White Knight
Water Chip? Been There, Done That
Good story. How long is this before Fallout 3? I can't wait for the next bit. Is the steel plague a nickname for the BoS or are you following the non-canon fallout ending with a few changes.
New California Dreaming - A Fallout Fic
- Thread starter Hotpoint
- Start date
Water Chip? Been There, Done That
White Knight said:
Just under two months before as at chapter 10
White Knight said:
It's just a nickname I thought appropriate to be used by the NCR.
SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!
Thanks to Fallout: New Vegas I've revised chapters 1-10 of the story in preparation for chapter 11 which is coming soon. There are a few other tweaks to the dialogue too and a general tidy-up of the story.
I still regard the version on TtH (linked below in my signature) as the best place to read this fic but I'll be updating here too.
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Please do! It is very good!
The story continues...
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XI
Grayditch, Washington – Columbia Commonweath – June 2277
From what they were told the majority of the population of Grayditch had begun leaving shortly after the Fire Ants started showing up, not that it had exactly been a teeming metropolis to start with. Other than the two families the only other person in the community seemed to keep himself to himself and he only emerged from the shack he had been hiding from the ants in to offer a half-hearted thanks to Coyle and to request any nectar from the ant bodies Fred Wilks and William Brandice were butchering for his “research”.
While Sheila Brandice did her best to convert ant meat into something at least mildly palatable Coyle dragged a couple of chairs outside into the street from the vacated property next to the Brandice home. He and Allison had been offered as overnight accommodation and using the remaining daylight to good purpose as they sat on the chairs he set his guide the job of digging the buckshot out of his hand while the raider that put it there found herself tied to the closest telegraph pole.
‘Keep still’ Allison told Coyle sharply as she tried to use the tweezers from his First Aid Kit to extract the lead shot.
‘This really hurts you know’ Coyle replied through clenched teeth, trying to squirm as she dug into his flesh.
‘Got it’ Allison said with satisfaction, pulling out the tweezers with a piece of bloody buckshot held in them. ‘Next one’ she said all-too-brightly as she flicked it away and started on the next hole in Coyle’s left hand which likely harboured another piece.
‘Goddammit’ Coyle hissed as the tweezers went in again.
‘You big baby’ Allison chided, concentrating on her task.
‘I don’t feel good’ Dreamer spoke up, voice trembling. She was sat on the ground, leaning back against the wooden pole and when Coyle looked over she was obviously sweating profusely and shaking.
‘You don’t really expect any sympathy do you?’ Coyle asked rhetorically, glaring at her.
‘I need Jet’ Dreamer begged.
Coyle snorted with derision. ‘I wouldn’t give you any even if it wasn’t you that shot this crap into my...’ Coyle began then went deathly white, eyes widening. ‘Please finish quickly’ he gasped once the sudden extra surge of pain in his hand dropped to the point where he could articulate speech.
‘There you go, last piece’ Allison told him happily, showing him the buckshot she had just hooked out. ‘I’ll just sterilise it and bandage you up again’ she added, reaching for the small bottle of one-hundred-and-sixty proof whiskey Coyle carried for “medicinal purposes”.
‘Spirits of the Ancestors give me strength’ Coyle muttered as she unscrewed the cap and prepared to pour some on the wounded hand. It would likely kill plenty of bacteria off which was a good thing but it would also sting like an absolute... ‘SON-OF-A-BITCH’ Coyle exclaimed as the whiskey hit his bloody hand, helping wash it clean as he forced himself not to pull it away.
‘I think they’ll close up okay’ Allison said professionally, inspecting her handiwork. ‘When I was about ten I once had to do this for my brother when he took some buckshot in the ass out hunting’ she said. ‘He didn’t make such a fuss, though he was drunk I guess’ she continued. ‘Pa was drunk too, it was him that accidentally put the buckshot in there’ she recalled, laughing.
‘Well I’m not drunk and there’s a hell of a lot more nerve-endings in a human hand than a human’s ass’ Coyle replied with a snarl.
‘You don’t have to sit on your hand though’ Allison pointed out.
Coyle thought about that. ‘Okay, I can see that smarting a little for a while after’ he conceded.
‘I think I’m gonna throw up’ Dreamer moaned.
‘Well at least I get the karmic satisfaction of watching you go cold-turkey’ Coyle responded, managing to force a smirk at the raider while Allison bandaged up his hand.
Dreamer felt like her skin was covered with crawling insects, which it wasn’t because she had only recently bathed by her standards. ‘Please, I’ll do anything’ she begged. ‘You’ve got all the Jet you took from me and the others’ she reminded them, ‘just give me one and...’
‘Winners don’t take drugs, only whiners do’ the boy Bryan Wilks interrupted. ‘That’s what my dad says’ he continued as he walked over to join them. ‘Mrs Brandice said to come fetch you all for supper’ he told them. ‘We’ve laid out a big table for everyone in one of the empty houses and she’s put some in a bowl for the raider there too’ he added.
‘I think if you gave her a bowl of food right now you’d have to give her a bucket to put it back into a couple of minutes later as well’ Coyle replied. ‘She might be able to keep down some water, she needs to when she’s sweating so much off.’
Bryan looked down at Dreamer, she looked sicker than people he’d seen that were dying of radiation poisoning. ‘If drugs do that to people why do they take them?’ he asked.
‘Because as long as you don’t stop they make you feel great’ Coyle replied. ‘Of course they’ll also take years off your life and turn you into a... freaking psychotic’ he added, moderating his language because of the kids age.
‘If you won’t give me any Jet just shoot me’ Dreamer requested. She hadn’t had a hit since early that morning and after nearly two years of dependency that was far too long.
‘You’re not getting off that easily after this’ Coyle responded holding up his bandaged hand.
‘Can’t we give her something to make it easier?’ Allison asked, looking at the raider girl with pity.
‘Well I haven’t got any of the antidote to Jet addiction with me and based on the question I guess you don’t either’ Coyle replied.
‘There’s an antidote?’ Allison and Dreamer said almost simultaneously.
Coyle sighed. ‘Figures that the damn drug would manage to get all the way here from the West Coast but the cure wouldn’t’ he observed sadly. ‘We’ll tie her up where we can still see her and then eat’ he told Allison.
‘GIVE ME SOME JET YOU PRICK!’ Dreamer shouted at Coyle, the boy nearly jumping out of his skin as she did so.
‘We’ll gag her too’ Coyle decided thoughtfully.
After they ate, conversing with the local families about what they knew about the rest of the city during the meal, Coyle decided he could probably benefit from an early night and hauling Dreamer along with him he secured her still securely bound and gagged in one corner of the upstairs bedroom of the abandoned house. After injecting a stimpak into his wounded hand to speed up the healing process overnight he slumped onto the bed, only bothering to remove his boots and body armour before going to sleep.
Allison remained talking to Fred Wilks and William Brandice until quite late, trying to learn as much as she could about the area figuring that’s what a good professional guide would but eventually approaching midnight she realised from the increasingly unsubtle yawning they wanted to get some sleep themselves.
Using a small light-bulb fixed to an old fission battery as a lamp Allison left the Wilks place where she had ended up and went to join Coyle, wondering if Dreamer had managed to fall asleep herself or was she still climbing the walls (as much as you could if tied up) due to Jet withdrawal.
Dreamer was not in fact asleep but had stopped shaking leading Allison to reason that the cause for the raider-girl still being awake was neither addiction nor insomnia but was probably most likely due to the fact that Coyle was snoring loud enough to scare off a deathclaw.
The dim light given off by the bulb wasn’t enough to wake Coyle but it was enough for Allison to first take off her boots then find the water canteen from Coyle’s rucksack and carefully tip-toe her way to Dreamer. Gesturing with a finger over her own lips for Dreamer to stay quiet Allison gently removed her cloth gag. ‘Sorry but I can’t untie you completely because you might kill us in our sleep’ she whispered to the raider before giving her a drink. ‘If you promise not to make any noise I’ll leave the gag off though’ she added.
The raider kept silent, the gag had hurt and if she felt nauseous again she really didn’t want to throw up while wearing the thing. Allison turned off the lamp but there was still enough moonlight coming through the window for Dreamer to watch as the other girl took off her boots and wondering how the hell anyone could get used to snoring like that she theorised that Allison must be partially deaf or something to stay with the bastard. Instead to her amazement when the guide got into bed next to Coyle she just gently rolled him on his side whereupon the snoring stopped immediately and propping him up Allison drifted off to sleep followed shortly after by Dreamer herself.
Coyle and Allison woke up early, albeit not by choice when Dreamer being unable to hold it any more cried out that she really needed to use the toilet. Fortunately she was used to a lack of privacy thanks to her raider lifestyle because Coyle insisted on having Allison there pointing a gun at her the whole time she was untied, something Dreamer accepted with little complaint because the other alternative was him doing it instead and that would have been a little too humiliating.
‘Heading out already?’ Fred Wilks asked Coyle and Allison as when he woke himself and checked on them he found them packing up.
‘Got a few places to visit on the way to Rivet City now you’ve helped explain the lie of the land around here’ Coyle replied.
‘Watch out for super-mutants’ Wilks advised. ‘The traders coming through say the things are pushing nearer to that old rust-bucket every day’ he continued, ‘there’s less of them on this side of the river because of the Brotherhood being holed up in the Pentagon but wander about over there a while and you’ll eventually have a big yellow bastard trying to gnaw on your bones.’
Coyle grinned, soopies weren’t ogres that ate people, that was a wasteland myth like ghoul’s being zombies. They were big, and some of them were dumb and aggressive, but they weren’t monsters any more than people were. ‘I’ll keep that in mind’ he replied.
‘Three Dog on the radio says that most of the heavy fighting is in the Mall’ Wilks reminded him in case the stranger had forgotten their talk last night. ‘You really don’t want to get stuck between the Brotherhood and the Super Mutants when they’re firing rockets and miniguns around’ he advised.
‘Damn, and there I was planning to hit all the tourist spots’ Coyle replied. ‘Still maybe I could pick up a souvenir tee-shirt with a hole in it’ he suggested. ‘I went to Washington DC and all I got was this lousy bullet-wound.’
Wilks laughed. ‘Seriously though friend, if you want to keep your woman out of harm’s way play it smart and skirt the centre of town’ he said.
‘She’s not my woman she’s just my guide’ Coyle replied.
‘If you say so’ Wilks replied, smiling, he knew that Sheila Brandice hadn’t bought that line yesterday after listening to them bicker over dinner. Despite still being incensed about the incident with the Fire Ants the girl’s obviously had the idea she could cure him of his less attractive personality traits and if a woman wanted to change you to make it more acceptable to have you around that likely meant she wanted to extend the period you would be around. Moreover if you took it that meant deep down you didn’t object to the idea too much either.
‘Cassidy I don’t think that we’ll get far if we make Dreamer carry your rucksack’ Allison called out.
‘Not unless you want to give me some Jet’ the raider said quickly, it was worth a try at least.
‘I’ll carry it for now’ Coyle replied turning around to look at the Raider carefully. ‘You’re right, she looks like shit’ he agreed. ‘But if she slows us down I’ll find a way to get her moving that doesn’t involve drugs but might involve a combat knife.’
‘What are you going to do with her?’ Wilks asked curiously.
‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it’ Coyle responded. ‘Actually that’s an idea’ he continued, ‘I could throw her off the bridge when we cross the river’ he said brightly, putting his sunglasses on as the sun rose high into the sky to warrant them.
‘Don’t worry he’s joking’ Allison told Dreamer. ‘I think’ she added in a less encouraging fashion as she secured the other end of Dreamer’s rope tether to herself.
Leaving Grayditch after making their goodbyes, Allison remarked to Coyle that she thought William and Sheila Brandice had an accent a little like his, or at least a trace of it. Coyle himself hadn’t noticed, to him they sounded more like her Virginia accent, if maybe a little milder which he put down to them being city dwellers whereas she was a redneck. However when Dreamer chipped in that she thought so too Coyle began to wonder if Brandice was a former member of the Brotherhood, or even maybe a deserter, because now he came to think about it more the man did have a degree of military bearing about him too.
Heading back towards the Potomac, intending to follow it down to where he could find a good vantage-point to observe the assholes who had taken over the Pentagon for a while Coyle could hear the sound of distant explosions and hoped that it was the Steel Plague getting put through the wringer. The NCR Military knew from the scrappy intel they had obtained from captured BoS installations that the enemy had sent a second expedition across the country over twenty years ago, the group heading even further East than their first had done chasing down the fleeing Super-Mutant Army half a century before that, but they knew little else and that worried them. Back in California the Brotherhood was unquestionably losing the war, albeit an NCR victory being paid for heavily in blood, but the emergence of the Enclave had proven there was still likely plenty of advanced military hardware out there to be found and if the Steel Plague could lay their armoured hands on enough force-multipliers they might still be able to turn the tide.
The Enclave themselves were a wild card in this, Coyle thought to himself as they reached the river and headed Arlington way. Their main base, the Poseidon Energy Oil Rig had been blown up a couple of years before Coyle was born, and the NCR had shortly afterwards captured Navarro their airbase north of San Francisco getting hold of a few Vertibirds and other high-tech weapons the NCR later found good use for in their war with the Brotherhood, but although they weren’t likely the power they had once been any Enclave remnants were still likely the best equipped force in the wasteland. Their Advanced Power Armour made the gear the Steel Plague used look primitive by comparison, not to mention the Laser and Plasma weapons they routinely packed, so tangling with them was really not a good idea, unless you happened to be armed with a gauss-rifle of course Coyle thought with satisfaction. For the humble regular infantryman the M72, or even the cheap Chinese knock-off version, was a great leveller against troops wearing Powered Armour.
‘We’re heading into turf that belongs to Split Jack’ Dreamer said suddenly, and with obvious concern.
‘Let me guess, he’s some raider boss whose gang doesn’t like your gang?’ Coyle replied.
‘Kinda’ Allison replied, ‘it’s more like he takes taxes off the people round here...’
‘And in return he keeps people like you out’ Coyle finished for her. ‘Well running a protection racket is a little more civilised than your regular raider MO I suppose’ he decided.
‘MO?’ Allison queried.
‘Modus operandi, it means way of doing things’ Coyle explained. ‘It’s Latin.’
‘I bet you only use it to try and sound book-smart’ Allison responded. ‘What’s wrong with just speaking plain English anyway?’ she wanted to know.
‘I dare you to go to New Mexico and ask someone from the Legion that’ Coyle replied, laughing. ‘They’d nail you to a cross.’
Dreamer decided they weren’t taking this situation seriously enough. ‘If we run into Split Jack he’ll probably want a few caps for safe passage’ she said. ‘At least he will from you, he’ll kill me.’
‘Even if you’re not with your gang?’ Allison asked.
‘Last time my crew tangled with his he kinda... caught some of my buckshot in the face’ Dreamer replied, saying the part about the buckshot very fast. ‘Cost him an eye.’
Coyle couldn’t help but glance at his bandaged left hand for a moment. ‘Assuming that I don’t kill you, and he doesn’t, in future you might want to consider using a weapon that reduces the number of your mortal enemies it doesn’t increase it’ he advised.
‘I can’t hit anything at all unless I’m using a shotgun’ Dreamer replied before she stopped walking. ‘Listen, Split Jack will kill me slow so I’m not going any further’ she declared determinedly. ‘I already feel like shit so just go ahead and fucking shoot me’ she said, sitting down on the ground where she was.
Coyle looked down at the sullen raider and sighed. ‘Okay you win’ he said eventually.
‘We’re going to let her go or try another way?’ Allison asked him.
‘No, I’m going to fucking shoot her’ Coyle replied, pulling his MP9 SMG from its holster and switching the safety off.
‘You can’t!’ Allison exclaimed, jumping between them.
‘Well it’s not like you’ll do it’ Coyle replied evenly, trying to move around her.
‘It would be like murder’ Allison told him. ‘Cold blooded murder.’
‘I’m not letting her go and if she won’t come along my options are limited’ Coyle responded.
Allison’s mind kicked into high gear. ‘We could disguise her’ she suggested.
‘We could what?’ Coyle replied, dubiously.
‘If we get rid of the pigtails, put your sunglasses on her and make her wear that really horrible shirt of yours they might not recognise her if we run into this gang she’s worried about’ Allison told him.
‘I’m not giving her my Hawaiian Shirt’ Coyle replied indignantly.
‘You’d rather shoot her than let her borrow your shirt?’ Allison scolded him.
Coyle tried to think of a reply in the affirmative that wouldn’t make him sound like some kind of despicable psychopath so instead he lowered his MP9 and glared at Allison. ‘This is the dumbest idea I’ve heard in forever.’
‘But we can try it’ Allison said happily, turning around towards Dreamer. ‘Honestly, give me five minutes and your own mother wouldn’t recognise you’ she said optimistically.
‘My mother abandoned me when I was a baby’ Dreamer replied flatly, looking up at her.
Allison blinked. ‘Your father then’ she said.
‘Him too’ Dreamer responded.
‘She’s just trying to win sympathy’ Coyle commented sardonically. ‘We’ll be hearing tales of her tragic childhood raised by neglectful, poverty-stricken deathclaws next.’
‘Just give me the shirt’ Allison instructed him curtly. ‘It’s got to be worth a try isn’t it?’ she asked Dreamer, giving her a smile of encouragement.
The raider-girl thought about it. ‘I want you to promise to shoot me if Split Jack or his crew recognise me’ she said. She didn’t want to be likely passed around his men and then tortured to death for what she did to his depth-perception.
‘Great, so now I might get the shirt back with a hole in it and covered in bloodstains’ Coyle muttered as he holstered his MP9 and took off his rucksack.
Dreamer got back up. ‘You’ll have to take off that top’ Allison told her. ‘The shorts should be okay.’
‘You should have mentioned her stripping when you were trying to get me to agree to this charade’ Coyle remarked as he opened his rucksack and began rooting around in it for his shirt.
‘I’ll untie you so you can change’ Allison told Dreamer. ‘If you try and get away or do something stupid then I’ll let him shoot you.’
Coyle found the shirt, throwing it over his shoulder and resting his hand on his SMG again while she untied the raider. ‘If you looked less sickly I’d ask you to make a show of it’ he said as Dreamer started to take off her top.
‘Turn around Cassidy’ Allison told him.
‘Not a chance’ Coyle replied. ‘It’s not voyeurism, I just don’t trust her.’
Allison frowned. ‘Turn your back on him’ she told Dreamer.
‘Killjoy’ Coyle complained in annoyance.
With the shirt buttoned it hung too low so Dreamer tied it together, ending up exposing about the same amount of midriff as her previous outfit. With her pigtails conversely untied Allison produced a small comb from her belongings and did her best to alter the girls appearance hoping that the garish shirt, not to mention Dreamers cleavage which was also now more on show, would attract attention away from her face. ‘Sunglasses’ she requested of Coyle who took them off and handed them over.
‘If she loses or breaks them I’m buying a replacement pair out of your pay’ Coyle informed his guide as Dreamer put them on. ‘Well at least I can’t see your bloodshot, sunken eyes any more’ he told the raider. ‘Tie her up again’ he continued to Allison.
Allison frowned. ‘But she doesn’t look like a raider any more’ she replied. ‘We’ll look even more like slavers and nobody will believe us when we say she’s just a bandit we captured’ she pointed out. ‘How about she walks between us a few yards ahead of me’ she suggested instead. ‘If I’ve got my rifle ready with a round chambered ready to shoot her she won’t run.’
‘She’ll make a break for it first chance she gets’ Coyle responded with certainty. ‘She still needs a fix so bad she might take the risk of catching a bullet in the process.’
‘Oh, you’re right I hadn’t thought about that’ Allison replied. ‘I guess if we keep her on the rope with her hands tied we can always say we’re bringing her in for a reward or something’ she said, trying not to giggle as a funny line crossed her thoughts. ‘I mean wearing a shirt like that is bound to end up getting you wanted for crimes against humanity’ she said as deadpan as you could.
Coyle narrowed his eyes, he liked his garish party shirt even if nobody else did. ‘Just throw what she was wearing in the river and let’s get moving’ he said, his tone indicating he was less than amused as he fastened up his rucksack again and put it on.
‘Sorry, I didn’t hear that I couldn’t hear you over the shirt’ Allison replied.
‘Any more of that and I’m going to offer her your job and you’ll be the tied-up one being dragged to the Pentagon’ Coyle told her.
‘I’ll guide you for free if you give me some Jet’ Dreamer offered, trying to sound sincere. ‘I bet I know this town a lot better than her’ she continued. ‘And I’ll blow you too’ she added as an extra enticement.
Coyle adopted a thoughtful impression like he was considering it. ‘I don’t suppose you feel like matching her offer?’ he asked Allison.
‘No’ Allison replied flatly.
‘Didn’t seem likely but it was worth asking’ Coyle responded with a shrug. ‘Sorry but I’m still keeping the current arrangement’ he told Dreamer.
‘You don’t know what you’re missing’ Dreamer replied, running her tongue over her lips in a very unsubtle manner.
‘Oh for just a few less scruples and lower standards’ Coyle groaned.
They stopped for a late breakfast at a place on the river called Wilhelm’s Wharf where a woman calling herself Grandma Sparkle was making a living selling mirelurk based dishes including a surprisingly good stew. It seemed likely that being under the protection of Split Jack and his gang meant she could operate her business in a degree of safety despite her “boys” being off hunting for more mirelurks. Dealing with the criminal element had also apparently taught her to keep her mouth shut and not ask questions because she said nothing about the sickly looking girl on the leash, even though she was desperate to know if she was wearing the shirt as punishment or on a bet.
According to Grandma Sparkle Split Jack wasn’t due to collect his “taxes” until the next day (not that they were very high in her case, he liked her cooking), and she didn’t expect they would see him if they kept to the riverbank so hopefully it would be smooth sailing until the Pentagon. She did offer a warning about the Super Mutants becoming more active recently however and wished them the best of luck. She also asked that if they kept going south after passing the Brotherhood base, and found a ferry docked at the landing down there, could they tell Tobar the ferryman that if he bettered his price on his offer of supplying punga fruit by another ten percent he had a deal.
Grandma Sparkle had a radio and it had been playing the patriotic music broadcast by Enclave Radio interspersed with propaganda. One of the tunes Coyle knew very well and it stuck in his head enough for him to start humming it when they finished eating and set off again.
After a few hundred yards Coyle stopped humming it and began softly singing the words, or at least the words he knew for the song.
Old Prez Tandy lies a mouldering in the grave
While weep the slaves and freemen that she ventured all to save
But though Tandy breathes no more now
The Republic’s strong and brave
Her truth is marching on
Glory, Glory California
Glory, Glory California
Glory, Glory California
Her truth goes marching on
Brotherhood, Enclave, evil Super-Mutants he thought, fuck the lot of them! NCR marches on!
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Note from the Author:
Lesko, the scientist living in Grayditch was responsible for the Fire Ants plaguing that community (thanks to some ill-advised experimentation involving FEV) but Coyle and Allison aren't sticking around to investigate. They also miss discovering that William Brandice is a former Enclave Soldier which you can learn from hacking his computer.
Dreamer is suffering badly from Jet withdrawal. In Fallout 2 there was a cure developed for that addiction but it doesn't seem to have made it to Fallout 3 (unfortunate because it made using Jet safe).
With his family history Coyle quite reasonably hates the Enclave and the war with the Brotherhood means that as an NCR soldier he dislikes them intensely too (they have shot at him a lot) but he isn't quite as opposed to Super Mutants in general. The Super Mutants he's familiar with are typically much smarter (and saner) than the ones in the Capital Wasteland and quite a few have moved to the NCR and taken citizenship there over the years.
Split Jack is a bandit leader first encountered in the Broken Steel add-on to Fallout 3. He was hitting water caravans and planning to set up a protection racket for them with his gang meeting up at Wilhelm's Wharf (he liked Grandma Sparkles mirelurk stew). I've fleshed out his role a little, he seemed smarter than most raiders and if he was controlling that part of town it would explain how Grandma Sparkle could operate her business safely. It being Dreamer that was the cause of his eyepatch (like she was Coyle's bandaged hand) seemed like a decent idea.
Tobar, owner of the ferry "Duchess Gambit" comes from the add-on "Point Lookout". He was the importer of Punga Fruit from Maryland into the Capital Wasteland.
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XI
Grayditch, Washington – Columbia Commonweath – June 2277
From what they were told the majority of the population of Grayditch had begun leaving shortly after the Fire Ants started showing up, not that it had exactly been a teeming metropolis to start with. Other than the two families the only other person in the community seemed to keep himself to himself and he only emerged from the shack he had been hiding from the ants in to offer a half-hearted thanks to Coyle and to request any nectar from the ant bodies Fred Wilks and William Brandice were butchering for his “research”.
While Sheila Brandice did her best to convert ant meat into something at least mildly palatable Coyle dragged a couple of chairs outside into the street from the vacated property next to the Brandice home. He and Allison had been offered as overnight accommodation and using the remaining daylight to good purpose as they sat on the chairs he set his guide the job of digging the buckshot out of his hand while the raider that put it there found herself tied to the closest telegraph pole.
‘Keep still’ Allison told Coyle sharply as she tried to use the tweezers from his First Aid Kit to extract the lead shot.
‘This really hurts you know’ Coyle replied through clenched teeth, trying to squirm as she dug into his flesh.
‘Got it’ Allison said with satisfaction, pulling out the tweezers with a piece of bloody buckshot held in them. ‘Next one’ she said all-too-brightly as she flicked it away and started on the next hole in Coyle’s left hand which likely harboured another piece.
‘Goddammit’ Coyle hissed as the tweezers went in again.
‘You big baby’ Allison chided, concentrating on her task.
‘I don’t feel good’ Dreamer spoke up, voice trembling. She was sat on the ground, leaning back against the wooden pole and when Coyle looked over she was obviously sweating profusely and shaking.
‘You don’t really expect any sympathy do you?’ Coyle asked rhetorically, glaring at her.
‘I need Jet’ Dreamer begged.
Coyle snorted with derision. ‘I wouldn’t give you any even if it wasn’t you that shot this crap into my...’ Coyle began then went deathly white, eyes widening. ‘Please finish quickly’ he gasped once the sudden extra surge of pain in his hand dropped to the point where he could articulate speech.
‘There you go, last piece’ Allison told him happily, showing him the buckshot she had just hooked out. ‘I’ll just sterilise it and bandage you up again’ she added, reaching for the small bottle of one-hundred-and-sixty proof whiskey Coyle carried for “medicinal purposes”.
‘Spirits of the Ancestors give me strength’ Coyle muttered as she unscrewed the cap and prepared to pour some on the wounded hand. It would likely kill plenty of bacteria off which was a good thing but it would also sting like an absolute... ‘SON-OF-A-BITCH’ Coyle exclaimed as the whiskey hit his bloody hand, helping wash it clean as he forced himself not to pull it away.
‘I think they’ll close up okay’ Allison said professionally, inspecting her handiwork. ‘When I was about ten I once had to do this for my brother when he took some buckshot in the ass out hunting’ she said. ‘He didn’t make such a fuss, though he was drunk I guess’ she continued. ‘Pa was drunk too, it was him that accidentally put the buckshot in there’ she recalled, laughing.
‘Well I’m not drunk and there’s a hell of a lot more nerve-endings in a human hand than a human’s ass’ Coyle replied with a snarl.
‘You don’t have to sit on your hand though’ Allison pointed out.
Coyle thought about that. ‘Okay, I can see that smarting a little for a while after’ he conceded.
‘I think I’m gonna throw up’ Dreamer moaned.
‘Well at least I get the karmic satisfaction of watching you go cold-turkey’ Coyle responded, managing to force a smirk at the raider while Allison bandaged up his hand.
Dreamer felt like her skin was covered with crawling insects, which it wasn’t because she had only recently bathed by her standards. ‘Please, I’ll do anything’ she begged. ‘You’ve got all the Jet you took from me and the others’ she reminded them, ‘just give me one and...’
‘Winners don’t take drugs, only whiners do’ the boy Bryan Wilks interrupted. ‘That’s what my dad says’ he continued as he walked over to join them. ‘Mrs Brandice said to come fetch you all for supper’ he told them. ‘We’ve laid out a big table for everyone in one of the empty houses and she’s put some in a bowl for the raider there too’ he added.
‘I think if you gave her a bowl of food right now you’d have to give her a bucket to put it back into a couple of minutes later as well’ Coyle replied. ‘She might be able to keep down some water, she needs to when she’s sweating so much off.’
Bryan looked down at Dreamer, she looked sicker than people he’d seen that were dying of radiation poisoning. ‘If drugs do that to people why do they take them?’ he asked.
‘Because as long as you don’t stop they make you feel great’ Coyle replied. ‘Of course they’ll also take years off your life and turn you into a... freaking psychotic’ he added, moderating his language because of the kids age.
‘If you won’t give me any Jet just shoot me’ Dreamer requested. She hadn’t had a hit since early that morning and after nearly two years of dependency that was far too long.
‘You’re not getting off that easily after this’ Coyle responded holding up his bandaged hand.
‘Can’t we give her something to make it easier?’ Allison asked, looking at the raider girl with pity.
‘Well I haven’t got any of the antidote to Jet addiction with me and based on the question I guess you don’t either’ Coyle replied.
‘There’s an antidote?’ Allison and Dreamer said almost simultaneously.
Coyle sighed. ‘Figures that the damn drug would manage to get all the way here from the West Coast but the cure wouldn’t’ he observed sadly. ‘We’ll tie her up where we can still see her and then eat’ he told Allison.
‘GIVE ME SOME JET YOU PRICK!’ Dreamer shouted at Coyle, the boy nearly jumping out of his skin as she did so.
‘We’ll gag her too’ Coyle decided thoughtfully.
After they ate, conversing with the local families about what they knew about the rest of the city during the meal, Coyle decided he could probably benefit from an early night and hauling Dreamer along with him he secured her still securely bound and gagged in one corner of the upstairs bedroom of the abandoned house. After injecting a stimpak into his wounded hand to speed up the healing process overnight he slumped onto the bed, only bothering to remove his boots and body armour before going to sleep.
