keep himself busy, he decided to stay at the Jefferson Memorial to help with the distribution of the water. For the past week, he helped load the brahmin, as his superior strength made that task much easier.
He had also gone on a couple of deliveries, as most people would think twice about trying to attack a caravan protected by Brotherhood personnel and a super mutant wielding a Gatling laser. Attacks weren't really a problem anymore, but it was better to be safe than sorry, especially when the route took them near Fort Independence, where the Outcasts resided.
As for the people that worked on the project, it was a bit of a mixed bag when it came to the level of comfortability around him. Some were wary of him, and given their previous encounters with his fellow meta-humans, he honestly couldn't blame them. Others, however, were quite friendly with him once they realized that he didn't have any desire to kill them. He had become quite friendly with the Pride as well, who had checked in occasionally on Sarah and Mark while they were both in a coma.
There was one member of the Pride, Colvin, whom he liked to talk to especially. Colvin was apparently a religious man, and he and Fawkes would talk about religion and philosophy as time allowed. He had also spoken with the Elder, Owyn Lyons. He was grateful to the man for allowing him to stay in the Citadel to watch over his friend. The Elder had commended him for his assistance in fighting the Enclave and the numerous other threats that plagued the Capital.
As such, he was declared an honorary member of the Brotherhood, and was given special arm and leg guards made from scraps of destroyed power armor. They were emblazoned with the Brotherhood logo so that he would not be shot on sight by Brotherhood personnel or Rivet City Security. The Rivet City Security Chief, Harkness, informed him that he was not allowed onto the ship without an escort. It was nothing personal, the Chief had informed him, it was just again, some people were still wary of mutants. Fawkes understood, and as it was their home, he respected their rules.
Fawkes took a walk up the catwalk that went over the pipes that water gushed out of, and as he got to the other side, he saw a lone figure near the water's edge, staring out over the ocean. Fawkes would know that sight anywhere. It appeared that his friend had returned. He walked over to him, and as he got closer, Mark started to speak without turning around, causing Fawkes to stop.
"It makes you feel small, doesn't it? I saw maps of the world in the vault, and I've seen how much of the world the ocean covers, but those maps don't do it justice. What we're looking at is just a mere fraction of what is out there." "It certainly does make one feel insignificant, my friend," Fawkes replied. Mark continued. "It is beautiful, yet terrifying at the same time. For while it is calm on the surface, underneath holds many dangers not seen by the eyes of man."
Mark turned and looked at Fawkes. The meta-human saw sadness in his friend's eyes, although he appeared to try and hide it. "How've you been, Fawkes?" "I am well, Mark. And you?" Mark shrugged. "I've been better. How are things going around here?" "They are well. Things are certainly not as exciting as our adventures, but I am enjoying helping out and showing that while we appear to be so, that not all mutants are monsters."
Fawkes paused. "I heard on the radio that you returned to your vault. Was there truth in that?" he asked. A brief look of pain crossed Mark's face, but it was gone as fast as it came. "Yeah, it's true," Mark replied. "You do not appear to be happy. Did something happen to your friend Amata?"
Mark shook his head. "No, no, she's fine. She, uh, she sent a distress message to me. Needed me to save the vault." "And like the proverbial knight in shining armor, you responded to your lady's call. Did you save the vault?" the self-proclaimed meta-human asked. "Oh, yeah, I did. She's the overseer now."
"But something else happened," Fawkes said. It was not a question, but a statement of fact. Mark chuckled grimly. "Oh, yeah, you could say that again. She exiled me, Fawkes. People down there still blame me and my dad for what happened, so she needed me to leave. Then we had an argument. Told her that our friendship was over, that she would get no help from me with the wastes except for the book I gave her, and that she was going to get what was coming to her. In short, I was a gigantic fucking idiot."
"Yes," Fawkes said, "it does sound like you made a mistake, but have you two not fought before? Have you not made up?" "This is different, Fawkes. I can't go back and apologize. The door code has likely been changed, and no one wants me down there in the first place. No, I burned that bridge. No, scratch that, I blew the bridge to smithereens with a crapload of mini nukes. That's partly why I'm here now. I'm leaving, Fawkes."
Fawkes looked at him in confusion. "Where are you going, my friend?" Mark waved a hand in the general direction of the Citadel. "The Brotherhood's going out to the west coast to try and reconnect with the other chapters out there. I'm going out there with them, but-" "You won't be returning with them," Fawkes finished.
Mark nodded. "May I ask why?" the meta-human queried. Mark sighed and sat down on the ground next to his duffel bag, once again looking out over the ocean. Fawkes sat next to him. "There are too many painful memories out here, Fawkes. Between the chaos in the vault, my dad dying, all the fighting, Amata…"
He looked at the ground. "I can't do this anymore, Fawkes. I need a fresh start, and I think this is the right time. The Capital is at peace for the first time since the bombs fell. The Brotherhood's recruiting people in record numbers, and with no need to press recruits into service, they can be properly trained. The Wasteland Survival Guide is teaching people how to protect themselves. The people don't need me anymore."
"I need to go somewhere where they don't know my name or know what I've done. I just needed to see this place one more time before I left. I didn't want my last memory of this place to be me nearly dying. Unfortunately, my parents did die here. Their lives were inextricably tied to this place, and mine is, too, although for many years unknowingly. I just needed to try and get some closure. Didn't really work, but at least I tried."
There was silence between the two friends, the sloshing of the water upon the shoreline the only sound to be heard. "Well," Fawkes said after a couple minutes, "I cannot fault you for wishing to start anew. We all have our own paths to walk in life, and if this is what you feel that you need to do, then I will not try to change your mind. If this truly is our goodbye, then allow me to say that I will be forever indebted to you for freeing me and allowing me to fight by your side."
Mark chuckled. "Fawkes, I've told you before and I'll tell you again: You don't owe me anything. You got me the GECK after I freed you. That made us even." Mark picked up a rock and threw it into the water. "You fought with me, kept a vigil over me, and were always there with some words of wisdom. You are my friend, and you will always be my friend."
Fawkes gave him a pat on the back. "Thank you, Mark. I shall always consider you my friend, no matter how many miles separate us." Mark smiled, as did Fawkes, although it looked like a bit of a grimace for the mutant. Mark stood back up, Fawkes soon following. "Before I go, could I ask a favor of you, Fawkes?" "Anything, my friend," the mutant replied. "One day, Vault 101 is going to open to the world. It's a lot to ask, but would you mind keeping an eye on her, on Amata, just to make sure she gets to and from the vault safely? The wastes are safe now, but you never know."
