A/N: OOOOOOOOOOPS. Sorry about the late post but I had family in town and, honestly, couldn't find the time. But we're here now and not back on hiatus! I can't tell you all how much fun it's been writing this part of the story. So much has been building to it that I can't tell you about because, well, that's what the story is for. Aaaaaaaaanyway, please leave a review if you're so inclined, the feedback is always appreciated and, as always, enjoy!

Chapter 81: Caged

My head felt like it had been hit with a sledgehammer. Even though I hadn't opened my eyes yet, I could feel the world spinning around me.

The last thing I want to do is puke in my helmet. Was there something in the water? If it had been spiked, whatever they put in it would have been strong enough to kill someone if it hit me this hard.

What the hell…

I sat there, leaning against the wall, waiting for the ground to stop spinning me around.

Why can't I hear anything?

It was dead silent. Even at night, I could hear some activity. Hell, if it was this quiet, I would be able to hear everyone in the cafeteria breathing.

But there was nothing.

Did something happen? Poison?

If the water had been poisoned and hit me this hard then the others were probably…

My eyes snapped open-

And my world flipped upside down again. It took every ounce of willpower I had to keep the bile down. But I did.

After a few seconds, everything stopped spinning enough for me to figure out just what the hell I was looking at-

… What the fuck am I looking at?

It- it wasn't the cell. I wasn't sitting in the far corner, tucked away from everyone behind the alcove we'd been in earlier.

The room around me was- I was sitting in a classroom.

There were desks set against the wall to my right, one was destroyed- crushed, it looked like. There was a chair in the middle of the room with something on it.

A door directly across from me had its window covered by something black. I couldn't see what was past that.

When I tried to stand, my legs wouldn't respond. Same with my arms. Instead of moving like I commanded, they twitched and trembled.

What's going on? Was I drugged somehow? Knocked out and taken to… a school? Is there a school on base? Why would they do that? How would they do that?

I was still able to move my neck and head so I turned, searching for a window.

After a moment's search, I found one on the wall to my left-

But, like the door, no light was coming through. Beyond the glass was nothing but blackness. So had that been covered too?

Whatever's going on can't be good. I need to get a move on.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and focused. I had to relax. Getting excited won't do me any good.

Another deep breath.

Relax.

Deep breath.

The world began slowing. My vertigo receded.

Deep breath.

My body started getting some feeling back. At first, it was an odd, tired, tingling sensation, as if I'd exerted my body to the point of exhaustion. Then came the pins and needles.

I focused on moving my right hand.

It responded.

Then I lifted my arm.

Now same with the left.

Deep breath.

That continued for another 30 seconds, my body slowly began to respond to my commands again.

Eventually, I was able to push myself into an unsteady stand. I had to use the wall for balance, but it was better than I'd been a minute before.

Another quick look around the room didn't reveal anything new. Just a classroom with all the desks to one side, bare walls aside from a long-decrepit whiteboard, and a chair in the middle.

What was on it? A book?

Deep breath.

Once I was fairly certain I wasn't going to collapse the moment I moved away from the wall, I took a step forward. It took all of my concentration to place my foot ahead of me and maintain my balance. The next step was just as hard. Same with the third.

Another deep breath.

Even so, I was getting closer.

The fourth step-

Why am I not making any noise?

I stopped before I could take the fifth. That was a good question, what wasn't I making any noise?

The sound-dampening in my boots is good but I'm almost half a ton in my armor and this is tile floor. I don't have the coordination to walk quietly right now so why can I not hear my footsteps?

My audio might be out, or whatever the hell's going on with me is messing with my hearing too. One problem at a time.

Right.

The chair was only one or two more strides away.

After the sixth, I almost lost my balance. It took 10 or 15 seconds to regain it. Falling wouldn't be the end of the world, but it would be a pain in the ass to get up again.

A few steps later, I reached the chair. Sure enough, it was a book.

Or… a journal.

It was hard-backed with a blank face. The surface was clean and unmarred. It didn't match the other books I've seen around the Commonwealth. No tattered pages, no tearing, no frayed edges.

What's more, it didn't match the state of the room around it. Yes, the desks were all neatly arranged against the wall but the exposed steel still had surface rust. The wooden surfaces had all the scarring the book's surface was missing.

This is… strange. Did someone put this here?

Before reaching for the book, I checked it and the chair for anything suspect. If this was the Raiders' doing, I wouldn't put it past them to wire a book for sound.

Nothing.

Careful to not upset my equilibrium again, I lifted the book from its chair.

Still no traps.

Why would the Raiders put me in here alone with a book? Why were the windows covered? Where was-

… Wait. Covered windows and doors?

I looked up at the ceiling. There were several light fixtures there but none of them were on.

Where the hell is the light coming from?

My gaze drifted back to the book in my hand.

None of this makes any sense. None of it.

The unease I'd been holding back began creeping up my throat.

What's so important about this book? Why was it left here?

I pulled the cover open-

There were words handwritten in it. It was sloppy, but it was in English.

But I couldn't read it.

The words were there, on the page in front of me, they were legible, they were in English.

Even so, I couldn't read them.

What was wrong with me? I should be able to read this. I need to read this.

… Why? Why did I need to read this?

Flipping through the pages, all of them were the same: sloppy but legible handwriting, in English, but I couldn't read it.

Every page I turned was the same: both sides filled with text I couldn't read.

The more I saw, the more I wanted- needed to read whatever was there. It was important.

Why? Why is it important?

That… I don't know. It's something I need to figure out though.

How? I can't read it. Why can't I read it?

As more pages flashed by as I flipped through them erratically, the unease grew to outright discomfort. My hands started trembling.

What's wrong with me? I should be able to read this!

…

Then it just- stopped.

The writing stopped.

I blinked and flipped back a few pages.

Whoever had written this had stopped writing about halfway down one page. It couldn't have been more than a third of the way through.

Where was the rest?

Where the hell was the rest?

The rest of what? What am I even looking for?

How am I supposed to know?

Well, I'm the one trying to figure out what this is. I'm the one who thinks I need to read it. Why?

It's- something important. Whatever's written in here is important.

WHY?! What's important about it?

I don't-

My head snapped up and I shot to my feet.

Wait- my… feet?

Suddenly, I was in a crouch, tucked into the small, half-concealed alcove in the cell where I'd fallen asleep. My hands were raised, ready to block a strike.

There wasn't anything in front of me though.

Was… was that a dream?

It must have been. There's no other explanation for whatever the hell just happened. That classroom- it had felt so real. And the book- what was that book? What was in it? Why had I wanted so badly to read it? Had I seen it somewhere before? The windows and door had been blacked out. Was that because I didn't know what was past them? Or just that my dream hadn't been constructed beyond the classroom?

Dropping my arms, I lowered myself back to the ground. My clock read 0447. Everyone was still asleep.

That dream had felt more real than any dream I've ever-

Actually, no, that wasn't true.

The dream I had a week ago. In the house when I was on my way back to the Farms. After failing to capture that Raider.

Right before I 'met' Cole, Dawn, and Blaine.

Hold on. That classroom, the ruined desk, the chair in the middle…

That was in the high school. Specifically, the room where they'd been holding the Raider I brought there.

But why had there been a book in the chair instead of him? And what was so goddamn important about that book? Why had I been so dead set on reading it?