Allison remained talking to Fred Wilks and William Brandice until quite late, trying to learn as much as she could about the area figuring that’s what a good professional guide would but eventually approaching midnight she realised from the increasingly unsubtle yawning they wanted to get some sleep themselves.
Using a small light-bulb fixed to an old fission battery as a lamp Allison left the Wilks place where she had ended up and went to join Coyle, wondering if Dreamer had managed to fall asleep herself or was she still climbing the walls (as much as you could if tied up) due to Jet withdrawal.
Dreamer was not in fact asleep but had stopped shaking leading Allison to reason that the cause for the raider-girl still being awake was neither addiction nor insomnia but was probably most likely due to the fact that Coyle was snoring loud enough to scare off a deathclaw.
The dim light given off by the bulb wasn’t enough to wake Coyle but it was enough for Allison to first take off her boots then find the water canteen from Coyle’s rucksack and carefully tip-toe her way to Dreamer. Gesturing with a finger over her own lips for Dreamer to stay quiet Allison gently removed her cloth gag. ‘Sorry but I can’t untie you completely because you might kill us in our sleep’ she whispered to the raider before giving her a drink. ‘If you promise not to make any noise I’ll leave the gag off though’ she added.
The raider kept silent, the gag had hurt and if she felt nauseous again she really didn’t want to throw up while wearing the thing. Allison turned off the lamp but there was still enough moonlight coming through the window for Dreamer to watch as the other girl took off her boots and wondering how the hell anyone could get used to snoring like that she theorised that Allison must be partially deaf or something to stay with the bastard. Instead to her amazement when the guide got into bed next to Coyle she just gently rolled him on his side whereupon the snoring stopped immediately and propping him up Allison drifted off to sleep followed shortly after by Dreamer herself.
Coyle and Allison woke up early, albeit not by choice when Dreamer being unable to hold it any more cried out that she really needed to use the toilet. Fortunately she was used to a lack of privacy thanks to her raider lifestyle because Coyle insisted on having Allison there pointing a gun at her the whole time she was untied, something Dreamer accepted with little complaint because the other alternative was him doing it instead and that would have been a little too humiliating.
‘Heading out already?’ Fred Wilks asked Coyle and Allison as when he woke himself and checked on them he found them packing up.
‘Got a few places to visit on the way to Rivet City now you’ve helped explain the lie of the land around here’ Coyle replied.
‘Watch out for super-mutants’ Wilks advised. ‘The traders coming through say the things are pushing nearer to that old rust-bucket every day’ he continued, ‘there’s less of them on this side of the river because of the Brotherhood being holed up in the Pentagon but wander about over there a while and you’ll eventually have a big yellow bastard trying to gnaw on your bones.’
Coyle grinned, soopies weren’t ogres that ate people, that was a wasteland myth like ghoul’s being zombies. They were big, and some of them were dumb and aggressive, but they weren’t monsters any more than people were. ‘I’ll keep that in mind’ he replied.
‘Three Dog on the radio says that most of the heavy fighting is in the Mall’ Wilks reminded him in case the stranger had forgotten their talk last night. ‘You really don’t want to get stuck between the Brotherhood and the Super Mutants when they’re firing rockets and miniguns around’ he advised.
‘Damn, and there I was planning to hit all the tourist spots’ Coyle replied. ‘Still maybe I could pick up a souvenir tee-shirt with a hole in it’ he suggested. ‘I went to Washington DC and all I got was this lousy bullet-wound.’
Wilks laughed. ‘Seriously though friend, if you want to keep your woman out of harm’s way play it smart and skirt the centre of town’ he said.
‘She’s not my woman she’s just my guide’ Coyle replied.
‘If you say so’ Wilks replied, smiling, he knew that Sheila Brandice hadn’t bought that line yesterday after listening to them bicker over dinner. Despite still being incensed about the incident with the Fire Ants the girl’s obviously had the idea she could cure him of his less attractive personality traits and if a woman wanted to change you to make it more acceptable to have you around that likely meant she wanted to extend the period you would be around. Moreover if you took it that meant deep down you didn’t object to the idea too much either.
‘Cassidy I don’t think that we’ll get far if we make Dreamer carry your rucksack’ Allison called out.
‘Not unless you want to give me some Jet’ the raider said quickly, it was worth a try at least.
‘I’ll carry it for now’ Coyle replied turning around to look at the Raider carefully. ‘You’re right, she looks like shit’ he agreed. ‘But if she slows us down I’ll find a way to get her moving that doesn’t involve drugs but might involve a combat knife.’
‘What are you going to do with her?’ Wilks asked curiously.
‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it’ Coyle responded. ‘Actually that’s an idea’ he continued, ‘I could throw her off the bridge when we cross the river’ he said brightly, putting his sunglasses on as the sun rose high into the sky to warrant them.
‘Don’t worry he’s joking’ Allison told Dreamer. ‘I think’ she added in a less encouraging fashion as she secured the other end of Dreamer’s rope tether to herself.
Leaving Grayditch after making their goodbyes, Allison remarked to Coyle that she thought William and Sheila Brandice had an accent a little like his, or at least a trace of it. Coyle himself hadn’t noticed, to him they sounded more like her Virginia accent, if maybe a little milder which he put down to them being city dwellers whereas she was a redneck. However when Dreamer chipped in that she thought so too Coyle began to wonder if Brandice was a former member of the Brotherhood, or even maybe a deserter, because now he came to think about it more the man did have a degree of military bearing about him too.
Heading back towards the Potomac, intending to follow it down to where he could find a good vantage-point to observe the assholes who had taken over the Pentagon for a while Coyle could hear the sound of distant explosions and hoped that it was the Steel Plague getting put through the wringer. The NCR Military knew from the scrappy intel they had obtained from captured BoS installations that the enemy had sent a second expedition across the country over twenty years ago, the group heading even further East than their first had done chasing down the fleeing Super-Mutant Army half a century before that, but they knew little else and that worried them. Back in California the Brotherhood was unquestionably losing the war, albeit an NCR victory being paid for heavily in blood, but the emergence of the Enclave had proven there was still likely plenty of advanced military hardware out there to be found and if the Steel Plague could lay their armoured hands on enough force-multipliers they might still be able to turn the tide.
The Enclave themselves were a wild card in this, Coyle thought to himself as they reached the river and headed Arlington way. Their main base, the Poseidon Energy Oil Rig had been blown up a couple of years before Coyle was born, and the NCR had shortly afterwards captured Navarro their airbase north of San Francisco getting hold of a few Vertibirds and other high-tech weapons the NCR later found good use for in their war with the Brotherhood, but although they weren’t likely the power they had once been any Enclave remnants were still likely the best equipped force in the wasteland. Their Advanced Power Armour made the gear the Steel Plague used look primitive by comparison, not to mention the Laser and Plasma weapons they routinely packed, so tangling with them was really not a good idea, unless you happened to be armed with a gauss-rifle of course Coyle thought with satisfaction. For the humble regular infantryman the M72, or even the cheap Chinese knock-off version, was a great leveller against troops wearing Powered Armour.
‘We’re heading into turf that belongs to Split Jack’ Dreamer said suddenly, and with obvious concern.
‘Let me guess, he’s some raider boss whose gang doesn’t like your gang?’ Coyle replied.
‘Kinda’ Allison replied, ‘it’s more like he takes taxes off the people round here...’
‘And in return he keeps people like you out’ Coyle finished for her. ‘Well running a protection racket is a little more civilised than your regular raider MO I suppose’ he decided.
‘MO?’ Allison queried.
‘Modus operandi, it means way of doing things’ Coyle explained. ‘It’s Latin.’
‘I bet you only use it to try and sound book-smart’ Allison responded. ‘What’s wrong with just speaking plain English anyway?’ she wanted to know.
‘I dare you to go to New Mexico and ask someone from the Legion that’ Coyle replied, laughing. ‘They’d nail you to a cross.’
Dreamer decided they weren’t taking this situation seriously enough. ‘If we run into Split Jack he’ll probably want a few caps for safe passage’ she said. ‘At least he will from you, he’ll kill me.’
‘Even if you’re not with your gang?’ Allison asked.
‘Last time my crew tangled with his he kinda... caught some of my buckshot in the face’ Dreamer replied, saying the part about the buckshot very fast. ‘Cost him an eye.’
Coyle couldn’t help but glance at his bandaged left hand for a moment. ‘Assuming that I don’t kill you, and he doesn’t, in future you might want to consider using a weapon that reduces the number of your mortal enemies it doesn’t increase it’ he advised.
‘I can’t hit anything at all unless I’m using a shotgun’ Dreamer replied before she stopped walking. ‘Listen, Split Jack will kill me slow so I’m not going any further’ she declared determinedly. ‘I already feel like shit so just go ahead and fucking shoot me’ she said, sitting down on the ground where she was.
Coyle looked down at the sullen raider and sighed. ‘Okay you win’ he said eventually.
‘We’re going to let her go or try another way?’ Allison asked him.
‘No, I’m going to fucking shoot her’ Coyle replied, pulling his MP9 SMG from its holster and switching the safety off.
‘You can’t!’ Allison exclaimed, jumping between them.
‘Well it’s not like you’ll do it’ Coyle replied evenly, trying to move around her.
‘It would be like murder’ Allison told him. ‘Cold blooded murder.’
‘I’m not letting her go and if she won’t come along my options are limited’ Coyle responded.
Allison’s mind kicked into high gear. ‘We could disguise her’ she suggested.
‘We could what?’ Coyle replied, dubiously.
‘If we get rid of the pigtails, put your sunglasses on her and make her wear that really horrible shirt of yours they might not recognise her if we run into this gang she’s worried about’ Allison told him.
‘I’m not giving her my Hawaiian Shirt’ Coyle replied indignantly.
‘You’d rather shoot her than let her borrow your shirt?’ Allison scolded him.
Coyle tried to think of a reply in the affirmative that wouldn’t make him sound like some kind of despicable psychopath so instead he lowered his MP9 and glared at Allison. ‘This is the dumbest idea I’ve heard in forever.’
‘But we can try it’ Allison said happily, turning around towards Dreamer. ‘Honestly, give me five minutes and your own mother wouldn’t recognise you’ she said optimistically.
‘My mother abandoned me when I was a baby’ Dreamer replied flatly, looking up at her.
Allison blinked. ‘Your father then’ she said.
‘Him too’ Dreamer responded.
‘She’s just trying to win sympathy’ Coyle commented sardonically. ‘We’ll be hearing tales of her tragic childhood raised by neglectful, poverty-stricken deathclaws next.’
‘Just give me the shirt’ Allison instructed him curtly. ‘It’s got to be worth a try isn’t it?’ she asked Dreamer, giving her a smile of encouragement.
The raider-girl thought about it. ‘I want you to promise to shoot me if Split Jack or his crew recognise me’ she said. She didn’t want to be likely passed around his men and then tortured to death for what she did to his depth-perception.
‘Great, so now I might get the shirt back with a hole in it and covered in bloodstains’ Coyle muttered as he holstered his MP9 and took off his rucksack.
Dreamer got back up. ‘You’ll have to take off that top’ Allison told her. ‘The shorts should be okay.’
‘You should have mentioned her stripping when you were trying to get me to agree to this charade’ Coyle remarked as he opened his rucksack and began rooting around in it for his shirt.
‘I’ll untie you so you can change’ Allison told Dreamer. ‘If you try and get away or do something stupid then I’ll let him shoot you.’
Coyle found the shirt, throwing it over his shoulder and resting his hand on his SMG again while she untied the raider. ‘If you looked less sickly I’d ask you to make a show of it’ he said as Dreamer started to take off her top.
‘Turn around Cassidy’ Allison told him.
‘Not a chance’ Coyle replied. ‘It’s not voyeurism, I just don’t trust her.’
Allison frowned. ‘Turn your back on him’ she told Dreamer.
‘Killjoy’ Coyle complained in annoyance.
With the shirt buttoned it hung too low so Dreamer tied it together, ending up exposing about the same amount of midriff as her previous outfit. With her pigtails conversely untied Allison produced a small comb from her belongings and did her best to alter the girls appearance hoping that the garish shirt, not to mention Dreamers cleavage which was also now more on show, would attract attention away from her face. ‘Sunglasses’ she requested of Coyle who took them off and handed them over.
‘If she loses or breaks them I’m buying a replacement pair out of your pay’ Coyle informed his guide as Dreamer put them on. ‘Well at least I can’t see your bloodshot, sunken eyes any more’ he told the raider. ‘Tie her up again’ he continued to Allison.
Allison frowned. ‘But she doesn’t look like a raider any more’ she replied. ‘We’ll look even more like slavers and nobody will believe us when we say she’s just a bandit we captured’ she pointed out. ‘How about she walks between us a few yards ahead of me’ she suggested instead. ‘If I’ve got my rifle ready with a round chambered ready to shoot her she won’t run.’
‘She’ll make a break for it first chance she gets’ Coyle responded with certainty. ‘She still needs a fix so bad she might take the risk of catching a bullet in the process.’
‘Oh, you’re right I hadn’t thought about that’ Allison replied. ‘I guess if we keep her on the rope with her hands tied we can always say we’re bringing her in for a reward or something’ she said, trying not to giggle as a funny line crossed her thoughts. ‘I mean wearing a shirt like that is bound to end up getting you wanted for crimes against humanity’ she said as deadpan as you could.
Coyle narrowed his eyes, he liked his garish party shirt even if nobody else did. ‘Just throw what she was wearing in the river and let’s get moving’ he said, his tone indicating he was less than amused as he fastened up his rucksack again and put it on.
‘Sorry, I didn’t hear that I couldn’t hear you over the shirt’ Allison replied.
‘Any more of that and I’m going to offer her your job and you’ll be the tied-up one being dragged to the Pentagon’ Coyle told her.
‘I’ll guide you for free if you give me some Jet’ Dreamer offered, trying to sound sincere. ‘I bet I know this town a lot better than her’ she continued. ‘And I’ll blow you too’ she added as an extra enticement.
Coyle adopted a thoughtful impression like he was considering it. ‘I don’t suppose you feel like matching her offer?’ he asked Allison.
‘No’ Allison replied flatly.
‘Didn’t seem likely but it was worth asking’ Coyle responded with a shrug. ‘Sorry but I’m still keeping the current arrangement’ he told Dreamer.
‘You don’t know what you’re missing’ Dreamer replied, running her tongue over her lips in a very unsubtle manner.
‘Oh for just a few less scruples and lower standards’ Coyle groaned.
They stopped for a late breakfast at a place on the river called Wilhelm’s Wharf where a woman calling herself Grandma Sparkle was making a living selling mirelurk based dishes including a surprisingly good stew. It seemed likely that being under the protection of Split Jack and his gang meant she could operate her business in a degree of safety despite her “boys” being off hunting for more mirelurks. Dealing with the criminal element had also apparently taught her to keep her mouth shut and not ask questions because she said nothing about the sickly looking girl on the leash, even though she was desperate to know if she was wearing the shirt as punishment or on a bet.
According to Grandma Sparkle Split Jack wasn’t due to collect his “taxes” until the next day (not that they were very high in her case, he liked her cooking), and she didn’t expect they would see him if they kept to the riverbank so hopefully it would be smooth sailing until the Pentagon. She did offer a warning about the Super Mutants becoming more active recently however and wished them the best of luck. She also asked that if they kept going south after passing the Brotherhood base, and found a ferry docked at the landing down there, could they tell Tobar the ferryman that if he bettered his price on his offer of supplying punga fruit by another ten percent he had a deal.
Grandma Sparkle had a radio and it had been playing the patriotic music broadcast by Enclave Radio interspersed with propaganda. One of the tunes Coyle knew very well and it stuck in his head enough for him to start humming it when they finished eating and set off again.
After a few hundred yards Coyle stopped humming it and began softly singing the words, or at least the words he knew for the song.
Old Prez Tandy lies a mouldering in the grave
While weep the slaves and freemen that she ventured all to save
But though Tandy breathes no more now
The Republic’s strong and brave
Her truth is marching on
Glory, Glory California
Glory, Glory California
Glory, Glory California
Her truth goes marching on
Brotherhood, Enclave, evil Super-Mutants he thought, fuck the lot of them! NCR marches on!
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Note from the Author:
Lesko, the scientist living in Grayditch was responsible for the Fire Ants plaguing that community (thanks to some ill-advised experimentation involving FEV) but Coyle and Allison aren't sticking around to investigate. They also miss discovering that William Brandice is a former Enclave Soldier which you can learn from hacking his computer.
Dreamer is suffering badly from Jet withdrawal. In Fallout 2 there was a cure developed for that addiction but it doesn't seem to have made it to Fallout 3 (unfortunate because it made using Jet safe).
With his family history Coyle quite reasonably hates the Enclave and the war with the Brotherhood means that as an NCR soldier he dislikes them intensely too (they have shot at him a lot) but he isn't quite as opposed to Super Mutants in general. The Super Mutants he's familiar with are typically much smarter (and saner) than the ones in the Capital Wasteland and quite a few have moved to the NCR and taken citizenship there over the years.
Split Jack is a bandit leader first encountered in the Broken Steel add-on to Fallout 3. He was hitting water caravans and planning to set up a protection racket for them with his gang meeting up at Wilhelm's Wharf (he liked Grandma Sparkles mirelurk stew). I've fleshed out his role a little, he seemed smarter than most raiders and if he was controlling that part of town it would explain how Grandma Sparkle could operate her business safely. It being Dreamer that was the cause of his eyepatch (like she was Coyle's bandaged hand) seemed like a decent idea.
Tobar, owner of the ferry "Duchess Gambit" comes from the add-on "Point Lookout". He was the importer of Punga Fruit from Maryland into the Capital Wasteland.
The story continues...
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XII
Arlington – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
‘In case you were thinking of going across to see what’s over there I heard that somebody mined the bridge’ Dreamer warned as they reached the crossing point to Theodore Roosevelt Island where the Anchorage War Memorial had been erected two centuries earlier, being finished shortly before the conflict went nuclear.
Coyle was still looking across to the island which lay in the middle of the Potomac. ‘Surprised you’d warn us’ he replied.
‘I might have caught some of the shrapnel when you stepped on a mine’ Dreamer told him honestly. ‘This shirt isn’t exactly a flak jacket’ she noted, wishing that her “disguise” would repel something more substantial than peoples gaze.
‘Spoken like a true raider sociopath’ Coyle responded, turning towards her, smiling. ‘You still look like shit by the way.’
‘Bite me’ Dreamer retorted. She was starting to suspect he wasn’t the type who would hit her for just mouthing off and in any case she still felt so bad from Jet withdrawal she didn’t much care if he did.
‘Not even a starving cannibal would want to take a bite of something that looked as sick as you’ Coyle replied, his smile becoming a grin. ‘Another two miles at the most and we’ll be at the Citadel’ he said.
Allison frowned. ‘I’ve got to ask’ she said. ‘You’re not...’ she paused. ‘You’re not planning to shoot at the Brotherhood are you?’ she wanted to know.
Coyle shook his head. ‘Not unless they shoot at me first.’
‘It’s just that since I’ve known you you’ve kinda shown this habit of getting into fights’ Allison observed. ‘And I know you’ll provoke other folks into starting them too’ she added.
Coyle chuckled. ‘From what I’ve been hearing from people there could be dozens of power-armour wearing assholes in there, maybe hundreds more of the bastards scattered across DC’ he said. ‘I didn’t travel all this way to commit suicide.’
‘So you’re just going to spy on them or something?’ Allison asked.
‘Spies spy’ Coyle replied. ‘I’m a soldier’ he said, ‘I’m going to reconnoitre’ he told her.
‘What’s the difference?’ Allison wanted to know.
‘Spies get shot if they’re captured’ Coyle replied flatly. ‘There’s a good reason I’m still wearing my dog-tags’ he said. For that matter if it looked like he was going to get into a firefight with the Brotherhood of Steel it might be worth finding his Ranger insignia too and putting it on.
Dreamer’s stomach was doing flip-flops but fortunately there wasn’t really anything much in there to bring up so she wasn’t about to throw up. ‘What have you got against the Brotherhood anyhow?’ she asked, hoping that talking might take her mind off how she felt.
‘We’re at war’ Coyle replied. ‘They attacked us’ he continued, ‘fuckers stabbed us in the back as far as I’m concerned’ he said venomously. ‘Still we’ve pretty much got them beat now’ he continued with obvious satisfaction. ‘Outside of what territory they still hold in Maxson they’ve only got a few scattered bunkers left back home and we’re clearing them out one at a time.’
‘But how did you manage to beat the Steel Knights?’ Dreamer queried reasonably. Even the meanest, most heavily armed Raider gangs in the Capital Wasteland made sure not to get into a fight with those guys.
‘Because our cause was just and our hearts were true’ Coyle replied grandly. ‘And we had the bastards outnumbered better than a hundred to one too which might have helped a little’ he added, grinning. ‘The longer the war dragged on the more screwed they were because we could replace our losses and they couldn’t’ he explained. ‘Hell, after we ground them down for a few years we actually had enough troops in the field to be able to campaign against the Khans in the Mohave at the same time as we were fighting what was left of the Plague’ he said before taking a look at his watch. ‘Alright lets get going’ he ordered, moving off again as they made their way along the riverfront.
Allison checked that Dreamer’s rope tether was still secure and indicating that the captured raider should continue to walk ahead of her they began to follow Coyle. ‘When we stop again I’ll let you have some water if you think you can keep it down’ Allison told Dreamer.
‘I’m so thirsty after sweating so much the river water is starting to look pretty good’ Dreamer replied, bleakly.
Allison giggled. ‘Drink that and you’d end up glowing in the dark’ she said. The Potomac was legendarily radioactive.
Not too much further on as they approached a partially collapsed though still functional bridge over the river Coyle’s eye caught some movement nearby and he indicated for his companions to find cover and stay put while he scouted on ahead.
Given how close he now was to the Pentagon Coyle wasn’t too surprised to find a Brotherhood outpost but he was confused as to why they seemed to be packing up and in the process of vacating it. Nestled under this end of the bridge the outpost controlled the approaches to the only crossing point for miles and Coyle would certainly not have abandoned the position as the knights seemed to be doing.
Their equipment was hardly the most impressive Coyle had seen either. Although shortages of the superior T-51b Power Armour meant that even the West Coast Brotherhood had resorted to fielding a number of the less capable T-45d of late the fact that this entire squad was equipped with the inferior model suits was telling. Most at least had lasers, AER-9’s to be exact, but none had plasma weapons and spotting that a few were merely packing R91 Assault Rifles was intriguing too. ‘Looks like the Steel Plague out here is nearly rusted through’ Coyle said to himself in amusement as they continued to work.
Ten minutes later as the squad headed out Coyle returned back to Allison he wondered how long it would be before some raider gang realised what a valuable piece of real estate was up for grabs and took over the abandoned outpost themselves. ‘They must be really short of manpower too to give up that bridge’ he reasoned as he rejoined the girls. ‘You didn’t waste purified water on her did you?’ he complained to Allison finding Dreamer knocking back the contents of a plastic bottle.
‘She’s sick enough already without risking radiation poisoning’ Allison replied, now handing the Raider a large piece of Yao Quai jerky. ‘Don’t swallow too much at once, just gnaw on it a little’ she advised as Dreamer took the dried meat from her hand.
Coyle decided there was no point in complaining about his guide’s soft-heartedness so he merely sighed and told them they were going to go take a look at the citadel warning Dreamer if she caused any trouble then the first shot he fired was going to go through her liver ensuring a long, painful drawn-out death that would make Jet withdrawal seem a picnic by comparison.
Skirting the bridge and the now abandoned outpost Coyle paused to check if the Brotherhood had left anything behind but finding only a few empty crates and ammunition boxes the trio continued on towards the Pentagon which had begun to dominate the skyline ahead.
‘Back before the Great War they say twenty thousand people worked there’ Allison said in awe as they approached the huge complex.
‘If they were like the civil servants and REMF’s back home I doubt more than half of them actually worked there’ Coyle responded with a chuckle.
‘What’s a Remf?’ Allison asked, ‘is that more Latin?’
‘Rear Echelon Mother Fucker’ Coyle told her, spelling out the abbreviation. ‘Soldiers who sit behind desks instead of crouching behind sandbags’ he explained as the got close enough to see the guards by the new fortified entrance to the complex and patrols walking the perimeter. ‘Laser turrets and observation platforms set up high to command the approaches’ he noted professionally. ‘Building doesn’t look too smashed up either, I wonder what they found in there when they arrived?’ he asked rhetorically.
‘Maybe you should go take a look inside?’ Dreamer suggested sarcastically. ‘Ask nicely at the gate and I’ll bet they’d let you in.’
‘Or they’d hear my accent and blow my head off’ Coyle replied.
‘I’m not hearing a downside’ Dreamer said quietly to herself before taking another small bite on the jerky and starting to chew.
‘Looks like something toppled the building next door onto it’ Coyle noted. ‘We can’t get around it that way, we’ll have to skirt the place on the riverside which means getting close.’
‘According to Grandma Sparkle they don’t usually shoot at you for just walking past the building if you want to get a closer look’ Allison reminded Coyle. ‘I guess traders have to go past there to deal with the guy that runs the Ferry out to Point Lookout too?’ she reasoned.
‘Do we look like traders?’ Coyle replied sardonically.
‘Slave traders maybe’ Allison replied, indicating the rope they had Dreamer on. ‘I don’t think they like slavers much though.’
‘No, they prefer serfdom to outright slavery but that’s just semantics from a bunch of neo-feudalists’ Coyle muttered. ‘If they see my gauss rifle they’ll definitely want it’ he knew. The Brotherhood had a tendency to seize items of advanced technology from “lesser” peoples. ‘I can break it down into parts and with the barrel unscrewed it’ll fit in my pack’ he continued. ‘Probably best to dismount the IR Scope from my FN-FAL too’ he decided. ‘That won’t help much if they decide to stop and search us though.’
Allison looked thoughtful. ‘I’ve got an idea’ she said.
‘I’m all ears’ Coyle replied.
‘Well for a start, if we untie Dreamer...’ Allison began.
‘No’ Coyle interrupted her firmly.
‘Hear me out’ Allison requested. ‘She looks a little better now, not so much like a Ghoul as she did this morning, so she can carry your rucksack again which means she can’t run away too easily.’
‘It weighs a fucking ton’ Dreamer complained.
‘You rob and kill people, don’t expect endless sympathy from me’ Allison responded. ‘So the story is we’re heading along the river to discuss a trade deal with the Ferryman’ she explained to Coyle. ‘I’m in charge and you’re my big dumb bodyguard.’
‘Hey!’ Coyle objected.
‘I mean literally dumb because of your accent’ Allison told him. ‘They hear you talk and I conjure it won’t go very well’ she said wisely.
‘Yeah okay’ Coyle agreed. ‘Just don’t expect me to drool or something’ he said. ‘I have my dignity.’
‘No you don’t, I’ve seen you standing on a bar drunk and singing while you were wearing that shirt we put on Dreamer’ Allison corrected him.
Coyle narrowed his eyes. ‘You can insult my taste in clothes, my interpersonal skills, my jokes and you can even disrespect my personal hygiene and I’ll let it pass’ he said menacingly. ‘But you don’t speak ill of my family, my country or my singing’ he growled.
Dreamer flinched. ‘Okay then’ she agreed, breaking eye contact because he looked really intimidating right at that moment.
‘Do you know I was offered a contract at the Aces’ Coyle declared, still clearly annoyed at the perceived slight to his vocal talents. ‘Tommy Torini said I could be the biggest act on the Vegas Strip after I did a set on open mike night’ he added.
‘I’m sure you were very good’ Allison tried to placate him, although not really understanding what the hell he was talking about. ‘So do you want to hear the rest of my plan?’ she asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
‘It had better be good’ Coyle said, scowling.
After a tangle with a Super Mutant Behemoth over on the other side of the river Paladin Bael had been detailed light work for a week but after spending a whole month now stuck on gate duty he was starting to suspect he was here for the duration. He wasn’t sure if it was punishment or perhaps just because he had proven extremely effective at getting rid of uninvited visitors trying to wheedle their way in, either way it was boring as hell.
Considered gruff and unsociable even by other members of the Brotherhood, an organisation itself not known for its amiability towards outsiders, Bael prided himself on an ability to quickly get rid of the wastelanders who periodically arrived looking to enter. Deliberately not wearing his helmet so they could see his expression Bael had carefully mastered an air of utter disdain when talking to the interlopers and he prided himself on how few ever bothered to try and get in again after running into him.
The trio walking towards him now were better dressed than most at least, well the guy had a decent set of combat-armour on and the girl not wearing the horrible shirt was half-way presentable in her black leather outfit anyway, but if they thought they were going to be able to get in or talk to someone important they were sorely deluded. ‘What do you want locals?’ Bael asked them in a bored tone, hefting his AER-9 Laser Rifle meaningfully although the hulking heavily-armed Sentry Robot next to him was more than enough of a threat in itself.
‘Well we...’ the girl in the leather gear began.
‘Just keep moving’ Bael told her, waving her away with his AER-9. ‘Nobody gets into the Citadel unless they’re Brotherhood or have the express permission of Elder Lyons’ he announced.
The girl shook her head. ‘No we don’t want to get in’ she denied. ‘It’s just that I was going past here anyway on my way to the Ferry and I thought it was a good opportunity to help you out’ she said. ‘I mean not you specifically, the Brotherhood of Steel’ she explained.
‘Help us out?’ Bael queried suspiciously.
‘Yeah, you know by giving you some ammo’ the girl told him.
‘Say what?’ Bael responded, now extremely confused.
‘Like it says on the radio’ the girl told him. ‘All that talk about how you’re fighting the good fight and how we should say thanks or better yet give you some ammo’ she continued. ‘So here you go’ she said stepping closer and handing over a small cloth bag. ‘Sorry but we couldn’t really spare much’ she added apologetically.
Paladin Bael didn’t know what to say as he opened the bag finding a few .32 calibre rounds in there as well as some 9mm and a couple of shotgun shells. ‘Um... thanks’ he said awkwardly, closing the bag. ‘I think you might be the first person that actually has given us any ammo’ he told her.
‘Really?’ the girl asked in surprise.