Fawkes nodded. "It would be an honor and a privilege, my friend. As with you, I will stay with her for as long as she will have me. I will ensure that no harm comes to her, even if I need to lay down my life to do so." "Thanks, Fawkes. That's a load off my mind. Just remember, none of them have ever seen a mutant before. When you do see her, just say "Revelations 21:6." That should get her to trust you. She knows that verse as well as I do."
He reached down, grabbed his bag, and hefted it over his shoulder. "I gotta go, Fawkes, so I guess that this is goodbye." "Goodbye, my friend. Perhaps our paths will cross again one day." Mark smiled. "I would like that, Fawkes. Best of luck to you." "You as well, my friend." Mark patted Fawkes on the arm and headed to the catwalk.
Fawkes watched his friend leave. "Mark!" Fawkes called out as he was halfway up the ramp. Mark stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Yeah, Fawkes?" "Wherever you may wander, just know that you are never alone." Mark nodded, looked away, and continued his walk.
(Present Day)
That was the last time he had seen Mark. He had learned a couple days later that Amata had tracked Mark to the Citadel. The two of them had been able to reconcile, and she had chosen to leave with him. That had made the meta-human smile, as he believed that Mark deserved all the happiness in the world.
With his assistance no longer needed concerning Amata, he had continued to assist the Brotherhood with the distribution of the water, until a short while ago, that is. He had been meditating in the lower levels of the Jefferson Memorial one night when he got the strangest feeling. He heard a voice in his head, one that was not his own. It seemed to be that of a young child, and the words spoken were "the cry of the 87th man."
He believed the "87th man" part was a reference to himself, being from Vault 87. He did not know in what context the words were spoken, but a gut feeling told him what it meant: His friend needed him once more. Heeding the call, he informed the Brotherhood the next day that he was departing, citing a desire to see the rest of the country.
He was able to subtly gain the location of his friend, and then departed. Before he left, the Brotherhood had been kind enough to give him some provisions, including some spare ammunition for his weapon of choice. They had given him a map of the country, which he appreciated, but didn't need. He couldn't explain why, but he knew that he would be able to find Mark, no matter where he was. It was good to know the location, however, just in case.
Traveling across the country had allowed him to see and experience many new things. Yes, there were some bad spots, but there were also parts that were untouched by the nuclear fallout. He saw people living in small communities, trying to rebuild, like the mythical phoenix rising from the ashes. He stayed away from these communities, as he did not want to cause any panic, so he simply observed them from afar.
There was one time, however, when he was traveling at night that he saw a settlement being attacked by raiders. The settlement did have walls, but they were being broken down, and it was clear that the settlers were outmatched. Using the cover of darkness, Fawkes got behind the raiders, and mercilessly mowed them down with his Gatling laser. They never stood a chance. He did not think that the settlers ever saw him, as once the raiders were all dead, he hastily made off.
He took another bite of the meat when he heard footsteps approaching. He quickly stood up and grabbed his Gatling laser, aiming it in the direction of the noise. A large figure, one about the same size of himself, came into the clearing, its arms raised. The being appeared to be a mutant such as himself, although different. Its skin was blue, with heavy-duty chains wrapped around its neck and left arm. There were scars all over its body, and the word "DOG" was carved into its chest.
"Fear not," the being said in an articulate voice, "I mean you no harm." "What are you?" Fawkes asked. "I could ask you the same thing," the mutant said. Fawkes examined the other mutant, and despite his rough outward appearance, Fawkes felt that he did mean no harm. "That is true," Fawkes said, lowering his weapon. "Where I am from, they call me a "super mutant," although I prefer a different term." "And where I am from, they call me a "nightkin." May I join you? It has been a long while since my last interaction with an intelligent being."
Fawkes nodded and sat back down. The nightkin sat across from him. Fawkes offered him some of the meat, to which he accepted. "So, what brings you out here?" he asked Fawkes. "I am on a journey to reconnect with an old friend. You?" The nightkin took a bite of the meat. "I am also seeking someone out, although I still have a ways to go." Fawkes nodded. "Forgive me, I have not asked your name. Is that it carved into your chest?"
The nightkin shook his head. "No. That is the name of my…alter-ego, you could say. Our relationship is complicated. I call myself God. And you?" "I am called Fawkes." The nightkin stiffened. There was no way he found him all the way out here. "I did not mishear you? You are Fawkes?" The meta-human nodded. "You wouldn't by any chance be from a place called DC, would you?"
Fawkes looked at God curiously. "Yes, I am. How did you know that?" God chuckled. "It would appear that my search has come to an unexpected end. I believe that we have a mutual friend, one who goes by the name of Mark Franklin." "You know my friend? He is the one that I seek. He freed me from my imprisonment, and to repay him, I fought by his side in a great struggle. I have a feeling that he will be involved in another great struggle, and he will need me by his side once more."
God took a bite of the meat. "I also owe him. He freed me from the clutches of my alter-ego's master. He told me of you, and I was heading east to seek you out. Destiny, it would appear, has other plans. If you believe that he will be involved in a struggle, then perhaps he would benefit from both of us at his side. Would you mind a traveling companion?" "I would like that, for I too have been lacking in intelligent conversation," Fawkes answered.
God put the rest of the meat in his mouth. "Well then, I believe that we should make haste. He mentioned a place called "Vegas," so we should head there. We will need to take to the roads, and hopefully we can find signs to lead us there." Fawkes shook his head. "Not necessary, my friend. I have been following a…gut feeling, if you will, that has been getting stronger with each passing day. Wherever he is, we will find him."
"Ok then," God said, "I will follow your lead. Shall we go?" Fawkes stood up. "Yes, but first we must put this fire out. No sense in harming this piece of nature not touched by the follies of the old world." Fawkes and God put out the fire, and Fawkes collected his rucksack and weapon. The two mutants then made their way into the forest, heading towards a reunion with their mutual friend.
(Same time, Citadel)
Brotherhood Sentinel Sarah Lyons found herself walking around the B-ring of the Citadel. It was a bit after 8 PM, and training had concluded for the day. Ever since the defeat of the Enclave, the Brotherhood's ranks had swelled considerably. People had come from all over the Capital Wasteland to join and it was all thanks to Mark.
