TLW entered the strategy briefing late that night. The scaled model of Paradise Falls was displayed on a table in the centre of the Citadel's operations room. Seated around the table were Reilly, Harkness, Elder Lyons, Farrow, and Baxter. The plan was set: a precision strike on Paradise Falls—an operation unlike anything the armed forces had attempted before.
The combined forces would launch a coordinated assault. The Army and Steels would push forward, establishing a direct front against the Paradise Falls slavers, drawing their attention and resources. Meanwhile, the Diablo Reapers would operate in the shadows, slipping behind enemy lines to carry out a flanking maneuver and strike at the heart of the slaver stronghold. It would be a two-pronged assault, with the Reapers cutting off any escape or reinforcements while the bulk of the army kept the slavers engaged.
This would be the most synchronized operation the Capital Wasteland had ever seen. Every step would need to be executed with military precision, from the initial push to the final extraction.
Before the operation could kick off, there was one critical task that had to be completed: the placement of a signal jammer at the top of the towering statue at the far end of Paradise Falls. This was a non-negotiable step—without it, the slavers could remotely activate the slave collars, turning the entire operation into a disaster. TLW volunteered for the assignment. While Harkness and his Reapers were more than capable of executing the mission, TLW knew this was his responsibility. He'd been inside Paradise Falls before. His experience and expertise were unparalleled, and this task fell squarely on his shoulders.
The plan was straightforward but high-risk. TLW would be dropped several kilometres out, far enough to stay out of sight but close enough to reach the statue undetected. From there, he would infiltrate the perimeter, scale the eastern wall, and plant the jammer at the top of the statue. Once it was in place, he would activate the device and wait for the Reapers to initiate their move. As soon as the jammer was live, the Reapers would infiltrate the eastern side, setting up a secure perimeter. At the same time, the main assault force—the regular army and the Steel soldiers—would position themselves at the northern gate, preparing to draw the defenders' attention and expose them to the Reapers' strike from the east.
Reilly had mobilized a heavy force for the assault: 500 men, along with 50 Steel soldiers, would be deployed to the northern gate. The force would be transported in by 20 Vertibirds, which would land approximately 3 kilometres from the entrance. Once they had deployed, the Vertibirds would provide overwatch and support—ready to escalate the operation if things went sideways. In the worst-case scenario, they would be ordered to sack Paradise Falls and burn it to the ground.
Harkness would take command of four 5-man teams from the Diablo Reapers. The crossbows that had been part of their signature gear would be swapped out for silenced machine guns, an upgrade to improve combat effectiveness at close range. While the Kevlar plating added some bulk to their armor, it also provided a critical layer of protection, making the risks of the mission more manageable.
As the briefing wrapped up, Elder Lyons stood, giving a firm nod. "Get some rest. Tomorrow night, we move."
TLW didn't need to be told twice. The next 24 hours would be critical. The clock was ticking, and the fate of the operation depended on flawless execution. The team knew their roles. Now, it was just a matter of doing it.
The sun was dipping below the horizon as TLW arrived at the assembly point outside the Citadel. The open area was a hive of activity, a sea of soldiers moving in disciplined chaos, preparing for the operation. Five Vertibirds were lined up at the far end of the open ground, their engines humming in readiness. TLW could feel the tension in the air—the quiet before the storm. The soldiers, their faces etched with anxiety, were checking their gear, their eyes scanning the horizon. Some ran their hands over the well-worn AK-47s, the backbone of the army. The rifles were scavenged, reliable, and easy to maintain, but they lacked the refinement of true military gear. The soldiers wore mismatched uniforms—green overalls and beige-green Talon combat fatigues, a patchwork look that didn't scream "professional army," but it was a start. They had helmets, but each one was different, some battered, others pristine, a reflection of the resourcefulness and desperation of their forces.
"If you haven't signed up for insurance, do it now," one of the team leaders barked, his voice cutting through the noise. "Head to Scribe Rivers' office in the Citadel and get your name on the list. Don't let your family miss the payout if something happens to you."
Another sergeant shouted to his squad, "Check your ammo! You should each have at least two spare mags, not counting the one in your weapon." Soldiers were already circulating, distributing extra magazines and ammo bags. The clink of metal and the rustle of gear filled the air.
At the far end, the Steels stood apart from the rest. Unlike the anxious soldiers, they were calm, their faces lit with quiet confidence. Some were laughing, others casually smoking cigarettes, their helmets tucked under their arms. The difference between the nervous recruits and the seasoned veterans was palpable. As TLW walked through the ranks, a path naturally cleared before him. The murmurs of respect followed him, a silent acknowledgment of his role in what was about to unfold.