‘Yes, really’ Bael confirmed. ‘You know we’re not that short of ammo’ he said, trying to pass the bag back. Nice girl, he decided, and the low-cut leather top she had on was doing wonders for her rack too he thought, trying not to be too blatant in his ogling of her cleavage even if towering over her in his Power Armour made it easy.
‘Oh no’ the girl raised her hands. ‘It’s for the good fight’ she said, refusing to take it. ‘So you take care and we’ll be going’ she said with another smile, moving to turn away before pausing and turning back to the Paladin. ‘Silly question but didn’t you used to have a few knights guarding the bridge down there?’ she asked pointing back in the direction she had come from. ‘We were going to give them the ammo but they weren’t there’ she told him, looking puzzled.
Bael sighed. ‘We just pulled out of there, a few other places too’ he replied. ‘We’re getting set for another big battle with the Super Mutants over in the Mall’ he told her. ‘We needed everyone we could get to help man the trenches we’ve been digging to help us hold the line, we repulsed the last few attacks but it looks like they really want that ground’ he said.
‘Oh I see’ the girl replied. ‘Good luck with that then’ she said, giving him another smile. ‘We should be going’ she said moving off with her companions following.
‘You might want to watch out for demolition squads’ Bael called after her, thinking he should. ‘We’re using explosives to collapse a few buildings, trying to seal off areas the Super Mutants have already taken to stop them spreading through the town now we’re redeploying troops’ he said. ‘And if one of the patrols stops you tell them that Paladin Bael at the gate said to let you go through.’
Bael took another look in the bag as the locals walked off. The cartridges weren’t in great condition he noticed, probably not much use really but it was the thought that counted he supposed, and it was nice to be appreciated by the locals for once seeing as how the Brotherhood was risking its ass on their behalf.
Once they were out of possible earshot Allison threw a smug look in Coyle’s direction. ‘You see’ she told him. ‘You can get around the wasteland by being nice to people and making pleasant conversation instead of shooting your way through every problem.’
‘It’ll never catch on’ Coyle replied still unconvinced as he continued making mental notes of the buildings exterior defences. As a Brotherhood Knight on patrol looked his way Coyle tried not to look too interested in the laser cannon turrets that were emplaced on the ground outside the Citadel facing the river but having seen what similar defences around Vault City could do to even a determined attacker the NCR soldier was impressed.
Having now checked out three of the buildings five sides and finding himself in what seemed to be a relatively intact, if deserted, part of town Coyle decided to complete his survey and now led his companions away from the river along a road that had the Citadel on one side and other largely derelict government buildings along the other.
‘Haven’t seen any knights for a while’ Allison remarked as they found another building collapsed against the Pentagon which prevented them following the building around any further.
‘I guess they really are short on manpower’ Coyle supposed, ‘not even enough to properly patrol around their own base’ he said.
They hadn’t gone more than another two hundred yards approaching what appeared to be a turn in the road before the sound of automatic gunfire up ahead and seeming to be getting closer fast began to echo towards them off the stone-faced government buildings.
‘Can’t I go one day with you without any shooting!’ Allison exclaimed as two figures in green combat armour, neither wearing a helmet came running into view, periodically turning to fire back in the direction they had came.
‘Maybe not’ Coyle replied, dropping to one knee and bringing up his FN-FAL in case it was needed not that he had any idea who the figures were or whether he should shoot at them or whoever it was that was chasing them.
Dreamer had enough sense to simply throw herself behind cover straight away, Allison joining her a moment later, but Coyle just calmly looked down his gunsights and pulled back the cocking handle of his battle-rifle chambering a round.
If she hadn’t been running for dear life self-proclaimed “Relic Hunter” Sydney would normally have spotted the man ahead wearing armour much like her own long before now but as it was both she and her friend Emaline were a tiny bit more distracted than normal and she only registered his being there right along the road she was running down for dear life when he started firing.
Emaline herself was busy trying to re-load her custom R91 on the run and very nearly freaked when the first bullet hurtled right past her coming from the other direction than the raiders. However the guy shooting yelling at them to “get out of the fucking line of fire” quickly saw both her and Sydney throw themselves to the ground as the stranger started gunning down the raiders with alacrity.
Still not entirely sure of the situation Coyle relied on his instincts. If a bunch of men in raider gear were chasing two women down the road it was his policy to shoot the bastards so he did so with his customary panache. Rapid-firing his FN-FAL, putting one quick round into each target then switching to the next in an extremely clinical and practiced manner, for the Raiders running headlong into Coyle was somewhat akin to running unexpectedly into a wall, one that blew holes right through your armour and then yourself.
With only twenty rounds in its magazine the high-powered battle-rifle was soon empty but it wasn’t a good time to play around reloading it so Coyle dropped his rifle and pulled his MP9 from its holster starting to fire short bursts. As he did so his brain registered that the two girls who were being chased were firing again themselves too and that the MP9 one was toting seemed to have a much higher firing rate than his own.
‘How many of these fuckers are there?’ Coyle called out over the sound of gunfire, quite a lot of it now coming from the raiders although their aim was mercifully poor.
‘Maybe forty or fifty’ the girl with the souped-up SMG called back.
‘Jesus wept’ Coyle muttered to himself, ejecting an empty magazine from his MP9 and loading another, noting that Allison was firing now herself, the crack of her hunting rifle off to one side distinctive.
Dreamer had no real idea what was going on but it was more than likely that if the raiders won this fight then they’d kill her too, or maybe gang-rape her then kill her. They weren’t from her crew, this wasn’t her turf so she wasn’t any better off than the others. She considered making a break for it but even dumping the heavy rucksack didn’t mean she’d necessarily make it. ‘I wish I could shoot for shit’ she moaned as she reached over and pulled Allison’s 10mm pistol from it’s holster, aiming it in the direction of the raiders and starting to pull the trigger before Allison could object.
Even though she didn’t get close to hitting anything whatsoever the sudden addition of yet another gun firing in their direction meant that the raiders were now starting to think that they had run headlong into an ambush with the chicks in the combat armour just bait. The fact that at least one of the other assholes shooting at them was wearing the same gear as the girls too wasn’t encouraging either because a lot of people in combat armour meant they were probably mercenaries or something.
Reading the situation correctly Coyle grinned. ‘We’ve got them now’ he called out. ‘Second squad, move around and flank these bastards’ he said loudly so the raiders could definitely hear.
‘Yes Sir’ Allison called back, playing along with his ruse.
‘Fuck me I think its Reilly’s Rangers’ one of the raiders moaned. He’d never encountered the famed mercenary outfit but he knew they wore green combat armour and were mean, heavily armed sons-of-bitches. For that matter Reilly was supposed to be redhead bitch. Maybe she was one the chicks they’d been chasing? One did have that hair colour.
‘Yeah if they get us in a crossfire or something we’re fucked’ another agreed.
‘You know what’ a third said after a pause. ‘Fuck this shit’ he declared and started heading back home, soon followed by a couple more then by the rest of them leaving their dead and any wounded they couldn’t recover without getting shot at behind.
‘Come back here and fight you fucking wimps’ Coyle yelled after them, laughing. ‘That was fun’ he said, holstering his MP9 and picking up his FN-FAL again, loading a fresh magazine into the rifle before getting up.
‘Are they gone?’ Allison asked, looking out nervously.
‘Who the hell are you?’ Sydney wanted to know. Getting up and walking towards Coyle, her SMG still ready to fire.
‘Your saviour, so aim that somewhere else’ Coyle responded curtly. ‘You okay sweetheart?’ he asked Allison.
‘Yes’ Allison confirmed, trying to get her breathing under control.
‘So am I’ Dreamer spoke up.
‘Like I care’ Coyle replied dismissively before pointing his rifle at her. ‘What the hell are you doing holding that firearm’ he demanded to know, seeing the 10mm in her hand.
‘I was protecting my own ass and you’re lucky I didn’t decide to pop a cap in yours while I was at it’ Dreamer spat back. ‘Here, this is yours’ she said, handing the pistol to Allison. ‘It’s empty’ she noted.
‘Should be plenty of replacement ammo on those guys’ Emaline said, indicating the fallen raiders. ‘We might want to be careful getting near them though’ she warned. ‘They could be faking how bad they’re hurt.’
‘Okay, I guess I’ll give the first introduction’ the dark-haired girl in combat armour addressed Coyle. ‘I’m Sydney’ she said. ‘That’s my best friend Emaline’ she added, indicating her companion who herself had bright red hair.
‘I’m Coyle’ the NCR Ranger introduced himself in turn. ‘That’s Allison with the rifle and the one wearing shades is Dreamer’ he told them. ‘Do you mind me asking how you ended up getting chased by four dozen raiders?’ he asked Sydney curiously.
Sydney sighed. ‘We were getting something for someone out of an old library the Brotherhood had boarded up years ago and I didn’t know a raider gang had moved in recently’ she said. ‘I wasn’t really expecting that kind of trouble’ she admitted. ‘I only brought Emaline along to help me carry the books I was after.’
‘Leave your flamethrower at home she said’ Emaline complained. ‘Here, borrow my rifle instead, it’s lighter so you can carry more books she said’ she continued bitterly.
‘Alright I’m sorry’ Sydney apologised. ‘I don’t think it would have been right to use a flamethrower in a library anyway.’
‘Whatever’ Emaline replied. ‘Anyhow you can do your next job for that weirdo collector of old junk on your own’ she told Sydney firmly.
‘Abraham isn’t crazy, he’s just a little eccentric, and it’s not junk’ Sydney told her friend before turning back to Coyle. ‘What were you doing here?’ she asked him.
‘We were just looking around’ Coyle replied, more or less honestly.
‘Oh, well if you were thinking of finding somewhere to stay or looking for something to salvage then I’ll warn you that not only is the library up ahead full of goddamn raiders they’ve also taken over an old hotel I used to bed down at for the night sometimes’ Sydney told him. ‘The Brotherhood used to keep the raiders out of the area but I guess they aren’t any more.’
‘A Paladin told us they’re sending most everyone they can over to the Mall to fight the Super Mutants’ Allison chipped in.
‘Don’t need to cross the river to find those big ugly bastards’ Emaline commented. ‘Falls Church is starting to crawl with them’ she said. ‘The raiders we ran into probably moved this way to keep clear of the things.’
‘Could be’ Sydney agreed. ‘So I guess we should say thanks for you helping us’ she said to Coyle gratefully. ‘We couldn’t get a big enough lead on them to stand and fight’ she continued. ‘If we’d stopped running they’d have been on us right away before we could get off many shots.’
‘I think they wanted us alive which is why they didn’t just all shoot us in the back’ Emaline said, grimacing at the thought of being taken by the raiders.
‘Although some of them were probably just crappy shots’ Sydney added. ‘I guess we should go split up what they’re carrying’ she said. ‘You can get first pick on weapons because we owe you’ she told Coyle.
‘Talking of weapons that’s a very interesting MP9’ Coyle told her. ‘Extended magazine and a higher cyclic?’ he checked.
Sydney grinned. ‘Right on both counts’ she confirmed. ‘Customised it myself’ she added.
‘You’re a gunsmith?’ Coyle asked, intrigued.
‘Learned from my father, he was one of the best’ Sydney confirmed. ‘That R91 Emaline is carrying is mine too’ she said with obvious pride in her work. ‘Chromed barrel and internals, everything precision and as long as you don’t feed it completely shit ammo it’ll keep firing long after a regular R91 has jammed up’ she told him. ‘I call it Wanda.’
‘Wanda’ Coyle repeated, raising his eyebrows.
‘It was a good name for a doll when I was little and it’s a good name for an assault rifle now’ Sydney insisted defensively. ‘You know seeing as how I owe you one, and I can always customise another rifle, how about I let you take Wanda in return for me and Emaline getting most of the stuff those raiders were carrying?’ she suggested. ‘That FN-FAL must be pricy to keep in bullets’ she noted. ‘Quality rifle though’ she did add appreciatively. ‘I wouldn’t mind a proper look at some point, don’t see too many around here.’
‘We should probably get a move on in case those raiders get some of their balls back’ Emaline advised seriously.
Sydney nodded. ‘If we gather it all up and head for the Ferry we can probably slip the captain a few caps to take us over the river to Rivet City’ she suggested. ‘We can even take their armour if we don’t have to haul it very far, that’ll get us enough caps to make up for leaving the books behind.’
‘I know you said they cleared out the tech manuals and the most useful stuff when they first arrived in town but if we tell the Brotherhood that Raiders have moved into the library and they’re smashing up the place and burning the remaining books for fuel maybe they’ll clear them back out’ Emaline said to Sydney.
‘We’ll make sure to let them know’ Sydney agreed.
‘Someone once wrote before the Great War that where they burn books they will ultimately burn people also’ Coyle quoted. ‘Most raiders these days start out with the people burning though’ he said.
‘Well they’re easier to find’ Dreamer pointed out.
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Note from the Author:
Considering how close the bridge was to the Pentagon in the game there really should have been a Brotherhood outpost there not raiders. Having it abandoned not long before Fallout 3 starts (canonically the Lone Wanderer leaves Vault 101 on August 17th 2277 so that's a few weeks in the future) with the knights there transferred to the fighting in the Mall (which is full of trenches in FO3) makes a little more sense methinks.
In FO1 and FO2 the West Coast Brotherhood of Steel are only ever seen using the T-51b Power Armour although by the time of Fallout: New Vegas a few of them are down to using the occasional T-45d (probably because the NCR has been kicking their arse). Meanwhile in the Capital Wasteland the inferior T-45d is pretty much it for the BoS because they just aren't as well equipped (more on that later in the Fic).
Coyle considers himself a great singer, he's not actually all that bad but has a slightly inflated perception of his own talent because while on a tour of duty in the Mojave Wasteland he once performed on stage at The Aces Theatre in The Tops casino and the audience (who included an awful lot of NCR soldiers it should be noted) enjoyed his performance.
Three Dog on GNR is always enthusing the population of the Capital Wasteland to support the Brotherhood in fighting the "good fight". Having the gruff Paladin Bael on the Citadel Gate being caught flat-footed by someone really giving him some ammo seemed funny if nothing else!
Sydney recovers "relics" for Abraham Washington in Rivet City. With her help in FO3 you can recover the Declaration of Independence (British fanfic author boos and hisses) for him but if you double-cross her on the deal you might find yourself getting attacked later by Sydney and her friend Emaline. Both Sydney and Emaline wear combat armour, so does Reilly of the mercenary group Reilly's Rangers. With her red hair and armour the raiders thinking Emaline is actually Reilly and they're taking on a full team of mercs is at least plausible (discipline, professionalism and remaining calm under fire are not their strong suits).
Despite being so close to the Citadel, and the Brotherhood having been in town for twenty years by 2277, for some reason Arlington Library is full of raiders and in FO3 you can help the Brotherhood out by aiding them in clearing out the raiders and recovering the books. The best I could come up to explain this was that the BoS had already taken the books they really wanted years before and boarded the place up. The raiders only arrived very recently (because the knights had pulled back patrols in the area) and because they were wrecking the place the Brotherhood Scribes persuaded the military arm of the organisation to go rescue what was left before it was burned and lost forever.
Wanda is a unique version of the R91 assault rifle that you can get if you use the console in FO3 but doesn't actually appear in the game (cut content). Sydney being a gunsmith gave me someone to have made the thing and of course you now all know that the reason why the Lone Wanderer never gets his hands on Wanda is because Coyle got to it first!
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XII
Arlington – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
‘In case you were thinking of going across to see what’s over there I heard that somebody mined the bridge’ Dreamer warned as they reached the crossing point to Theodore Roosevelt Island where the Anchorage War Memorial had been erected two centuries earlier, being finished shortly before the conflict went nuclear.
Coyle was still looking across to the island which lay in the middle of the Potomac. ‘Surprised you’d warn us’ he replied.
‘I might have caught some of the shrapnel when you stepped on a mine’ Dreamer told him honestly. ‘This shirt isn’t exactly a flak jacket’ she noted, wishing that her “disguise” would repel something more substantial than peoples gaze.
‘Spoken like a true raider sociopath’ Coyle responded, turning towards her, smiling. ‘You still look like shit by the way.’
‘Bite me’ Dreamer retorted. She was starting to suspect he wasn’t the type who would hit her for just mouthing off and in any case she still felt so bad from Jet withdrawal she didn’t much care if he did.
‘Not even a starving cannibal would want to take a bite of something that looked as sick as you’ Coyle replied, his smile becoming a grin. ‘Another two miles at the most and we’ll be at the Citadel’ he said.
Allison frowned. ‘I’ve got to ask’ she said. ‘You’re not...’ she paused. ‘You’re not planning to shoot at the Brotherhood are you?’ she wanted to know.
Coyle shook his head. ‘Not unless they shoot at me first.’
‘It’s just that since I’ve known you you’ve kinda shown this habit of getting into fights’ Allison observed. ‘And I know you’ll provoke other folks into starting them too’ she added.
Coyle chuckled. ‘From what I’ve been hearing from people there could be dozens of power-armour wearing assholes in there, maybe hundreds more of the bastards scattered across DC’ he said. ‘I didn’t travel all this way to commit suicide.’
‘So you’re just going to spy on them or something?’ Allison asked.
‘Spies spy’ Coyle replied. ‘I’m a soldier’ he said, ‘I’m going to reconnoitre’ he told her.
‘What’s the difference?’ Allison wanted to know.
‘Spies get shot if they’re captured’ Coyle replied flatly. ‘There’s a good reason I’m still wearing my dog-tags’ he said. For that matter if it looked like he was going to get into a firefight with the Brotherhood of Steel it might be worth finding his Ranger insignia too and putting it on.
Dreamer’s stomach was doing flip-flops but fortunately there wasn’t really anything much in there to bring up so she wasn’t about to throw up. ‘What have you got against the Brotherhood anyhow?’ she asked, hoping that talking might take her mind off how she felt.
‘We’re at war’ Coyle replied. ‘They attacked us’ he continued, ‘fuckers stabbed us in the back as far as I’m concerned’ he said venomously. ‘Still we’ve pretty much got them beat now’ he continued with obvious satisfaction. ‘Outside of what territory they still hold in Maxson they’ve only got a few scattered bunkers left back home and we’re clearing them out one at a time.’
‘But how did you manage to beat the Steel Knights?’ Dreamer queried reasonably. Even the meanest, most heavily armed Raider gangs in the Capital Wasteland made sure not to get into a fight with those guys.
‘Because our cause was just and our hearts were true’ Coyle replied grandly. ‘And we had the bastards outnumbered better than a hundred to one too which might have helped a little’ he added, grinning. ‘The longer the war dragged on the more screwed they were because we could replace our losses and they couldn’t’ he explained. ‘Hell, after we ground them down for a few years we actually had enough troops in the field to be able to campaign against the Khans in the Mohave at the same time as we were fighting what was left of the Plague’ he said before taking a look at his watch. ‘Alright lets get going’ he ordered, moving off again as they made their way along the riverfront.
Allison checked that Dreamer’s rope tether was still secure and indicating that the captured raider should continue to walk ahead of her they began to follow Coyle. ‘When we stop again I’ll let you have some water if you think you can keep it down’ Allison told Dreamer.
‘I’m so thirsty after sweating so much the river water is starting to look pretty good’ Dreamer replied, bleakly.
Allison giggled. ‘Drink that and you’d end up glowing in the dark’ she said. The Potomac was legendarily radioactive.
Not too much further on as they approached a partially collapsed though still functional bridge over the river Coyle’s eye caught some movement nearby and he indicated for his companions to find cover and stay put while he scouted on ahead.
Given how close he now was to the Pentagon Coyle wasn’t too surprised to find a Brotherhood outpost but he was confused as to why they seemed to be packing up and in the process of vacating it. Nestled under this end of the bridge the outpost controlled the approaches to the only crossing point for miles and Coyle would certainly not have abandoned the position as the knights seemed to be doing.
Their equipment was hardly the most impressive Coyle had seen either. Although shortages of the superior T-51b Power Armour meant that even the West Coast Brotherhood had resorted to fielding a number of the less capable T-45d of late the fact that this entire squad was equipped with the inferior model suits was telling. Most at least had lasers, AER-9’s to be exact, but none had plasma weapons and spotting that a few were merely packing R91 Assault Rifles was intriguing too. ‘Looks like the Steel Plague out here is nearly rusted through’ Coyle said to himself in amusement as they continued to work.
Ten minutes later as the squad headed out Coyle returned back to Allison he wondered how long it would be before some raider gang realised what a valuable piece of real estate was up for grabs and took over the abandoned outpost themselves. ‘They must be really short of manpower too to give up that bridge’ he reasoned as he rejoined the girls. ‘You didn’t waste purified water on her did you?’ he complained to Allison finding Dreamer knocking back the contents of a plastic bottle.
‘She’s sick enough already without risking radiation poisoning’ Allison replied, now handing the Raider a large piece of Yao Quai jerky. ‘Don’t swallow too much at once, just gnaw on it a little’ she advised as Dreamer took the dried meat from her hand.
Coyle decided there was no point in complaining about his guide’s soft-heartedness so he merely sighed and told them they were going to go take a look at the citadel warning Dreamer if she caused any trouble then the first shot he fired was going to go through her liver ensuring a long, painful drawn-out death that would make Jet withdrawal seem a picnic by comparison.
Skirting the bridge and the now abandoned outpost Coyle paused to check if the Brotherhood had left anything behind but finding only a few empty crates and ammunition boxes the trio continued on towards the Pentagon which had begun to dominate the skyline ahead.
‘Back before the Great War they say twenty thousand people worked there’ Allison said in awe as they approached the huge complex.
‘If they were like the civil servants and REMF’s back home I doubt more than half of them actually worked there’ Coyle responded with a chuckle.
‘What’s a Remf?’ Allison asked, ‘is that more Latin?’
‘Rear Echelon Mother Fucker’ Coyle told her, spelling out the abbreviation. ‘Soldiers who sit behind desks instead of crouching behind sandbags’ he explained as the got close enough to see the guards by the new fortified entrance to the complex and patrols walking the perimeter. ‘Laser turrets and observation platforms set up high to command the approaches’ he noted professionally. ‘Building doesn’t look too smashed up either, I wonder what they found in there when they arrived?’ he asked rhetorically.
‘Maybe you should go take a look inside?’ Dreamer suggested sarcastically. ‘Ask nicely at the gate and I’ll bet they’d let you in.’
‘Or they’d hear my accent and blow my head off’ Coyle replied.
‘I’m not hearing a downside’ Dreamer said quietly to herself before taking another small bite on the jerky and starting to chew.
‘Looks like something toppled the building next door onto it’ Coyle noted. ‘We can’t get around it that way, we’ll have to skirt the place on the riverside which means getting close.’
‘According to Grandma Sparkle they don’t usually shoot at you for just walking past the building if you want to get a closer look’ Allison reminded Coyle. ‘I guess traders have to go past there to deal with the guy that runs the Ferry out to Point Lookout too?’ she reasoned.
‘Do we look like traders?’ Coyle replied sardonically.
‘Slave traders maybe’ Allison replied, indicating the rope they had Dreamer on. ‘I don’t think they like slavers much though.’
‘No, they prefer serfdom to outright slavery but that’s just semantics from a bunch of neo-feudalists’ Coyle muttered. ‘If they see my gauss rifle they’ll definitely want it’ he knew. The Brotherhood had a tendency to seize items of advanced technology from “lesser” peoples. ‘I can break it down into parts and with the barrel unscrewed it’ll fit in my pack’ he continued. ‘Probably best to dismount the IR Scope from my FN-FAL too’ he decided. ‘That won’t help much if they decide to stop and search us though.’
Allison looked thoughtful. ‘I’ve got an idea’ she said.
‘I’m all ears’ Coyle replied.
‘Well for a start, if we untie Dreamer...’ Allison began.
‘No’ Coyle interrupted her firmly.
‘Hear me out’ Allison requested. ‘She looks a little better now, not so much like a Ghoul as she did this morning, so she can carry your rucksack again which means she can’t run away too easily.’
‘It weighs a fucking ton’ Dreamer complained.
‘You rob and kill people, don’t expect endless sympathy from me’ Allison responded. ‘So the story is we’re heading along the river to discuss a trade deal with the Ferryman’ she explained to Coyle. ‘I’m in charge and you’re my big dumb bodyguard.’
‘Hey!’ Coyle objected.
‘I mean literally dumb because of your accent’ Allison told him. ‘They hear you talk and I conjure it won’t go very well’ she said wisely.
‘Yeah okay’ Coyle agreed. ‘Just don’t expect me to drool or something’ he said. ‘I have my dignity.’
‘No you don’t, I’ve seen you standing on a bar drunk and singing while you were wearing that shirt we put on Dreamer’ Allison corrected him.
Coyle narrowed his eyes. ‘You can insult my taste in clothes, my interpersonal skills, my jokes and you can even disrespect my personal hygiene and I’ll let it pass’ he said menacingly. ‘But you don’t speak ill of my family, my country or my singing’ he growled.
Dreamer flinched. ‘Okay then’ she agreed, breaking eye contact because he looked really intimidating right at that moment.
‘Do you know I was offered a contract at the Aces’ Coyle declared, still clearly annoyed at the perceived slight to his vocal talents. ‘Tommy Torini said I could be the biggest act on the Vegas Strip after I did a set on open mike night’ he added.
‘I’m sure you were very good’ Allison tried to placate him, although not really understanding what the hell he was talking about. ‘So do you want to hear the rest of my plan?’ she asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
‘It had better be good’ Coyle said, scowling.
After a tangle with a Super Mutant Behemoth over on the other side of the river Paladin Bael had been detailed light work for a week but after spending a whole month now stuck on gate duty he was starting to suspect he was here for the duration. He wasn’t sure if it was punishment or perhaps just because he had proven extremely effective at getting rid of uninvited visitors trying to wheedle their way in, either way it was boring as hell.
Considered gruff and unsociable even by other members of the Brotherhood, an organisation itself not known for its amiability towards outsiders, Bael prided himself on an ability to quickly get rid of the wastelanders who periodically arrived looking to enter. Deliberately not wearing his helmet so they could see his expression Bael had carefully mastered an air of utter disdain when talking to the interlopers and he prided himself on how few ever bothered to try and get in again after running into him.
The trio walking towards him now were better dressed than most at least, well the guy had a decent set of combat-armour on and the girl not wearing the horrible shirt was half-way presentable in her black leather outfit anyway, but if they thought they were going to be able to get in or talk to someone important they were sorely deluded. ‘What do you want locals?’ Bael asked them in a bored tone, hefting his AER-9 Laser Rifle meaningfully although the hulking heavily-armed Sentry Robot next to him was more than enough of a threat in itself.
‘Well we...’ the girl in the leather gear began.
‘Just keep moving’ Bael told her, waving her away with his AER-9. ‘Nobody gets into the Citadel unless they’re Brotherhood or have the express permission of Elder Lyons’ he announced.
The girl shook her head. ‘No we don’t want to get in’ she denied. ‘It’s just that I was going past here anyway on my way to the Ferry and I thought it was a good opportunity to help you out’ she said. ‘I mean not you specifically, the Brotherhood of Steel’ she explained.
‘Help us out?’ Bael queried suspiciously.
‘Yeah, you know by giving you some ammo’ the girl told him.
‘Say what?’ Bael responded, now extremely confused.
‘Like it says on the radio’ the girl told him. ‘All that talk about how you’re fighting the good fight and how we should say thanks or better yet give you some ammo’ she continued. ‘So here you go’ she said stepping closer and handing over a small cloth bag. ‘Sorry but we couldn’t really spare much’ she added apologetically.
Paladin Bael didn’t know what to say as he opened the bag finding a few .32 calibre rounds in there as well as some 9mm and a couple of shotgun shells. ‘Um... thanks’ he said awkwardly, closing the bag. ‘I think you might be the first person that actually has given us any ammo’ he told her.
‘Really?’ the girl asked in surprise.
‘Yes, really’ Bael confirmed. ‘You know we’re not that short of ammo’ he said, trying to pass the bag back. Nice girl, he decided, and the low-cut leather top she had on was doing wonders for her rack too he thought, trying not to be too blatant in his ogling of her cleavage even if towering over her in his Power Armour made it easy.
‘Oh no’ the girl raised her hands. ‘It’s for the good fight’ she said, refusing to take it. ‘So you take care and we’ll be going’ she said with another smile, moving to turn away before pausing and turning back to the Paladin. ‘Silly question but didn’t you used to have a few knights guarding the bridge down there?’ she asked pointing back in the direction she had come from. ‘We were going to give them the ammo but they weren’t there’ she told him, looking puzzled.
Bael sighed. ‘We just pulled out of there, a few other places too’ he replied. ‘We’re getting set for another big battle with the Super Mutants over in the Mall’ he told her. ‘We needed everyone we could get to help man the trenches we’ve been digging to help us hold the line, we repulsed the last few attacks but it looks like they really want that ground’ he said.
‘Oh I see’ the girl replied. ‘Good luck with that then’ she said, giving him another smile. ‘We should be going’ she said moving off with her companions following.
‘You might want to watch out for demolition squads’ Bael called after her, thinking he should. ‘We’re using explosives to collapse a few buildings, trying to seal off areas the Super Mutants have already taken to stop them spreading through the town now we’re redeploying troops’ he said. ‘And if one of the patrols stops you tell them that Paladin Bael at the gate said to let you go through.’
Bael took another look in the bag as the locals walked off. The cartridges weren’t in great condition he noticed, probably not much use really but it was the thought that counted he supposed, and it was nice to be appreciated by the locals for once seeing as how the Brotherhood was risking its ass on their behalf.
Once they were out of possible earshot Allison threw a smug look in Coyle’s direction. ‘You see’ she told him. ‘You can get around the wasteland by being nice to people and making pleasant conversation instead of shooting your way through every problem.’
‘It’ll never catch on’ Coyle replied still unconvinced as he continued making mental notes of the buildings exterior defences. As a Brotherhood Knight on patrol looked his way Coyle tried not to look too interested in the laser cannon turrets that were emplaced on the ground outside the Citadel facing the river but having seen what similar defences around Vault City could do to even a determined attacker the NCR soldier was impressed.