Hearing about Mark's exploits, or occasionally seeing them in person, had inspired the people to take up arms against those that would harm them. They believed that the Brotherhood was the best option to get proper training to do so. They had routed out a few people who wanted to join simply to get their hands on Brotherhood tech, but most were accepted into their ranks as initiates and given proper training.
Quite a few of them were turning out to be very competent soldiers. They were a bit rough around the edges, but those would be smoothed out with time. While some would eventually end up as Scribes, everyone was trained to fight. With more soldiers, that meant that the water caravans were better protected, and any threats were eliminated before they could become an issue. This made her father very happy, as he felt vindicated against the Outcast betrayers and the High Elders in Lost Hills who cut off their support once her father told them that he was ignoring their orders.
When her father was out and about during the day, he appeared to have a bit more pep in his step, but Sarah and Scribe Rothchild, her father's closest advisor, knew it was all an act to improve morale. The stress from dealing with the Enclave and various other threats had taken an irreversible toll on him. She had seen him in his quarters at night, and she saw him as he truly was: a frail old man. She feared that he was not long for this world.
It broke her heart to see him like that. She had been only three years old when they made the trek from California to DC, and by then he was already past his fighting prime. When she was growing, the others had told her stories about him in his younger days. He was a machine on the battlefield. There was rarely any wasted movement, and he was one of the best shots in the Brotherhood.
She was enamored by these stories. He was her hero, and she worked hard in her training to make him proud of her. She had risen through the ranks quickly, attaining the rank of Sentinel, a rank that was rarely awarded. There were some grumblings about favoritism, but the majority knew about her fighting and leadership skills on the battlefield.
During her tenure as a Paladin, her father and top advisors asked her to form her own team to act as a special-ops group. She was honored, and promptly named the group the "Lyons Pride." She had read about lions in an old-world book, and how groups of lions were called prides, and that they were fierce creatures that took care of their own. The name fit perfectly, with her last name being Lyons, and the fact that Brotherhood soldiers were fierce fighters that had each other's backs.
Except for those Outcast bastards. It made her blood boil every time that she thought about them. They had betrayed their own, and she would love nothing more than to execute them one by one for desertion. Her father, however, still felt sympathetic towards them, so his standing orders to this day were to not engage them unless they engaged any Brotherhood member first. The only action he took against them was to strike their names from the Codex.
She had been about seven when the Outcasts had left, and saw the pain that it caused her father, as well as the anger of the others that had remained loyal to her father and the Brotherhood. Ever since that day, she held a grudge against them. Her father wouldn't take any action against them, although Sarah pleaded against that with the Capital now at peace.
He flat-out refused, and as long as he was Elder, she would not disobey his orders. When she eventually succeeded him as Elder, however, the Outcasts would rue the day that they left under the cloak of darkness like the cowards that they were. There was a reason that there was a saying in the Citadel, that you don't mess with the Lyoness.
"Hey, Sarah!" a feminine voice called out to her. Sarah stopped in her tracks and turned around. It was Reilly Finnegan, the leader of the merc group Reilly's Rangers. After the Battle for Project Purity, her father had allowed them sanctuary in the Citadel should they ever need it. The Brotherhood had a policy of not associating with mercenaries, but with how they fought in that battle, combined with the fact that Mark trusted them, her father had made an exception.
Sarah had to admit that the Rangers worked well as a team, and they had outperformed some members of the Brotherhood in that battle. "Hey, Reilly. How have you been?" Sarah asked as she resumed walking, Reilly joining her. "Ah, not bad. How about you?" Sarah shrugged. "I'm okay. Wish that I could go out into the field more these days, but with all of the big threats gone, a special-ops team is rarely needed."
"My team has been split up. Everyone but me goes out on patrols with different squads, and I'm stuck here helping to train the newbies. It is really frustrating." "Well," Reilly said, "that's the price that we pay for peace, I guess." "You're lucky," Sarah said. "At least you guys can take on contracts. If the Codex didn't forbid mercenary work, I'd ask to join you." "Well, we'd love to have you if this whole Brotherhood thing doesn't work out for you." Sarah smiled. "Appreciate the offer, Reilly, but I'm in it for the long haul."
They walked in silence for a few moments. "Do you ever wonder how Franklin's doing these days?" the Ranger leader asked. "Yeah, sometimes. I'm sure that he's fine, though. He's got his girl, and he's living in a small town in the middle of nowhere. After everything that he's done, he deserves his peace, and I'm happy for him." "You'll get no argument from me on that," Reilly said. She chuckled. "Who'd have thought that the person we needed to solve all our problems was some scrawny kid who lived in a vault for two decades, huh?" Sarah made a noncommittal grunt and the two kept walking.
"Hey Sarah, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but did anything ever happen between the two of you, you know, romantically?" Reilly saw the normally stoic Sentinel blush. "Oh, something did happen!" Reilly said, grabbing Sarah to make her stop walking. "Well, come on girl, spill!"
"Look, we were never…intimate, if that's what you're asking. The night we got back from Adams, everyone was celebrating, and the alcohol was flowing. Somehow, the two of us ended up in my quarters, and as alcohol has been known to do, our inhibitions may have been lowered a bit. We were making out on my bed, and hands were roaming, and eventually he was on top of me, both of us sans clothing."
"Let me tell you something, that girl of his, Amata, is so damn lucky. His fingers were like magic." Sarah shuddered a bit as she thought back to that night. "So? What happened next?" Reilly asked as she started to get a bit hot under the collar. "He was just about to, ah, holster his pistol, and in my inebriated state, I may have told him to show me how they do it in the vault. Let me tell you, that sobered him up real quick."
"All of a sudden, he jumps off the bed, grabs his clothes, apologizes, and runs out of the room before I realized what was happening. I caught him the next morning as he was leaving for Megaton, and we talked about it. It wasn't that he didn't find me attractive, it was just that he was saving himself for Amata. There was no harm done, and we're good now."