Finally, at the last Vertibird, TLW spotted Harkness and the Diablo Reapers. Twenty men, all dressed in black combat armor, radiating deadly intent. The Reapers were the elite of the elite—tough, efficient, and ready for anything. Some of them wore black bandanas with skull motifs, a symbol of their grim reputation. They stood in a tight formation, weapons at the ready, exuding the kind of readiness that only comes from countless hours of training and combat experience.
"Ready for the storm?" Harkness asked, his voice low and steady.
"I am the storm," TLW replied, his tone unwavering as he clicked a fresh magazine into his rifle. The weight of the moment settled over him. This was it. The plan had been set, the forces mobilized. There was no turning back now.
The time for talk was over. The storm was coming, and they were the eye of it.
The Vertibird touched down 40 minutes later, the air thick with the promise of what was to come. TLW could feel the tension in his chest as he disembarked, watching the aircraft disappear into the night sky. The Reapers were being dropped off in a different location, closer to the slave compound. TLW had a single task: get to the Paradise Falls, disable the communications, and wait for the operation to unfold.
In the distance, he saw a small flicker of light—Paradise Falls. It was faint, barely visible through the night, but it was enough to mark his destination. The signal blocker, no bigger than half a backpack, was the key to ensuring that the slavers couldn't remotely activate the collars on their captives. It was bulky enough to force him to travel light, and every step counted.
It took him just over an hour to reach the perimeter of the walls. The height had been increased since his last visit, and he could see storm lights illuminating the area. A patrol circled the exterior, keeping the area under tight surveillance. TLW kept his back to the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment. As the patrol moved on, he eyed the wall. The climb took less than 10 minutes, his hands finding purchase on the rough stone. Once on top, he paused, ensuring there were no patrols in sight, before slipping down the other side into the darkness.
The moment he landed, he crouched low, listening. The low hum of voices from a nearby bar grew louder as he crept forward. He peeked around the corner and saw at least fifty heavily armed slavers inside, laughing, shouting, and drinking. They were too many, far more than Third Link had anticipated. But there was no time to dwell on that. He had a job to do.
Moving with the quiet precision that came from years of practice, TLW worked his way around the compound, using the cover of darkness and the high walls to stay unseen. It didn't take long before he reached the base of the Ice Cream Boy statue—a bizarre, imposing figure at the heart of the compound. The surface was smooth, making the climb more difficult, but the shadows worked in his favour, concealing his movements.
It took longer than he'd hoped, but after several agonizing minutes, he reached the shoulders of the statue. There, in the hollow between its arms, was the perfect spot. He activated the signal blocker and secured it to the statue. This was the only place high enough to ensure that the slavers wouldn't be able to remotely control the slave collars once the attack began. His fingers fumbled slightly as he fixed it into place, but he managed to steady himself and finish the task.
With the signal blocker secured, he began his descent. The climb down was faster, but every moment felt stretched as he waited for the rest of the operation to unfold.
It was an hour before the first signs of action. The peaceful sounds from the bar were shattered by shouts, followed by the scrambling of slavers as they rushed to arms. TLW could hear the muffled sound of chairs toppling over and the rush of footsteps as the slavers moved to defend their position. Gunfire erupted from the northern end, the crack of shots echoing across the compound before suddenly going quiet. The army had arrived.
The show was about to begin.
At the entrance to Paradise Falls, chaos erupted. The sentries, already on high alert, scrambled to close the gates as they saw the Vertibirds descending from the sky. Their desperate attempts to fire at the aircraft were futile, as they were mowed down by the Vertibird's Gatling guns, their bullets ripping through the air in an unrelenting hail of death. As the gates slammed shut behind them, they had only moments to recover before the full force of the attack hit.
The first Steel and standard infantry units hit the ground and began fortifying the area, sandbags and makeshift barricades popping up around them as they dug in. 500 meters away, a Vertibird set up as a mobile command post for Reilly and Farrow, the two leaders issuing orders over both runners and radio. A second Vertibird, its floodlights cutting through the dark, circled above the battlefield, broadcasting a warning over its loudspeaker.
"Surrender now! Come out with your hands up and you will not be harmed!"
The response was swift and violent. A missile launched from the Paradise Falls' defenses, streaking through the sky with deadly precision. The pilot of the Vertibird reacted just in time, releasing flares that lured the missile off course, sending it harmlessly into the night.
"They have anti-air missiles! Withdraw!" Farrow shouted into the comms system, and the Vertibird peeled away from the area.
"Seems like we're without air support for this one," Farrow muttered as he took off his headset, looking to Reilly for direction.
"Then let's hope the Reapers can fix this, or else we're in for some heavy casualties," Reilly replied grimly, his eyes scanning the horizon as he plotted their next move.