I leaned my head back against the wall and let out a long, slow breath.

At least it didn't leave me as shaken as last time. That would have been good, stuck in the Raiders' base.

Even so, I wasn't all that eager to go back to sleep. If that dream did come back, and it did get to me like the first time…

No. It was a bad idea. Besides, six hours of sleep is plenty.

Able didn't have much information to work with. Castle was interested in bringing me into their ranks, not a surprise. The Raiders had made them participate in fights and obstacle courses for their entertainment. Which included strapping those collars around Julian and Terry's necks.

And then there's Terry.

The Railroad operative was sure to emphasize he didn't have any hard evidence to go on, but he suspected Terry as the mole. Or, one of them, at least.

Whether he emphasized that because he was still working through it himself, or he was worried I'd do something, I didn't know.

Did I still want to tear his arms off and beat him to death with them? Yes. But I'm not that stupid and, despite my anger, I am accustomed to difficult situations. If Terry's the mole, outing him, or killing him, won't get us anything. No. We need to use him.

Misdirection is as useful a tool as any, especially when used right and in concert with other, more direct, action. It can not only leave someone unprepared, it can make them prepare for the wrong thing. If you can control that, make sure whatever they prepare for is something you can use, it's even worse for them.

The worst part is, right now, all I can do is wait. It didn't take me more than a few seconds to realize I could break the cell door off its hinges. The bars were thick, maybe four or five centimeters, so those would be hard to bend out of the way. Their joints with the floor and ceiling looked vulnerable though. They were all welded in series to a strip of steel. That was secured to the concrete with anchor bolts.

While I might not be able to bend the bars far enough, that strip and those small anchors were begging to be broken.

That's information I'll have to sit on. Breaking out now wouldn't do anything besides end up with someone dead.

Well, a lot of someones would end up dead. The problem is some of those would be on the support team.

All there was to do was wait. Wait for the infiltration team to gather intel. Wait for whatever response we might get from Maxson. Wait for our opportunity to break out.

Wait for my opportunity to kill Castle. And whatever's going on in my head with my conscience, killing Castle didn't get that benefit.

Because, before all of this is over, I am going to kill her.

Time slowly ticked off the clock in my HUD. It was a little after 0500 when someone else, a woman, on the support team stirred. She'd been sleeping beside two others, tucked against the wall to my right. I didn't know her name.

Should I? I did surrender myself to the Raiders to get these people out of here, sort of. Shouldn't I at least know their names?

As I watched, she looked over at me, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

Why had she-

My finger was tapping on the titanium plate over my knee.

I stopped. Cass… It was a tick I'd seen from her a few times. I guess that was enough for me to pick it up.

The woman glanced around the cell. When she noticed no one else was up, she met my gaze again.

A few seconds later, she began climbing to her feet. Did she want to talk? What would I say "Who are you"?

She paused halfway up and a frown flashed across her face. The hesitation only lasted an instant before she straightened and began creeping over.

At least I'm not the one who has to initiate the conversation.

"Hey…" she whispered once she was a few meters away. Her voice was light and clear. It matched her narrow face and athletic frame. "We haven't met yet. I'm Melanie."

"Damon."

A grin turned the edges of her mouth upward. "Y- yeah, I guessed that."

She fell silent again. I could feel her studying me, eyes taking in every detail. It was… awkward. I've never dealt with any of the UNSC's PR events. This was probably how Fourier felt any time he did.

The quiet and her stare dragged on long enough I could feel the agitation at the back of my mind.

It isn't like she means any harm. Relax.

No, she wasn't hurting me. She wasn't trying to hurt me. But that didn't mean I appreciated being stared at. It doesn't mean I have to tolerate being stared at.

"Conversations aren't my strong suit", I said quietly. "Is there something I can do for you?"

The small smile that had been on her face disappeared. "Oh- sorry, I didn't mean to bother you."

Melanie began to get up.

Great job, asshole.

"Wait." I held out a hand to stop her. "I didn't say you have to leave."

"No, but I've been around long enough. Don't worry I-"

"I understand. I'm-" I took a deep breath. "I'm Damon. I've heard the stories." Some of them.

Her smile came back. "You don't like being Damon?"

"Depends. I don't mind being me." I shrugged. "Don't know how I feel about being… idolized."

The smile grew wider. "Sounds like you do know how you feel about it."

"... Yeah. But I can't avoid it."

"That's true."

Melanie fell quiet again as she squinted at me. It didn't take Perkins to figure out she was thinking something.

"Yes?"

"Well… speaking of 'idols', I kinda wanted to hear straight from you which stories are true and which aren't."

That piqued my curiosity.

"What stories have people been telling?"

"You said you've heard them", she replied.

"Some of them."

She pursed her lips. "Okay, so… there's the one about beating Deathclaws to… death."

Sort of true. "I never beat one to death."

"But you have fought them?"

I nodded.

Melanie shifted, leaning closer. "What about breaking into the airport and fighting a bunch of the Brotherhood's knights on your own."

"No", I said, shaking my head. "I've fought a lot of Brotherhood soldiers, but I've never broken into the airport."

"Fighting off an ambush from them in Diamond City?"

"Yes."

She smiled again. "I heard you brought down a Vertibird there."

"I did."

"Wow." She nodded. "Not bad."

"Thanks for the endorsement", I muttered.

That got her to laugh. "Not bad either. I heard you don't have a sense of humor."

No sense of humor? It might be dry but I have a sense of humor. "From Brenda?"

"Julian, actually."

I rolled my eyes. "I think he's sour I've used him as the punchline."

She chuckled again.

"Everyone, and I mean everyone, knows about Quincy and the Forged so I won't ask about those." Melanie hummed.

"What about wrestling a Yao Gui?"

Had… Valentine asked me about that a while back? "A what?"

"They're these giant hairy things. I've seen people shoot 'em and not do anything."

"No." I shook my head again. "I don't know what that is."

She frowned. "I've also heard you tracked down and killed Kellogg. On your own."

"Yes and no. We tracked him down and I was the one who killed him, but Nick Valentine did a lot of the investigative work." I cocked my head. "I don't know much about him. That seems like a big deal to people."

"Well… yeah." Melanie crossed her arms and shivered. "He was the Institute's boogeyman. The Institute. For who the hell knows how long. I've heard stories about him too. About how he'd break into settlements and strongholds alone. Kill people and vanish. It seemed like he was around since the bombs dropped from how many stories are out there."

Yeah. I grunted. "People make a lot of those up." Before I could say anything else, a thought occurred. Kellogg kidnapped Shaun and killed Nora. That was 60 years ago. But he was still an active and trusted Institute field operative when I killed him. That mission, to recover Shaun, was important- essential to the Institute's goals. They wouldn't send just anyone on it. Kellogg must have been their top asset.

It would take time to develop that kind of trust, especially for an organization that values its creations more than people. I wouldn't hazard a guess on how long that would be but… it wouldn't be short. Even if it had only been a few years…

I closed my eyes and tried to remember, how had Nate described him to Valentine? Bald, scar across his left eye?

Not much to go off of but he looked the same when I saw him.

How? Cryo?

It didn't really matter. He was active for over 60 years. Possibly 70. Or more. That was enough time to build up quite the reputation.