"Wow, so you saw the whole hero, huh? So, uh, how big is he?" Before Sarah could reply, someone behind them cleared their throat. They both wheeled around, seeing Elder Lyons. Sarah looked mortified. "Dad! I mean Elder!" she said. "Sarah, Ms. Finnegan," Elder Lyons said, nodding to each of them. "Uh, Elder, sir, how much of that did, uh, did you hear?" Sarah asked. Elder Lyons chuckled. "Enough to get the gist of it, Sarah, but don't fret. I have not forgotten that you are a woman, and that you have needs. However, fathers usually do not like to hear about their daughter's sexual encounters, so next time, might I suggest having this type of conversation in private, instead of the B-ring hallway?"
Both Sarah and Reilly realized that they were still in the hallway where anyone could have heard them, and both blushed. "Sorry, Elder. It will not happen again," Sarah stated. "Yeah, what she said," Reilly added. He nodded. "Very well. Sarah, I need to speak with you on an urgent matter. Since you are here, Ms. Finnegan, I think that you should join us as well, considering this concerns the person that you were just speaking of."
Sarah became worried. "What about him? Did something happen to him?" Elder Lyons shook his head. "Not out here. Come to my quarters." The three of them made their way to the Solar, which is the Elder's personal quarters. It consisted of two rooms. The first room was a sitting room, where there were three white couches arranged in a semi-circle around a coffee table. Past that was the door to the Elder's bedroom. Sarah closed the outer door behind them.
"Please have a seat, ladies, and I will be back in a moment," the Elder said as he went into his bedroom. Sarah and Reilly both sat down on the middle couch. A few moments later, Elder Lyons returned, a file folder in his hand, and sat down on the couch to their left. "Before I explain why I wish to speak with you two, while we are in here, you both have permission to speak freely, understood?" Both Sarah and Reilly nodded.
"Around 11:30 this morning, we received a transmission from my counterpart in the Mojave. I was surprised, to say the least, and thought it to be a joke, but he was on a restricted frequency, and had the proper authentication codes." "Why are they contacting us, dad? When we were there, they barely listened to what we had to say. Well, except for this one woman, who was really interested in us."
"Yes, I read your reports about what happened. This, however, is mostly unrelated to that visit. As I said a few minutes ago, this has to do with our friend, Mr. Franklin. It appears that Mark met with Elder McNamara recently and made quite an impression on him." "Dad, how did Mark even find them? Hidden Valley's location is supposed to be a secret, and why would Mark meet with him in the first place?"
"It would appear that Mr. Franklin befriended a "somewhat rogue scribe," as Elder McNamara described her, and she had learned about his association with us, and no, I do not know how she learned that, as Elder McNamara does not know either." "Uh, yeah, question," Reilly said, "and either of you can answer. What exactly is the deal with you and this other chapter? Just so I have a better understanding of what's going on here."
"I'll answer that, Reilly, um, if you don't mind, dad, that is." Sarah said. Elder Lyons waved a hand, indicating for her to go on. "The Brotherhood was founded out on the west coast after the Great War. Its purpose was to collect dangerous tech so that the Great War would never happen again. People outside of the original group were not allowed to join. When a contingent came east, my dad decided to protect the populace against the super mutants and other threats instead. Brotherhood leadership at our headquarters in California didn't like that, so they cut us off. No reinforcements, no supplies."
"In their eyes, we're a rogue chapter, and the Mojave chapter feels the same as HQ. After the whole business with the Enclave and all that, we decided to go west to meet with them, using Mark's exploits as an example that letting outsiders in can be beneficial. Long story short, it didn't go well. I got the feeling that they were doing this as kind of a courtesy. In my opinion, we're better off without them. We're doing just fine by ourselves, thank you very much."
"Yes, that is basically what happened," Elder Lyons said. "That brings us back to this," he said referencing the file in his hand. "It appears as if young Mr. Franklin has found himself in the middle of another war, one that could determine the fate of the Mojave." Reilly laughed. "Of course he has. That man is a trouble magnet." Elder Lyons smiled. "Yes, our friend does seem to find himself in these types of predicaments quite often."
He paused for a moment. "Elder McNamara has made a request, and after much thought, I have decided to grant it. Sarah, the remaining members of the Pride are being recalled from the field. You are going to take the them, and a few selected others, to assist Mr. Franklin. Everything that you need to know is in here." He handed the folder to Sarah.
"Officially, you and your team will be searching for our midwestern brethren in the area around Chicago, as new information has come to light on their possible whereabouts. Who knows? It might take weeks to find them." Sarah looked at the file and her father in confusion. "Dad, not that I won't be happy to see Mark again, but why did Elder McNamara even make this request? They barely talk to outsiders, and here they are requesting assistance for one? I'm lost here."
"I actually think that I know why," Reilly said. "You guys were talking about him, but he wasn't there, so for all they knew you could've been making stuff up. Then he shows up to this Hidden Valley place, and now they have actual proof that you guys were telling the truth." "Yes, I asked that same question to Elder McNamara, and while I got a vague answer, I believe that that is what happened as well," Elder Lyons said. "Remember, Sarah, he has his holotags, and those require a very specific device to read what is on them."
"Yeah, that makes sense, I guess," Sarah said. Elder Lyons reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Elder McNamara also asked me to give you a message to deliver to Mr. Franklin. It is not part of the official file." Sarah put down the folder, took the paper from him, and opened it. Reilly looked over to read it as well. Both women were confused. "I was informed that Mark would understand what it means," Elder Lyons stated.
"Uh, sir, would my being here possibly have anything to do with my team assisting as well?" "Very perceptive, Ms. Finnegan. Yes, it does. While I understand that your team does contract work, I believe that, with your past association with him, you might be inclined to help him as well. If you cannot, I understand. You are not part of the Brotherhood and are under no obligation to follow my orders. Even if you decline, it will in no way affect your standing here in the Citadel. You have my word on that."
"Sir, we have no current contracts at this time. Mark saved my team, so if he needs our assistance, the Rangers will gladly offer our support." "Dad," Sarah said, "where exactly will we be staying? That town we left them in doesn't exactly look like it has room for the Pride and the Rangers."
"It appears that he has found a more upscale accommodation. His current coordinates and everything else you need to know are in the file. The vertibirds will leave at noon tomorrow. Ms. Finnegan, I would suggest that you and your team return to your compound to gather anything you will need for an extended trip, and we will pick you up from there." Reilly nodded in understanding.