Meanwhile, inside Paradise Falls, TLW slipped back to the bar arena, now eerily quiet. The place that had once been the center of the slaver's power was now a war zone. Emerging from the shadows, TLW moved swiftly toward the area where the slaves were being held. The small door to the holding area creaked open, revealing five dead slavers lying in a pool of blood. The cages where the slaves had once been confined were now filled with people, their faces marked with fear and confusion as they tried to make sense of the chaos unfolding around them.
At the far end of the room, Harkness and five of his Reapers were inspecting the bodies, their faces grim.
"You took your time," Harkness remarked, his eyes flicking to TLW as he surveyed the scene.
TLW didn't respond, his focus on the mission at hand. "Let's end this. I'm going to Eulogy's office," he said, his voice low but filled with resolve.
Harkness gave a quick nod, then barked orders to two of his men. "You two, stay here and cover this area. The rest of us are going to the office."
The group moved swiftly, making their way toward the office with caution. However, they weren't fast enough. As they neared the door, the sudden sound of yelling cut through the air.
"What the fuck?!" a voice screamed from the other side of the courtyard.
Harkness reacted immediately, drawing his weapon and firing in one smooth motion. The slaver dropped, but the noise had already alerted others. Three more slavers appeared, guns drawn, charging at the group. Bullets flew through the air—two slavers fell, but the third dove behind cover, keeping his position.
"They'll be coming in force. We hold them off! Get rid of Eulogy now!" Harkness shouted, his voice sharp as he ordered the Reapers into position.
TLW, not missing a beat, rushed for the door to Eulogy's office, flinging it open. His eyes scanned the room in an instant, but what he saw made his heart skip a beat—Eulogy's signature heart-shaped bed was empty. The office was deserted.
A voice screeched from across the room, furious and shrill.
"Scrub! I'm going to kill you!"
Forty, Eulogy's second-in-command, was standing in the doorway, a machine gun gripped in his hands, ready to unload on TLW.
Instinctively, TLW dove behind a bench as bullets erupted from Forty's gun, shredding the wood into splinters. TLW's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to steady his breathing, preparing for the fight.
"You piece of shit! I should've put a collar on you the first time!" Forty screamed, his rage palpable as he emptied his clip into the direction of TLW. The sharp crack of gunfire echoed off the walls, but TLW's instincts kicked in. The moment the gun clicked empty, he surged forward, his movements sharp and controlled. Two shots rang out from his pistol, the first one hitting Forty in the shoulder, the second crashing into his chest.
Forty dropped like a sack of bricks, crumpling to the ground with a sickening thud. Blood pooled around him, soaking the floor beneath him as he struggled to breathe. TLW walked toward him with deliberate steps, his pistol still gripped tight in his hand, eyes focused on the man who had just moments ago been trying to end his life.
"I'll let you live if you tell me where Eulogy is," TLW said, his voice cold, measured, but laced with a dangerous edge.
Forty let out a raspy laugh, though it was strained by the blood bubbling in his throat. "Eulogy... he hasn't been the boss for quite a while… heh... you're really misinformed…"
The words didn't fully register in TLW's mind at first. He was too focused on getting the information he needed. He crouched down, trying to get closer. "What do you mean he—"
Before he could finish, a faint, sinister sound reached his ears: the unmistakable click of a grenade pin being released. His eyes widened, and instinct kicked in.
"Fuck you..." Forty managed to grin weakly, his bloodstained fingers loosening the grenade he had clutched in his hand. He let it fall to the ground with a soft clink, the smile still twisted on his face as he whispered, "Heh, I'll take you with me."
Time seemed to slow for a heartbeat. TLW reacted faster than he could think. He leapt back, scrambling for cover, dragging the heart-shaped mattress off the bed and behind a nearby bench. His heart was pounding in his chest as he braced for impact.
The explosion ripped through the room with a deafening roar, the shockwave hitting him hard, throwing him backward. The force of the blast sent the furniture flying, the world spinning in a violent blur. The shrapnel rained down, but the bench and the mattress shielded him from the worst of it. TLW gritted his teeth against the pain as he stayed pressed against the ground, adrenaline surging through him.
As the deafening ringing in his ears began to fade, TLW pulled himself up. The office was a wreck: debris scattered across the floor, glass windows shattered, and the remains of Forty lay in pieces. The air was thick with smoke and dust, but TLW didn't have time to linger. He pushed himself up, scanning the room.
The gunfight outside still raged on, but he could hear something else now. A second explosion—this one even more powerful, the sound of it reverberating through the walls of the building. The world outside Paradise Falls was on fire, and the operation had officially gone from bad to worse.