"He was active for at least 60 years."

The woman pursed her lips. "How do you know that?"

"N-" That's Nate's story, not mine. "It isn't my story to tell but it isn't speculation."

"I- I don't even know how that would be possible." She shook her head. "Some of the things I've heard- if that's true, maybe I need to rethink them. You killed him though. That's incredible. If what you say is true."

"Well", I motioned to myself, "it wasn't a fair fight." I glanced back toward the front of the cell where everyone was still sleeping. "If Nate had to do it on his own… I don't know if he would have gotten past the traps Kellogg had rigged, but I'd take Nate over Kellogg in a heads-up fight."

"You think?"

"Yeah", I said, nodding slowly. "He has instincts and talent you don't learn, even in almost two decades of active duty."

Melanie followed my gaze. "Oh. Wow. I didn't know. That's a huge compliment coming from you."

I cocked my head again. "Why?"

"You're- I mean", she motioned at me, "you're Damon. You got everyone in the Commonwealth that isn't the Minutemen or with the Minutemen afraid of you. And to most of the people in the Minutemen you're-" the older woman stopped mid-sentence and shook her head. The words had been tumbling out so fast, from the frown on her face, it looked like she hadn't meant to say it all. "Sorry. I forgot you don't like that. But an endorsement like that from you of all people- that means a lot. I knew Nate was good, Preston wouldn't have put him in charge of this team if he wasn't. I just didn't know he was that good."

It's something I'll have to get used to. "You can trust him. He's been through the fire."

"Can I trust you?"

"I'm Damon, remember?"

Melanie smiled. "Yeah. I thought you didn't like that." She chuckled. "You know, you're a lot easier to talk to than I expected."

"It wasn't always that way", I mused.

"Oh, I've heard those stories too."

"I still don't like being in large groups but-" I was going to say "you could thank Nate, Brenda, and Cass for changing that." That… wouldn't be a fair statement to make though. Yes, they helped, but a lot of people have gone through more effort than I had any right to expect to break me out of that shell.

Fourier's efforts not least among them.

"It took a lot of people to make me comfortable talking one on one."

Melanie looked back at the cell's main area. "Is that why you're over here?"

"Yeah."

"I heard stories from Preston about when you first met. Everyone who lives in Sanctuary knows what you did back then too. He said uh-" she hesitated again. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested to hear what Preston thought of me when we first met. I wasn't very nice to any of them.

I motioned for her to continue.

"... In his words- "I didn't know such a massive asshole could change so much. Damon has his issues but he's a good guy once you get to know him." Or something along those lines…"

The woman trailed off at the end, staring at me like she might be worried about my response.

"Still not sure about the "good guy" part."

A relieved smile flashed across her face. "That's why I expected this to be harder."

"Why'd you come over here then?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them. "Shit, I didn't mean I don't want you talking to me. Just why you'd want to."

"I understand", she said with a nod. "Being locked in this cell isn't how I'd want the opportunity but I wasn't going to miss it. I wanted to find out for myself." Her smile broadened. "Now I get to brag about how I had a one-on-one conversation with Damon. I got to learn which stories happened from the man himself."

She stopped for an instant and frowned. "You are a man, right? That's something else people wonder about. Like an Institute experiment that turned on them. Or a pre-war robot built in secret. That you were sealed in a vault until recently."

"That's… imaginative." It was my turn to chuckle. "No. I'm a man. Mostly."

"And that… armor?"

"Power armor specially built for- me." It was mostly true.

"By who?"

"That answer would take a lot of explaining."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Is that code for "I don't want to"?"

"Yes", I replied.

"Okay, that's fair." She started to stand. "I don't wanna bother you too much. You have a lot going on."

That felt a little sudden. And she took the time to come over here to talk to me, the least I could do is learn a little about her.

"Wait a sec", I said.

The woman paused, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Yeah?"

"I… don't know anything about you."

"No- why would you?" She frowned. "Not to be mean but I'm- I'm not anyone important. I only went to Sanctuary because I heard my parents moved there. I don't have some crazy story like a lot of folks around here do." The woman shrugged. "I've lived a pretty boring life. Until now. For living around here, anyways."

I shrugged. "That doesn't matter. Last time I checked, we're all locked in this cell."

After a short silence, Melanie's frown faded. "Well, uh, my family started down south in the Appalachians. We moved up here when I was young. Started in Diamond City but it got too crowded for Mom. Lived a while in a settlement just out of town called the West Everett Estates, at least that's what the big sign out front-" she froze, mouth open. "Is there something wrong?"

The West Everett Estates.

My hands had balled into fists.

Cass. Thomas. Julian. Their parents. The bodies.

"It's-"

What do I say? She said her family lives in Sanctuary now, so they wouldn't have been caught by the Supermutants but… would she want to know what happened to it?

"I've been there. It- was overrun by Supermutants."

"What?" She whispered. Her voice was so low I barely heard it. "When?"

"It was a few months ago." I shook my head. "I don't know when the Supermutants showed up."

Melanie almost seemed to shrink away from me, even though she didn't move.

"Oh… I- I didn't know. I left three or four years back. Wanted to get out on my own. Figured out that wasn't all that great after spending most of my time doing hard jobs just to survive. Heard mom, dad, and Colin- my brother moved to Sanctuary about a month ago." She looked back at me. "Do you know what happened to the people there?"

She asked the question as if she already knew the answer.

The pile of bones and dismembered bodies…

I nodded slowly.

"… Dammit. I hope more of 'em got out than just my family. Frank and Julie and Zach and-"She stopped and exhaled. It was long and labored, like she was trying very hard to control herself. "Sorry, I don't mean to bother you with this."

Bother me? "No, you aren't doing anything wrong. We both know what Supermutants do. That was… my first exposure to it. We managed to get a few people out. Kids."

She closed her eyes. "I'm glad at least someone survived. Hopefully I can meet them." When she opened them again, they were focused. "We have to get out of here first." She stood. "Thank you- for talking with me, I mean. It's good to know you're- uh- whatever you wanna say, I think Preston's right. You're a good guy."

Maybe. "I'm trying."

Before turning to walk away, Melanie flashed one last smile. "And, whatever happens, thanks for coming to get us too."

With that, she made her way back to the cell's main area.

The interaction had been… strangely pleasant.

Not sure calling it 'strangely pleasant' is the right way to look at it. She just wanted to talk.

True as that may be, talking with strangers isn't something I generally enjoy. Maybe she was just better at it than most? That could have been what prompted her to try.

It did give me a little more insight into how the rest of the Minutemen look at me. Their admiration was expected but it wasn't exactly as I expected.

At the very least some people aren't too intimidated by it, or me, to at least have a conversation.

Isn't that funny? Six months ago, I hated when people tried to talk to me. Now it's welcome.

Yeah… I blame Fourier and Nate.

Fourier was the one who emphasized it.

What had he said? The first time he made me laugh?

We were attached to a small envoy team for security on an outer colony negotiation. I was in the ship's small gym when one of the negotiators came in to complain about my conduct. I… don't remember what I'd done during that day's exhausting series of meetings. Probably said something. It was already frustrating to be on that sort of detail but it couldn't always be shooting. And sometimes we had to play straight and fair. I wasn't ONI anymore. That's what Amanda kept telling me, anyway.