"Very good. Sarah, do not inform your team of the true mission until you are in the air. Miss Finnegan, please do not inform your team about the mission until you have left the Citadel. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I am tired, and I believe that I will retire for the evening. Goodnight to both of you." Sarah and Reilly both wished him a good night, and he went into his room, closing the door behind him. Sarah grabbed the file off the table and stood up. "Come on, we'll go to my quarters and review this," Sarah said. Reilly got up.
"Looks like you got your wish, huh?" Reilly said as they both headed for the door. "Yeah, I guess so. It'll be nice to see Mark again, and you'll like his girlfriend. She really is a nice woman. It's easy to see why Mark fell for her." "Yeah, maybe she'll be up for a threesome, so you and Mark can finish what you started," Reilly quipped. Sarah blushed and smacked Reilly on the arm with the file. "Reilly!" "Oh, you are too easy," the Ranger captain said, grinning from ear-to-ear.
(1 hour ago, close to Camp McCarran)
Veronica and Boone had delivered the message and the holotape to the King. He would be at the meeting, and was very delighted to receive the Elvis songs. The duo were now close to Camp McCarran. They hadn't really spoken with each other since they left the 38, and there was an air of unease between them. Veronica tried to put the radio on, but Boone told her to shut it off, as it would make them an easier target.
So, the two of them walked in silence, keeping their eyes peeled for threats. As they were walking, Veronica realized where the uneasiness was coming from. This was the first time she had been alone with Boone since the incident with Christine the day they got back from the Sierra Madre. "Boone, I need to apologize for the other night, you know, with Christine and the guns and all that." Boone glanced over at his traveling companion for a moment, and then back out over the desert. "It's alright," he said.
"No, Boone, it isn't. I shouldn't have kept something like that from the rest of you. Our, no their, their reputation, it is what it is for a reason. Mark and Amata already had some knowledge of the Brotherhood, but I wanted the rest of you to get to know me for me, and not just immediately lump me in with the rest of the Brotherhood as a tech-hoarding fanatic. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Boone grunted. Veronica took that as a confirmation, so she kept talking.
"I am well aware of the history between the Brotherhood and the NCR. I know what the Brotherhood has done to the NCR, and vice-versa. Some of the things that my former group has done to you guys has disgusted me and-" "Apology accepted." That made Veronica stumble slightly. "Wait, what?" "I accept your apology, Veronica. I don't think it's necessary, but if you feel like you need to apologize, then I accept."
"It's in the past, no use dwelling on it. I'll admit, I was kinda pissed when you told the rest of us, but I think that was more of an ingrained reaction than anything else. You've never acted like I would expect someone from the Brotherhood to act. I may not be great with emotions, but I can tell that you genuinely feel ashamed to have been associated with them. I don't hold any ill will towards you, and I never have."
Veronica sighed in relief. "Thanks, Boone. That's a real load off my mind." "No problem. We've got more important issues to deal with, anyway," he said as they came upon the gate to Camp McCarran. Veronica nodded. "You're right. Let's do this."
The pair entered the compound and made their way to Colonel Hsu's office. After greetings were exchanged, Veronica handed Hsu the invitation. He stood behind his desk as he read it. While he read it, Veronica glanced around the room, seeing if she could spot Mark's bug. "House is going to actually let us into the 38?" Hsu questioned. "Yes," Veronica said, "and as the invitation clearly states, there will be three representatives from each side allowed in. Both the NCR and the Kings will surrender your weapons upon entry."
"And who will be mediating this? House?" Veronica shook her head. "Nope. That would be Mark, and maybe one other." Hsu put the paper down on his desk. "Three days is going to a bit of an issue. I haven't gotten the ok for this, and I'm not likely to get it in that timeframe." Veronica shrugged. "You have three days, Colonel. The King has already accepted, and Mark is a busy man, and that's when he can do it."
"He's also very big on helping others, so if this does happen, and Freeside can improve, maybe Mark can convince House to look more favorably on the NCR on any future trade deals or the like." Hsu looked contemplative. "What happens if we don't show up?" "Don't know. That's up to Mark. We were only asked to deliver the message. You'd have to ask him."
Hsu sighed. "Alright, I will try to get things to move faster, but I can't guarantee anything." "Do or do not, Colonel. There is no try." Veronica turned to leave when she remembered something. She turned back around, causing Boone, who was following her, to stop in his tracks. "Colonel, the word on the street is that you have a Legion Centurion in custody."
"How do you know that?" Hsu asked, his voice rising a bit. "A little birdie told me. It also told me that you aren't getting anything out of him. Perhaps we could be of some assistance." Hsu looked between Boone and Veronica. "Look, I don't know how you found out about that, exactly, but it is against regulation to have civilians interrogate prisoners of war."
"Ah, of course," Veronica said nonchalantly, examining her fingernails "if it's against regulation, it's against regulation. I also understand that it's against regulation for you to physically assault prisoners. But perhaps he could be interrogated by someone who isn't affiliated with the NCR, someone who probably doesn't know that that rule exists."
She waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, never mind. Wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position. Rules exist for a reason. I mean, it's not like a high-ranking Legion member like a Centurion could have valuable information that could possibly save innocent lives. Oh well. Come on, Boone. Let's head out."
She turned around and was nearly out the door when she heard Hsu call out, "Wait." Veronica turned back around. "Yes Colonel?" Veronica asked sweetly. "Alright, perhaps we could use you, but this is a one-time-only thing." "Understood, Colonel. Take us to the prisoner, please." Boone and Veronica followed Hsu to where the prisoner was being held. The trailed a few feet behind the Colonel.
"Why are we doing this, exactly?" Boone whispered. "I've always wanted to interrogate a prisoner," Veronica whispered back. "My, uh, previous organization never let me." "Are you actually going to beat him up?" Veronica shook her head and grinned. "Nope. I have a much better idea."
The room where they were holding the prisoner was up one level and on the opposite side of the building from Colonel Hsu's office. The room had a hole in the wall that was replaced with glass, and in the room was two chairs with a metallic table between them. In one of those chairs with his arms and legs bound was a man with shoulder-length black hair wearing armored Legion garb and a sneer.
There was a woman standing outside the room smoking a cigarette, one whom Boone recognized as Lieutenant Carrie Boyd. "Any luck, Lieutenant?" Hsu asked as he approached. She sighed, dropped the cigarette, and crushed it with her boot. "No. He does keep calling me a worm and saying that I'd look good in a slave collar, though, so there's that." She then noticed his two companions.
