Max had called in his BOS commanders and a few of the irregulars. Behind Arco stretched a map, an old and worn our roadmap from the days before the great cataclysm. In front to the map was a table with his records and notes.
Killing deathclaws was enjoyable but distracting. But the Major had other concerns. There was a mission that needed to be done. There was a destiny yet to be made.
Somewhere, out there, to the South, an army of mutants was forming and the longer they delayed the stronger the mutants became.
"Arco!" Commanded Major Max. "What's the status on our field hospital. We've got wounded men slowing us down."
"We got a field hospital up that's taking care of our wounded." Replied Arco.
"We need to start pooling supplies. Damn it. We're on our own out here and need to live off the land and those ugly mutant fuckers didn't leave us much. So we need to salvage."
Arco nodded, watching his commander. Max was visibly impatient and Arco knew why. This was a delay.
"We've spent too much ordinance on these deathclaws, Arco. And we're not replacing our shells. Ammo, food, medical supplies. We're short on everything. And army moves on it's belly but it needs bullets to shoot and we got shit for both."
Arco and the others nodded.
"We have wounded that need to be cared for and some of our new recruits need to training. But we can't wait." Max pointed to a number of locations on a map.
The first was a long tongue like stretch of land that stretched from the continent south. "Down along this coast stretches a peninsula called Baja. It's hot, desert and generally lifeless. But there were a number of human populations. It's possible that the mutants have avoided that area, but it's also possible that they might have sent down a column in that direction."
Then Max pointed to another area to the East, where he had drawn a large red circle. "To the east are the radiation storms and the glowing desert. Only radiated mutant freaks, ghouls? No, out there somewhere are military bases, stockpiles of reserves and weapons. Ammo, armor, medical supplies. But it's bad desert and the Mutie fuckers probably have the same idea we do. Find a base, secure the weapons. Since the Hub they've been hurting for resupply to. Good chance the supply is out there somewhere."
Lynne raised a hand. Max nodded to let her speak.
"Do we have a precise location, sir?" She asked.
Max shook his head. "During the war, the place got nailed like a cheap ghoul whore in an all-night drinking hole, so that all you might find is the tattered remains of something that might have been human. We have no idea what bases are intact, which survived the war, and which are safe to enter. Anyone going out there better take rad medication and a geiger counter, or you'll go bald and have your skin come off."
The others nodded, listening.
"Finally," Said Max, pointing towards the Southeast, "This is where our last scouts said the main mutants are heading. Into old Mexico. Rumor is that Mexico didn't get nuked too hard because their ain't nothin' worth value down there. I don't know about that. But if the Muties are looking for more humans to dip, than they might be heading down there. The main body of our forces needs to know, one way or the other, where those mutants are."
Max walked away from the map. "As you know, our last bunch of scouts got zapped. We need replacements. We need people willing to take life by the balls and squeeze but realize that you might get your head kicked in for the squeezing. We can't spare many men. Just a few. Meanwhile, fresh recruits can be sent here, which, for the time being will be a rear base while we continue to go south and east. But I need volunteers for recon. And it won't be easy."
Max walked around and rested himself on the metal table, that noticeable shook under the weight of the power armor. Max's voice calmed down.
"I am not going to kid you. The odds are against us. But the odds are always against the BOS. We improvise, adapt and overcome. At the Hub we had the advantage of defense. Now we're in their turf. We've caught a few of their stragglers, but not the main body. We're weaker than they are, and they have us by the numbers. We need to play to our advantages and not to theirs."
"If it comes down to a flat out battle, the muties will destroy us. But if we hit hard and fast, if we use the night and our speed, if we out smart them and out manuever them, we can hit them where it hurts. We need to destroy their vats, and we need to slow down the dipping. Remember our business is saving lives." Said Max. "We need scouts, a few men with balls of steel. The rest of the group will continue South."
Max finished and looked at those at the meeting in the eye.
"Volunteers? Questions?"