My response to the negotiator was, for all intents, "fuck off."

When Fourier found me after I finished showering, he was both amused and irritated. Mostly irritated. "I was in the Helljumpers for a decade, I've been in SPARTAN OPs for two years, and I swear to fucking god my greatest accomplishment will be when I get you to hold a normal conversation."

"That wasn't a conversation", I'd replied.

"Holy- give this kid a medal, he can tell different types of interpersonal interactions apart." My squad leader rubbed his eyes. "Look, Damon, we're all struggling here. None of us like this assignment but it's gonna be over in two days. Please- please just be less of a pain in my ass. Even if it's only a little. I promise I'll find something for you to shoot when we get back?"

"It isn't about shoot-"

Fourier reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. "Shut the fuck up. This is what I mean about holding a regular conversation. Smile, nod, and say "Yes sir, I'll be happy to shoot something after we're done here"."

I blinked.

"The biggest thing", Fourier continued. "I will find you the absolute biggest thing you could possibly shoot. Even if that's just your dickhead handler's ego."

"His ego?"

James nodded. "No promises on the result. He's ONI so it's probably bulletproof."

Even now, I'm not sure why I started laughing. It hadn't been a particularly funny joke. Maybe it was because Polk, my handler, was a massive jackass.

But I was on my best behavior for the next two days. Which mostly meant I stayed as far away from everyone as possible and ardently avoided any more "interpersonal interactions."

I never got the chance to shoot anything regarding Polk. But we were assigned to a task force to clear out a Covenant Remnant outpost. Can't say I didn't enjoy that.

As aggravating as some of the last 18 months have been, especially since finding myself in the Commonwealth, I don't regret how I've changed. The me from my time with ONI wouldn't have had a second thought about leaving these people here to die. Hell, me from back then would have wiped out the Railroad and would currently be cooperating with the Institute. The Minutemen wouldn't have reformed, Sanctuary would have been destroyed, and most of the people under their umbrella now would likely be dead.

No, I'm glad I've changed. Knowing what I do now, thinking about these people the way I do now… the thought of all that happening was almost revolting.

A smile drifted across my face.

And I wouldn't gotten to meet Melanie.

Fourier would be proud of that conversation.

Maybe I'll be able to tell him about it one day.

Yeah. Right.

I looked back toward the area where the support team was still sleeping.

It's my responsibility to get these people out of here. One that I've decided is my responsibility. No one else. Yes, there are other people working on this but… I'm the best tool they have. Maybe that's egotistical to think. The infiltration team is taking on just as much risk as me. The recon team is out there, like myself and Deacon with his team, gathering as much intel as they can.

But, at the end of the day, this is going to involve fighting our way out.

No one here, on any of the teams, deserves anything but the absolute best version of me.

The image of Vince's headless corpse lying in front of me hung in my mind. I couldn't let that happen again. I need to be ready for whatever Castle throws my way.

X

"The key is he can't feel singled out", Able said.

"So a group", Nate replied, "and everyone else needs to be people we know aren't moles."

The operative nodded. "That's right. The people can't be too obvious either."

"Trent, Brenda, Julian, and Kim."

"That… sounds like a pretty good mix. Julian's a good idea. Add in Alex. It would make it more believable. We'll get 'em together in a minute."

It had been more than a minute, but the eight of us had finally assembled. Terry, the subject of our meeting was hobbling around, a dressing on his left thigh. He'd been shot, apparently, after failing to complete an obstacle course in the allotted time. I wonder if Castle told him about that part of the plan.

Probably not.

"I understand Trent and Brenda", Julian said. "But why am I here?"

"Compartmentalization", Able responded. "Don't know if we have anyone working for the Raiders in here. We're keeping information as separated as possible to reduce the risk of something important getting back to Castle."

"So, what, are we going over a plan?" The younger woman, Kim, asked.

Nate shrugged. "Kind of. You three", he motioned at Julian, Kim, and Terry, "have been through their matches. Trent, Alex, and Brenda have been observing. Now that Damon's here, we need to figure out what they'll be throwing at him."

"Well… what did they do yesterday?" Terry asked.

"Explosive traps, EMP, small arms' fire, set me on fire, and close-quarters combat", I said.

"It was closer to a maze than the straightforward stuff we've been part of", Nate continued. "Seemed like they were trying to gauge what he can do and what he can take."

Alex cocked an eyebrow at the ex-soldier. "Didn't you say they wanted to learn how he solved problems?"

"Yeah, that too." Nate nodded before flashing me a pained smile. "I think they figured out you like smashing your way through things."

"No", I replied, "they learned a lot more than that." The tightness in my voice wasn't entirely for show. Even if I hadn't given them anything serious, it still frustrated me they managed to pull what they had out.

Then again, what else could I have done? Limited time, no weapons, and people's lives on the line. I had to get a little creative.

"We can worry about that later. It sounds like they'll try to find a weakness and exploit it."

Brenda shifted. "Castle said she wants him to join them. Why would they be looking for a weakness to exploit?"

"Because it gives them another vector for coercion", Trent mused. "They already have us-" he looked at Nate. "Well, you two. If they can find some method of direct influence, that will make their leverage significantly more effective."

The conversation fell quiet. Not that I can take credit for it but Mjolnir armor, especially the second-generation suits, doesn't have weaknesses. Hardened against EMP, radiation, two-three hours' oxygen supply, is fireproof, a conductive shell to move electricity away from the wearer, and a lot of impact-dampening methods. There are really only two ways to destroy a suit of it: shoot it with something big enough, or crush it with something heavy enough. Both endeavors take a lot.

"Those large caliber rifles are a threat", I admitted quietly. That wasn't a complete lie. My undersuit would most likely stop a round from one but it wasn't something I wanted to test. They don't have any Gauss rifles from the Institute, at least.

"Have you been shot with one yet?" Nate asked.

I shook my head. "A few near misses."

"That's something we'll have to look out for." Nate turned to the group. "Terry, Kim, Julian, this is where we're looking for some input. That obstacle course was a pretty good display of how they build their… events. Do you two have any ideas?"

Terry's hand went to his thigh, mouth twisting in annoyance. "So many goddamn spikes. And then that bitch shoots me after I get done."

A bad attempt at cover?

"Yeah, that pissed me off", Julian said. He put a hand around his neck. "Those collars. They like using those." The teenager froze and turned to me. "Would that work on you?"

It was a good question. Depending on how large the charges were, and what kind of fragmentation they had…

"Possibly. But that isn't any different than asking if strapping a large enough bomb to my back would kill me." I shrugged. "Conventional attempts aren't what I'm worried about."

Kim raised her hand. It looked… a little ridiculous given the environment but the young, black-haired woman didn't seem like she wanted to be noticed, even when she did. "Can I ask something?"

"Shoot", Nate said.

"Would it be a good idea to say what they might be able to exploit and work backward from there? I mean, it would narrow things down for us, wouldn't it?"

Able scratched the back of his head. "That's a good suggestion. It's kind of a yes/no situation. It'll make planning for something that might hurt Damon more straightforward but it would limit us to just those things. They don't know what weaknesses he might have so they'll try anything they can think of. Plus", the operative frowned, "I don't like suggesting someone in here might be a mole but we can't rule it out. Don't want information like that floating around."