"I remember you from the other day," she said, looking at Boone, "but not you," indicating Veronica. "Yes, they are part of Mr. Franklin's group. I believe that they can help us with him," Hsu said, pointing at the prisoner. "Sir, you are aware that that is against regulation, right?" "I am well aware of the regulation, Lieutenant, but since we aren't getting anywhere as it is, there's no harm in letting someone else try," Hsu responded.
Boyd looked at all three of them, and then back into the room. "It's your call, Colonel, but there are no weapons allowed in there, so I'll need both of you to turn yours over before you go in there." "Actually, it'll just be me in there, so Boone, be a dear and hold these for me." She took off her power fist and gave that, a holstered pistol, and a switchblade to Boone to hold. "You sure, Veronica?" Boone asked.
"Yeah, I have a plan, and that beret that you refuse to take off is a dead giveaway that you're NCR, and that probably won't help. So, what's the guy's name?" "His name is Silus, and like most of the Legion, he's a misogynistic ass," the Lieutenant said. "Ok. So, is this one-way glass?" "Yes," Hsu said, "we can see you, but you won't be able to see us. We'll be out here if anything goes wrong." He paused for a moment. "I feel like I should ask: have you ever interrogated anyone before?" "Nope. This is my first time," Veronica replied before she opened the door and went in, closing it behind her.
Silus looked at Veronica condescendingly. "Who do we have here?" he asked as Veronica sat in the other chair and propped her feet up on the table. "Hmm. You wear no uniform, and you do not appear to be NCR. It doesn't matter. You will get nothing out of me, worm." Veronica simply stared at him and smiled. After about a couple of minutes of just staying like that, Silus asked, "Well? Aren't you going to say anything, profligate?"
"Oh, silly me," Veronica said, smiling brightly, "it's just- I'm in shock right now. You see, I've always wanted to ask someone from the Legion a few questions, but I've never gotten the opportunity before. This is like a dream come true for me. Like for instance, do you guys wear underwear under those skirts? I would hope that you do, because getting dirt and sand up in your privates can't feel all that good."
Back outside the room, Hsu and Boyd were looking on in confusion. "What-what the hell is she talking about?" Boyd asked. "I have no idea, Lieutenant. I was told that she was going to rough him up a bit." He looked at Boone. "Is she, uh, is she sane?" "Just watch," Boone replied, his eyes never leaving the inside of the room.
Back inside the room, Silus looked at her like she was crazy. "Ah, you know what, you don't have to answer that one. I do have another question, though. I've heard that the men mount each other as much as they mount the women. Is that true?" "Ha. I have 'mounted' many women. Release me and I'll show you how I do it," Silus said snidely. Veronica waved a hand dismissively, looking like she didn't have a care in the world. "Nah, I'll pass. I'm not really interested in the whole "bait-and-tackle" situation. I prefer the fairer sex."
"No, I was asking because I wanted to know if the Legion copied that, since, you know, they basically copied everything else." "Tell me what you speak of, woman," Silus said, starting to become agitated. "Oh, you mean you didn't know?" Veronica asked in a faux-astonished voice. "Your glorious leader probably told you that he was given an edict to create the Legion by the god Mars, when in reality, he pretty much copied the ancient Roman empire."
"Here's a bit of a fun fact for you, Silus: Caesar used to be a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse. That's where he learned all of that from." "You lie!" Silus exclaimed, trying and failing to break free of his restraints. "The mighty Caesar is a great man who would never associate with those pacifist fools!" "Eh, you can deny it all you want, Silus, but that doesn't make it any less true."
"He is a normal human being, who just happens to be a narcissist. If you don't know what that means, it's okay. It's an old-world psychological term. It basically means that he thinks that he's more important than he actually is, and if people don't tell him how great he is every five minutes he'll go into a tizzy."
Silus became enraged. "YOU WHORE! CAESAR HAS ALWAYS BEEN DESTINED FOR GREATNESS! HE WILL RULE THESE LANDS AND KILL EVERYONE THAT YOU HOLD DEAR! HE IS ALREADY DESTROYING THIS PLACE FROM WITHIN!" Outside the room, both Hsu's and Boyd's eyes widened at that revelation. Back in the room, Veronica smiled and stood up. "Thank for the info, Silus. It was nice chatting with you. We'll have to do this again sometime."
Veronica came out of the room to shocked looks on the two NCR soldier's faces, and Boone's normal stoic face. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you interrogate someone," Veronica said, looking very pleased with herself. "How-how did you do that? I've been trying for days to get something out of him, and you got him to talk in a matter of minutes," Boyd said, flabbergasted.
Veronica grinned. "Well, I decided to ask him questions that he probably wasn't expecting. It got him riled up a bit, probably got him questioning my sanity. Then it was all a matter of knowing which buttons to push. Since he's Legion, I figured that insulting Caesar would do the trick. Throw in the fact that I'm a woman insulting Caesar, it probably made it even worse, and then you get what just happened. It is a well-known fact that if you get someone angry enough, in the heat of the moment they'll say things that they normally wouldn't."
"And that was seriously your first time interrogating someone?" Hsu asked. "Yup. First official interrogation. I'm just really good at annoying and confusing people. What can I say? It's a gift. I hope that everyone caught the meaning of what he said?" Veronica asked. "Yes, we got it. There's a Legion spy here on base," Boyd replied. "Now that I think about it," Hsu said, staring at the prisoner, "this would explain why the Legion has been able to ambush our troops lately. Someone must be feeding them our movements."
"Well, they would have to do it from inside the base. Where is your communications center?" Veronica asked. "It's in the old air traffic control tower, but it is restricted, and you need a keycard to get in," Hsu replied. "How many people have a keycard?" Boone asked. "Myself, Lieutenant Boyd here, and a few others. That either means one of the keycards was stolen and hasn't been reported as such, or one of my top officers is a spy. I'm not sure which is worse," Hsu said.
"Would you mind if we borrowed a keycard, you know, poke around in the tower a bit? Might give us a lead," Veronica said. Hsu was silent for a couple of moments as he pondered the request. "Well, you got the information out of him, I suppose you should follow up on it. However, while Mr. Boone here would not stick out, a civilian going into a restricted area might look suspicious, so we're going to need to get you a uniform. I believe we have some spares."