Having now checked out three of the buildings five sides and finding himself in what seemed to be a relatively intact, if deserted, part of town Coyle decided to complete his survey and now led his companions away from the river along a road that had the Citadel on one side and other largely derelict government buildings along the other.
‘Haven’t seen any knights for a while’ Allison remarked as they found another building collapsed against the Pentagon which prevented them following the building around any further.
‘I guess they really are short on manpower’ Coyle supposed, ‘not even enough to properly patrol around their own base’ he said.
They hadn’t gone more than another two hundred yards approaching what appeared to be a turn in the road before the sound of automatic gunfire up ahead and seeming to be getting closer fast began to echo towards them off the stone-faced government buildings.
‘Can’t I go one day with you without any shooting!’ Allison exclaimed as two figures in green combat armour, neither wearing a helmet came running into view, periodically turning to fire back in the direction they had came.
‘Maybe not’ Coyle replied, dropping to one knee and bringing up his FN-FAL in case it was needed not that he had any idea who the figures were or whether he should shoot at them or whoever it was that was chasing them.
Dreamer had enough sense to simply throw herself behind cover straight away, Allison joining her a moment later, but Coyle just calmly looked down his gunsights and pulled back the cocking handle of his battle-rifle chambering a round.
If she hadn’t been running for dear life self-proclaimed “Relic Hunter” Sydney would normally have spotted the man ahead wearing armour much like her own long before now but as it was both she and her friend Emaline were a tiny bit more distracted than normal and she only registered his being there right along the road she was running down for dear life when he started firing.
Emaline herself was busy trying to re-load her custom R91 on the run and very nearly freaked when the first bullet hurtled right past her coming from the other direction than the raiders. However the guy shooting yelling at them to “get out of the fucking line of fire” quickly saw both her and Sydney throw themselves to the ground as the stranger started gunning down the raiders with alacrity.
Still not entirely sure of the situation Coyle relied on his instincts. If a bunch of men in raider gear were chasing two women down the road it was his policy to shoot the bastards so he did so with his customary panache. Rapid-firing his FN-FAL, putting one quick round into each target then switching to the next in an extremely clinical and practiced manner, for the Raiders running headlong into Coyle was somewhat akin to running unexpectedly into a wall, one that blew holes right through your armour and then yourself.
With only twenty rounds in its magazine the high-powered battle-rifle was soon empty but it wasn’t a good time to play around reloading it so Coyle dropped his rifle and pulled his MP9 from its holster starting to fire short bursts. As he did so his brain registered that the two girls who were being chased were firing again themselves too and that the MP9 one was toting seemed to have a much higher firing rate than his own.
‘How many of these fuckers are there?’ Coyle called out over the sound of gunfire, quite a lot of it now coming from the raiders although their aim was mercifully poor.
‘Maybe forty or fifty’ the girl with the souped-up SMG called back.
‘Jesus wept’ Coyle muttered to himself, ejecting an empty magazine from his MP9 and loading another, noting that Allison was firing now herself, the crack of her hunting rifle off to one side distinctive.
Dreamer had no real idea what was going on but it was more than likely that if the raiders won this fight then they’d kill her too, or maybe gang-rape her then kill her. They weren’t from her crew, this wasn’t her turf so she wasn’t any better off than the others. She considered making a break for it but even dumping the heavy rucksack didn’t mean she’d necessarily make it. ‘I wish I could shoot for shit’ she moaned as she reached over and pulled Allison’s 10mm pistol from it’s holster, aiming it in the direction of the raiders and starting to pull the trigger before Allison could object.
Even though she didn’t get close to hitting anything whatsoever the sudden addition of yet another gun firing in their direction meant that the raiders were now starting to think that they had run headlong into an ambush with the chicks in the combat armour just bait. The fact that at least one of the other assholes shooting at them was wearing the same gear as the girls too wasn’t encouraging either because a lot of people in combat armour meant they were probably mercenaries or something.
Reading the situation correctly Coyle grinned. ‘We’ve got them now’ he called out. ‘Second squad, move around and flank these bastards’ he said loudly so the raiders could definitely hear.
‘Yes Sir’ Allison called back, playing along with his ruse.
‘Fuck me I think its Reilly’s Rangers’ one of the raiders moaned. He’d never encountered the famed mercenary outfit but he knew they wore green combat armour and were mean, heavily armed sons-of-bitches. For that matter Reilly was supposed to be redhead bitch. Maybe she was one the chicks they’d been chasing? One did have that hair colour.
‘Yeah if they get us in a crossfire or something we’re fucked’ another agreed.
‘You know what’ a third said after a pause. ‘Fuck this shit’ he declared and started heading back home, soon followed by a couple more then by the rest of them leaving their dead and any wounded they couldn’t recover without getting shot at behind.
‘Come back here and fight you fucking wimps’ Coyle yelled after them, laughing. ‘That was fun’ he said, holstering his MP9 and picking up his FN-FAL again, loading a fresh magazine into the rifle before getting up.
‘Are they gone?’ Allison asked, looking out nervously.
‘Who the hell are you?’ Sydney wanted to know. Getting up and walking towards Coyle, her SMG still ready to fire.
‘Your saviour, so aim that somewhere else’ Coyle responded curtly. ‘You okay sweetheart?’ he asked Allison.
‘Yes’ Allison confirmed, trying to get her breathing under control.
‘So am I’ Dreamer spoke up.
‘Like I care’ Coyle replied dismissively before pointing his rifle at her. ‘What the hell are you doing holding that firearm’ he demanded to know, seeing the 10mm in her hand.
‘I was protecting my own ass and you’re lucky I didn’t decide to pop a cap in yours while I was at it’ Dreamer spat back. ‘Here, this is yours’ she said, handing the pistol to Allison. ‘It’s empty’ she noted.
‘Should be plenty of replacement ammo on those guys’ Emaline said, indicating the fallen raiders. ‘We might want to be careful getting near them though’ she warned. ‘They could be faking how bad they’re hurt.’
‘Okay, I guess I’ll give the first introduction’ the dark-haired girl in combat armour addressed Coyle. ‘I’m Sydney’ she said. ‘That’s my best friend Emaline’ she added, indicating her companion who herself had bright red hair.
‘I’m Coyle’ the NCR Ranger introduced himself in turn. ‘That’s Allison with the rifle and the one wearing shades is Dreamer’ he told them. ‘Do you mind me asking how you ended up getting chased by four dozen raiders?’ he asked Sydney curiously.
Sydney sighed. ‘We were getting something for someone out of an old library the Brotherhood had boarded up years ago and I didn’t know a raider gang had moved in recently’ she said. ‘I wasn’t really expecting that kind of trouble’ she admitted. ‘I only brought Emaline along to help me carry the books I was after.’
‘Leave your flamethrower at home she said’ Emaline complained. ‘Here, borrow my rifle instead, it’s lighter so you can carry more books she said’ she continued bitterly.
‘Alright I’m sorry’ Sydney apologised. ‘I don’t think it would have been right to use a flamethrower in a library anyway.’
‘Whatever’ Emaline replied. ‘Anyhow you can do your next job for that weirdo collector of old junk on your own’ she told Sydney firmly.
‘Abraham isn’t crazy, he’s just a little eccentric, and it’s not junk’ Sydney told her friend before turning back to Coyle. ‘What were you doing here?’ she asked him.
‘We were just looking around’ Coyle replied, more or less honestly.
‘Oh, well if you were thinking of finding somewhere to stay or looking for something to salvage then I’ll warn you that not only is the library up ahead full of goddamn raiders they’ve also taken over an old hotel I used to bed down at for the night sometimes’ Sydney told him. ‘The Brotherhood used to keep the raiders out of the area but I guess they aren’t any more.’
‘A Paladin told us they’re sending most everyone they can over to the Mall to fight the Super Mutants’ Allison chipped in.
‘Don’t need to cross the river to find those big ugly bastards’ Emaline commented. ‘Falls Church is starting to crawl with them’ she said. ‘The raiders we ran into probably moved this way to keep clear of the things.’
‘Could be’ Sydney agreed. ‘So I guess we should say thanks for you helping us’ she said to Coyle gratefully. ‘We couldn’t get a big enough lead on them to stand and fight’ she continued. ‘If we’d stopped running they’d have been on us right away before we could get off many shots.’
‘I think they wanted us alive which is why they didn’t just all shoot us in the back’ Emaline said, grimacing at the thought of being taken by the raiders.
‘Although some of them were probably just crappy shots’ Sydney added. ‘I guess we should go split up what they’re carrying’ she said. ‘You can get first pick on weapons because we owe you’ she told Coyle.
‘Talking of weapons that’s a very interesting MP9’ Coyle told her. ‘Extended magazine and a higher cyclic?’ he checked.
Sydney grinned. ‘Right on both counts’ she confirmed. ‘Customised it myself’ she added.
‘You’re a gunsmith?’ Coyle asked, intrigued.
‘Learned from my father, he was one of the best’ Sydney confirmed. ‘That R91 Emaline is carrying is mine too’ she said with obvious pride in her work. ‘Chromed barrel and internals, everything precision and as long as you don’t feed it completely shit ammo it’ll keep firing long after a regular R91 has jammed up’ she told him. ‘I call it Wanda.’
‘Wanda’ Coyle repeated, raising his eyebrows.
‘It was a good name for a doll when I was little and it’s a good name for an assault rifle now’ Sydney insisted defensively. ‘You know seeing as how I owe you one, and I can always customise another rifle, how about I let you take Wanda in return for me and Emaline getting most of the stuff those raiders were carrying?’ she suggested. ‘That FN-FAL must be pricy to keep in bullets’ she noted. ‘Quality rifle though’ she did add appreciatively. ‘I wouldn’t mind a proper look at some point, don’t see too many around here.’
‘We should probably get a move on in case those raiders get some of their balls back’ Emaline advised seriously.
Sydney nodded. ‘If we gather it all up and head for the Ferry we can probably slip the captain a few caps to take us over the river to Rivet City’ she suggested. ‘We can even take their armour if we don’t have to haul it very far, that’ll get us enough caps to make up for leaving the books behind.’
‘I know you said they cleared out the tech manuals and the most useful stuff when they first arrived in town but if we tell the Brotherhood that Raiders have moved into the library and they’re smashing up the place and burning the remaining books for fuel maybe they’ll clear them back out’ Emaline said to Sydney.
‘We’ll make sure to let them know’ Sydney agreed.
‘Someone once wrote before the Great War that where they burn books they will ultimately burn people also’ Coyle quoted. ‘Most raiders these days start out with the people burning though’ he said.
‘Well they’re easier to find’ Dreamer pointed out.
----------
Note from the Author:
Considering how close the bridge was to the Pentagon in the game there really should have been a Brotherhood outpost there not raiders. Having it abandoned not long before Fallout 3 starts (canonically the Lone Wanderer leaves Vault 101 on August 17th 2277 so that's a few weeks in the future) with the knights there transferred to the fighting in the Mall (which is full of trenches in FO3) makes a little more sense methinks.
In FO1 and FO2 the West Coast Brotherhood of Steel are only ever seen using the T-51b Power Armour although by the time of Fallout: New Vegas a few of them are down to using the occasional T-45d (probably because the NCR has been kicking their arse). Meanwhile in the Capital Wasteland the inferior T-45d is pretty much it for the BoS because they just aren't as well equipped (more on that later in the Fic).
Coyle considers himself a great singer, he's not actually all that bad but has a slightly inflated perception of his own talent because while on a tour of duty in the Mojave Wasteland he once performed on stage at The Aces Theatre in The Tops casino and the audience (who included an awful lot of NCR soldiers it should be noted) enjoyed his performance.
Three Dog on GNR is always enthusing the population of the Capital Wasteland to support the Brotherhood in fighting the "good fight". Having the gruff Paladin Bael on the Citadel Gate being caught flat-footed by someone really giving him some ammo seemed funny if nothing else!
Sydney recovers "relics" for Abraham Washington in Rivet City. With her help in FO3 you can recover the Declaration of Independence (British fanfic author boos and hisses) for him but if you double-cross her on the deal you might find yourself getting attacked later by Sydney and her friend Emaline. Both Sydney and Emaline wear combat armour, so does Reilly of the mercenary group Reilly's Rangers. With her red hair and armour the raiders thinking Emaline is actually Reilly and they're taking on a full team of mercs is at least plausible (discipline, professionalism and remaining calm under fire are not their strong suits).
Despite being so close to the Citadel, and the Brotherhood having been in town for twenty years by 2277, for some reason Arlington Library is full of raiders and in FO3 you can help the Brotherhood out by aiding them in clearing out the raiders and recovering the books. The best I could come up to explain this was that the BoS had already taken the books they really wanted years before and boarded the place up. The raiders only arrived very recently (because the knights had pulled back patrols in the area) and because they were wrecking the place the Brotherhood Scribes persuaded the military arm of the organisation to go rescue what was left before it was burned and lost forever.
Wanda is a unique version of the R91 assault rifle that you can get if you use the console in FO3 but doesn't actually appear in the game (cut content). Sydney being a gunsmith gave me someone to have made the thing and of course you now all know that the reason why the Lone Wanderer never gets his hands on Wanda is because Coyle got to it first!
The story continues...
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XIII
Potomac River – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
Tobar, owner and Captain of the Duchess Gambit put on his most winning smile and persuasive tone of voice. ‘Are you sure I couldn’t interest you in an exciting journey of adventure to the mysterious Point Lookout?’ he asked the stranger again.
‘No we just want to get to Rivet City like I told you the last four times’ Sydney interrupted before the increasingly annoyed looking Coyle punched Tobar on the nose.
‘And I can’t interest you in purchasing some more delicious Punga Fruit?’ Tobar checked.
‘We’ve already bought half a sack full of the damn things and we’ve given you twenty-five caps to take us across the river so can we please just get going?’ Coyle requested impatiently.
‘We’ll get underway as soon as the caravan arrives to pick up my cargo’ Tobar told him, indicating the crates of both refined and wild punga fruit which now sat on the wooden dock waiting to be collected. ‘They’re due any time now’ he promised.
‘You said that an hour ago’ Coyle complained. ‘It’ll be getting dark by the time we arrive if they don’t get here soon’ he noted, checking his watch and then looking up into the sky.
Tobar shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t be risking the Duchess sailing close to shore risking hidden rocks in the dark’ he said. ‘We might have to wait until dawn’ he announced. ‘Of course back in the days when she was in better repair and we regularly sailed the coast as far north as the Institute...’
‘And as far south as the Broken Banks...’ Sydney interrupted, having heard Tobar’s tales of the sea more than a few times before. The last time she had been on the ferry she had been delivering a number of small glass jars he had asked her to source for him. She didn’t manage to get a straight answer when she asked what he wanted them for though.
‘Indeed’ Tobar confirmed, nodding. ‘Well in those days I wouldn’t have feared but her timbers these days are more fragile’ he said sadly.
‘You know what’ Coyle said, deciding to just accept the situation and not get any more wound up about it. ‘I’ll just go up top and chill out with a Nuka Cola’ he decided, remembering he had a few in his rucksack.
‘A slice of punga fruit in a glass of Nuka Cola adds a new dimension to the flavour’ Tobar called after him as Coyle headed for the stairs up to the upper deck of the old riverboat.
‘Why am I not surprised’ Coyle said to himself, rolling his eyes as he stomped up the wooden steps. ‘Tobar had already previously claimed that the fruit was high in vitamins, good for an upset stomach, a proven aphrodisiac and lowered your radiation.
Already on the top deck and sitting on one of the wooden bench seats up there Allison was looking out over the river towards the Jefferson Memorial. ‘Do you want some fruit?’ she asked Coyle, the sack of punga they had purchased sat next to her on the bench.
‘Not right now’ Coyle replied, heading for where he had earlier dumped his rucksack and opening it. ‘Give one to Dreamer if she wants it’ he told his guide, looking across to where the raider girl was sat on another bench herself staring into space.
‘I already did’ Allison replied before smiling at him. ‘Nice of you to think of it though’ she said.
‘Moment of weakness’ Coyle responded before finding a bottle of Nuka Cola in his bag, twisting off the cap and taking a swig with satisfaction. ‘Ahh, I needed that’ he said, finding a spot to sit down himself and taking off his helmet.
Allison yawned and stretched. ‘I was talking to Tobar earlier while you were discussing rifles with Sydney...’ she began.
‘Did he sell you any more fruit?’ Coyle asked.
‘No but he tried’ Allison replied, laughing. ‘He said there used to be a lot more boats passing this way bringing in food and trading for salvage from the city but times are hard these days, what with more and more raiders and super-mutants, so sometimes Rivet City can go weeks or even months without getting supplies.’
‘Profit margins not good enough’ Coyle reasoned.
‘He said that the Commonwealth has more to offer in trade so the boats which can make the journey bringing goods from further south go there instead’ Allison told him.
Coyle took another mouthful of Nuka Cola. ‘What do you know about the Institute?’ he asked.
‘Not much’ Allison admitted. ‘Pa used to say that folks he met said the Institute was a source of wonders’ she said. ‘Gadgets such as even the Brotherhood didn’t have.’
‘Got to be MIT’ Coyle reasoned. ‘If they had their own bunker they might have made it through the Great War and they would have had a lot of very smart people.’
‘MIT?’ Allison asked.
‘Massachusetts Institute of Technology’ Coyle told her. ‘Pity Caltech didn’t survive too or the NCR would own everything to the Mississippi by now’ he said regretfully. ‘Might have to go up there and take a look-see after I’ve properly looked around this place’ he thought aloud.
Allison appraised Coyle, not for the first time by any means. ‘Sometimes it seems like you know an awful lot about most everything’ she told him.
‘I used to read a lot, my father encouraged me because he was worried my Mom’s influence would mean I’d end up ignorant of everything but spear-throwing’ Coyle told her. ‘I do throw a mean spear though’ he said, smiling.
‘You said before your Pa was from a Vault and your Ma was a tribal’ Allison recalled.
‘My home town was founded by two groups, one tribal one straight out of Vault 13’ Coyle explained. ‘They tried to marry off between them to help tie everyone together’ he said. ‘I was one of the first products that came out of the experiment you might say’ he continued. ‘It was clearly an overwhelming success as you can testify.’
‘Yeah, right’ Dreamer observed sarcastically.
‘Not under oath I couldn’t either’ Allison told him, trying to keep a straight face.
Coyle gave Allison a look of displeasure. ‘Et tu, Brute? as they say in Legion territory’ he complained.
‘How old are you?’ Allison queried, realising she wasn’t sure.
‘I turned thirty-three a couple of months back’ Coyle replied.
Allison looked a little surprised. ‘I thought you were younger than that’ she told him. ‘I mean you look younger.’
‘I probably had a better diet growing up than most people you’ve met’ Coyle told her. ‘Better access to general medical care and anti-radiation drugs too.’
‘I’m coming up on nineteen’ Allison decided to tell him.
‘About what I thought’ Coyle replied.
‘I’m twenty-two’ Dreamer announced.
‘Nobody asked’ Coyle responded flatly.
‘You didn’t ask her either’ Dreamer pointed out.
‘I like her’ Coyle retorted. ‘So shouldn’t a Blue Ridge Mountain Gal like yourself be married with half-a-dozen kids by now?’ he asked Allison.
‘I was betrothed to someone but he died’ Allison replied. ‘Didn’t really know him too well, it was just something my folks arranged with a family from the next valley over’ she said. ‘When I lost my Pa and my brothers I had to get the job at the bar I told you about to keep myself and then because everyone thought that all the girls there went with the customers, and I had no big dowry or nothing neither, nobody else seemed to want my hand.’
‘I’ll bet plenty wanted the rest of you though’ Coyle surmised.
Allison blushed. ‘Had a boyfriend I thought was going to take me away, he said he would, but he just left one day and never came back’ she said. ‘I heard he shacked up with a young widow that owned a farm.’
Coyle finished off his Nuka Cola and pocketing the bottlecap threw the empty bottle off into the Potomac. ‘He must have been a lucky bastard to get you in the first place and a stupid one for letting you go’ he said chivalrously.
‘That’s real sweet of you to say’ Allison told him, beaming.
Dreamer snorted with derision. ‘Shit, after listening to that I’m queasier than ever’ she muttered.
‘I’ve still got one hand I can slap you with that won’t hurt me when I do’ Coyle warned the raider.
‘Like hitting women do you?’ Emaline’s voice interrupted them. She had been on the lower deck sorting through the heap of raider armour they had carried to the Ferry but she must have finished the task.
‘In the same way as I like hitting men’ Coyle replied. ‘Only when they deserve it’ he said.
Emaline was directing a suspicious, mildly hostile gaze at Coyle which was hard to ignore. ‘Cassidy doesn’t beat us or anything if that’s what you think’ Allison told her quickly.
‘That’s what... someone I used to know used to tell people when they asked her about the bruises she was wearing’ Emaline replied, unconvinced.
‘He takes a strap to my back all the time’ Dreamer declared. ‘He beat me so bad day before last I could hardly straighten up.’
‘Ignore her, she’s just playing you after sensing an opportunity to get away’ Coyle advised Emaline.
‘Says you’ Emaline responded curtly, wondering if she should call Sydney up here as backup.
‘Just lift the back of the shirt she’s got on and see for yourself’ Allison suggested.
Dreamer grimaced, should have thought further ahead there she thought. The Jet withdrawal wasn’t aiding her thought processes. ‘I heal fast, the cuts and bruises might be all gone’ she said quickly.
‘Okay, now my bullshit detector is going off like an oversensitive Geiger-Counter’ a now distrustful Emaline told Dreamer.
‘It was worth a try’ Dreamer said dejectedly.
‘What are you going to do with her anyway?’ Emaline asked Coyle and Allison, they had previously explained she was a captured raider.
‘I guess we’ll come up with an idea we can both agree on eventually’ Coyle replied with a shrug.
‘If you handed her over to Rivet City Security they might just shoot her’ Emaline said. ‘The Regulators would for sure.’
Coyle sighed. ‘I won’t sell her, slavery goes against the grain, and Little Miss Conscience from the Blue Ridge there isn’t go to go along with us killing her or letting someone else do it so we’re stuck with her for now’ he said. ‘I can’t let a drug-addicted, unrehabilitated raider free.’
‘Doc Preston at Rivet City can probably cure her addiction at least’ Emaline told him. ‘He’s got some great medical gear’ she said. ‘Fix your hand up properly too.’
‘Hey I don’t want to be clean, I just want some Jet’ Dreamer said hurriedly.
‘You don’t get a say’ Allison told her before Coyle could.
‘Be cheaper to drown her in the Potomac’ Coyle noted. ‘Alright, alright we’ll go with the other plan’ he said when Allison scowled at him.
‘I think the caravan just arrived’ Sydney called out from the lower deck where she had been talking to Tobar about all the relics that might be found in Point Lookout.
‘Great!’ Coyle said happily. There was still plenty of time before sundown so hopefully Tobar would ferry them to Rivet City now instead of insisting on waiting until the next morning.
‘You know I’ve never been sailing before’ Allison said brightly.
‘It’s a paddle-steamer, no sails’ Coyle pointed out. ‘And it’s not exactly a cruise or anything’ he said.
‘It’s still fun’ Allison continued, her enthusiasm unabashed. ‘Do you think we could go down to Point Lookout ourselves one day?’ she asked. ‘Tobar said there was an old amusement park and everything.’
Coyle chuckled. ‘I’m not here on vacation.’
‘But it would be nice to go somewhere where we didn’t get into gunfights all the time for once’ Allison wheedled. ‘And we can explore, you like that kind of thing.’
‘I’ll think about it’ Coyle told her. Maybe it would be nice to get away from it all for a while after properly scouting the Capital Wasteland, he thought to himself.
The Duchess Gambit had definitely seen better days but it didn’t let on water and the paddles propelled it up to a decent speed once it cast off from the riverboat landing and Tobar set course for their destination.
Nearing the beached aircraft carrier now known as Rivet City, the most population township in the Capital Wasteland it seemed, Coyle first registered it was broken into two uneven pieces and then noticed there was still aircraft lying up on the flight deck.
‘I guess they stripped any parts worth selling from those jets years ago’ Coyle reasoned.
‘Jet, did you mention Jet?’ Dreamer said, suddenly paying attention after spending the last ten minutes wallowing in self-pity.
‘I mean the jets up on the carrier you stoner’ Coyle explained, pointing at them.
‘Where?’ Dreamer said, trying to see what he was talking about.
Coyle had taken his sunglasses back from Dreamer some time ago and when he looked at her now he immediately spotted that she seemed to be squinting her eyes.
‘Nearly there’ Tobar called out. ‘I’ll have to sail right past her and then put into shore to let you off’ he said. ‘Sorry if you get wet feet’ he apologised. ‘I can’t run the Duchess up onto dry land’ he said. ‘It’ll tear up her hull.’
‘We can throw the armour ashore, wade there ourselves’ Sydney suggested as they neared the old carrier, a few people now watching the paddle steamer approach from up on the flight deck.
When they arrived, only a few dozen yards past Rivet City, Coyle jumped off the Duchess Gambit First to check the depth of the water and finding it only went to his knees he told the others it was okay before wading to shore and starting to catch the raider armour Emaline began throwing to him. Even after leaving some of it behind when they had fought the raiders from the library there were still sixteen sets in decent condition, which would hopefully fetch perhaps nearly a thousand caps between them, and that had certainly been worth hauling it all to the ferry.
The mixed collection of firearms and bladed weapons the raiders had been toting had not been in good condition but by stripping some for parts and cleaning a few more Sydney reckoned she could get another twelve-hundred for them if only because she occasionally helped out the two arms merchants in the city with gun repairs. Not wanting to throw them too for fear of damage they had put them all in a hessian sack which Coyle now waded back out to take from Sydney who passed it down to him from the boat.
After taking the sack of weapons ashore and putting it on top of the pile of armour and then retrieving his heavy rucksack which Allison and Dreamer together passed to him Coyle decided to play gentleman and offered to carry any of the ladies from the boat to dry land themselves. Sydney laughed and just jumped into the shallow water, as did Emaline, but Allison took him up on the offer.
Dreamer waited on the Duchess until she realised Coyle clearly wasn’t going to carry her too and so after Tobar waved his magnum revolver at her in a less that subtle indication she had to get the hell off his boat she ended up with wet socks and boots full of irradiated water like most of the others.
Laden down with their various baggage and with Sydney leading the way the small party trudged along the quayside towards the entrance to Rivet City. Tobar waved them off as he put the riverboat in reverse and headed back out into deeper water, also calling out a final reminder to tell their friends about Punga Fruit and his ferry service to Point Lookout.
‘Did you pass on that message from Grandma Sparkle?’ Allison suddenly remembered.
‘Yeah but he didn’t seem too happy about giving her that good of a deal on the fruit because he’s got other customers he thinks will pay more’ Coyle replied. ‘Stay where I can see you Dreamer’ he warned the raider.
‘If I wasn’t carrying all this shit I’d be giving you the finger’ Dreamer responded from beneath the pile of raider armour piled on top of her.
An open metal tower made of girders with ramps running up the inside of it provided the way to get into the city. At the top Sydney pressed a button on an intercom and talked to someone on the Aircraft Carrier who immediately recognised her voice and started a crane which swung a gangway over to them. ‘Comes with its own moat courtesy of the Potomac’ Coyle noted, also checking out the armed guards over on the other side.
‘Raiders used to try and attack the city but they never had a chance of taking it’ Sydney told him. ‘Super Mutants have tried too but Rivet City Security is packing plenty of hardware and they’ve even got an old Combat Robot as backup’ she said.
‘Not like they could sink the ship any more than it is already’ Coyle joked. The bow and stern sections of the Aircraft Carrier were both resting on the bottom only a couple of dozen yards from dry land.
‘They keep watch on the whole area from up there on the bridge’ Emaline added herself.
‘High ground is important’ Coyle agreed, looking up at the control tower of the rusty vessel. Unless you had artillery or outnumbered the inhabitants to an absurd degree it would clearly be a bitch to try and storm this place he decided.
Once the gangway swung into position they trooped across being stopped at the other side by a woman wearing black combat armour and a helmet with a clear plexiglass visor. ‘Friends of your Syd?’ she asked the gunsmith come Relic-Hunter querying the identity of Coyle and his companions.
‘Only met them earlier today but they saved my ass and Emaline’s from a big bunch of pissed-off raiders’ Sydney replied. ‘I’ll vouch for them if you want’ she said. ‘Coyle, Allison this is Lana Danvers, she’s second-in-command of Security Here.’
‘Get all that armour from the raiders I guess?’ Danvers asked.
‘They weren’t using it any more’ Coyle replied sardonically.
‘I guessed that from the fact they wouldn’t run around naked by choice and some of it having even more holes and blood on it than you’d expect from raider gear’ Danvers responded with a wry smile of her own. ‘If you want to sell it on tonight you’d better get a move-on because the market closes at eight o’clock’ she advised.
Approaching closing time the Rivet City Market was less bustling than normal with some of the storekeepers already starting to close up shop but the arms merchants, who were perhaps just a tad too appropriately named “Flak” and “Shrapnel”, were still willing to trade perhaps because in their line of work it paid to keep things sweet with a gunsmith like Sydney.
Keeping away from the deals being made, letting Sydney handle the bartering herself, Coyle found himself idly checking their inventory of weapons and it was more impressive than he would have expected with a good collection of firearms and explosives in varying degrees of condition. They didn’t have much ammunition for his FN-FAL however, Coyle had asked Sydney to include any 7.62x51mm or .308 Winchester they had as part of the deal but they had little in stock, so taking the custom R91 off Sydney’s hands definitely looked like it was a good decision so far.
Moving away from the arms on display Coyle turned around. ‘Don’t let Dreamer near the drugstore, she might try and swipe some Jet’ he instructed Allison who was watching their prisoner.
‘She’ll regret it if she does’ a tall man in Rivet City Security uniform interjected in a serious tone. ‘I’m Harkness he told Coyle. ‘Chief of Security here’ he said. ‘I like to greet visitors, especially ones wearing Combat Armour and carrying hardware like that.’ he said, indicating the FN-FAL slung on Coyle’s back.