"Oh… yeah, that's- that makes sense. Sorry."

"Don't be", I said. "That's a good idea. This isn't the right situation for it."

"Is all", I added as Nate began turning toward me.

The ex-soldier flashed me a small grin, eyebrow cocked ever so slightly. Bastard looked amused.

It was a good idea. One that would be more valuable if we were fighting an enemy that used a more… methodical approach.

The conversation continued for several minutes. I could tell Nate and Able were trying to hide my fake vulnerability in the other ideas. If we came out and said it, Terry would get suspicious. If Terry thought we were onto him, that would both ruin our chance to influence Castle from behind the scenes, and potentially change their tactics.

"What if they find out about your- uh", Nate said, pursing his lips. "The whole electricity thing?"

I cocked my head.

"Yeah, I know they'd have to figure it out but…" he shrugged, "they're gonna try everything."

"Electricity thing?" Julian asked. "I wouldn't think armor like yours wouldn't be able to deal with electricity."

Julian's timing was perfect, even if he didn't know it. "It's… complicated. My shield can be volatile. They're experimental. I'm not going to say any more than that."

The teenager frowned. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"You're good", Nate said. "I probably shouldn't have mentioned anything."

While the two of them talked, I turned my eyes to look at Terry, careful to keep my head still. His face was expressionless but his eyes were drilling into me. They were way too focused for normal observation.

Let's see if you're right about this, Able.

X

"Is that right?" I asked as we turned to the north.

Deacon cocked an eyebrow behind his glasses. "You don't sound convinced."

"I'm not."

"It makes sense", the Railroad agent said. "No offense, but anyone looking from the outside in would think the same thing. She's just trying to push you to a breaking point."

I glanced at him. That's logic I couldn't argue with.

But I have to give myself at least some credit: I enjoy a good fight but, even at my worst, I never enjoyed killing.

Except for Covenant.

There's a good reason for that.

The jeering from the spectating Raiders was making it hard to stay quiet. They were still lining either side of the path. Either they were informed I'd be moving, or they'd been waiting there until I did. My guess is Castle arranged this. Yes, she wants me to join them, but she's looking for a way to kill me too. If she thinks this will throw me off…

"Okay", I said through a deep exhale. "So whatever this is will be pushing me in that direction."

Deacon nodded.

If that's true, maybe Castle genuinely did expect me to kill Julian and Vincent. It's possible those collars were only insurance.

"She won't waste her people on this then", I mused. "I don't think she cares what happens to them but whoever's over her will."

"Oh yeah?"

It was my turn to nod. "Nate told me she said she'd have killed the Raider he and Brenda let go during our escape. 'Another gun', that's what she called him."

"Hmm. You'll be fighting prisoners then."

My mind brought back images of the people I fought in the Gauntlet yesterday. 13 prisoners. Now I have to fight more.

We turned left after a hundred meters and headed toward the center of the base.

"Most likely." I looked at him again. "Speaking of our escape…"

The Railroad agent shot me a smile. "Don't worry. Dez handled it."

"You know how."

He nodded again. "I do. Information control is important when you're fighting the Institute. We know what we're doing."

"I know. That's why I want to hear it."

That drew a chuckle. "Damon, I'm sure you want to learn everything you can, but you have more pressing things to focus on. We'll talk about that later."

Yeah. More pressing things.

I turned back to the front of our little party.

Castle was striding at its head. Her head was held high and she was walking with a deliberate, slow pace. She was enjoying this. She'd managed to bring in Damon. I have no idea how many Raiders I've killed at this point. Whatever the number, I'm here under her watch, because of her plan.

That has to be something she's bragging about.

While I'm sure she would love to have me join the Raiders, I think she's getting just as much out of this as whether this plan succeeds.

You can enjoy this. I'm going to get the last laugh. Hopefully over your dead body.

If that's going to happen, I need to have my head on straight. I don't know what she has planned. Right now, my job is to draw attention, buy time, and learn how her operation works. The less I show, the better. I need to keep in mind this isn't my normal operation. It's about scheming as much as fighting.

Keep things simple. Be a hammer, for now. Keep Castle's focus on you. Let the infiltration team do the subtle stuff.

A moment later, we reached the end of the buildings. The path led to a large, open area in front of a mostly intact admin building. The base's parade ground.

Isn't this where Julian and Terry had to run an obstacle course?

That was to my right. It was so familiar as to be near painful. The rope climbs, monkey bars, balance beams, climbing walls, and platform obstacles all reminded me of the not-too-long-ago suffering those inflicted on me.

Ahead of us was a large, fenced… arena, for lack of a better term. It was a circle, 50 meters in diameter, ringed by a 3-meter-high chain link fence. Barbed wire was fed through most of it with a coil wrapped around the top.

Around it, and us, were what must have been a thousand Raiders. I could feel every eye in the crowd on me. There was the customary jeering but a lot of the assembled asshats were quiet.

An arena fight? There was no cover inside. There wasn't any cover for the spectators either. I couldn't imagine they'd be handing out guns.

"Don't get killed", Deacon whispered as he stepped off to the side with the other half-dozen Raiders that had been my escort.

Getting killed wasn't my concern. Not yet. If they're setting up an arena fight with no firearms, I don't have much to worry about from whoever I'm facing.

My eyes drifted to Castle who had come to a stop by a gate leading into the large ring.

No… she's planning something.

Duh.

The question is what?

She beckoned me forward. The Raider leader was, again, wearing that unnaturally wide smile.

I started toward her, the Raider guard around her grouping closer around their commander.

"That's far enough", Ben called once I was a few meters away.

"So what do you think?" Castle asked, motioning to the fenced-off arena.

There was no need to respond. What did I think? If she's as smart as she pretends, she knows what I think.

After a few seconds of relative silence, the Raider leader huffed. "I like the stubborn streak. Well, maybe you'll like it a little more if I told you this will be a fistfight. Mostly." She stepped forward, running her eyes over me again. "It wouldn't be fair if whoever I stuck in there with you didn't have something. I don't think a punch would get through that beautiful armor. And I know you can hit hard."

Her eyes shifted. She looked to my left. "Julian! You're becoming my favorite prisoner. Well- besides Damon of course. So you get to be his partner for this!"

Partner. Hand-to-hand combat. Mostly. Whatever they gave the, most likely, prisoners I'd be fighting wouldn't be guns. She was trying to slow me down. If there's a significant number of combatants and they're armed with something that might hurt me, I can't leave Julian on his own.

"Step up, kid", someone shouted from behind me. I glanced back to see a Raider shoving Julian forward.

He tried to hide it, but the teenager had all the signs of extreme distress: tight jaw, neck, and shoulders, wide eyes-

His hands were trembling and legs shaking.

I couldn't blame him. This will be the fourth time he's had to do one of these. The last time…

Last time, Vincent died.

Alex was behind him, standing with Nate, Terry, Trent, and one of the support team I didn't know.

She looked just as scared as him.

"Choose someone else", I said over the low din of the crowd, turning back to Castle.

"Do you think you're in a position to make demands?"

Yes. "There's only a few meters between us."

Her smile disappeared. "Damon, let's skip the sideshow. You wouldn't have come here if you didn't think you wanted to save your friends. You aren't about to throw all of their lives away over this."