"Fire!" Farrow shouted far away from where TLW was, his voice cutting through the chaos. At his command, a missile launched from a Vertibird hovering at a safe distance. Ten seconds felt like an eternity as it streaked through the air, then slammed into the heavy gates of Paradise Falls with a deafening roar. The explosion sent shockwaves rippling through the area, disintegrating the gates and obliterating everything in its path. Several slavers were torn apart in the blast, their bodies sent flying, while others were left reeling, clutching their ears in disarray. The Steels seized the opportunity, storming through the wreckage of the gates with ruthless precision. They cut down the slavers guarding it, but the initial success was short-lived. As the remaining slavers regrouped, they barricaded themselves at the second gate, halting the Steels' advance. A Steel took a direct hit from a laser weapon, and his comrades swiftly dragged him back to safety.
TLW crouched low, his eyes scanning the battlefield. The Reapers had managed to push the slavers back from the courtyard outside Eulogy Jones' compound, but it wasn't over yet.
"Report," TLW called over to Harkness, who had taken a defensive position along the perimeter fence, his rifle at the ready.
"We've taken out seven more," Harkness responded, his voice calm but steady. "They're trapped between us and the Steels. It's only a matter of time before they fold."
"No unnecessary risk," TLW ordered, his tone sharp. "Casualties?"
"Only one. Shot through the arm, but he'll make it."
TLW nodded, relieved. The Reapers were a significant investment, both in terms of manpower and resources. Losing one would be a costly blow. Another explosion shook the ground beneath them. TLW's gaze snapped to the roof of the compound where he spotted a man firing a grenade launcher at the gates. The slavers had heavy artillery, and it was wreaking havoc on the advancing Steels.
"Let's clear the roof!" TLW barked, his mind already calculating the next move.
Harkness was already on his feet, barking orders to the rest of the Reapers to hold their position. The door to the inner rooms, where Eulogy Jones' office and the doctor's quarters were located, was barricaded, as expected. But the immediate threat was above them. TLW and Harkness needed to neutralize the artillery position before it could decimate their forces.
Back at the command centre, Reilly was barking orders into the radio, her voice laced with urgency.
"Hold the line!" she shouted to the Paladin commanding the assault. "We cannot withdraw now!"
"Dammit!" came the reply over the radio. "They've got heavy artillery on the roof! We're pinned down!"
"No one told us they had such heavy weapons!" Farrow muttered, his frustration evident as he studied the map, trying to anticipate the next move.
Reilly's eyes flicked to the screen, then back to Farrow. "If we withdraw the Steels, they'll just regroup and fortify. We can't let them do that. We either push with regular soldiers and take heavy losses, or we hold and keep them from focusing their fire on the Ghosts and the slaves."
TLW knew time was running out. He exchanged a quick glance with Harkness before the latter asked with a grin, "Have you gained weight?"
TLW didn't have time for banter. With a grunt, he helped Harkness up onto the roof. The climb was difficult, but they had no choice. The slaver gunners above were wreaking havoc, and the Steels' advance had stalled. If they didn't clear the rooftop, they'd lose the momentum of the attack. Harkness didn't need any assistance; with his usual blend of strength and agility, he hoisted himself up with one hand, showing just how ready he was for the next fight.
"Let's make this quick," TLW muttered as he pulled himself up after night air crackled with the sounds of gunfire and explosions. TLW and Harkness crouched low, scanning the distance. About 150 meters ahead, a group of slavers had fortified themselves behind a scrap metal barricade, their weapons trained on the advancing Steels below. Five of them were launching grenades and rockets, raining down hell on the ground forces. They hadn't noticed TLW and Harkness yet, but it was only a matter of time.
"Any ideas?" TLW asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Harkness didn't waste a second. "Cover me!" he snapped, already moving.
Without waiting for TLW's confirmation, Harkness broke into a full sprint, charging toward the nest of slavers. The moment he covered 100 meters, the slavers saw him and immediately reacted. TLW opened fire, his shots missing but forcing the slavers to dive for cover. The seconds he bought were critical.
Harkness didn't slow down. At 50 meters, he pulled the pin on a grenade and hurled it with deadly accuracy. The arc was perfect; it flew over the barricade and landed squarely in the middle of the nest. TLW didn't hesitate—he threw himself to the ground as the grenade exploded with a deafening roar. The force of the blast ripped the barricade apart, sending shrapnel and debris flying. The slavers inside had no chance.
The battlefield fell into an eerie silence for a moment, the smoke from the explosion lingering in the air. Both the Steels and the remaining slavers took a breath, realizing the tide had shifted. Without artillery support, the slavers were now trapped between the advancing Steels at the gate and the Reapers cutting off any retreat into the compound.
The Steels stormed through the gates, pushing the slavers back with brutal efficiency, while the Reapers held their ground, ensuring there was no escape. The sound of gunfire started again, but this time it was the final push. Within ten minutes, the remaining 12 slavers threw down their weapons in surrender. The battle for Paradise Falls was over.
And with that, the silence of victory fell over the ruined compound.