‘Name’s Coyle’ the NCR soldier informed the man. ‘We won’t cause you any trouble it’s just that Dreamer there is a jet addict and it’s best not to let her get in the way of temptation before we can get her clean’ he said.
Harkness nodded. ‘The Doc here should be able to sort that tomorrow’ he replied. ‘Clinic will be closing now but he opens up early.’
‘So I’ve been told before but thanks for the advice anyway’ Coyle responded, there was something not quite right about the man but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The cold, hard eyes reminded him of the thousand-yard-stare of a man who’d seen a little too much action so maybe Harkness was just harbouring a little PTSD he wondered. ‘You seem to have a lot of guards working for you and their gear isn’t so shabby either’ he noted.
‘This is a nice community’ Harkness told Coyle. ‘As long as you don’t cause any trouble then Security will keep off your back so don’t go thinking Rivet City is some authoritarian hellhole like most places, we’re governed by popular consent with an elected Council and everything’ he said. ‘Mostly my job isn’t keeping people down, it’s keeping murdering assholes out.’
Coyle smiled. ‘I’ve no problem with a democracy having plenty of firepower to keep itself that way’ he told Harkness.
‘If you’re going to be staying here a while, or even just overnight, you can get a room at the Weatherly Hotel on the Upper Deck’ Harkness suggested. ‘I don’t think you’d be best advised to venture out again and leave the city after it turns dark’ he warned. ‘I had word earlier that a bunch of Super Mutants are building some kind of fort or something not too far from here and they like to go patrolling after dark looking for fresh meat.’
‘Thought I might spend a few days here anyway, I’ll find that hotel you suggested and book myself in once Sydney closes the deal we’ve got going with Flak and Shrapnel there’ he said, half-nodding towards the two arms dealers who were still loudly thrashing out the price they were willing to pay for the raider armour with Sydney.
‘They’re mean, and they don’t have the best manner with the customers, but they’re fair or I wouldn’t let them carry on business here’ Harkness replied. ‘Guess I’ll see you around then’ he said. ‘I’d best be on my way’ the Security Chief told him, giving him a nod of acknowledgement which Coyle returned before he walked away.
Emaline had gone off to tell Abraham Washington that she and Sydney had failed to retrieve the books he had asked them to recover and she returned just as Sydney closed the deal with Flak who was the friendlier of the two arms-merchants if not by much. After splitting the money, deducting the value of Coyle’s expensive ammunition purchase and then giving Sydney the agreed price for “Wanda” Coyle and Allison were still left with several hundred caps.
‘You two staying at the hotel as well?’ Coyle asked Sydney and Emaline.
‘No, Washington let’s us crash on a couple of fold-out cots at his museum when we’re here’ Sydney replied. ‘If you’re going to be at the bar later you’ll probably find us there’ she said, jangling her bag of caps.
‘It’s been a long day, I might just get an early night tonight’ Coyle replied. ‘Most likely be propping up the bar tomorrow night though’ he added.
‘Us too again most likely’ Sydney told him. ‘No point in having money if you can’t enjoy it’ she said. Half the cash she had earned today would go towards the stake she was putting together to go into business, buying and selling ammunition most likely given her contacts, but the rest would mean she could have fun for the next few weeks.
‘She only keeps me around to help her out in fights and carry her home when she’d drunk’ Emaline stated, always amused by her friends hedonistic streak.
‘Could be worse’ Allison commiserated. ‘Sometimes I think he only keeps me around to laugh at his unfunny jokes’ she told the redhead. ‘Even worse, plenty of them are at my expense’ she complained.
Coyle shook his head. ‘That’s not true’ he denied the accusation firmly. ‘I also keep you around because I’m shallow and you look great in that outfit’ he told Allison, giving her bare midriff, tight leather pants and low-cut top ensemble a lengthy and dramatically exaggerated look of appraisal and obvious approval.
Allison had reached the point where she wasn’t always going to blush when he said something like that so she smirked instead. ‘You can look but you can’t touch’ she told him.
‘And she wonders why ever since we met I keep shooting people in front of her’ Coyle said, feigning sadness. ‘It’s the unresolved sexual tension woman’ he told her, trying to sound earnest and sincere but not quite managing it.
‘Thanks for letting me know’ Allison replied. ‘I might just go and buy some lingerie from that other store over there because I guess if I did by the end of next month there wouldn’t be a raider alive from here to The Pitt’ she theorised.
Sydney and Emaline looked at each other for a moment. ‘That could be seen as either abject cruelty and attempted genocide or an act of public service I’m not sure which’ Sydney told Allison eventually.
‘Not so long ago she was a wastelander wearing not much more than rags, with a broken rifle and the worst spear-throwing technique this side of Ronto’ Coyle said incredulously. ‘After travelling with me for a little while she’s turned into some kind of machiavellian schemer taunting me with her feminine wiles while she plots to decimate the Capital Wasteland for the greater good in some utilitarian slaughter using me as the instrument of bloody mayhem.’
Allison didn’t understand half of what he was talking about but the overall message was still fairly comprehensible. ‘Maybe you just bring these things out in people?’ she suggested, giggling.
Coyle frowned. That might explain why so much of his military career had consisted of being sent on solo-missions to the back-of-beyond, maybe the officers were cleverer than he had ever thought and they were deliberately keeping him away from other people for a good reason? He had been voted “Most likely to start WWIV by accident” in his high school yearbook after all.
Nah, couldn’t be, Coyle decided. There was no way in hell that the NCR Officer Corps were in any way smart or the Republic would be invading Arizona right now instead of waiting for the Legion to come to them. ‘See you tomorrow’ he told Sydney and Emaline. ‘Let’s find that hotel’ he said to Allison. ‘We’ll let the porter carry our bags up.’
‘The porter being me’ Dreamer quickly surmised, already sick of carrying his fucking rucksack and anything else they sought to burden her with.
Coyle grinned. ‘And they say Jet rots the mind’ he quipped.
‘If I was really a porter I’d get a tip’ Dreamer muttered.
‘Here’s a good tip, don’t piss me off’ Coyle advised her as they headed for the door that was signposted as the main stairwell.
‘I was going to say that!’ Allison exclaimed. ‘Oh no, I think your sense of humour is rubbing off on me’ she said in horror. ‘And don’t say there’s something else you’d rather rub off on me’ she told him sternly.
Coyle frowned again. ‘Okay, new rule’ he said. ‘You don’t speak ill of my family, my country or my singing and you don’t steal my material either... especially before I’ve had the chance to even say it alright?’ he told her sternly.
‘You’re not the boss of me’ Allison replied.
‘Yes I am, I pay you’ Coyle reminded her, opening the hatch and stepping through with Allison following.
Allison pursed her lips. ‘Well then... I want a raise’ she told him.
‘Price yourself out of the job and one of these days you’re going to wake up and I’ll have given it to Dreamer there’ Coyle warned her. ‘Try and buck the market and the market will buck you’ he said.
‘Good, then when that happens she can carry the fucking luggage’ Dreamer complained, trying to fit through the hatch with Coyle’s rucksack and a couple of other bags making that difficult.
Allison helped the other girl get through the hatch. ‘I’ll talk him into letting you go once you’re off the drugs’ she whispered.
‘Don’t want to risk really getting replaced?’ Dreamer replied, smugly. ‘If you don’t put out he won’t keep you around forever.’
‘I’m only working for him until he gets me to Canterbury Commons’ Allison told the raider.
Dreamer smirked. ‘Bullshit, you want him bad but you want to keep him so you’ll only fuck him after you get some commitment or shit because you think screwing a guy so you can live off his money makes you better than a girl that screws a guy for the money directly.’
Allison’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re a bitch’ she declared.
‘I live in the real world’ Dreamer retorted.
Coyle coughed to interrupt them, they had got louder and louder and their voices increasingly angry in tone drawing his attention. ‘If this is going to escalate into a fight I’d rather you wait until we get to the hotel room and you can both strip down while I go find some Jell-O’ he said, chuckling to himself before heading up the stairs.
‘What the fuck do you see in him anyway?’ Dreamer wanted to know. She knew that she wasn’t perhaps an unbiased judge of the man considering how they had met but it was hard to see the appeal unless your type was gunslinging jerks with random mood swings and a big ego.
‘He just needs...’ Allison began to reply then paused as she searched for the right word. ‘Domesticating’ she said. ‘You know, breaking in a little’ she added.
‘You’d be better off getting him fixed’ Dreamer opined.
----------
Note from the Author:
Tobar, the owner and captain of the riverboat Duchess Gambit, operates out of the riverboat landing in Arlington some way past the Pentagon. He imports Punga Fruit to the Capital Wasteland from Point Lookout and also ferries passengers there for a price. Geographically there isn't any reason why he couldn't run you over to Rivet City but you can't actually do that in the game.
Rivet City, an old aircraft carrier, is the largest settlement in the area. It has a market with several stores including "Flak 'N Shrapnel's" which sells weaponry and usually has a good selection on offer.
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XIII
Potomac River – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
Tobar, owner and Captain of the Duchess Gambit put on his most winning smile and persuasive tone of voice. ‘Are you sure I couldn’t interest you in an exciting journey of adventure to the mysterious Point Lookout?’ he asked the stranger again.
‘No we just want to get to Rivet City like I told you the last four times’ Sydney interrupted before the increasingly annoyed looking Coyle punched Tobar on the nose.
‘And I can’t interest you in purchasing some more delicious Punga Fruit?’ Tobar checked.
‘We’ve already bought half a sack full of the damn things and we’ve given you twenty-five caps to take us across the river so can we please just get going?’ Coyle requested impatiently.
‘We’ll get underway as soon as the caravan arrives to pick up my cargo’ Tobar told him, indicating the crates of both refined and wild punga fruit which now sat on the wooden dock waiting to be collected. ‘They’re due any time now’ he promised.
‘You said that an hour ago’ Coyle complained. ‘It’ll be getting dark by the time we arrive if they don’t get here soon’ he noted, checking his watch and then looking up into the sky.
Tobar shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t be risking the Duchess sailing close to shore risking hidden rocks in the dark’ he said. ‘We might have to wait until dawn’ he announced. ‘Of course back in the days when she was in better repair and we regularly sailed the coast as far north as the Institute...’
‘And as far south as the Broken Banks...’ Sydney interrupted, having heard Tobar’s tales of the sea more than a few times before. The last time she had been on the ferry she had been delivering a number of small glass jars he had asked her to source for him. She didn’t manage to get a straight answer when she asked what he wanted them for though.
‘Indeed’ Tobar confirmed, nodding. ‘Well in those days I wouldn’t have feared but her timbers these days are more fragile’ he said sadly.
‘You know what’ Coyle said, deciding to just accept the situation and not get any more wound up about it. ‘I’ll just go up top and chill out with a Nuka Cola’ he decided, remembering he had a few in his rucksack.
‘A slice of punga fruit in a glass of Nuka Cola adds a new dimension to the flavour’ Tobar called after him as Coyle headed for the stairs up to the upper deck of the old riverboat.
‘Why am I not surprised’ Coyle said to himself, rolling his eyes as he stomped up the wooden steps. ‘Tobar had already previously claimed that the fruit was high in vitamins, good for an upset stomach, a proven aphrodisiac and lowered your radiation.
Already on the top deck and sitting on one of the wooden bench seats up there Allison was looking out over the river towards the Jefferson Memorial. ‘Do you want some fruit?’ she asked Coyle, the sack of punga they had purchased sat next to her on the bench.
‘Not right now’ Coyle replied, heading for where he had earlier dumped his rucksack and opening it. ‘Give one to Dreamer if she wants it’ he told his guide, looking across to where the raider girl was sat on another bench herself staring into space.
‘I already did’ Allison replied before smiling at him. ‘Nice of you to think of it though’ she said.
‘Moment of weakness’ Coyle responded before finding a bottle of Nuka Cola in his bag, twisting off the cap and taking a swig with satisfaction. ‘Ahh, I needed that’ he said, finding a spot to sit down himself and taking off his helmet.
Allison yawned and stretched. ‘I was talking to Tobar earlier while you were discussing rifles with Sydney...’ she began.
‘Did he sell you any more fruit?’ Coyle asked.
‘No but he tried’ Allison replied, laughing. ‘He said there used to be a lot more boats passing this way bringing in food and trading for salvage from the city but times are hard these days, what with more and more raiders and super-mutants, so sometimes Rivet City can go weeks or even months without getting supplies.’
‘Profit margins not good enough’ Coyle reasoned.
‘He said that the Commonwealth has more to offer in trade so the boats which can make the journey bringing goods from further south go there instead’ Allison told him.
Coyle took another mouthful of Nuka Cola. ‘What do you know about the Institute?’ he asked.
‘Not much’ Allison admitted. ‘Pa used to say that folks he met said the Institute was a source of wonders’ she said. ‘Gadgets such as even the Brotherhood didn’t have.’
‘Got to be MIT’ Coyle reasoned. ‘If they had their own bunker they might have made it through the Great War and they would have had a lot of very smart people.’
‘MIT?’ Allison asked.
‘Massachusetts Institute of Technology’ Coyle told her. ‘Pity Caltech didn’t survive too or the NCR would own everything to the Mississippi by now’ he said regretfully. ‘Might have to go up there and take a look-see after I’ve properly looked around this place’ he thought aloud.
Allison appraised Coyle, not for the first time by any means. ‘Sometimes it seems like you know an awful lot about most everything’ she told him.
‘I used to read a lot, my father encouraged me because he was worried my Mom’s influence would mean I’d end up ignorant of everything but spear-throwing’ Coyle told her. ‘I do throw a mean spear though’ he said, smiling.
‘You said before your Pa was from a Vault and your Ma was a tribal’ Allison recalled.
‘My home town was founded by two groups, one tribal one straight out of Vault 13’ Coyle explained. ‘They tried to marry off between them to help tie everyone together’ he said. ‘I was one of the first products that came out of the experiment you might say’ he continued. ‘It was clearly an overwhelming success as you can testify.’
‘Yeah, right’ Dreamer observed sarcastically.
‘Not under oath I couldn’t either’ Allison told him, trying to keep a straight face.
Coyle gave Allison a look of displeasure. ‘Et tu, Brute? as they say in Legion territory’ he complained.
‘How old are you?’ Allison queried, realising she wasn’t sure.
‘I turned thirty-three a couple of months back’ Coyle replied.
Allison looked a little surprised. ‘I thought you were younger than that’ she told him. ‘I mean you look younger.’
‘I probably had a better diet growing up than most people you’ve met’ Coyle told her. ‘Better access to general medical care and anti-radiation drugs too.’
‘I’m coming up on nineteen’ Allison decided to tell him.
‘About what I thought’ Coyle replied.
‘I’m twenty-two’ Dreamer announced.
‘Nobody asked’ Coyle responded flatly.
‘You didn’t ask her either’ Dreamer pointed out.
‘I like her’ Coyle retorted. ‘So shouldn’t a Blue Ridge Mountain Gal like yourself be married with half-a-dozen kids by now?’ he asked Allison.
‘I was betrothed to someone but he died’ Allison replied. ‘Didn’t really know him too well, it was just something my folks arranged with a family from the next valley over’ she said. ‘When I lost my Pa and my brothers I had to get the job at the bar I told you about to keep myself and then because everyone thought that all the girls there went with the customers, and I had no big dowry or nothing neither, nobody else seemed to want my hand.’
‘I’ll bet plenty wanted the rest of you though’ Coyle surmised.
Allison blushed. ‘Had a boyfriend I thought was going to take me away, he said he would, but he just left one day and never came back’ she said. ‘I heard he shacked up with a young widow that owned a farm.’
Coyle finished off his Nuka Cola and pocketing the bottlecap threw the empty bottle off into the Potomac. ‘He must have been a lucky bastard to get you in the first place and a stupid one for letting you go’ he said chivalrously.
‘That’s real sweet of you to say’ Allison told him, beaming.
Dreamer snorted with derision. ‘Shit, after listening to that I’m queasier than ever’ she muttered.
‘I’ve still got one hand I can slap you with that won’t hurt me when I do’ Coyle warned the raider.
‘Like hitting women do you?’ Emaline’s voice interrupted them. She had been on the lower deck sorting through the heap of raider armour they had carried to the Ferry but she must have finished the task.
‘In the same way as I like hitting men’ Coyle replied. ‘Only when they deserve it’ he said.
Emaline was directing a suspicious, mildly hostile gaze at Coyle which was hard to ignore. ‘Cassidy doesn’t beat us or anything if that’s what you think’ Allison told her quickly.
‘That’s what... someone I used to know used to tell people when they asked her about the bruises she was wearing’ Emaline replied, unconvinced.
‘He takes a strap to my back all the time’ Dreamer declared. ‘He beat me so bad day before last I could hardly straighten up.’
‘Ignore her, she’s just playing you after sensing an opportunity to get away’ Coyle advised Emaline.
‘Says you’ Emaline responded curtly, wondering if she should call Sydney up here as backup.
‘Just lift the back of the shirt she’s got on and see for yourself’ Allison suggested.
Dreamer grimaced, should have thought further ahead there she thought. The Jet withdrawal wasn’t aiding her thought processes. ‘I heal fast, the cuts and bruises might be all gone’ she said quickly.
‘Okay, now my bullshit detector is going off like an oversensitive Geiger-Counter’ a now distrustful Emaline told Dreamer.
‘It was worth a try’ Dreamer said dejectedly.
‘What are you going to do with her anyway?’ Emaline asked Coyle and Allison, they had previously explained she was a captured raider.
‘I guess we’ll come up with an idea we can both agree on eventually’ Coyle replied with a shrug.
‘If you handed her over to Rivet City Security they might just shoot her’ Emaline said. ‘The Regulators would for sure.’
Coyle sighed. ‘I won’t sell her, slavery goes against the grain, and Little Miss Conscience from the Blue Ridge there isn’t go to go along with us killing her or letting someone else do it so we’re stuck with her for now’ he said. ‘I can’t let a drug-addicted, unrehabilitated raider free.’
‘Doc Preston at Rivet City can probably cure her addiction at least’ Emaline told him. ‘He’s got some great medical gear’ she said. ‘Fix your hand up properly too.’
‘Hey I don’t want to be clean, I just want some Jet’ Dreamer said hurriedly.
‘You don’t get a say’ Allison told her before Coyle could.
‘Be cheaper to drown her in the Potomac’ Coyle noted. ‘Alright, alright we’ll go with the other plan’ he said when Allison scowled at him.
‘I think the caravan just arrived’ Sydney called out from the lower deck where she had been talking to Tobar about all the relics that might be found in Point Lookout.
‘Great!’ Coyle said happily. There was still plenty of time before sundown so hopefully Tobar would ferry them to Rivet City now instead of insisting on waiting until the next morning.
‘You know I’ve never been sailing before’ Allison said brightly.
‘It’s a paddle-steamer, no sails’ Coyle pointed out. ‘And it’s not exactly a cruise or anything’ he said.
‘It’s still fun’ Allison continued, her enthusiasm unabashed. ‘Do you think we could go down to Point Lookout ourselves one day?’ she asked. ‘Tobar said there was an old amusement park and everything.’
Coyle chuckled. ‘I’m not here on vacation.’
‘But it would be nice to go somewhere where we didn’t get into gunfights all the time for once’ Allison wheedled. ‘And we can explore, you like that kind of thing.’
‘I’ll think about it’ Coyle told her. Maybe it would be nice to get away from it all for a while after properly scouting the Capital Wasteland, he thought to himself.
The Duchess Gambit had definitely seen better days but it didn’t let on water and the paddles propelled it up to a decent speed once it cast off from the riverboat landing and Tobar set course for their destination.
Nearing the beached aircraft carrier now known as Rivet City, the most population township in the Capital Wasteland it seemed, Coyle first registered it was broken into two uneven pieces and then noticed there was still aircraft lying up on the flight deck.
‘I guess they stripped any parts worth selling from those jets years ago’ Coyle reasoned.
‘Jet, did you mention Jet?’ Dreamer said, suddenly paying attention after spending the last ten minutes wallowing in self-pity.
‘I mean the jets up on the carrier you stoner’ Coyle explained, pointing at them.
‘Where?’ Dreamer said, trying to see what he was talking about.
Coyle had taken his sunglasses back from Dreamer some time ago and when he looked at her now he immediately spotted that she seemed to be squinting her eyes.
‘Nearly there’ Tobar called out. ‘I’ll have to sail right past her and then put into shore to let you off’ he said. ‘Sorry if you get wet feet’ he apologised. ‘I can’t run the Duchess up onto dry land’ he said. ‘It’ll tear up her hull.’
‘We can throw the armour ashore, wade there ourselves’ Sydney suggested as they neared the old carrier, a few people now watching the paddle steamer approach from up on the flight deck.
When they arrived, only a few dozen yards past Rivet City, Coyle jumped off the Duchess Gambit First to check the depth of the water and finding it only went to his knees he told the others it was okay before wading to shore and starting to catch the raider armour Emaline began throwing to him. Even after leaving some of it behind when they had fought the raiders from the library there were still sixteen sets in decent condition, which would hopefully fetch perhaps nearly a thousand caps between them, and that had certainly been worth hauling it all to the ferry.
The mixed collection of firearms and bladed weapons the raiders had been toting had not been in good condition but by stripping some for parts and cleaning a few more Sydney reckoned she could get another twelve-hundred for them if only because she occasionally helped out the two arms merchants in the city with gun repairs. Not wanting to throw them too for fear of damage they had put them all in a hessian sack which Coyle now waded back out to take from Sydney who passed it down to him from the boat.
After taking the sack of weapons ashore and putting it on top of the pile of armour and then retrieving his heavy rucksack which Allison and Dreamer together passed to him Coyle decided to play gentleman and offered to carry any of the ladies from the boat to dry land themselves. Sydney laughed and just jumped into the shallow water, as did Emaline, but Allison took him up on the offer.
Dreamer waited on the Duchess until she realised Coyle clearly wasn’t going to carry her too and so after Tobar waved his magnum revolver at her in a less that subtle indication she had to get the hell off his boat she ended up with wet socks and boots full of irradiated water like most of the others.
Laden down with their various baggage and with Sydney leading the way the small party trudged along the quayside towards the entrance to Rivet City. Tobar waved them off as he put the riverboat in reverse and headed back out into deeper water, also calling out a final reminder to tell their friends about Punga Fruit and his ferry service to Point Lookout.
‘Did you pass on that message from Grandma Sparkle?’ Allison suddenly remembered.
‘Yeah but he didn’t seem too happy about giving her that good of a deal on the fruit because he’s got other customers he thinks will pay more’ Coyle replied. ‘Stay where I can see you Dreamer’ he warned the raider.
‘If I wasn’t carrying all this shit I’d be giving you the finger’ Dreamer responded from beneath the pile of raider armour piled on top of her.
An open metal tower made of girders with ramps running up the inside of it provided the way to get into the city. At the top Sydney pressed a button on an intercom and talked to someone on the Aircraft Carrier who immediately recognised her voice and started a crane which swung a gangway over to them. ‘Comes with its own moat courtesy of the Potomac’ Coyle noted, also checking out the armed guards over on the other side.
‘Raiders used to try and attack the city but they never had a chance of taking it’ Sydney told him. ‘Super Mutants have tried too but Rivet City Security is packing plenty of hardware and they’ve even got an old Combat Robot as backup’ she said.
‘Not like they could sink the ship any more than it is already’ Coyle joked. The bow and stern sections of the Aircraft Carrier were both resting on the bottom only a couple of dozen yards from dry land.
‘They keep watch on the whole area from up there on the bridge’ Emaline added herself.
‘High ground is important’ Coyle agreed, looking up at the control tower of the rusty vessel. Unless you had artillery or outnumbered the inhabitants to an absurd degree it would clearly be a bitch to try and storm this place he decided.
Once the gangway swung into position they trooped across being stopped at the other side by a woman wearing black combat armour and a helmet with a clear plexiglass visor. ‘Friends of your Syd?’ she asked the gunsmith come Relic-Hunter querying the identity of Coyle and his companions.
‘Only met them earlier today but they saved my ass and Emaline’s from a big bunch of pissed-off raiders’ Sydney replied. ‘I’ll vouch for them if you want’ she said. ‘Coyle, Allison this is Lana Danvers, she’s second-in-command of Security Here.’
‘Get all that armour from the raiders I guess?’ Danvers asked.
‘They weren’t using it any more’ Coyle replied sardonically.
‘I guessed that from the fact they wouldn’t run around naked by choice and some of it having even more holes and blood on it than you’d expect from raider gear’ Danvers responded with a wry smile of her own. ‘If you want to sell it on tonight you’d better get a move-on because the market closes at eight o’clock’ she advised.
Approaching closing time the Rivet City Market was less bustling than normal with some of the storekeepers already starting to close up shop but the arms merchants, who were perhaps just a tad too appropriately named “Flak” and “Shrapnel”, were still willing to trade perhaps because in their line of work it paid to keep things sweet with a gunsmith like Sydney.
Keeping away from the deals being made, letting Sydney handle the bartering herself, Coyle found himself idly checking their inventory of weapons and it was more impressive than he would have expected with a good collection of firearms and explosives in varying degrees of condition. They didn’t have much ammunition for his FN-FAL however, Coyle had asked Sydney to include any 7.62x51mm or .308 Winchester they had as part of the deal but they had little in stock, so taking the custom R91 off Sydney’s hands definitely looked like it was a good decision so far.
Moving away from the arms on display Coyle turned around. ‘Don’t let Dreamer near the drugstore, she might try and swipe some Jet’ he instructed Allison who was watching their prisoner.
‘She’ll regret it if she does’ a tall man in Rivet City Security uniform interjected in a serious tone. ‘I’m Harkness he told Coyle. ‘Chief of Security here’ he said. ‘I like to greet visitors, especially ones wearing Combat Armour and carrying hardware like that.’ he said, indicating the FN-FAL slung on Coyle’s back.
‘Name’s Coyle’ the NCR soldier informed the man. ‘We won’t cause you any trouble it’s just that Dreamer there is a jet addict and it’s best not to let her get in the way of temptation before we can get her clean’ he said.
Harkness nodded. ‘The Doc here should be able to sort that tomorrow’ he replied. ‘Clinic will be closing now but he opens up early.’
‘So I’ve been told before but thanks for the advice anyway’ Coyle responded, there was something not quite right about the man but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The cold, hard eyes reminded him of the thousand-yard-stare of a man who’d seen a little too much action so maybe Harkness was just harbouring a little PTSD he wondered. ‘You seem to have a lot of guards working for you and their gear isn’t so shabby either’ he noted.
‘This is a nice community’ Harkness told Coyle. ‘As long as you don’t cause any trouble then Security will keep off your back so don’t go thinking Rivet City is some authoritarian hellhole like most places, we’re governed by popular consent with an elected Council and everything’ he said. ‘Mostly my job isn’t keeping people down, it’s keeping murdering assholes out.’
Coyle smiled. ‘I’ve no problem with a democracy having plenty of firepower to keep itself that way’ he told Harkness.
‘If you’re going to be staying here a while, or even just overnight, you can get a room at the Weatherly Hotel on the Upper Deck’ Harkness suggested. ‘I don’t think you’d be best advised to venture out again and leave the city after it turns dark’ he warned. ‘I had word earlier that a bunch of Super Mutants are building some kind of fort or something not too far from here and they like to go patrolling after dark looking for fresh meat.’
‘Thought I might spend a few days here anyway, I’ll find that hotel you suggested and book myself in once Sydney closes the deal we’ve got going with Flak and Shrapnel there’ he said, half-nodding towards the two arms dealers who were still loudly thrashing out the price they were willing to pay for the raider armour with Sydney.
‘They’re mean, and they don’t have the best manner with the customers, but they’re fair or I wouldn’t let them carry on business here’ Harkness replied. ‘Guess I’ll see you around then’ he said. ‘I’d best be on my way’ the Security Chief told him, giving him a nod of acknowledgement which Coyle returned before he walked away.
Emaline had gone off to tell Abraham Washington that she and Sydney had failed to retrieve the books he had asked them to recover and she returned just as Sydney closed the deal with Flak who was the friendlier of the two arms-merchants if not by much. After splitting the money, deducting the value of Coyle’s expensive ammunition purchase and then giving Sydney the agreed price for “Wanda” Coyle and Allison were still left with several hundred caps.
‘You two staying at the hotel as well?’ Coyle asked Sydney and Emaline.
‘No, Washington let’s us crash on a couple of fold-out cots at his museum when we’re here’ Sydney replied. ‘If you’re going to be at the bar later you’ll probably find us there’ she said, jangling her bag of caps.
‘It’s been a long day, I might just get an early night tonight’ Coyle replied. ‘Most likely be propping up the bar tomorrow night though’ he added.
‘Us too again most likely’ Sydney told him. ‘No point in having money if you can’t enjoy it’ she said. Half the cash she had earned today would go towards the stake she was putting together to go into business, buying and selling ammunition most likely given her contacts, but the rest would mean she could have fun for the next few weeks.
‘She only keeps me around to help her out in fights and carry her home when she’d drunk’ Emaline stated, always amused by her friends hedonistic streak.
‘Could be worse’ Allison commiserated. ‘Sometimes I think he only keeps me around to laugh at his unfunny jokes’ she told the redhead. ‘Even worse, plenty of them are at my expense’ she complained.
Coyle shook his head. ‘That’s not true’ he denied the accusation firmly. ‘I also keep you around because I’m shallow and you look great in that outfit’ he told Allison, giving her bare midriff, tight leather pants and low-cut top ensemble a lengthy and dramatically exaggerated look of appraisal and obvious approval.
Allison had reached the point where she wasn’t always going to blush when he said something like that so she smirked instead. ‘You can look but you can’t touch’ she told him.
‘And she wonders why ever since we met I keep shooting people in front of her’ Coyle said, feigning sadness. ‘It’s the unresolved sexual tension woman’ he told her, trying to sound earnest and sincere but not quite managing it.
‘Thanks for letting me know’ Allison replied. ‘I might just go and buy some lingerie from that other store over there because I guess if I did by the end of next month there wouldn’t be a raider alive from here to The Pitt’ she theorised.