"It wouldn't be throwing their lives away. You'd be dead. A lot of your friends would be dead."

"And so would the Minutemen's champion." Castle shook her head.

This wouldn't work. The more I do this, and the more I concede, the more confident she'll get. I need to find a better way.

"See how much you can push that." I took a step backward to stand next to Julian.

Castle threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, don't worry. We won't need to take it that far." She moved aside and motioned toward the gate. "Step forward, gentlemen." One of the guards swung it open.

I heard Julian suck a hard breath through his teeth.

Dammit. My eyes drifted down to the kid beside me. He was staring straight ahead, eyes wide, hands full on shaking.

Vincent. I can't let that happen again.

But if he's going to make it through, he needs to relax. Whatever Castle has in store for us, it's going to be life-threatening.

"Hey", I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder. Julian damn near jumped.

"I've got you."

Julian blinked.

"We have to get through this. Take a deep breath. Stay next to me and do what I say. You'll be fine."

He swallowed hard.

Then he sucked another long, deep breath in.

"Good. Again."

"Any time now", Castle said.

"I'll do it when I'm ready", I snapped.

Julian took another breath.

And another.

After a fourth, his jaw began to loosen and he nodded.

"I've got you", I repeated.

"I know", he whispered. His voice was as tight as the rest of him, but at least he was able to talk.

We started toward the gate.

Once we were inside, I pulled Julian away from the gate. "We'll be fighting prisoners. They won't have firearms but knives or improvised weapons are a risk."

The teenager wasn't looking at me, his dinner plate-sized eyes were roaming the crowd of Raiders surrounding us.

"Julian", I snapped.

He jerked away but I didn't let him go. "You'll be fine if you work with me."

No response.

"Nod if you understand."

After another heartbeat pause, he did.

I looked around the ring. No one approaching yet. We still have a little time. Julian wouldn't be a valuable combatant.

Hand-to-hand combat. I don't need to kill whoever I fight as long as they aren't a threat to Julian. The chance to gain support from the other prisoners might already be buried but I have to try to save it.

And these people aren't the ones I'm here to fight. They don't want to be prisoners.

What was the name of Cole's father? Jackson? He could be here too. These prisoners are innocent people the Raiders attacked and captured.

Now they're putting them in a ring with me for their entertainment.

Bastards.

"We're fighting prisoners", I said again. "No guns. Stay next to me no matter what happens. Understood?"

Julian nodded. "Yeah." His voice was barely loud enough to hear over the jeering.

Movement on the far end. People approaching the fence. It had to be at least a dozen.

There was no ceremony this time. The small gate on the far end was swung open and eight of them filed in.

All of them were dressed like Raiders. Each was carrying a two-meter-long pole with a bulb of some sort on the end.

They were thin though. Almost to the point of looking malnourished.

I motioned to the right and started shuffling that way. I never took my eyes off our opponents. My objective is surviving this unharmed. Both of us.

The last thing I'm going to do is not take them seriously.

Julian followed, staying just left and behind me.

The prisoners started advancing on us almost immediately. Two were running, the rest maintained a steady pace behind them.

Each of the two that were running had those poles held out in front of them, bulbs facing me. They were cone-shaped, pointing outward. Probably a shaped charge inside.

They were a little less than 10 seconds away running even with each other. There were plenty of broken pieces of concrete I could use as projectiles. That's something I should save until I absolutely need it.

I continued leading Julian to the right. It isn't much, but I don't need much. Half a second. Just enough time to deal with the initial strike.

The two leads adjusted their course to follow.

We kept moving. The prisoners continued bending their approach.

Five seconds.

"Behind me", I said.

A meter or two difference. That was enough space.

Julian scrambled behind me.

Two seconds.

Time slowed. I widened my stance ever so slightly and dropped into a half-crouch.

The first prisoner, the one on the right reached us an instant before the other. His pole was aimed straight at my chest.

His mouth was twisted in a snarl, eyes narrowed.

My right hand moved.

The bulb was a meter away.

As soon as it was within reach, I batted the pole aside.

It cleared me by a hand's breadth and he continued past me, stumbling without the impact he was bracing for.

Once he was past, I knocked the staff coming at me from the left away.

Then I shoulder-checked the prisoner carrying it.

The man had been sprinting at me full speed. That came to a stop in an instant.

As my shoulder connected with his, the prisoner left his feet and cartwheeled past me.

His yelp didn't last long. By the time he hit the ground, the man was in a daze. Probably concussed.

The rest of the group was too close to finish the second prisoner off.

"Left", I barked at Julian.

We began moving. I stepped over the downed prisoner and grabbed his discarded weapon. It was wooden, the bulb at the end secured with what looked like twine. Another piece was running from the rear, the ignition no doubt.

Snapping the bulb off, I cradled it in my left hand as we continued shuffling toward the gate.

As we did, the larger group drew within 10 meters of us. They stopped, each holding their makeshift weapons like medieval spearmen.

Their formation was… strange. It wasn't strange in that it was unusual. It was strange because of how orthodox it looked. They were arranged in an arc around us, mirroring our movements. Each of them was within reach of another so they could cover each other in case I chose one to attack.

Even as we moved away, the prisoner I hadn't injured hurried to join his team, sliding into line with them.

All of this looked drilled.

When had they taken the time to learn this? Why had they taken the time to learn this?

I stopped as we neared the gate again. The prisoners followed suit. They didn't close though.

What the hell?

The jeering grew louder.

This wasn't a bad setup. I can't do what I normally would, single out a weak point, because those were the edges of their formation. They were far enough away, it would be difficult to reach one of them, dispatch them, and move back to Julian before he was attacked. With no weapon and his current mental state, that would be a disaster. Especially if they decided to set off one of the charges. Considering what I've seen so far, those will be loaded with shrapnel.

Likely not a threat to me, but it would kill Julian.

Before I could decide on what to do, the group began advancing on us.

Where's a weakness? What can I exploit? Is there a way I can do this without killing them?

The question needs to be "How do I keep both of us alive and healthy?"

If I only focus on that-

Then the prisoners will probably hate me. If I don't, things might go sideways. My primary objective is our safety. If I'm not focused on that, why did I come?

I stepped back to stand beside Julian. "Look straight ahead. On my mark, run left as fast as you can."

"... Okay", came his hesitant reply.

The prisoner on the left side of the semi-circle was a tall, lanky man. His 'armor' consisted of barely enough leather and steel plates to cover his chest, torso, and waist. The spacing between him and the woman to his left was good. Nothing to take advantage of there.

Seven meters.

That just means both of them need to go.

"Three."

My hand tightened around the pole.

"Two. One."

…

Five meters.

"Mark."

Julian sprung to the left and raced toward the fence.

The prisoners' attention shifted in unison to him. It was only for an instant.

In that instant, the pole was no longer in my hand. It was hurtling at the woman, second from the left.

Before any of them could turn their focus back on me, the solid-wood staff slammed into her. It hit high, dull end driving straight into the base of her neck.

She tumbled over backward.

Next target. My legs were already driving.

While I have no idea how these charges are built, I can guess pulling on the string coming from it is how you detonate them.

After a few strides, I was even with Julian, shielding him from the approaching prisoners.