(Half-hour later)
"Yep, never thought I'd ever be wearing one of these," Veronica said as she and Boone made their way to the control tower. She, along with Boone, who had decided to do the same, were dressed in NCR armor, including goggles and a face wrap to further conceal their identities. She had to take off her power fist, as it was not standard issue. She hid her pip-boy under the uniform. Boone even took off his beret and exchanged it for a normal trooper hat.
They had then been given Lieutenant Boyd's keycard, who had also told them that there had been reports of lights on in the tower in the middle of the night, although she seemed to think that it was just lovers looking for some privacy. Veronica had called Mark and let him and Amata know that they would be at McCarran for a while.
"Well, it does seem to suit you, Private Sanchez," Boone said, referencing Veronica's temporary cover ID, Private Maria Sanchez. "Oh, shut it, Sergeant Jones (Boone's cover was Sergeant Michael Jones). Why the hell do you get to outrank me, anyway?" "Sergeant was the last post I held before I was discharged, and you are new to the NCR military, so it makes perfect sense to me, and if you take that tone with me again, I'll have you run laps, Private."
"Yeah, I'd like to see you try, Sergeant. See what happens then," she said as they came upon the tower. She swiped the keycard and opened the door. There was a metal staircase that curved upwards to a platform. There was a small alcove underneath the platform right before the staircase. They went up to the platform and looked around. There were large bay windows all around the octagonal room. Facing the windows to the right of the tarmac was a computer console with a terminal with a microphone attached to it.
Veronica lowered her face wrap, went over to the terminal, and began typing. After about ten seconds, she declared her success. "Ha! I'm in!" "That fast?" Boone asked. She scoffed. "Please. No offense, but this security system is a joke. I could've hacked this when I was eleven. Now let's see what's on here."
She continued typing. "Let's see…we've got logins…hmm, that's odd." "What's up?" Boone asked. "Well, for the past few weeks, someone's been accessing this place at one in the morning. They erased their login information but couldn't erase the fact that the login occurred. Let me see if I can find the frequency they were on…come on…here we go!" She opened the frequency, but they couldn't hear anything.
"Ok, nothing there. What do you think?" she asked Boone. "I think this is our guy. Assuming the pattern holds, they'll be back again tonight. Let's go get something to eat, take a rest, and then come back out around 11 and stake this place out." "Ooh, a stakeout. Sounds like fun. You ever been on one?" "Once or twice. You?" "Pfft, the only thing the Brotherhood had me stake out was the 188. Before you guys came along, the only exciting thing that ever happened there was when a brahmin got spooked and ran over the weapons dealer under the overpass. It was funny for a few minutes, but it passed quickly. Now come on, I'm hungry."
(1 AM)
The two of them were behind a couple of shipping crates that were close to the terminal building. They were arranged in a V-shape with a small gap at the point which gave them a good view of the tower. Veronica was leaning back against the crate, dozing off a bit when Boone shook her shoulder. "What?! What's going on?! I'm awake!" Veronica said. "Shh! Boone said, pointing to the small gap.
Veronica took a look. There was a lone figure making going into the tower. "I think that's our guy," Boone said quietly. Veronica checked her pip-boy. The time matched. "Come on," Boone sad as they got out from behind the crates. "Stay low and stick to the shadows. We don't want to tip him off." Veronica nodded, and they began their approach.
They made their way to the tower, where Veronica slid the keycard, and opened the door quietly. They slid in, shut the door, and hid in the alcove. They heard a voice coming from the platform.
"Lupa, this is Frumentarius Picus, over," the voice said. Upon hearing this, Boone scowled and made to go up the stairs, but Veronica grabbed his shoulder, and he looked back at her. She shook her head, pointed to one of her ears, and then pointed up. Boone was not happy, but he stayed put for the moment.
"Go ahead, Picus," a voice over the radio said. "Afternoon patrols enter Fiend territory at 1300. Have them mine that stretch," Picus said. "Ten-four, Picus. The Fiends will be alerted," the man called Lupa said. "What is the status of your primary position, Picus?" "Bomb is set. Detonation occurs as the train leaves the station. Over." "How long?" Lupa asked. "Four minutes," Picus said.
Veronica, suddenly looking panicked, pointed at Boone and then pointed up, and then pointed at herself and then back out the door. Boone nodded, and then Veronica opened and dashed out the door. As she got close to the terminal, she heard the breaking of glass from the direction of the tower. She hoped that Boone was okay.
She went in the terminal, which was mostly empty, when she remembered that she didn't know where the entrance to the monorail was. Fortunately, there was a guard that was near the sandbag wall. "Hey you!" Veronica called out. The guard turned around. "Yeah?" "Where's the monorail entrance?" He looked confused. "Shouldn't you already know?" he asked.
"I'm new, asshole! Tell me where it is, or I'll shove that gun up your rear!" Veronica practically yelled. The man, not wanting to know if she would go through with that threat, told her. "Ok, ok, Jesus! It's up the stairs to the right, across from a couple vending machines." Veronica took off, running up the escalator, unsure of how much time had eclipsed. She ran through the door the man had mentioned, and out onto the platform, where the monorail was waiting to depart.
The train had three cars, was white, and a few of the window panes were broken. Veronica didn't see a conductor, so she reasoned that the train departed automatically at certain times. She jumped into the middle car. "Everyone get the hell off! There's a bomb on board!" That got the attention of everyone, who quickly got off and headed for the terminal building.
Making sure all three cars were clear, she started to talk to herself. "If I was a bomb, where would I be?" She looked around the car, when she saw the vents. "Yes! The vents! No one would notice them there!" She checked the last car but came up empty. In the middle car, the first vent was a dud, but in the second one she saw a blinking light. She ran over to it and ripped off the cover.
The bomb looked like a block of C-4 with four different-colored wires and timer on it. The timer read twenty seconds. She pulled out her switchblade and went to cut a wire, when she realized that she couldn't remember which wire to cut. "Really wishing that I paid closer attention in Taggart's class right now," she muttered, sweating profusely.
One of the wires was green, one was blue, one was red, and the last was yellow. "Come on, come on, what did Taggart say?" The timer was at seven. "What was it? Red you're dead, blue you're screwed, um, um, fuck! I don't remember the rest!" The timer was at three. "Fuck it, I'll make up my own! Yellow, you're mellow!"