Sydney and Emaline looked at each other for a moment. ‘That could be seen as either abject cruelty and attempted genocide or an act of public service I’m not sure which’ Sydney told Allison eventually.
‘Not so long ago she was a wastelander wearing not much more than rags, with a broken rifle and the worst spear-throwing technique this side of Ronto’ Coyle said incredulously. ‘After travelling with me for a little while she’s turned into some kind of machiavellian schemer taunting me with her feminine wiles while she plots to decimate the Capital Wasteland for the greater good in some utilitarian slaughter using me as the instrument of bloody mayhem.’
Allison didn’t understand half of what he was talking about but the overall message was still fairly comprehensible. ‘Maybe you just bring these things out in people?’ she suggested, giggling.
Coyle frowned. That might explain why so much of his military career had consisted of being sent on solo-missions to the back-of-beyond, maybe the officers were cleverer than he had ever thought and they were deliberately keeping him away from other people for a good reason? He had been voted “Most likely to start WWIV by accident” in his high school yearbook after all.
Nah, couldn’t be, Coyle decided. There was no way in hell that the NCR Officer Corps were in any way smart or the Republic would be invading Arizona right now instead of waiting for the Legion to come to them. ‘See you tomorrow’ he told Sydney and Emaline. ‘Let’s find that hotel’ he said to Allison. ‘We’ll let the porter carry our bags up.’
‘The porter being me’ Dreamer quickly surmised, already sick of carrying his fucking rucksack and anything else they sought to burden her with.
Coyle grinned. ‘And they say Jet rots the mind’ he quipped.
‘If I was really a porter I’d get a tip’ Dreamer muttered.
‘Here’s a good tip, don’t piss me off’ Coyle advised her as they headed for the door that was signposted as the main stairwell.
‘I was going to say that!’ Allison exclaimed. ‘Oh no, I think your sense of humour is rubbing off on me’ she said in horror. ‘And don’t say there’s something else you’d rather rub off on me’ she told him sternly.
Coyle frowned again. ‘Okay, new rule’ he said. ‘You don’t speak ill of my family, my country or my singing and you don’t steal my material either... especially before I’ve had the chance to even say it alright?’ he told her sternly.
‘You’re not the boss of me’ Allison replied.
‘Yes I am, I pay you’ Coyle reminded her, opening the hatch and stepping through with Allison following.
Allison pursed her lips. ‘Well then... I want a raise’ she told him.
‘Price yourself out of the job and one of these days you’re going to wake up and I’ll have given it to Dreamer there’ Coyle warned her. ‘Try and buck the market and the market will buck you’ he said.
‘Good, then when that happens she can carry the fucking luggage’ Dreamer complained, trying to fit through the hatch with Coyle’s rucksack and a couple of other bags making that difficult.
Allison helped the other girl get through the hatch. ‘I’ll talk him into letting you go once you’re off the drugs’ she whispered.
‘Don’t want to risk really getting replaced?’ Dreamer replied, smugly. ‘If you don’t put out he won’t keep you around forever.’
‘I’m only working for him until he gets me to Canterbury Commons’ Allison told the raider.
Dreamer smirked. ‘Bullshit, you want him bad but you want to keep him so you’ll only fuck him after you get some commitment or shit because you think screwing a guy so you can live off his money makes you better than a girl that screws a guy for the money directly.’
Allison’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re a bitch’ she declared.
‘I live in the real world’ Dreamer retorted.
Coyle coughed to interrupt them, they had got louder and louder and their voices increasingly angry in tone drawing his attention. ‘If this is going to escalate into a fight I’d rather you wait until we get to the hotel room and you can both strip down while I go find some Jell-O’ he said, chuckling to himself before heading up the stairs.
‘What the fuck do you see in him anyway?’ Dreamer wanted to know. She knew that she wasn’t perhaps an unbiased judge of the man considering how they had met but it was hard to see the appeal unless your type was gunslinging jerks with random mood swings and a big ego.
‘He just needs...’ Allison began to reply then paused as she searched for the right word. ‘Domesticating’ she said. ‘You know, breaking in a little’ she added.
‘You’d be better off getting him fixed’ Dreamer opined.
----------
Note from the Author:
Tobar, the owner and captain of the riverboat Duchess Gambit, operates out of the riverboat landing in Arlington some way past the Pentagon. He imports Punga Fruit to the Capital Wasteland from Point Lookout and also ferries passengers there for a price. Geographically there isn't any reason why he couldn't run you over to Rivet City but you can't actually do that in the game.
Rivet City, an old aircraft carrier, is the largest settlement in the area. It has a market with several stores including "Flak 'N Shrapnel's" which sells weaponry and usually has a good selection on offer.
Major Talon
First time out of the vault
This is quit possibly the best Fallout fan fic I've read. Good work! 
The story continues...
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XIV
Rivet City – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
Sat on the edge of the hotel room’s double bed with Dreamer beside her Allison felt even more apprehensive than she looked as the Coyle continued to try and use his powers of persuasion to get them to go along with it. He had already dumped his armour, boots and helmet at the end of the bed and was now just wearing a T-Shirt and shorts.
‘I don’t know’ Allison told the clearly enthusiastic Coyle. ‘I mean I said I’ve never done this before’ she said nervously, twisting the bedsheets underneath her with her hands. ‘I mean maybe if it was just you and we were out in the wasteland where nobody could hear us.’
‘Come on, there’s no need to be shy’ Coyle replied. ‘Once we get going it’ll be fun’ he promised. ‘It’s not difficult, I’ve already told you it’s mostly just you and Dreamer following my lead.’
Dreamer mouthed an obscenity. ‘For crying out loud let’s just do what he wants and then he’ll leave us alone and we can get some sleep’ she implored Allison. ‘He ain’t going to quit until we do.’
‘She’s right’ Coyle agreed, nodding. ‘It’ll be awesome, I should have thought of it before.’
Allison closed her eyes for a moment. ‘Okay, but don’t either of you say anything if I’m not very good’ she requested, opening them again.
Coyle beamed and rubbed his hands together with glee, this was going to be great he thought. ‘Remember, breathing and rhythm is important’ he reminded them.
‘Just get on with it’ Dreamer told him.
‘Okay’ Coyle replied, taking a deep breath. ‘All the leaves are brown’ he sang.
‘All the leaves are brown’ Allison and Dreamer sang together in refrain.
‘And the sky is grey’ Coyle continued.
‘And the sky is grey’ the girls sang.
‘I’ve been for a walk’ Coyle sang, starting to sway a little in time to the tune as he did so.
‘I’ve been for a walk’ they sang back
‘On a winter’s day’
‘On a winter’s day’ Allison and Dreamer sang, the former starting to become a little less self-conscious.
‘I’d be safe and warm’ Coyle sang, really getting into it now.
‘I’d be safe and warm’ the girls refrained.
‘If I was in LA’ he sang.
‘If I was in LA’
‘California dreaming’
‘California dreaming’
‘On such a winter’s day’ they all sang together.
Outside in the corridor two Rivet City Security guards looked at each other in bemusement. ‘I was so expecting to be hearing something else coming out of there when he went in with those two chicks’ one told the other.
The other guard nodded. ‘They ain’t too bad though’ he decided. ‘Maybe with a little more practice’ he thought aloud as they turned and headed towards the Muddy Rudder where maybe they might have a little more excitement breaking up a bar fight or something.
Waking up the next morning Coyle found Allison cuddled up against his back as had become the norm but knew that was likely more an indication that she had propped him up on his side to stop him snoring again than a sign of anything else.
Moving his head Coyle spotted Dreamer still asleep on the metal floor where she had been placed but the blanket she was wrapped in must have been given to by Allison after he drifted off. ‘Wakey wakey rise and shine’ he said loudly, swinging his legs off the bed and forcing his companions to greet the new day as well whether they wanted to or not.
‘What time is it?’ Allison mumbled at him, rubbing her eyes. Coyle moving had pulled the sheet off her and he briefly paid rapt attention that she was wearing the T-shirt he had given her in Megaton and panties that weren’t quite as skimpy as he would have preferred but weren’t bad nonetheless.
‘It’s time to get washed up, eat breakfast and then visit the Clinic’ Coyle replied, all-too-brightly for the time of the day and forcing himself to stop eyeing up her bare legs. Better make that a cold shower, he thought.
‘Give her a dose did you?’ Dreamer asked from the floor. ‘You should always make them use protection Honey’ she advised Allison in as sarcastic a tone as she could muster before starting to cough violently. ‘I feel like shit’ she moaned.
‘You don’t smell anywhere near that good’ Coyle replied. ‘That’s why you’re going to spend longer in the shower than we are’ he informed her.
‘Fuck that’ Dreamer responded curtly, sitting up. ‘They use water from the river to wash in’ she said. ‘I don’t want to pick up any more rads’ she said seriously.
‘I’ll get the Doc to check how much radiation is in your system and if it’s high, and if you promise not to cause any trouble, I’ll have him clean it out as well as flush the drugs from your system’ Coyle told her.
‘Won’t that start getting expensive?’ Allison asked.
‘It’s only money, I can always get more’ Coyle replied.
‘You mean you can always find more raiders to shoot and sell on their stuff’ Allison responded knowingly, and not very approvingly either.
‘Yes, and firing budget ammunition from Wanda instead of dropping them with my FN-FAL the profit margin there is going to go up nicely’ Coyle told her happily. ‘We won’t be staying here as long as I thought we would I’ll say that’ he continued. ‘This room wasn’t cheap, I can see why Sydney and Emaline choose to crash in that museum place instead.’
‘The bed is so comfortable though’ Allison said, stretching out. ‘We’re going to stay here again tonight at least aren’t we?’ she asked him. ‘I mean we said we’d meet the girls at the bar later so we’ll have to right?’
‘I guess so’ Coyle replied, smiling at her.
The “Weatherly Hotel” was in reality just a few rooms off one of the main corridors with the eponymous owner Vera Weatherly renting them out to visitors. She had at least fitted the rooms out with some reasonable furniture with wardrobes, lockers and the like to hold your goods and the bed was clean and comfortable so Coyle didn’t feel too robbed by the price she charged.
Getting up completely Coyle went over to his rucksack and began searching through it. ‘Soap’ he said. ‘Soap I know I’ve got some’ he said to himself. ‘Ouch!’ he exclaimed suddenly pulling out his hand and then sucking on his finger for a second. ‘Ranger Badge with the pin facing out’ he said in annoyance, pulling the thing out of the bag and pitching it onto the bed before resuming his search.
Allison picked up the badge and looked at it. ‘Is this gold?’ she asked, turning it over in her hands.
‘The yellow metal is just brass but the silver star is real silver’ Coyle told her, now emerging from the rucksack with what he was looking for and placing a small cloth bag with a couple of bars of soap in it atop a small cupboard. ‘Hey, I think I’ve got some shampoo in here too’ he remembered resuming his rummaging through the rucksack.
‘It’s pretty’ Allison told him, putting the badge back down.
‘No it’s not its manly and authoritative’ Coyle replied, mildly indignant at that. ‘Got it’ he said finding the small bottle of shampoo. ‘Oh, herbal scented’ he noted with pleasure, reading the label.
‘You’re going to shave too aren’t you?’ Allison asked him. ‘You haven’t for a couple of days and you need too.’
‘Not a fan of the rugged look?’ Coyle asked, rubbing his chin.
‘You just look scruffy more than anything’ Allison told him honestly.
‘I’ll take your advice then’ Coyle replied, retrieving his straight razor and the leather strap he sharpened it with. ‘I think we’re probably safe leaving our stuff in here, take your ten-millimetre with you though just in case’ he told her deciding that his own magnum automatic currently under the pillow was more than enough weaponry for his own security. ‘We’ll lock the door and secure the rest of the guns and the other valuables in the footlocker’ he said, last night he had put the drugs they carried to keep them safely out of Dreamer’s hands if she got ideas after they went to sleep.
Coyle began pulling on the uniform pants of his combat armour, although not bothering to strap on the knee and shin plates that reinforced them leaving them with the heavy torso section on the floor.
‘I think I’ll buy a dress later’ Allison decided, putting on her own leather pants for now. ‘I saw dresses hanging up in that clothes store in the market yesterday.’
‘I could do with some more clothes’ Dreamer announced.
‘Nobody asked’ Coyle and Allison responded simultaneously.
After being directed to where they could get clean, Allison turning down Coyle’s magnanimous offer to help her wash her back, or anything else for that matter, they sought out the Rivet City Clinic where a brief discussion with Doctor Preston on what he charged for medical care led to Coyle deciding to try negotiating a deal.
‘Those are the set rates’ Preston told the visitors again firmly, crossing his arms in front of his white coat.
Coyle shook his head. ‘Come on you can do better than that’ he said. ‘That’s three people to scrub out the radiation from, one needing a drug problem sorting out and this needs some work’ he said, holding up his bandaged hand.
Preston sighed. ‘Alright, I’ll knock off another seventy-five caps’ he conceded.
‘Make that a hundred and throw in a free eye-test for her and we’ve got a deal’ Coyle said, holding out his hand to seal it, Preston eventually taking it after another moments indecision.
‘What do you mean an eye test?’ Dreamer wanted to know.
‘You can’t shoot for shit and you squint your eyes when you’re looking at something in the distance’ Coyle replied. ‘I think you’re nearsighted’ he told her.
‘I can see okay’ Dreamer denied.
Doctor Preston adopted a professional look. ‘If the myopia came on very gradually you might not be aware of the deterioration’ he informed her. ‘If your friend is correct I have a good selection of spectacles I’ve bought from scavengers over the years and I’ve likely got a close enough prescription to remedy the complaint’ he said. ‘I wear them myself as you can see, it’s really not a problem and they won’t stop you doing most things’ he promised. ‘Or ruin your pretty looks’ he added given it was a young woman he was addressing and she might be a little vain.
‘He is not my friend’ Dreamer responded sharply. ‘And I don’t want the eye-test or the drug treatment either’ she stated with determination.
‘Oh, well I do need consent for any procedure’ Preston told Coyle apologetically.
‘She’s a drug addict and therefore not in her right mind’ Coyle countered.
Preston thought about that. ‘I must admit that wanting to remain a drug addict is not a good indication of her reason and fitness to make an informed choice’ he reasoned.
‘Good, I’ll hold her down on the examination couch if I have to, just get on with it’ Coyle replied. ‘As for the glasses just add them to the bill if she needs them.’
‘You should be thanking him, that’s a nice thing to do’ Allison told Dreamer. ‘The glasses I mean, not the holding you down’ she added for the sake of clarity.
‘You might want to keep any scalpels out of her reach’ Coyle advised the doctor seriously.
‘I concur’ Preston agreed wholeheartedly, seeing the now murderous expression on Dreamer’s face.
Sitting down later to eat a late lunch at the cities main eatery, a diner appropriately named Gary’s Galley for the owner and the fact Rivet City was actually a ship, Dreamer kept looking around unable to concentrate on her meal even if they were the local speciality Mirelurk Cakes. With all the Jet flushed out of her bloodstream she was clearer headed than she had been in years and although the wire-framed glasses pinched her nose a little she ignored that too because of the revelation that the world was considerably less blurry than she could have imagined.
‘I’ll have another Nuka Cola here please Miss’ Coyle asked the passing waitress who seemed to be the owner’s daughter. She was a pretty blond thing maybe a couple of years younger than Allison and Coyle imagined that her father kept a cleaver or two nicely sharpened in case somebody less-than-suitable decided she was worth making a play for.
‘Coming right up Sir’ the waitress responded with a smile. ‘Are you enjoying your meal?’ she checked.
‘We are, my complements to the chef’ Coyle replied, smiling back.
‘I’ll let my father know’ the girl told him, her smile widening as she headed for the refrigerator to fetch another bottle of cola for the polite stranger with the unusual accent.
‘They’ve got cornbread too’ Allison informed Coyle, looking up at the chalkboard menu. ‘We could have some of that with a brahmin steak for dinner tonight.’
‘You’re still eating lunch, why are you already thinking about dinner?’ Coyle asked her.
‘Because she grew up not always knowing where the next meal was coming from’ Dreamer interjected. ‘Am I right?’ she asked Allison, turning to face her.
‘Maybe’ Allison grudgingly conceded.
Coyle picked up the fresh Nuka Cola that the waitress had now placed down in front of him. ‘I’ve always thought a girl usually looks smarter in glasses but I didn’t think it actually raised their intelligence for real’ he joked, sipping at his drink. ‘Nectar’ he said with satisfaction.
‘We should have asked the doctor to cure your Nuka Cola addiction’ Allison quipped.
‘If you think you could hold me down while he did it against my will I’d like to see you try’ Coyle replied, grinning. ‘And I mean both of you together’ he added.
‘This feels so strange’ Dreamer found herself saying aloud as she looked over at the clothes on display in the store over the way, able to read the sign above it “Potomac Attire”. ‘Everything is so... focused’ she said, meaning that both figuratively and literally.
‘Not so fuzzy and dreamlike?’ Coyle replied. ‘Or is that dreamerlike?’ he corrected himself, pleased as ever at his own wit.
‘Kiss my ass’ Dreamer hissed back. It wasn't one of her cleverest retorts but it was heartfelt.
‘I’d rather not but if you’re not going to eat those cakes I’ll chew on them instead’ Coyle responded.
‘Eat up Dreamer, they’re real tasty’ Allison encouraged her. ‘How does your hand feel now?’ she asked Coyle.
Coyle clenched his left fist, his hand now free of bandages and looking much better after Doctor Preston’s ministrations. ‘Not a hundred percent but it’s good thanks’ he told her.
‘Where did you get that tattoo done?’ Allison asked out of interest, paying more attention to the rattlesnake that wound its way around his left forearm with the open mouth and displayed fangs on his wrist partially concealed by his watch.
‘New Reno’ Coyle answered. ‘It was sort of a joke’ he said. ‘They used to say in the 13th I had a quickdraw like a rattler making a strike’ he began to explain, ‘and then having it “coiled” around my arm just made it too good an idea not to have done’ he continued. ‘Mom liked it when I went home on leave the next time, said the Spirits would too and would watch over me, but Dad said it just made me look like another dumb tribal’ he told her. ‘And that was when Mom smacked him around the head’ he recalled, laughing at the memory.
Allison laughed too. ‘It’s very good work’ she said, looking at the tattoo more closely to admire the detail.
‘Should be, I missed out on two extra nights getting drunk to pay for it’ Coyle replied. ‘So going to get that dress?’ he asked her after she finished inspecting his body art.
‘It had better be a light cotton one I think’ Allison decided, looking over to Potomac Attire herself. ‘Something not too heavy to carry and I can roll up neatly.’
‘If you’re after any advice I don’t know colours, designs, styles or fabrics but I’m a big fan of hemlines being at least a couple of inches above the knee if that helps you make up your mind’ Coyle suggested. ‘Hey, don’t give me that look, it’ll still hide more flesh than your regular outfit’ he pointed out when she directed a feigned glower in his direction.
‘It’s all a lot rustier than I thought’ Dreamer observed randomly, still looking around the room though occasionally taking a bite from one of her mirelurk cakes. ‘I thought it was mostly just brown’ she admitted.
Coyle chuckled. ‘We need to get her up onto the flight deck, or maybe higher in the ship where there’s a view if we can’ he told Allison. ‘It could be the first time she’s actually gotten a proper look at the surroundings.’
‘I think I’ll buy that dress first’ Allison decided.
‘Good point, there could be a breeze up on that flight deck and if you’re wearing a light cotton number I might get a nice view to look at as well’ Coyle remarked, tongue-in-cheek. ‘Yipe!’ he exclaimed when Allison not-quite-that-gently clipped him around the ear with her hand.
‘I think your Mom had the right idea on dealing with the men in your family’ Allison told him.
As both the main trading hub and the settlement with the largest population in the Capital Wasteland Rivet City was an ideal place to ask around looking for information and Coyle was still relentlessly pressing ahead with his mission. Naturally of course the best place to find those who were loose-lipped and more talkative than normal was a bar and so, being as ever a loyal patriot intent on doing his duty, Scout-Sergeant Cassidy Nagor Coyle of the New California Republic Rangers made sure to place himself in the local drinking den the “Muddy Rudder” very early that evening.
The best to facilitate his goals of thwarting the evil Enclave, confounding the insidious Brotherhood of Steel and counter possible long-term Super-Mutant threats to the Republic Coyle propped himself up at the bar and made sure to fit in with the crowd by downing beer and occasionally spirits at a steady but carefully restrained pace.
For the cost of buying a few beers for others and cracking the odd joke Coyle had already managed to gather a certain amount of useful, or at least interesting, information about the area. Although Enclave Radio broadcast 24/7 nobody had ever seen or heard anything else from them and the radio was nothing but the same music, stories, anecdotes and promises looped over and over. The fact that sometimes “President John Henry Eden” mentioned the Brotherhood of Steel being in the Capital Wasteland did mean the Enclave must have had at least some kind of presence in the area during recent years but the scale of their involvement in the region was a mystery.
In itself though the Enclave operating in the open at all over thirty years since their main base the Poseidon Oil Rig was destroyed remained concerning. The NCR Army had swept up what was believed to be the vast majority of the remaining Enclave forces on the mainland when they rolled a couple of elite battalions into Navarro shortly afterwards, and since then the West Coast had been considered suitably clear of the murderous genocidal bastards, but maybe like cockroaches they had scattered when the lights came on and had scurried off to hide in the still dark East Coast.
As a stranger not everyone wanted to talk to Coyle however, not even if he was willing to buy them a drink, but he did learn other snippets that aided his knowledge of local geography and explained a few things. Although the Chinese never managed to detonate a city-buster directly on DC there was the occasional small crater to be found and random areas of localised destruction including a very large chunk blown out of the White House which was notably radioactive to this day. The Reds had attempted to swamp the ABM System defending the US Capital by taking one of their limited numbers of ICBM’s and instead of loading it with a handful of large multi-kiloton warheads cramming it full of hundreds of sub-kiloton mini-nukes instead raining the things down all over the city. Laser based defences had in fact still successfully knocked out most of them but the sheer number meant that some inevitably got through peppering the city with occasional holes blasted out of neighbourhoods. This damage had made getting around difficult in some places so when they arrived, and before the Super-Mutant numbers got too out-of-hand to devote manpower to such things, the Brotherhood of Steel had made efforts to get the lighting going in the old subway tunnels again, using them as a means to circumvent areas where the wreckage of collapsed buildings made them impassable.
As for the Brotherhood of Steel themselves both Enclave Radio and a couple of the bar patrons talked about there actually being two factions of them. The main group, by far the most numerous, was the one based in the Pentagon but the others, self-styled “Outcasts” could be occasionally encountered patrolling the wasteland too and they were not seemingly well liked by anybody. This sub-faction could apparently be differentiated from their compatriots by the red paint they added to their Power Armour and were generally seen as obnoxious, arrogant and were entirely disinterested in anybodies business but their own, making no effort to protect the general population from Raiders or Super-Mutants. The confusing thing to Coyle was that from what he knew of the Steel Plague it was the ones with the red paint that seemed to be behaving most like the regular Brotherhood meaning that at first glance the “Outcasts” were in fact the loyalists. The internal politics there definitely bore investigation he decided because it just didn’t add up.
The arrival of Sydney and Emaline at the bar some time after he got there himself helped Coyle gain a little more acceptance because they were well known and liked in the city themselves, and them greeting him in a friendly way broke a little ice with the locals who had been more standoffish of the stranger and his questions until then.
‘Where’s the other two?’ Sydney asked him, noting that neither Allison nor Dreamer were present in the bar.
‘Allison decided to buy Dreamer some new clothes after the third time someone made a crack about my, I mean her, shirt’ Coyle explained, long having given up on the notion that anyone on the East Coast would have the good taste to be able to recognise the true sartorial splendour which was his Hawaiian shirt. ‘They’ll be along’ he said.
‘Do you trust the raider not to make trouble for her?’ Emaline asked him as Sydney attracted the attention of the bar’s owner who went by the name of Belle Bonney attempting to buy a drink for herself and her friend.
‘She seems placid enough now she’s off Jet’ Coyle replied. ‘To be honest I think she’s suffering a little from sensory overload.’
‘Meaning?’ Emaline asked.
‘Wait until you see her’ Coyle said, smiling as he reached for his beer.
‘Hey man’ a young man in his late teens sitting alone at one of the tables called over to Coyle. ‘Thanks again for the beer’ he said, raising the bottle that Coyle had sprung for a little earlier after he introduced himself. ‘Need any help looking after the ladies?’ he asked in a laid back manner.
‘I’m good thanks Bro, we’re just chillin, shooting the breeze but thanks for the offer’ Coyle replied. ‘How’s it hanging?’ he asked politely.
‘Free and easy man’ the young man told him, ‘free and easy’ he said. ‘You too?’ he checked.
‘Totally’ Coyle confirmed, both of them nodding. ‘Later dude’ Coyle finished the exchange returning to his drink.
‘That’s Ted Strayer’ Sydney whispered to Coyle. ‘He’s the biggest loafer and waste of space in Rivet City’ she told him.
‘He’s the only person I’ve met on the East Coast so far that can manage a decent, civilised conversation’ Coyle replied sincerely, wishing there were some beer nuts on the bar and that people over here were a little less uptight.
Ted Strayer leaned back in his chair. Thanks to the money he inherited from his father he didn’t have to work to keep himself and he certainly wasn’t going to do so out of any kind of work ethic so for the most part he just hung around Rivet City chilling-out, knocking back the occasional beer or doing recreational drugs. The new guy in town seemed okay to Ted, he seemed to be on the same wavelength as him at least, and you had to admit he had a way with the ladies because two more of them had now arrived to join him.
‘Nice dress’ Sydney told Allison.
‘Thanks’ Allison replied, smiling, turning around to show it off.
‘Nice... glasses’ Emaline greeted Dreamer in turn who was wearing a far more utilitarian outfit in the form of an old pilot’s jumpsuit that had most likely been on the aircraft carrier since the Great War. It was at least two sizes too large but it was cheap this being Allison’s main criteria in buying it.
‘Hey mister, buy a girl a drink?’ Allison playfully sidled up to Coyle.
‘You’d better not be thinking of trying to get a slice of my action’ a young woman who happened to be walking past them snarled at Allison hearing the line. ‘This is my territory’ she declared, walking towards Allison to confront her directly. ‘I’m not going to have some skank in a cheap dress turning up and trying to...’ she continued before trailing off and redirecting her gaze from Allison to Dreamer cocking her head to the side as if to be sure she recognised her. ‘Dreamer?’ she asked uncertainly.
Dreamer looked surprised. ‘Trinnie?’ she responded practically as unsure.
‘Shit it is you’ the woman exclaimed, suddenly embracing Dreamer and pulling her into a hug which Dreamer awkwardly returned. ‘You look different’ she said, smiling broadly. ‘When did you start wearing glasses?’ she asked. ‘How have you been?’ she inquired then suddenly pushed her away her expression shifting to anger. ‘You weren’t at Big Town when I got there’ she said with some obvious bitterness. ‘You said you’d be waiting for me, I only turned sixteen three weeks after you did but when I got there they said you’d never arrived’ she complained accusingly. ‘I thought you were dead.’
Dreamer opened her mouth to reply but the words didn’t come out at first. ‘I... I never made it’ she said. ‘I’m sorry’ she apologised, looking away.
‘All those stories you told about how good it was going to be for us when we got there were bullshit but I bet you knew that which is why you never went there right?’ Trinnie demanded to know.
‘No I was going there’ Dreamer insisted. ‘I only found out the Big Town was mostly crap they made up to make it easier for the Mungos to leave later on’ she said.
‘Then where were you?’ Trinnie asked.
‘Raiders, raiders caught me’ Dreamer told her, feeling the urgent need to explain, let it all out. ‘I didn’t have anything worth stealing but I was worth something so they sold me at Paradise Falls’ she said, memories flooding back that years of drug abuse had tempered until now. ‘Eulogy Jones thought I was worth having for himself so I was one of his girls until he got bored with me and sold me onto Evergreen Mills.’
Coyle threw a quizzical look at Sydney. ‘Raiders set themselves up there with a bar, slave-pens and girls as entertainment’ Sydney whispered to him. ‘They keep the girls drugged up, and sometimes a boy or two for guys that swing that way.’
‘I ended up joining one of the gangs that used to visit to trade and get laid’ Dreamer said. ‘The leader decided I’d be fun to keep around after I showed him an extra good time and it was better than staying there’ Dreamer told Trinnie, pulling off her glasses so the world became a little less real again. ‘Girls there don’t last very long’ she remembered.
Coyle noticed that an awful lot of people in the bar now seemed to be listening in. ‘You might want to all start minding your own fucking business’ he warned with a growl, looking around at them with an expression on his face that caused most to immediately make themselves scarce or at least redirect their attention.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there Trinnie’ Dreamer told her earnestly. ‘I wanted to be, I wanted it to be good like they said it would be, living under the open skies and with plenty to eat...’
‘That’s why we called you Dreamer but it’s not wonderland out here is it’ Trinnie asked rhetorically. ‘It never was and it never will be’ she continued. ‘It’s shit and all it does is keep getting worse’ she stated. ‘Those tales you made up we all used to listen to about a better life in the future are just that, fairy stories.’
‘I know’ Dreamer replied softly. ‘How did you end up here?’ she asked, looking at her again.
‘It’s better than Big Town at least’ Trinnie replied. ‘I’d rather sell my ass here than have to worry about raiders or muties all the time like I did there’ she said. ‘You ain’t the only one who’s had a fucked-up life since Lamplight’ she continued flatly. ‘I suppose we should just be happy we had a few years that were okay at the start because that’s more than most other people get.’
Dreamer felt herself start to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks. It had all been too much; the clarity of thought, seeing the world with new eyes, meeting Trinnie again, her insides felt like they were tying themselves into knots. ‘There isn’t anything better’ she said wistfully.
Coyle got up off his barstool. ‘I think we’d better take her back to the room’ he suggested to Allison who nodded her agreement. ‘If you want to come along and talk to her some more that’s okay’ he added to Trinnie.
‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that’ Trinnie decided, maybe she needed it too.