Doing my best to keep the business end of the explosive pointed at our opponents, I hurled it toward them.

The trigger was just over two meters long, just like the poles. That would have to be enough.

It hit the end of its string, pulled taunt, and I yanked.

Just like the mine from yesterday, there was a split-second delay between the pull and detonation. I used that split second to turn and cover Julian.

The explosive went off with a boom. It wasn't as powerful as the anti-personnel mines in the Gauntlet. Even so, the shockwave slammed into me hard enough to flare my shields. They didn't drain more than a fraction though.

Julian yelped, whether that was in surprise or pain, I couldn't tell. It was barely audible over the explosion.

He stumbled, but he didn't stop running.

When the smoke and dust cleared enough for me to see, the man I'd thrown the bomb at was on the ground, the right side of his head sheared away. The next prisoner in line was also down. I couldn't see what injury they might have. It could have been from the detonation itself, or shrapnel thrown by it.

Two of the last four were staggering from the concussion.

"Keep going", I shouted.

I bent my path toward the group. The dead man's pole had been blown apart by the charge. The one I'd thrown at the next woman was lying beside her.

This has to be fast. I only have a few seconds before they recover.

Grabbing the pole as I passed, I lunged at the first prisoner. Once in range, I swung the pole like a bat. It hit the older man in the left arm and shattered in an explosion of splinters.

He was flung to the ground accompanied by a scream of pain.

My momentum carried me into the next prisoner. Unlike in the Gauntlet, I didn't slam into him full force. Even so, the impact was enough to send the man sprawling before he tumbled off of his feet.

Then I turned to the remaining two-

One?

One, a large, relatively healthy-looking man was pulling his staff around to face me. The other was-

Worry about this one first.

I dove to the side as he triggered his explosive.

That wasn't enough to avoid all of the blast. My shields burst to life as they deflected some of the concussion and shrapnel.

As I came out of my tumble, I caught a glimpse of the woman running to my left. Straight toward Julian. Best as I could tell, the teenager was still sprinting along the wall. How far would that charge be lethal?

Better not find out.

Right.

Turning on the man beside me, I lunged across the few meters between us. He had discarded the staff and was backpedaling. His right hand was coming up from behind his back.

A knife.

He swiped at me, his hand in and out of my reach in an instant.

Most inexperienced knife fighters would go for hard strikes. This guy knew landing anything in a knife fight would have an impact. You usually win conventional knife fights with another trained combatant by attrition.

A soldier? A well-trained guard? A mercenary?

It doesn't matter. It's a knife, not a plasma sword.

Before he could gather for another strike, I closed. He didn't panic. He tried to sidestep, sweeping the knife as a deterrent.

Unfortunately, for him, it wasn't.

I grabbed his wrist with my left hand and launched an open-palmed strike into his stomach with my right. It wasn't hard enough to damage anything, but it did hurt. He let out a pained grunt and sagged in my grasp.

But he didn't release the knife.

Sorry. I need that.

My right hand wrapped around the blade and I tore it from his grasp.

A wordless scream exploded from him as I turned toward the woman. She was still after Julian. He was still five or ten meters away from her.

She was aiming her pole at him.

I flipped the knife in my hand.

And flung it at her.

It flashed across the intervening 15 meters before burying itself in her left shoulder blade.

She stumbled forward and, even from here, I could hear her scream.

Then her charge went off.

My heart beat hard. So hard, it felt like it was trying to fight out of my chest.

Another wordless scream came from behind me and I felt something slam into my back.

That wasn't important. What had-

Something wrapped around my neck. Tight.

Where was Julian?

I took a step toward where-

He was running. He was still running along the fence.

The blast had missed.

It had missed.

The breath I'd been holding managed to fight its way past the lump in my throat.

No more charges, not near Julian, at least. And the woman was on the ground, clawing at the knife in her back.

Over. It's over.

While the entire thing couldn't have been more than 30 seconds, it felt like a day.

With that finished, my attention turned to what I now realized was the man on my back. He had an arm wrapped around my neck and was squeezing with everything he had.

So that breath had to fight its way past him too.

Grabbing the prisoner's forearm, I pulled it away from my neck. His muscles were trembling with effort and he let out a strangled groan as he fought to keep hold.

"Julian!" I shouted over the din from the crowd. Had it been this loud the entire time? It felt like every Raider around the ring was screaming at me. "It's over!"

I continued pulling the man's arm away until he was forced to let go of the chokehold.

"The hell it is", the man hissed.

He shifted-

But I wasn't going to give him another chance.

The man shouted again as I jerked him off my back by his arm. I twisted so he landed in front of me with a thud.

That, apparently, wasn't enough for him. As soon as he was on the ground, he began trying to scramble away.

Placing an armored boot on his chest, I forced him to the broken concrete.

"Stop fighting." I lowered my voice. "No one else needs to die for them." I jerked my head toward the fence. The Raiders behind it were starting to get louder.

Julian stopped just in front of me and the downed man.

The prisoner stilled. Which was… unexpected.

"Yeah?" the man asked, voice dripping with incredulity. His eyes were narrow, and his mouth was twisted in a grimace.

"Yeah." I nodded and stepped away.

The jeering redoubled, Raiders screaming. At me. It was both gratifying and incredibly disconcerting at the same time. Upsetting them was almost cathartic. But it put everyone at risk.

Two of the still-living prisoners, one who I'd hit with the pole, and the other I'd run into, were still on the ground. The two who had been caught in the blast were dead.

My aim had been off, not that I made a habit of throwing spears. The woman I'd hit was dead too. The end of the wooden pole had hit her a dozen centimeters higher than I'd wanted. It crushed her trachea at the base of her throat.

I have to be better. But… My attention turned to the near-riotous crowd. There will be time to unpack that later.

The prisoner climbed to his feet, his glare fixed on me. After a few seconds, he turned and trotted toward the woman still struggling for the knife in her back.

Who was he? Trained, experienced, and disciplined. He wasn't a normal settler. Not even an experienced guard. That was military training. Brotherhood?

Just as he reached her, the gate where we had entered swung open. Castle strode through followed by Ben and the rest of her guard. Nate and the others stayed outside, surrounded by Raiders.

The Raider boss was, unsurprisingly, walking straight toward Julian and me.

"Three out of eight, looks like", Castle mused as she stopped in front of me. "What are you trying to prove out here?"

What am I trying to prove? "Nothing."

Something was off… what-

The crowd. Everyone around the arena had fallen silent.

"Yeah?" She motioned to the two prisoners I'd knocked to the ground. The one I'd run into was pushing himself into a sitting position. "Then why are these still alive? They were a threat to you and your friend, right?" The Raider's eyes narrowed. She looked… angry. Angry and frustrated. It was the first piece of genuine emotion I'd seen from her. "You did come here to save them, right?"

"I neutralized the threat."

"Sure, soldier boy. And you left them able to regroup and attack you again."

"With-" the rest of the sentence stopped in my throat. Why would I argue my tactics with Castle? Is she trying to interrogate me?

Closing my mouth, I took a half-step to my right to put myself between Julian and the Raiders.

"... If that's the way you want this to go then…" she muttered before raising her voice. "Ben, bring the two of them over here."

The guard smirked. "You got it."