She cut the wire, and thankfully, the timer stopped at one. She let out a sigh of relief. She then saw the doors begin to close, so she got up quickly and jumped out just as the doors shut and the train took off. She barrel-rolled onto the concrete platform, ending up lying on her back. She groaned. She didn't hear any explosions, so it looked like there was only the one bomb. "Well, that was way too close for comfort," she said as she looked up at the stars.
She stayed like that for a few moments before she sat up quickly. "Fuck! Boone!" She got up and started running back towards the tower, barreling through the troopers that had been on the train. She ran back out onto the tarmac, seeing the light of the tower on in the distance. When she got closer, she saw a broken window and a body lying spread-eagle on the ground, partly in the shadows. "Shit, shit, shit," she said as she got down to her knees near the body, ignoring the broken glass on the ground.
She pulled the rest of the body out of the shadows, and then realized that it wasn't Boone. The man's face was bloodied and bruised, and there was a lot of blood underneath him. She checked for a pulse, not finding any. "Did you get the bomb?" Veronica quickly turned around, drawing her pistol in the process.
She saw Boone sitting up against the building. He also had some blood and bruises on his face, and some blood on his armor as well. She got up and went over to him, turning on her pip-boy light to get a better look at him. "Are you okay, Boone? Do you need medical attention?" she asked worriedly. He waved her off. "I'm fine. Dealt with worse. I assume you got the bomb?"
She sat down next to him. "Yeah, I got it. Who's he, and what happened?" "Dog tags say he's Captain Ronald Curtis. As for what happened, well, we traded a few blows, a few insults, and then I speared him through a window." Veronica looked up at the broken window, and then back at Boone in astonishment. "What in the hell possessed you to do that?! That's like a twenty-foot drop! How are you not injured worse?"
"It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. He took the brunt of it, smashed his head on the pavement. The important thing is that we found the spy, and he is no longer an issue." Veronica smacked him on the arm. Boone winced. "That was for scaring the crap outta me! Glad you're okay, though." Boone chuckled. "Come on, let's go find the Colonel and tell him what happened," he said.
They both got up, and when they started walking, Veronica noticed Boone walking with a bit of a limp. "You sure you're okay?" she asked. "Twisted my ankle. Nothing serious. I'll be fine." She nodded, and the two of them went back into the terminal, which was now a hive of activity. They went into the middle of the room when they saw Colonel Hsu heading towards them. "Sanchez! Jones! With me, now!" he ordered.
They followed Colonel Hsu into his office and closed the door behind him. Hsu sat behind his desk. He looked like he had just woken up, as he was bleary-eyed and was only wearing khaki pants and a khaki button-up shirt. Boone and Veronica sat down as well. "Ok, I'm hearing things about bombs and something going on near the tower, and I assume that it had to do with you two, so start talking."
Veronica and Boone recounted their experiences from the night. At the end of it, Hsu smiled grimly and chuckled. "You want to know what's ironic about this whole situation? Curtis, or Picus, I guess, joined up long before our campaign against the Legion began. He was also the one who I originally assigned to find out why our troops kept getting ambushed. Now I know why he was never able to find anything." He rubbed his face.
"It would appear that the NCR owes another debt to your team. Excuse me for one moment." He looked through the bottom drawer of his desk and rummaged around for a few moments. He then slid a manila file folder across the desk to Veronica. "In there are NCR VIP passes for you and your group. They'll allow you to use the monorail to get here and back. With everything that's going on, this'll be faster than you having to walk all the way here."
"Thank you, Colonel. I'm sure Mark will appreciate these," Veronica said, picking up the folder. Hsu nodded. "You and your group are also permitted to take shelter here if you need to. Once I heard that there was the possibility of a bomb threat, I ordered the monorail to be shut down so it can be checked. Hopefully it will be done by morning. Unless you plan on walking back tonight, I can set you both up with private quarters for the night." Veronica looked over at Boone, who shrugged. "I think we'll take you up on that offer, Colonel," she said. "Very good," Hsu replied. "Now, if you wouldn't mind returning the keycard, I will escort you to your quarters and will have Lieutenant Boyd bring you your belongings."
(Next morning, Lucky 38)
It was 9 AM, and Mark, Amata and Cass were at the kitchen table talking, just having finished breakfast. About an hour earlier, after having cleared Cass, Arcade had gone down to the lab. When he had awoken earlier, he checked and realized that Veronica and likely Boone were still at McCarran. Mark sent her a message to make sure that they were okay. She assured them that they were, and they would explain everything when they got back.
After finishing her breakfast, Abby went off somewhere with ED-E, so that left the three adults at the table. "Hey, Captain, ya got anymore a that whiskey up on that ship?" Cass asked. "I'll assume that you liked it then?" Mark asked. "Oh, yeah that was some good whiskey. Better than anything I've had before. Need ta thank that Elliott guy fer that."
"Cass, what do you think of Elliott?" Amata asked, continuing her quest to get Cass and Elliott together. "He's a nice guy, I suppose. Not too bad lookin'. Why ya askin'?" "Just wondering," she said, sending a sly smile to Mark. Mark smiled and shook his head.
It was then that Abby came into the room with ED-E in tow, holding a plasma pistol. "Abby," Mark said sternly, getting up and walking over to her, "you know that you're not supposed to handle a gun other than your BB gun unless one of us is with you." He took it from her. "I know, I'm sorry daddy, but I was in Mr. Arcade's room-" "And you're also not supposed to go into other people's rooms without their permission," Mark added.
"Yeah, he's right, Abby," Amata said from her seat. "Later, you are going to apologize to Mr. Arcade, and as punishment, you are going to go to your room and sit in the corner for an hour, and ED-E stays out here. Is that understood?" "Yes, mommy," Abby said contritely. "Daddy, could you just explain what that weird symbol on the gun is before I go?" "What symbol?" Mark asked as he examined the gun.
"It has Mr. Arcade's name on it, but then there's this symbol, it's an uppercase "E" surrounded by stars." Amata's eyes widened, and she quickly looked at Mark, who was staring at the gun, a look of barely constrained fury on his face, his right eye twitching. Amata shot up out of her seat and went over to Mark, looking where he was looking. It was small, but it was there. Imprinted on the side of the grip, under the name "GANNON," was the symbol Abby described. An uppercase "E" surrounded by twelve stars. The symbol of the Enclave.
"Oh no," Amata said quietly.
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Next chapter we will get Mark's reaction to the revelation at the end there. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.