‘Sorry about all this, have a couple of drinks on me’ Coyle apologised to Sydney and Emaline, putting some caps on the bar for them.
‘Don’t worry about it’ Sydney replied. ‘Wouldn’t be the first evening that started on a downer and ended well’ she said. ‘I mean it’s all got to be better from here right?’ she theorised as Allison put an arm around Dreamer and led her towards the exit with Trinnie following.
Coyle caught up with the others at the stairwell. ‘I know you probably won’t believe me’ he told Dreamer, ‘but things can get better’ he said. ‘I come from a better place than this’ he said. ‘All you need is for enough people to believe they can make it better and eventually they will’ he stated with conviction. ‘We dreamed we could rebuild, bring back the best of the old world in at least a part of this one and we did, we actually did it’ he declared. ‘That’s why the Brotherhood couldn’t beat us, why even after years of fighting and tens of thousands of casualties we never quit’ he said. ‘It’s not just superior numbers that turned the tide, our ability to replace our losses’ he continued, ‘it was having something that was actually worth all those good men and women dying for and them genuinely believing it was’ he said. ‘They lived and died the dream and it’s still there for others to hold onto.’
Trinnie stared at him nonplussed for a couple of seconds, she didn’t really get the stuff about the Brotherhood but either he was a total nut-job or he had more to hold onto than most anyone she had ever met. It was certainly hard to doubt the sincerity of the words or the passion with which he delivered them and he was a few years too old to still be naive about life. ‘Seriously, where did you find this guy?’ she asked Dreamer.
‘He’s from California’ Allison and Dreamer said together.
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Note from the Author:
I've left hints about Dreamer possibly having bad eyesight in earlier chapters, she's fairly nearsighted and having glasses on gives her a very different view of the world, one that coincided with having her Jet addiction sorted out by Doctor Preston of the Rivet City clinic.
As always I've tried to logically explain away a few aspects of FO3 that don't make much sense at first glance (they should have done it in the game but there you go). I also couldn't resist a short Coyle and Ted Strayer segment given how the latter talks in the game (stereotypical slacker using California slang).
I didn't want Dreamer to have some unrealistic sudden change-of-heart but I think the combination of changes all at once including running into someone from her childhood for the first time in years is a way to bring about a fundamental shift in her (otherwise known as a minor mental breakdown).
The Muddy Rudder bar is where you can find Trinnie who grew up in Little Lamplight. Dreamer is from there too and was called that because that was what she was like until the Capital Wasteland robbed her of her hope.
Don't worry back to some action next chapter if you've been missing it.
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XIV
Rivet City – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
Sat on the edge of the hotel room’s double bed with Dreamer beside her Allison felt even more apprehensive than she looked as the Coyle continued to try and use his powers of persuasion to get them to go along with it. He had already dumped his armour, boots and helmet at the end of the bed and was now just wearing a T-Shirt and shorts.
‘I don’t know’ Allison told the clearly enthusiastic Coyle. ‘I mean I said I’ve never done this before’ she said nervously, twisting the bedsheets underneath her with her hands. ‘I mean maybe if it was just you and we were out in the wasteland where nobody could hear us.’
‘Come on, there’s no need to be shy’ Coyle replied. ‘Once we get going it’ll be fun’ he promised. ‘It’s not difficult, I’ve already told you it’s mostly just you and Dreamer following my lead.’
Dreamer mouthed an obscenity. ‘For crying out loud let’s just do what he wants and then he’ll leave us alone and we can get some sleep’ she implored Allison. ‘He ain’t going to quit until we do.’
‘She’s right’ Coyle agreed, nodding. ‘It’ll be awesome, I should have thought of it before.’
Allison closed her eyes for a moment. ‘Okay, but don’t either of you say anything if I’m not very good’ she requested, opening them again.
Coyle beamed and rubbed his hands together with glee, this was going to be great he thought. ‘Remember, breathing and rhythm is important’ he reminded them.
‘Just get on with it’ Dreamer told him.
‘Okay’ Coyle replied, taking a deep breath. ‘All the leaves are brown’ he sang.
‘All the leaves are brown’ Allison and Dreamer sang together in refrain.
‘And the sky is grey’ Coyle continued.
‘And the sky is grey’ the girls sang.
‘I’ve been for a walk’ Coyle sang, starting to sway a little in time to the tune as he did so.
‘I’ve been for a walk’ they sang back
‘On a winter’s day’
‘On a winter’s day’ Allison and Dreamer sang, the former starting to become a little less self-conscious.
‘I’d be safe and warm’ Coyle sang, really getting into it now.
‘I’d be safe and warm’ the girls refrained.
‘If I was in LA’ he sang.
‘If I was in LA’
‘California dreaming’
‘California dreaming’
‘On such a winter’s day’ they all sang together.
Outside in the corridor two Rivet City Security guards looked at each other in bemusement. ‘I was so expecting to be hearing something else coming out of there when he went in with those two chicks’ one told the other.
The other guard nodded. ‘They ain’t too bad though’ he decided. ‘Maybe with a little more practice’ he thought aloud as they turned and headed towards the Muddy Rudder where maybe they might have a little more excitement breaking up a bar fight or something.
Waking up the next morning Coyle found Allison cuddled up against his back as had become the norm but knew that was likely more an indication that she had propped him up on his side to stop him snoring again than a sign of anything else.
Moving his head Coyle spotted Dreamer still asleep on the metal floor where she had been placed but the blanket she was wrapped in must have been given to by Allison after he drifted off. ‘Wakey wakey rise and shine’ he said loudly, swinging his legs off the bed and forcing his companions to greet the new day as well whether they wanted to or not.
‘What time is it?’ Allison mumbled at him, rubbing her eyes. Coyle moving had pulled the sheet off her and he briefly paid rapt attention that she was wearing the T-shirt he had given her in Megaton and panties that weren’t quite as skimpy as he would have preferred but weren’t bad nonetheless.
‘It’s time to get washed up, eat breakfast and then visit the Clinic’ Coyle replied, all-too-brightly for the time of the day and forcing himself to stop eyeing up her bare legs. Better make that a cold shower, he thought.
‘Give her a dose did you?’ Dreamer asked from the floor. ‘You should always make them use protection Honey’ she advised Allison in as sarcastic a tone as she could muster before starting to cough violently. ‘I feel like shit’ she moaned.
‘You don’t smell anywhere near that good’ Coyle replied. ‘That’s why you’re going to spend longer in the shower than we are’ he informed her.
‘Fuck that’ Dreamer responded curtly, sitting up. ‘They use water from the river to wash in’ she said. ‘I don’t want to pick up any more rads’ she said seriously.
‘I’ll get the Doc to check how much radiation is in your system and if it’s high, and if you promise not to cause any trouble, I’ll have him clean it out as well as flush the drugs from your system’ Coyle told her.
‘Won’t that start getting expensive?’ Allison asked.
‘It’s only money, I can always get more’ Coyle replied.
‘You mean you can always find more raiders to shoot and sell on their stuff’ Allison responded knowingly, and not very approvingly either.
‘Yes, and firing budget ammunition from Wanda instead of dropping them with my FN-FAL the profit margin there is going to go up nicely’ Coyle told her happily. ‘We won’t be staying here as long as I thought we would I’ll say that’ he continued. ‘This room wasn’t cheap, I can see why Sydney and Emaline choose to crash in that museum place instead.’
‘The bed is so comfortable though’ Allison said, stretching out. ‘We’re going to stay here again tonight at least aren’t we?’ she asked him. ‘I mean we said we’d meet the girls at the bar later so we’ll have to right?’
‘I guess so’ Coyle replied, smiling at her.
The “Weatherly Hotel” was in reality just a few rooms off one of the main corridors with the eponymous owner Vera Weatherly renting them out to visitors. She had at least fitted the rooms out with some reasonable furniture with wardrobes, lockers and the like to hold your goods and the bed was clean and comfortable so Coyle didn’t feel too robbed by the price she charged.
Getting up completely Coyle went over to his rucksack and began searching through it. ‘Soap’ he said. ‘Soap I know I’ve got some’ he said to himself. ‘Ouch!’ he exclaimed suddenly pulling out his hand and then sucking on his finger for a second. ‘Ranger Badge with the pin facing out’ he said in annoyance, pulling the thing out of the bag and pitching it onto the bed before resuming his search.
Allison picked up the badge and looked at it. ‘Is this gold?’ she asked, turning it over in her hands.
‘The yellow metal is just brass but the silver star is real silver’ Coyle told her, now emerging from the rucksack with what he was looking for and placing a small cloth bag with a couple of bars of soap in it atop a small cupboard. ‘Hey, I think I’ve got some shampoo in here too’ he remembered resuming his rummaging through the rucksack.
‘It’s pretty’ Allison told him, putting the badge back down.
‘No it’s not its manly and authoritative’ Coyle replied, mildly indignant at that. ‘Got it’ he said finding the small bottle of shampoo. ‘Oh, herbal scented’ he noted with pleasure, reading the label.
‘You’re going to shave too aren’t you?’ Allison asked him. ‘You haven’t for a couple of days and you need too.’
‘Not a fan of the rugged look?’ Coyle asked, rubbing his chin.
‘You just look scruffy more than anything’ Allison told him honestly.
‘I’ll take your advice then’ Coyle replied, retrieving his straight razor and the leather strap he sharpened it with. ‘I think we’re probably safe leaving our stuff in here, take your ten-millimetre with you though just in case’ he told her deciding that his own magnum automatic currently under the pillow was more than enough weaponry for his own security. ‘We’ll lock the door and secure the rest of the guns and the other valuables in the footlocker’ he said, last night he had put the drugs they carried to keep them safely out of Dreamer’s hands if she got ideas after they went to sleep.
Coyle began pulling on the uniform pants of his combat armour, although not bothering to strap on the knee and shin plates that reinforced them leaving them with the heavy torso section on the floor.
‘I think I’ll buy a dress later’ Allison decided, putting on her own leather pants for now. ‘I saw dresses hanging up in that clothes store in the market yesterday.’
‘I could do with some more clothes’ Dreamer announced.
‘Nobody asked’ Coyle and Allison responded simultaneously.
After being directed to where they could get clean, Allison turning down Coyle’s magnanimous offer to help her wash her back, or anything else for that matter, they sought out the Rivet City Clinic where a brief discussion with Doctor Preston on what he charged for medical care led to Coyle deciding to try negotiating a deal.
‘Those are the set rates’ Preston told the visitors again firmly, crossing his arms in front of his white coat.
Coyle shook his head. ‘Come on you can do better than that’ he said. ‘That’s three people to scrub out the radiation from, one needing a drug problem sorting out and this needs some work’ he said, holding up his bandaged hand.
Preston sighed. ‘Alright, I’ll knock off another seventy-five caps’ he conceded.
‘Make that a hundred and throw in a free eye-test for her and we’ve got a deal’ Coyle said, holding out his hand to seal it, Preston eventually taking it after another moments indecision.
‘What do you mean an eye test?’ Dreamer wanted to know.
‘You can’t shoot for shit and you squint your eyes when you’re looking at something in the distance’ Coyle replied. ‘I think you’re nearsighted’ he told her.
‘I can see okay’ Dreamer denied.
Doctor Preston adopted a professional look. ‘If the myopia came on very gradually you might not be aware of the deterioration’ he informed her. ‘If your friend is correct I have a good selection of spectacles I’ve bought from scavengers over the years and I’ve likely got a close enough prescription to remedy the complaint’ he said. ‘I wear them myself as you can see, it’s really not a problem and they won’t stop you doing most things’ he promised. ‘Or ruin your pretty looks’ he added given it was a young woman he was addressing and she might be a little vain.
‘He is not my friend’ Dreamer responded sharply. ‘And I don’t want the eye-test or the drug treatment either’ she stated with determination.
‘Oh, well I do need consent for any procedure’ Preston told Coyle apologetically.
‘She’s a drug addict and therefore not in her right mind’ Coyle countered.
Preston thought about that. ‘I must admit that wanting to remain a drug addict is not a good indication of her reason and fitness to make an informed choice’ he reasoned.
‘Good, I’ll hold her down on the examination couch if I have to, just get on with it’ Coyle replied. ‘As for the glasses just add them to the bill if she needs them.’
‘You should be thanking him, that’s a nice thing to do’ Allison told Dreamer. ‘The glasses I mean, not the holding you down’ she added for the sake of clarity.
‘You might want to keep any scalpels out of her reach’ Coyle advised the doctor seriously.
‘I concur’ Preston agreed wholeheartedly, seeing the now murderous expression on Dreamer’s face.
Sitting down later to eat a late lunch at the cities main eatery, a diner appropriately named Gary’s Galley for the owner and the fact Rivet City was actually a ship, Dreamer kept looking around unable to concentrate on her meal even if they were the local speciality Mirelurk Cakes. With all the Jet flushed out of her bloodstream she was clearer headed than she had been in years and although the wire-framed glasses pinched her nose a little she ignored that too because of the revelation that the world was considerably less blurry than she could have imagined.
‘I’ll have another Nuka Cola here please Miss’ Coyle asked the passing waitress who seemed to be the owner’s daughter. She was a pretty blond thing maybe a couple of years younger than Allison and Coyle imagined that her father kept a cleaver or two nicely sharpened in case somebody less-than-suitable decided she was worth making a play for.
‘Coming right up Sir’ the waitress responded with a smile. ‘Are you enjoying your meal?’ she checked.
‘We are, my complements to the chef’ Coyle replied, smiling back.
‘I’ll let my father know’ the girl told him, her smile widening as she headed for the refrigerator to fetch another bottle of cola for the polite stranger with the unusual accent.
‘They’ve got cornbread too’ Allison informed Coyle, looking up at the chalkboard menu. ‘We could have some of that with a brahmin steak for dinner tonight.’
‘You’re still eating lunch, why are you already thinking about dinner?’ Coyle asked her.
‘Because she grew up not always knowing where the next meal was coming from’ Dreamer interjected. ‘Am I right?’ she asked Allison, turning to face her.
‘Maybe’ Allison grudgingly conceded.
Coyle picked up the fresh Nuka Cola that the waitress had now placed down in front of him. ‘I’ve always thought a girl usually looks smarter in glasses but I didn’t think it actually raised their intelligence for real’ he joked, sipping at his drink. ‘Nectar’ he said with satisfaction.
‘We should have asked the doctor to cure your Nuka Cola addiction’ Allison quipped.
‘If you think you could hold me down while he did it against my will I’d like to see you try’ Coyle replied, grinning. ‘And I mean both of you together’ he added.
‘This feels so strange’ Dreamer found herself saying aloud as she looked over at the clothes on display in the store over the way, able to read the sign above it “Potomac Attire”. ‘Everything is so... focused’ she said, meaning that both figuratively and literally.
‘Not so fuzzy and dreamlike?’ Coyle replied. ‘Or is that dreamerlike?’ he corrected himself, pleased as ever at his own wit.
‘Kiss my ass’ Dreamer hissed back. It wasn't one of her cleverest retorts but it was heartfelt.
‘I’d rather not but if you’re not going to eat those cakes I’ll chew on them instead’ Coyle responded.
‘Eat up Dreamer, they’re real tasty’ Allison encouraged her. ‘How does your hand feel now?’ she asked Coyle.
Coyle clenched his left fist, his hand now free of bandages and looking much better after Doctor Preston’s ministrations. ‘Not a hundred percent but it’s good thanks’ he told her.
‘Where did you get that tattoo done?’ Allison asked out of interest, paying more attention to the rattlesnake that wound its way around his left forearm with the open mouth and displayed fangs on his wrist partially concealed by his watch.
‘New Reno’ Coyle answered. ‘It was sort of a joke’ he said. ‘They used to say in the 13th I had a quickdraw like a rattler making a strike’ he began to explain, ‘and then having it “coiled” around my arm just made it too good an idea not to have done’ he continued. ‘Mom liked it when I went home on leave the next time, said the Spirits would too and would watch over me, but Dad said it just made me look like another dumb tribal’ he told her. ‘And that was when Mom smacked him around the head’ he recalled, laughing at the memory.
Allison laughed too. ‘It’s very good work’ she said, looking at the tattoo more closely to admire the detail.
‘Should be, I missed out on two extra nights getting drunk to pay for it’ Coyle replied. ‘So going to get that dress?’ he asked her after she finished inspecting his body art.
‘It had better be a light cotton one I think’ Allison decided, looking over to Potomac Attire herself. ‘Something not too heavy to carry and I can roll up neatly.’
‘If you’re after any advice I don’t know colours, designs, styles or fabrics but I’m a big fan of hemlines being at least a couple of inches above the knee if that helps you make up your mind’ Coyle suggested. ‘Hey, don’t give me that look, it’ll still hide more flesh than your regular outfit’ he pointed out when she directed a feigned glower in his direction.
‘It’s all a lot rustier than I thought’ Dreamer observed randomly, still looking around the room though occasionally taking a bite from one of her mirelurk cakes. ‘I thought it was mostly just brown’ she admitted.
Coyle chuckled. ‘We need to get her up onto the flight deck, or maybe higher in the ship where there’s a view if we can’ he told Allison. ‘It could be the first time she’s actually gotten a proper look at the surroundings.’
‘I think I’ll buy that dress first’ Allison decided.
‘Good point, there could be a breeze up on that flight deck and if you’re wearing a light cotton number I might get a nice view to look at as well’ Coyle remarked, tongue-in-cheek. ‘Yipe!’ he exclaimed when Allison not-quite-that-gently clipped him around the ear with her hand.
‘I think your Mom had the right idea on dealing with the men in your family’ Allison told him.
As both the main trading hub and the settlement with the largest population in the Capital Wasteland Rivet City was an ideal place to ask around looking for information and Coyle was still relentlessly pressing ahead with his mission. Naturally of course the best place to find those who were loose-lipped and more talkative than normal was a bar and so, being as ever a loyal patriot intent on doing his duty, Scout-Sergeant Cassidy Nagor Coyle of the New California Republic Rangers made sure to place himself in the local drinking den the “Muddy Rudder” very early that evening.
The best to facilitate his goals of thwarting the evil Enclave, confounding the insidious Brotherhood of Steel and counter possible long-term Super-Mutant threats to the Republic Coyle propped himself up at the bar and made sure to fit in with the crowd by downing beer and occasionally spirits at a steady but carefully restrained pace.
For the cost of buying a few beers for others and cracking the odd joke Coyle had already managed to gather a certain amount of useful, or at least interesting, information about the area. Although Enclave Radio broadcast 24/7 nobody had ever seen or heard anything else from them and the radio was nothing but the same music, stories, anecdotes and promises looped over and over. The fact that sometimes “President John Henry Eden” mentioned the Brotherhood of Steel being in the Capital Wasteland did mean the Enclave must have had at least some kind of presence in the area during recent years but the scale of their involvement in the region was a mystery.
In itself though the Enclave operating in the open at all over thirty years since their main base the Poseidon Oil Rig was destroyed remained concerning. The NCR Army had swept up what was believed to be the vast majority of the remaining Enclave forces on the mainland when they rolled a couple of elite battalions into Navarro shortly afterwards, and since then the West Coast had been considered suitably clear of the murderous genocidal bastards, but maybe like cockroaches they had scattered when the lights came on and had scurried off to hide in the still dark East Coast.
As a stranger not everyone wanted to talk to Coyle however, not even if he was willing to buy them a drink, but he did learn other snippets that aided his knowledge of local geography and explained a few things. Although the Chinese never managed to detonate a city-buster directly on DC there was the occasional small crater to be found and random areas of localised destruction including a very large chunk blown out of the White House which was notably radioactive to this day. The Reds had attempted to swamp the ABM System defending the US Capital by taking one of their limited numbers of ICBM’s and instead of loading it with a handful of large multi-kiloton warheads cramming it full of hundreds of sub-kiloton mini-nukes instead raining the things down all over the city. Laser based defences had in fact still successfully knocked out most of them but the sheer number meant that some inevitably got through peppering the city with occasional holes blasted out of neighbourhoods. This damage had made getting around difficult in some places so when they arrived, and before the Super-Mutant numbers got too out-of-hand to devote manpower to such things, the Brotherhood of Steel had made efforts to get the lighting going in the old subway tunnels again, using them as a means to circumvent areas where the wreckage of collapsed buildings made them impassable.
As for the Brotherhood of Steel themselves both Enclave Radio and a couple of the bar patrons talked about there actually being two factions of them. The main group, by far the most numerous, was the one based in the Pentagon but the others, self-styled “Outcasts” could be occasionally encountered patrolling the wasteland too and they were not seemingly well liked by anybody. This sub-faction could apparently be differentiated from their compatriots by the red paint they added to their Power Armour and were generally seen as obnoxious, arrogant and were entirely disinterested in anybodies business but their own, making no effort to protect the general population from Raiders or Super-Mutants. The confusing thing to Coyle was that from what he knew of the Steel Plague it was the ones with the red paint that seemed to be behaving most like the regular Brotherhood meaning that at first glance the “Outcasts” were in fact the loyalists. The internal politics there definitely bore investigation he decided because it just didn’t add up.
The arrival of Sydney and Emaline at the bar some time after he got there himself helped Coyle gain a little more acceptance because they were well known and liked in the city themselves, and them greeting him in a friendly way broke a little ice with the locals who had been more standoffish of the stranger and his questions until then.
‘Where’s the other two?’ Sydney asked him, noting that neither Allison nor Dreamer were present in the bar.
‘Allison decided to buy Dreamer some new clothes after the third time someone made a crack about my, I mean her, shirt’ Coyle explained, long having given up on the notion that anyone on the East Coast would have the good taste to be able to recognise the true sartorial splendour which was his Hawaiian shirt. ‘They’ll be along’ he said.
‘Do you trust the raider not to make trouble for her?’ Emaline asked him as Sydney attracted the attention of the bar’s owner who went by the name of Belle Bonney attempting to buy a drink for herself and her friend.
‘She seems placid enough now she’s off Jet’ Coyle replied. ‘To be honest I think she’s suffering a little from sensory overload.’
‘Meaning?’ Emaline asked.
‘Wait until you see her’ Coyle said, smiling as he reached for his beer.
‘Hey man’ a young man in his late teens sitting alone at one of the tables called over to Coyle. ‘Thanks again for the beer’ he said, raising the bottle that Coyle had sprung for a little earlier after he introduced himself. ‘Need any help looking after the ladies?’ he asked in a laid back manner.
‘I’m good thanks Bro, we’re just chillin, shooting the breeze but thanks for the offer’ Coyle replied. ‘How’s it hanging?’ he asked politely.
‘Free and easy man’ the young man told him, ‘free and easy’ he said. ‘You too?’ he checked.
‘Totally’ Coyle confirmed, both of them nodding. ‘Later dude’ Coyle finished the exchange returning to his drink.
‘That’s Ted Strayer’ Sydney whispered to Coyle. ‘He’s the biggest loafer and waste of space in Rivet City’ she told him.
‘He’s the only person I’ve met on the East Coast so far that can manage a decent, civilised conversation’ Coyle replied sincerely, wishing there were some beer nuts on the bar and that people over here were a little less uptight.
Ted Strayer leaned back in his chair. Thanks to the money he inherited from his father he didn’t have to work to keep himself and he certainly wasn’t going to do so out of any kind of work ethic so for the most part he just hung around Rivet City chilling-out, knocking back the occasional beer or doing recreational drugs. The new guy in town seemed okay to Ted, he seemed to be on the same wavelength as him at least, and you had to admit he had a way with the ladies because two more of them had now arrived to join him.
‘Nice dress’ Sydney told Allison.
‘Thanks’ Allison replied, smiling, turning around to show it off.
‘Nice... glasses’ Emaline greeted Dreamer in turn who was wearing a far more utilitarian outfit in the form of an old pilot’s jumpsuit that had most likely been on the aircraft carrier since the Great War. It was at least two sizes too large but it was cheap this being Allison’s main criteria in buying it.
‘Hey mister, buy a girl a drink?’ Allison playfully sidled up to Coyle.
‘You’d better not be thinking of trying to get a slice of my action’ a young woman who happened to be walking past them snarled at Allison hearing the line. ‘This is my territory’ she declared, walking towards Allison to confront her directly. ‘I’m not going to have some skank in a cheap dress turning up and trying to...’ she continued before trailing off and redirecting her gaze from Allison to Dreamer cocking her head to the side as if to be sure she recognised her. ‘Dreamer?’ she asked uncertainly.
Dreamer looked surprised. ‘Trinnie?’ she responded practically as unsure.
‘Shit it is you’ the woman exclaimed, suddenly embracing Dreamer and pulling her into a hug which Dreamer awkwardly returned. ‘You look different’ she said, smiling broadly. ‘When did you start wearing glasses?’ she asked. ‘How have you been?’ she inquired then suddenly pushed her away her expression shifting to anger. ‘You weren’t at Big Town when I got there’ she said with some obvious bitterness. ‘You said you’d be waiting for me, I only turned sixteen three weeks after you did but when I got there they said you’d never arrived’ she complained accusingly. ‘I thought you were dead.’
Dreamer opened her mouth to reply but the words didn’t come out at first. ‘I... I never made it’ she said. ‘I’m sorry’ she apologised, looking away.
‘All those stories you told about how good it was going to be for us when we got there were bullshit but I bet you knew that which is why you never went there right?’ Trinnie demanded to know.
‘No I was going there’ Dreamer insisted. ‘I only found out the Big Town was mostly crap they made up to make it easier for the Mungos to leave later on’ she said.
‘Then where were you?’ Trinnie asked.
‘Raiders, raiders caught me’ Dreamer told her, feeling the urgent need to explain, let it all out. ‘I didn’t have anything worth stealing but I was worth something so they sold me at Paradise Falls’ she said, memories flooding back that years of drug abuse had tempered until now. ‘Eulogy Jones thought I was worth having for himself so I was one of his girls until he got bored with me and sold me onto Evergreen Mills.’
Coyle threw a quizzical look at Sydney. ‘Raiders set themselves up there with a bar, slave-pens and girls as entertainment’ Sydney whispered to him. ‘They keep the girls drugged up, and sometimes a boy or two for guys that swing that way.’
‘I ended up joining one of the gangs that used to visit to trade and get laid’ Dreamer said. ‘The leader decided I’d be fun to keep around after I showed him an extra good time and it was better than staying there’ Dreamer told Trinnie, pulling off her glasses so the world became a little less real again. ‘Girls there don’t last very long’ she remembered.
Coyle noticed that an awful lot of people in the bar now seemed to be listening in. ‘You might want to all start minding your own fucking business’ he warned with a growl, looking around at them with an expression on his face that caused most to immediately make themselves scarce or at least redirect their attention.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there Trinnie’ Dreamer told her earnestly. ‘I wanted to be, I wanted it to be good like they said it would be, living under the open skies and with plenty to eat...’
‘That’s why we called you Dreamer but it’s not wonderland out here is it’ Trinnie asked rhetorically. ‘It never was and it never will be’ she continued. ‘It’s shit and all it does is keep getting worse’ she stated. ‘Those tales you made up we all used to listen to about a better life in the future are just that, fairy stories.’
‘I know’ Dreamer replied softly. ‘How did you end up here?’ she asked, looking at her again.
‘It’s better than Big Town at least’ Trinnie replied. ‘I’d rather sell my ass here than have to worry about raiders or muties all the time like I did there’ she said. ‘You ain’t the only one who’s had a fucked-up life since Lamplight’ she continued flatly. ‘I suppose we should just be happy we had a few years that were okay at the start because that’s more than most other people get.’
Dreamer felt herself start to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks. It had all been too much; the clarity of thought, seeing the world with new eyes, meeting Trinnie again, her insides felt like they were tying themselves into knots. ‘There isn’t anything better’ she said wistfully.
Coyle got up off his barstool. ‘I think we’d better take her back to the room’ he suggested to Allison who nodded her agreement. ‘If you want to come along and talk to her some more that’s okay’ he added to Trinnie.
‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that’ Trinnie decided, maybe she needed it too.
‘Sorry about all this, have a couple of drinks on me’ Coyle apologised to Sydney and Emaline, putting some caps on the bar for them.
‘Don’t worry about it’ Sydney replied. ‘Wouldn’t be the first evening that started on a downer and ended well’ she said. ‘I mean it’s all got to be better from here right?’ she theorised as Allison put an arm around Dreamer and led her towards the exit with Trinnie following.
Coyle caught up with the others at the stairwell. ‘I know you probably won’t believe me’ he told Dreamer, ‘but things can get better’ he said. ‘I come from a better place than this’ he said. ‘All you need is for enough people to believe they can make it better and eventually they will’ he stated with conviction. ‘We dreamed we could rebuild, bring back the best of the old world in at least a part of this one and we did, we actually did it’ he declared. ‘That’s why the Brotherhood couldn’t beat us, why even after years of fighting and tens of thousands of casualties we never quit’ he said. ‘It’s not just superior numbers that turned the tide, our ability to replace our losses’ he continued, ‘it was having something that was actually worth all those good men and women dying for and them genuinely believing it was’ he said. ‘They lived and died the dream and it’s still there for others to hold onto.’
Trinnie stared at him nonplussed for a couple of seconds, she didn’t really get the stuff about the Brotherhood but either he was a total nut-job or he had more to hold onto than most anyone she had ever met. It was certainly hard to doubt the sincerity of the words or the passion with which he delivered them and he was a few years too old to still be naive about life. ‘Seriously, where did you find this guy?’ she asked Dreamer.
‘He’s from California’ Allison and Dreamer said together.
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Note from the Author:
I've left hints about Dreamer possibly having bad eyesight in earlier chapters, she's fairly nearsighted and having glasses on gives her a very different view of the world, one that coincided with having her Jet addiction sorted out by Doctor Preston of the Rivet City clinic.
As always I've tried to logically explain away a few aspects of FO3 that don't make much sense at first glance (they should have done it in the game but there you go). I also couldn't resist a short Coyle and Ted Strayer segment given how the latter talks in the game (stereotypical slacker using California slang).
I didn't want Dreamer to have some unrealistic sudden change-of-heart but I think the combination of changes all at once including running into someone from her childhood for the first time in years is a way to bring about a fundamental shift in her (otherwise known as a minor mental breakdown).