He motioned to two other Raiders and they started toward the prisoners. The injured woman was hobbling toward the far side of the arena with the help of her only uninjured teammate.

"You still don't understand the rules of the game we're playing, Damon", Castle spat. "I know what I want. I get what I want. If I don't get what I want, people get hurt."

She reached down to-

My eyes narrowed.

Castle was reaching for one of the unused charges.

"Before you get any ideas", she said, "you don't need to worry. I'm not dumb enough to put myself in a combat situation with you." The Raider straightened, holding the pole. She was wearing a new smile. "Oh no. There's a reason I did this the way I did."

A moment later, the other Raiders returned with their prisoners. The larger man was still glaring at me.

Castle turned to them. "So here's what's gonna happen, Buck. Someone-" she paused, mouth open. "No, no, never mind. Wendy. Someone is going to be dead in the next minute or so. It's up to all of you to decide who that is." She shoved the weapon into the injured woman's hands. "You can either shoot Julian here", she pointed at the teenager, "or I'm gonna put a bullet in Buck's head." The Raider turned to me. "Damon. Your options are to either let Julian die or kill Wendy. If you try to assault me or one of these fine gentlemen", she motioned at the other Raiders, "your friends outside die. Ben, would you be so kind?" the woman held out a hand.

The guard hesitated. "I'm not givin' him a gun."

Castle smiled again. "Don't worry. He's only getting one bullet and, if he's dumb enough to shoot any of us, it's gonna be me, not you."

She's right about that…

He stared at me for another few seconds before unholstering his sidearm and handing it to her. The Raider boss checked to make sure a round was chambered before dropping the magazine and offering me the pistol.

Before I had the chance to turn it away, the Raider said, "If you don't take it, I just kill Julian and it's over with."

How am I supposed to do this?

I took the offered weapon. The obvious answer was to kill Wendy. Castle's right, my primary objective is to get the support team out.

She was watching Castle, red-faced. Angry.

"Let's get on with it then." The Raider stepped beside Buck and drew her own handgun. "10 seconds Wendy."

They're just prisoners. The only reason I'm fighting them is because Castle is forcing them to fight.

If I don't, Julian is going to die.

Time. I need some time.

"Wendy", I said, "don't. I can help you."

The woman's eyes turned from Castle to me. "How?"

Castle laughed. "Yes, Damon, how will you help her? She's only got seven seconds."

Dammit.

How would I help her?

"I'm here to get my people out. The more of us there are, the easier it will be."

"Five."

Wendy frowned. "That doesn't keep us alive now."

Goddammit, I know that.

"Four."

How do I-

The injured woman raised the staff and aimed it at Julian.

Oh shit. I turned and grabbed the teenager. I dove away from the makeshift weapon, pulling Julian with me and-

It went off.

The blast slammed into us and threatened to send me toppling down on Julian. My shields burst into existence again as I angled to the left. Shrapnel pinged off of the barrier. Even with it being an improvised weapon, it was powerful enough to drop my shields' energy by almost half.

Julian shouted as we landed on the concrete hard enough to jar my left shoulder.

What the hell was that? Why had-

Castle was going to kill Buck. She didn't have a choice.

Even if I knew that, I could stop my frustration from peaking.

I jumped to my feet. "What the fuck?!"

Wendy was still standing where she'd been, now smoking staff still aimed at me.

She sighed. "Guess we never did have a chance, did we, Buck?"

The large man took a long, deep breath. "No."

Wendy dropped the weapon.

"Well, well", Castle said, "you didn't break the rules… but no one's dead. Hey Ben", she pointed at a spot to my right. "Grab that one and give it to her." The guard started toward another of the discarded weapons and Castle turned to me. "No body shield this time."

"This is-" I stopped myself and took a calming breath. "Wendy. Work with me."

How do I end this?

"How?" she asked. No… it almost sounded… pleading.

"I-" how was I supposed to do this? If I attack the Raiders, everyone dies. If I don't kill Wendy, Julian dies. If Wendy doesn't shoot at Julian, Buck dies. The logical option for each of us is to shoot the other.

But then we'd be giving Castle what she wants.

Is there another way?

Ben stepped beside Wendy and jammed another one of the weapons into her chest.

Castle brandished her sidearm. "10 seconds."

I glanced at Julian. He was still on the ground next to me.

"Nope", Castle said. "You stay right there."

There's 10 seconds to figure something out. That's an eternity.

Everything seemed to freeze and race by at the same time. Wendy's hard swallow. Buck staring at the handgun in Castle's grip. Julian's dinner plate-sized eyes. Ben, still smiling.

Eight.

Fighting my way out isn't an option. Everyone dies if I do that. What would have been the point of all this?

"I'd like to leave alive, if you have any ideas", Wendy said.

"Yes, yes, the Minutemen's hero. He has to know what to do, right? The paragon of the Commonwealth. HA!" Castle threw her head back and laughed. "We both know that's a lie, Damon. Five seconds."

What else can I do? If fighting isn't an option, and she definitely wouldn't let me add them to the group. If I can't-

Wendy's eyes went wide and I watched as she mouthed "Minutemen".

"You're that guy?" Something changed, like a switch flipped. The fear vanished, her shoulders relaxed, and a strange peace came over her face. I'd seen that before.

Where?

The woman turned to Buck. "There are some bets you lose."

His eyes went wide. His mouth began opening-

Wendy raised her weapon.

I reacted.

The handgun barked, its pistol grip kicking against my palm as the muzzle tried to climb.

At the five meters between us, it would have taken a miracle for me to miss. This handgun might not be the M6s I've trained with since I was five but, at a point, a pistol is a pistol.

So I did what I was trained to do. I leveled the sights, lined up the posts, and squeezed the trigger. It's something I've done thousands of times. Maybe tens of thousands of times. It was as much part of me as breathing. Natural.

Easy.

No spectacular explosion of skull and brain, pistol bullets don't travel fast enough for that. The 10mm projectile hit Wendy in the bridge of her nose and punched out the back of her head an instant later. A spray of blood chased the bullet, traveling so slow it was almost frozen in time.

The casing was ejected from the gun as the slide cycled. Its brass gleamed in the light as it spun off to the right, trailing wisps of smoke. Even though my helmet filtered air before I breathed it, I could smell the burnt gunpowder, acrid and hot. It was something I'm intimately familiar with. Something I've lived with for the last 15 years.

Wendy's steely blue eyes weren't looking at Julian, her supposed target.

They were locked on me.

Unlike so many others I've killed, they weren't wide with fear or anger or fury. They were calm. Resigned.

…

Why couldn't there have been fear?

The report barely had time to fade before she collapsed to the concrete like someone turned off the power to her legs.

"DON'T!" Buck screamed.

But it was too late.

Wendy's body hit the ground.

She was gone.

A/N: So... kind of a half cliffhanger there. I debated whether to end the chapter like this but eventually decided to go with it. I think the ending works considering what happened during this chapter and the... budding issues Damon is dealing with. Well, "budding" probably isn't the right word for it since they're things that have been ongoing in the story since chapter 9 when we first learned about his past (and he first remembered it). Man... it feels like so long ago that I wrote that scene. But that's enough rambling for this episode of "Wild Adventures in a Strange World". I'll see everyone next time!

Next Chapter: 3/8, Playing the Game