The Muddy Rudder bar is where you can find Trinnie who grew up in Little Lamplight. Dreamer is from there too and was called that because that was what she was like until the Capital Wasteland robbed her of her hope.
Don't worry back to some action next chapter if you've been missing it.
The story continues...
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XV
Rivet City – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
Sat on the floor of the hotel room, leaning back against the wall, Coyle idly played with a combat knife, spinning it in his hands as he listened and occasionally asked a question. ‘So everyone gets thrown out on their sixteenth birthday?’ he asked Dreamer, as much to keep her mind off worse things as to satisfy his own curiosity.
Up on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chin and her arms looped around her legs like she was trying to pull herself into as tight a ball as possible Dreamer nodded slightly. Trinnie had finally left a few minutes ago after a couple of hours and Allison was off “getting some air”.
‘Okay so where do the replacement kids come from because that’s not exactly a sustainable community and didn’t you say it’s been like this ever since the Great War?’ Coyle asked.
Dreamer lifted her head from her knees. ‘Sometimes girls get pregnant before they’re Mungos but mostly it’s families wanting a better start for their children dropping them off’ she explained. ‘The caverns don’t have much radiation and what there is the fungus we eat takes care of’ she told him. ‘Because the entrance tunnel is narrow raiders or slavers trying to get in can only fit a couple at a time and they soon got sick of getting shot to pieces trying so they’re not a problem either.’
‘But didn’t you say there’s Super-Mutants?’ Coyle queried.
‘Yes, they sometimes used to see them in the deep caverns and set up defences to keep them out of Lamplight years before I was born but they don’t ever seem to go after kids’ Dreamer replied. ‘I don’t know why.’
Coyle finished playing with his knife. ‘If they’re like the Super Mutants back home my guess would be you’re no good for dipping in FEV until you’re all grown up’ he reasoned. ‘The only way they can increase their numbers is to expose humans to the crap, so in some sense they might well regard your old home as a breeding farm for them.’
‘They can’t be that smart’ Dreamer disagreed.
‘I’ve met some that were smarter than most of the humans I’ve known’ Coyle told her. ‘Just because someone looks big and dumb doesn’t mean they are.’
Dreamer sniggered. ‘I suppose so’ she conceded. ‘Sometimes even you say something smart’ she said.
‘You must be feeling better because you’re making me want to throw you in the river again’ Coyle wryly replied, putting the knife to one side and crossing his arms. ‘So after the “Mungos”, nice epithet by the way, are evicted they go to “Big Town” you called it?’
‘Yes, but I don’t know how many really make it there’ Dreamer said, wondering which of the friends she had known growing up had suffered a similar fate than herself during their journey to what they had thought of as the promised land, or maybe one even worse. ‘I just did what they wanted so they wouldn’t hurt me as much’ she said softly. ‘Then later the drugs made it easier.’
Coyle nodded slowly. ‘Then later it was better to be a raider than a slave’ he said flatly.
‘That sounded judgemental’ Dreamer replied.
‘It was, remember I’m a lawman as well as a soldier, I’m obliged to be at least a little unforgiving’ Coyle told her, maintaining some detachment. ‘Just because you got a lousy break doesn’t mean you get a free pass to fuck up other peoples lives.’
Dreamer closed her eyes. ‘I don’t want to be forgiven’ she said.
‘Good because the only people with the right are the ones you’ve killed and they’re past caring one way or the other’ Coyle told her, standing up. ‘Allison will probably want to give you a hug and tell you its all going to be fine from now on’ he said. ‘It’s not true but your tale of woe upset her and she’ll feel better if you go along with it’ he said.
‘She’ll feel better?’ Dreamer queried in confusion, opening her eyes again and looking up at him.
‘Do you think you deserve to feel better now I guess you’re remembering all the shit you did to people that probably didn’t deserve it any more than you earned what happened to you?’ Coyle asked rhetorically.
‘No’ Dreamer replied.
‘Neither do I’ Coyle told her.
‘No need for her to feel bad though’ Dreamer reasoned.
‘Well done’ Coyle praised her, clapping ironically. ‘That’s your empathy kicking in’ he said. ‘You can’t make amends, you can’t turn the clock back but you can try and be a good person from now on and then eventually maybe you’ll deserve to feel better.’
Dreamer thought about that. ‘Have you done things you’re ashamed of?’
‘Yes’ Coyle replied, ‘but that’s my cross to bear so don’t ask what they were.’
‘Do you try to make amends?’ Dreamer asked him.
Coyle laughed. ‘Why do you think when some son-of-a-bitch comes up with volunteer-only jobs like this one I agree to do them?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘I’m perfect for this work because I’ll actually say yes to the job, I’m good enough at what I do to actually succeed most always, and best of all they wouldn’t mind too much if I never made it back anyway because they think I’m a pain in the ass’ he told her.
‘Are you?’
‘One of my better commanding officers said he knew I was smart enough to know when to keep my mouth shut but my problem was that I still didn’t’ Coyle said. ‘Damn perceptive observation for a First Lieutenant I thought at the time’ he added. ‘Look you and Allison can share the bed tonight, it’s not big enough for three comfortably and the floor might be good for my back anyway.’
‘That’s nice of you’ Dreamer told him.
‘Guess underneath it all I’m still a sucker for a sad story’ Coyle supposed, he did feel sorry for her who wouldn’t, he thought? ‘Also if you two decide to get up to something together that I’d like to watch, like a pillow fight in your underwear or something better, make sure to wake me up okay?’ he requested.
‘That Lieutenant guy really did have your number didn’t he?’ Dreamer decided.
‘Yeah’ Coyle replied. ‘It’s a pity that a Brotherhood minigunner had his because those brains were badly wasted when they came flying out the back of his head’ he recalled sadly. ‘His replacement was so dumb you could look in one ear and see daylight on the other side.’
Dreamer frowned. ‘I can’t remember the last guy that had the opportunity to fuck me and didn’t’ she told him, voice starting to tremble slightly. ‘I mean there’s not been much stopping you from using me for a little fun.’
‘Not my type, I prefer willing and ideally enthusiastic’ Coyle replied, moving back away from her slightly. ‘I’d never force myself on a girl’ he said honestly. ‘I’d try every tactic up to and including begging and pleading with her if I was drunk and horny enough though, so don’t go thinking I’m a paragon of virtue or anything though.’
‘Even without the glasses I’d already seen too much of you to believe that before we got here’ Dreamer replied, forcing a smile. ‘Even ignoring all the crap I’ve heard you say.’
‘Just do me a favour and don’t wise Allison up, I think she hasn’t figured out I’m a jerk yet’ Coyle requested only half-in-jest, smiling back.
‘Yes she has, she’s just willing to put up with it’ Dreamer told him.
Coyle thought about that. ‘The fact I had to travel three thousand miles to find a girl that would probably doesn’t say much for either of us’ he observed.
‘You said it’ Dreamer agreed, hoping that the memories of the last few years and the graphic images flashing through her head would stop soon because talking only helped blot them out a little.
The next morning Coyle woke up early and leaving the girls asleep went up to the flight deck to do some exercise in the open air, running circuits to her the heart pumping before performing some basic callisthenics to loosen up the rest of his muscles. He had already decided to leave Rivet City and head into the heart of DC later and it paid to never wander into a potential war-zone if you hadn’t at least stretched a little first.
By the time he had finished exercising and showered it wasn’t too early to expect Sydney to be awake and he went to find her at the “Capitol Preservation Society” run by her most regular employer, an enthusiastic antiquarian patriotically named Abraham Washington. The old man’s knowledge of history was in fact patchy at best but at least somebody here cared enough to try and preserve something of the old world beyond weapon technology and Coyle donated a few caps to the project because his father would have approved too.
Obviously suffering from a mild hangover Sydney nonetheless was still willing to help Coyle fill in a few blanks on where to go and how to get there and even sketched out a basic map of the DC subway system advising which stations and tunnels were best avoided. If he was going to the Mall the safest area was probably the Museum of History because it was home to a large number of civilised, non-feral ghouls and the Super Mutants tended to leave them alone. He certainly wanted to avoid the Capitol Building because it was a stronghold of the mutants, although there was a rumour of someone unknown offering a contract to any mercenary group which wanted the job to clear them out and Talon Company being likely to take it.
After Sydney and Emaline wished him luck, and Coyle took a moment to take a look at the copy of the United States Constitution, which had apparently been recovered from the National Archives twenty years before, the Ranger headed back to his room deciding that a couple of punga fruit for breakfast was perfectly adequate after the heavy dinner of brahmin steak and cornbread the previous night. Because it had been a good while since the last boat coming from the farms to the south of the city had arrived the cornbread had been priced at a premium but it had been worth it because Coyle had grown up eating much the same food and it was comforting, if perhaps heavy in the stomach.
‘So are we letting we go?’ Allison asked when Coyle got back to the room and found her there alone, Dreamer having apparently gone to see Trinnie again.
Coyle shrugged. ‘Seems like the thing to do, I’d probably feel guilty shooting her just on the off chance she was going to slip into recidivism’ he replied. ‘I mean go back to being a raider’ he explained when Allison’s expression indicated he’d found another word she didn’t know.
‘At least this is a safe place and she knows someone’ Allison noted. ‘Could we leave her some money maybe?’
‘I’ve still got the drugs we took from her and the other raiders at the Super-Duper Mart’ Coyle replied. ‘If that place in the market that deals in that stuff will take them I could give some of the caps to Dreamer I suppose’ he said, Allison smiling in response. ‘It wouldn’t be a lot of caps but it’s something to help her start out here with and I guess Trinnie will help her get settled.’
‘I don’t want to stay here’ Dreamer interrupted them from the doorway.
‘Why not, did you have a fight with Trinnie?’ Allison asked.
‘No, we’re good now, she still remembers us being close’ Dreamer replied. ‘I can’t stay here because if I do I’ll end up like her’ she said, ‘downing whisky to forget my problems instead of Jet and earning my living on my back.’
‘Yeah, I guess you don’t have a lot of marketable skills’ Coyle had to agree.
‘I know some raiders become mercenaries when they get sick of it but who’s going to hire a merc that wears these even if I can learn how to shoot properly now?’ Dreamer asked rhetorically, pointing to her glasses. ‘I’m not even sure I’d want that kind of life anyway now’ she added.
‘So where do you want to go if you don’t want to be here?’ Coyle asked. ‘That Big Town place?’
Allison shook her head. ‘Trinnie says it sucks’ she replied. ‘There’s no future there’ she said then looked awkward. ‘Could I just come with you guys?’ she requested.
‘Why the hell would you want to do that?’ Coyle asked, nonplussed.
‘Because I can’t think of anything better to do right now’ Dreamer replied evenly. ‘My head’s not straight and...’ she paused. ‘And I’m worried I’ll end up slitting my wrists or eating a bullet if I have too much time to think about things’ she admitted. ‘That doesn’t seem like it would be a problem hanging around with you.’
‘Ah’ Coyle responded, seeing where she was coming from. ‘Got to admit, I don’t tend to ever seem to have much time for introspection’ he had to agree. ‘You do know that I do tend to get into more than my fair share of fights though?’ he checked.
‘That’s the understatement of the post-apocalypse’ Allison had to comment.
Coyle ignored Allison and kept his attention on Dreamer. ‘I mean your chances of still being alive next month are much better if you stay here than coming with me.’
‘I’ll take my chances’ Dreamer replied fatalistically, if I do die who’d much care anyway at the moment she thought to herself.
‘Okay, just don’t come running to me if some asshole we meet takes a baseball bat to your kneecaps or something’ Coyle told her. ‘Or crawling to me anyway’ he corrected himself before turning to Allison. ‘I’ve worked out a route we can take to Canterbury Commons, crossing the city using the subway tunnels’ he said. ‘After talking to someone in the bar last night I want to make a detour to meet some people in town but assuming we can get through DC alive I should be able to get you at least to somewhere you want to be’ he told her.
Allison blinked. ‘Oh, that’s... that’s great’ she said less than convincingly.
‘That will mean the position of my guide will become available shortly you realise?’ Coyle asked Dreamer. ‘Something for the resume that won’t be a job reference from a raider gang leader’ he joked.
‘Just so you know, if I take the job I’m withdrawing my offer to blow you as part of the deal’ Dreamer replied. ‘That was just the drugs talking’ she told him. ‘Not even if you beg and plead’ she continued before he could reply.
‘I guess Allison mentioned her salary then’ Coyle reasoned. ‘Good thing I kept your sawn-off shotgun and some shells in case I needed something for social occasions’ he said. ‘Just do me a favour and don’t use it on me’ he requested.
‘Or yourself’ Allison added quickly.
‘Not as big an issue in my book but that too’ Coyle agreed.
Leaving Rivet City later Allison couldn’t help but stop for a moment and look back at the rusting hulk as they crossed the gangway. ‘I hope I go back one day’ she said, ‘hopefully with enough caps to stay a while longer.’
‘Seen one old ship turned into a town you’ve seen them all’ Coyle remarked as they reached the other side and started making their way down the entry tower to ground level.
‘And when have you ever seen something like that before?’ Allison asked him dubiously.
‘San Francisco’ Coyle replied smugly. ‘There’s a community living in the old Poseidon Oil Tanker docked in the bay’ he told her. ‘I went there once to see first-hand what my parents had been talking about.’
‘He could just be making it up knowing that the chances of us ever being able to check are close to zero’ Dreamer pointed out.
‘You know that kind of cynicism is the reason I stopped telling people that when I was a kid I once met a talking deathclaw’ Coyle responded sadly.
‘A talking deathclaw?’ Allison repeated, rolling her eyes. It would be a one-headed brahmin next.
‘His name was Goris, he was a friend of my cousin and he liked to read’ Coyle insisted. ‘His claws made it a bitch to flip pages though.’
‘Give it a rest Coyle’ Dreamer advised as they reached the bottom of the tower and started heading towards Ancostia Crossing subway station.
‘Would you believe that in Broken Hills Nevada they used to have a radscorpion that could play chess?’ Coyle asked a few seconds later.
‘No’ Allison and Dreamer said together.
‘You’ve both lost your sense of wonder’ Coyle informed them with pity obvious in his voice.
‘You’ve lost your fucking mind if you really believe that shit you’ve been shovelling’ Dreamer told him.
‘Nice language’ Coyle feigned disapproval. ‘I guess you can take the girl out of the raider gang but you can’t take the raider gang out of the girl’ he said as they reached the defunct escalators which led down to the old subway station. ‘Either of you volunteering to go first?’ he asked.
Dreamer and Allison looked at each other. ‘Is he kidding?’ Dreamer asked. ‘There could be anything down there.’
Coyle smirked and pulled back the cocking lever of his latest firearm, the customised R91 having a suitably clean action. ‘Raiders and Super-Mutants and Ferals, Oh My!’ he sang. ‘Guess it’s me then’ he added, practically skipping down the steps with his backpack and the larger FN-FAL rifle hanging from its sling bouncing against his back.
‘If there isn’t something to kill down there he’ll be heartbroken’ Allison commented.
‘No heart’ Coyle disagreed, ‘plenty of courage though’ he continued, ‘I’ll let you form your own opinion regarding the brains’ he added as he reached the gates at the bottom. ‘So are you coming or not?’ he asked.
‘I suppose so’ Allison replied unenthusiastically, following him down. ‘You’re not claustrophobic are you?’ she asked Dreamer who seemed to be hanging back.
‘No’ Dreamer answered, starting to trot down one of the immobile escalators herself as Coyle pushed open the gates and stepped inside. Lamplighters tended more towards agoraphobia as a rule, Dreamer wasn’t apprehensive about dark, enclosed spaces, it was the things almost inevitably lurking in them that bothered her, and anyone else with any sense.
It wasn’t too dark once he got inside although Coyle had sensibly removed his sunglasses. Other than the occasional pile of rubble the station entrance seemed intact and keeping quiet he kept moving, looking and listening for signs of trouble as the girls let him scout ahead.
Supported by concrete pillars above the subway tunnels at the bottom of the chamber housing the station, the main waiting area showed signs of recent habitation and use though it was currently vacated. Escalators led down to where passengers had once boarded and exited the trains and Coyle looked over the side to make sure there was nobody down there either before he made a closer inspection of the piles of construction material, sandbags and a few half-completed barricades which he had found. ‘I guess nobody is home’ he said as Allison joined him.
‘Are we going down?’ Allison asked.
‘Not yet, we’re heading across the station to the Seward Square entrance’ Coyle told her, pointing past a ticket booth towards another station exit heading up to ground level.
‘I recognise that gang sign’ Dreamer announced, drawing their attention to some graffiti that looked freshly painted on the wall. ‘We’re lucky they aren’t here’ she added seriously.
‘Isn’t long since they were’ Coyle noted, ‘no dust on this stuff I guess they’ve been gathering’ he explained his reasoning for thinking so, kicking a piece of wooden board with his foot. ‘Probably a good idea to get moving before they come back’ he decided not being as keen to constantly get involved in fire-fights as Allison believed based on her experiences with him so far.
‘Where do you think they are?’ Allison asked, looking around.
‘Scavenging for supplies maybe?’ Coyle suggested. ‘Just as long as they aren’t here I don’t rightly care’ he said. ‘My guess would be they plan to fortify the place a little judging from this stuff they’ve dragged here.’
‘If people are using the subway tunnels more to get around town because of the Super-Mutants I can see raiders wanting to control the stations’ Dreamer suggested. ‘Sometimes they don’t kill you, they just charge for passage through their turf if they think you’re useful to them’ she said.
‘Good place to collect tolls, already set up for it’ Coyle agreed, heading through the old ticket barriers towards Seward Square exit.
‘Not sure I like their choice of interior design’ Coyle observed sardonically as he came across a burnt, partially decomposing body hanging from the tunnel ceiling by a hook and chain.
‘Oh God’ Allison gasped as she caught up. ‘What kind of sick...’ she began then remembered the third member of the party was just behind her.
Dreamer looked at the body, expression unreadable. ‘It’s a good way to let passers by know they’re intruding on your turf’ she said, dispassionate in tone though inside she was anything but.
Allison was appalled. ‘But the smell alone...’ she started to say.
‘You get used to it’ Dreamer interrupted her. ‘The drugs help’ she added more quietly.
‘We’re not going to leave him hanging there are we?’ Allison asked. She was reasonably sure the corpse was male.
‘He’s long past the stage at which he gives a shit’ Coyle replied, ‘and I don’t want to touch any more decaying bodies than I have to’ he said. ‘Just add it to the list of memories you try to suppress and let’s get to where we’re headed before we meet the people that put him there’ he advised, turning his back on the grisly sight and resuming his path towards the station exit.
Allison tried to put it out of her mind and followed, while Dreamer delayed a little longer. For some strange reason she had to fight a desire to reach out and touch the corpse even though her stomach was doing flip-flops and the smell made her want to retch. ‘It’s all so real’ she whispered to herself not for the first time before following herself.
The Seward Square exit was only a flight of steps up to the surface rather than the multiple escalators of the main entrance they had entered Anacostia Station from, but the gates opened easily enough and were obviously used as frequently if not more so.
Moving slowly up the steps with his R91 ready Coyle crouched down for the last few and stopped with the top of his helmet just below ground level so he could quickly pop his head up to look around a little and then make his choice whether or not to proceed. Supposedly the area eventually connected up to the rear of the Capitol Building which meant it was a potential super-mutant stomping-ground and, although Coyle knew better than to believe the things were the mindless, bloodthirsty cannibals the locals seemed to think they were, they could still be extremely territorial and aggressive.
‘We’re clear’ Coyle told his companions, taking the last few steps and looking around properly. Some low brick walls that ringed the subway entrance had restricted his line-of-sight but now he was able to get his bearings properly. ‘Nice neighbourhood’ he decided. ‘I mean before the bombs dropped’ he added, looking at some of the town houses across from where he was. Off in the distance along the main road the still intact dome of the Capitol Building towered over the surrounding area and Coyle felt a little like a tourist.
‘We’re not going near that are we?’ Allison asked nervously, pointing towards the former seat of the United State’s legislature before the Great War shattered the nation.
‘No’ Coyle replied, putting his sunglasses back on. ‘Sydney said to take a right when we reach that old store I can already see from here’ he told her, indicating the still intact sign outside the ruined shop down the way that proclaimed “Cornucopia Fresh Groceries”.
‘Good because I don’t want to get eaten’ Allison told him.
‘For the last time, Super-Mutants don’t eat people’ Coyle responded, rolling his eyes behind his shades as he began walking towards the old store, it wasn’t much more than a couple of minutes walk away even at a slow pace which was advisable given the piles of rubble underfoot.
Coyle wasn’t certain whether he believed in the ancestral spirits or not. Some of his mother’s tribe said they could feel their forefathers watching over them, others including his cousin claimed to have received visions and made prophecies which did seem to come true a little too often to dismiss out-of-hand, but if anything the best evidence of the spirits to Coyle was the way that life seemed to enjoy screwing with him in ways that would be humorous to incorporeal observers even if they monumentally sucked for him.
This being one of those times Coyle froze as an eight-foot tall super-mutant carrying a large board with a nail sticking out of it in one hand and what was obviously a human leg in the other stepped out from the side-street. Half-way though taking another bite out of the leg the mutant froze as well, staring back at the three humans now staring at him.
Coyle regained his composure first. ‘Hey man, how are you doing?’ he asked politely.
‘Shoot it’ Allison cried out.
‘We’re just passing through’ Coyle continued, ignoring her. ‘Like your meat done rare I see’ he said, indicating the leg which looked like it had been yanked off its previous owner by brute force. ‘Can’t say I blame you, I like my steak a little bloody too.’
The super-mutant let go of its meal. ‘I’ll wear your spine around my neck human!’ it bellowed, raising the nail board to strike just as Coyle brought up Wanda’s barrel and pulled the trigger.
The customised R91 fired a burst of 5.56mm directly into the face of the super-mutant, riddling its face with bullets, smashing out teeth, shattering its jaw and blinding it. Several of the rounds managed to punch on through the thick skull at such a close range and turned the mutant’s brain to mush.
The super-mutant staggered on for a moment then collapsed to the ground still twitching. If Coyle had thought that was the end of it he had grossly overestimated his luck, or underestimated the spirits desire to screw with him, because with an animalistic roar another of the things, this one armed with a hunting-rifle, appeared fifty yards off and started firing from the hip at the humans. Behind it more of the FEV mutated humans were coming too and they didn’t look happy. ‘No more games... time to die!’ one growled at him holding a large sledgehammer aloft in challenge.
Even with the heavy backpack Coyle could have likely outrun the things, and the girls could have certainly, but as usual his defective fight-or-flight reflex immediately vetoed the latter option and instead he found a pile of rubble and after shrugging off his backpack beside him he dropped to one knee behind the rubble for cover and a steadier firing platform and began to fire a rapid series of short bursts at the super-mutant already firing at him, though with considerably greater success.
Aiming centre mass because the R91 wasn’t exactly the most accurate rifle ever made Coyle had to put three bursts into super-mutant before it went down but the thing never managed to hit him once. ‘Firing from the hip, never a good idea’ he said to himself as he switched targets to the one with the sledgehammer which was now charging right at him.
Coyle fired two more short bursts emptying his magazine but although slowed the mutant didn’t stop. He was about to drop his R91 and draw his Desert Eagle when with the crack of another rifle behind him the super-mutant with the sledgehammer caught a .32 calibre round in the face which stopped it in its tracks. It dropped the improvised melee weapon and half stumbled, clutching at its head until another round, this one to the chest, put it down for good.
‘Good work’ Coyle said, reloading his R91. Along with the customised assault rifle Sydney had supplied half-a-dozen extended magazines which carried thirty rounds instead of the standard twenty-four and that extra few rounds before it clicked empty could be a lifesaver. ‘Find cover and shoot from there sweetheart.’
‘Why aren’t we running?’ Allison yelled at him, working the bolt of her hunting rifle again as she looked for somewhere she could shoot from that would soak up bullets coming the other way.
‘Because so far we’re winning’ Coyle told her, starting to fire again.
‘He’s cracked’ Dreamer exclaimed as bullets started to wing past them, it looked like more and more of the monsters were coming, probably attracted by the sound of gunfire, and staying here to fight them was clearly an act of insanity.
‘And you’re just realising this now?’ Allison responded sarcastically, dropping behind a low wall that looked like it would stop a bullet and she could fire over the top of, ducking behind it when she needed to reload.
Most of the super-mutants seemed to be armed with old bolt-action rifles though at least three had R91’s of their own and two more had sledgehammers these becoming the priority target if only because they came running while the ones with firearms were merely walking towards the humans shooting as they went.
It took at least three times as much lead to bring down one of the things as a human and that only got worse if they were wearing makeshift metal armour like the mutants carrying the assault-rifles seemed to be. Possibly because their rifles were designed for humans of much smaller stature none of them were aiming properly however which was a good thing and they started firing far beyond the effective range of their weapons if you weren’t bothering to use the sights. In fact as well as the apparent cannibalism and the difference in coloration Coyle was quickly reaching the conclusion that these East Coast Super-Mutants were also different to the ones back home in terms of intelligence, to be frank so far they all seemed dumb as rocks.
The original Super-Mutants created by the Master did vary a lot by intelligence but they understood this and would place the ones with more brains in positions of authority, with Soopie sergeants and officers giving orders to the less intellectually gifted grunts. They had even used basic tactics such as flanking manoeuvres and they utilised cover fire, what they did not do was walk slowly towards you firing from the hip like they had a sign around their necks saying “shoot me, I’m a great big fat, slow-moving target”. Well they didn’t unless they were toting heavy weapons anyway.
‘Okay, fuck this peashooter shit’ Coyle said as he finished the third magazine from his R91. It just took too many bullets to stop one of the damn things unless you hit something vital and Wanda was not a precision instrument.
Coyle put down the R91 and reached for his backpack. This wasn’t assault rifle time any more, this was battle-rifle time he decided taking hold of his FN-FAL.
Firing from a position behind Coyle and slightly off to his left Allison didn’t have quite as good a field of view but she had better cover and plenty to shoot at nonetheless. Although they looked terrifying and didn’t go down when you shot them like they should she had quickly learned that they were very easy to hit and blowing holes in them made it easier to put aside the fear that was screaming at her to run away.
Dreamer squatting beside her had no such luxury. Her sawn-off shotgun was useless at much more than point-blank range and besides which she doubted that buckshot would do much more than piss the things off.
‘Loading’ Allison said, ducking down once more to transfer another five rounds from her bandolier to her hunting rifle. At least she had plenty of .32 cartridges on her thanks to all the ones they had taken from raiders and others.
‘We need to run away’ Dreamer insisted. ‘We can’t stop them’ she declared.
‘Wanna bet’ Allison replied as the distinctive boom of Coyle’s FN-FAL started to sound out, echoing off the buildings.
‘Oh yeah, that’s the shit!’ Coyle enthused as he blew the head off one of the local less-than-super mutants, their thick skulls might offer some protection from 5.56mm NATO but the mixed twenty-round magazine of 7.62x51mm and it’s near identical sister-cartridge .308 Winchester now being fired at them was another matter entirely, especially at under a hundred yards.
It said something for the mutants that not even a headshot from the FN-FAL was usually an instant one-shot-kill but even so the first magazine alone from the battle-rifle took down seven of the things as they continued to arrive in dwindling numbers. Five more were severely wounded with Allison having the initiative to target the already injured with her own less powerful rifle finishing them off as best she could while Coyle reloaded.
‘You’re just lucky I’m not using my M72’ Coyle cackled as he chambered the first round from his second magazine and brought the FN-FAL up again. ‘Nice armour’ he said, smirking as he shot one of the R91 wielding mutants right in the face and then switched targets because although it didn’t go down it practically collapsed with blood pouring from the gaping wound.
‘Holy shit we’re winning’ Dreamer said in astonishment as she stuck her head above the wall for a look-see.
‘What do you mean we?’ Allison responded curtly, working the bolt of her rifle for the umpteenth time and taking aim once more.
‘Too expensive, too expensive’ Coyle told himself, reluctantly switching back to his R91 after using up half the second magazine in his FN-FAL. He’d broken the backs of the opposition now at least, with the majority lying dead and most of the remainder wounded to a greater or lesser degree. ‘I am the grim reaper, death incarnate’ he told himself, ‘and it is time to finish this’ he said, getting into a stance like a sprinter at the blocks before starting to move with his eyes ablaze behind his sunglasses.
Coyle ran down the closest enemy which managed to hit him with a round from its hunting-rifle, the round careering off his armour before Coyle turned it into a colander with half of Wanda’s magazine.
The remainder of the R91’s ammunition took down a pair of wounded mutants and Coyle dropped the rifle drawing his MP9 instead as he continued his insane charge.
‘Oh my God!’ Allison exclaimed in disbelief as she watched him suddenly change direction on the run wielding the MP9 like it was a small pistol he started taking the remaining creatures apart, shredding them with the 10mm SMG going full-auto in his right hand.
The sub-machinegun soon empty of ammunition itself Coyle let it drop too and now smoothly pulled his Desert Eagle from its holster with his left hand. It was like he was blessed or something Allison watched in awe, bullets going past him but never making contact as he took on what was now the last three remaining mutants.
Diving sideways to avoid fire from the last super-mutant with an R91 Coyle put three rounds of .44 magnum into its armoured chest to at least give it pause and then kneecapped it, sending it crashing down.
Aiming up from the ground where he had landed four more .44 magnum slugs from his Eagle took down another of the opposition and seeing that the third and last was reloading Coyle simply got up, walked over to it and shot it point-blank in the right eye with his final bullet ending the fight before he holstered the pistol again.
A few of the wounded mutants were still alive, writhing and moaning on the ground, and Coyle bent down to pick up an R91. As Allison arrived he was going to each wounded enemy in turn, putting the barrel of the assault rifle to their head and pulling the trigger to finish them off. ‘Hi Honey’ he greeted her, ‘nice shooting’ he said, pulling the trigger to put another one out of its misery.
Allison looked around. ‘They’re all dead’ she gasped.
‘No, but if you’ll give me a minute they will be’ Coyle replied, wandering over to the next mutant that was still moving.
‘What the hell were you thinking attacking them at the end like that?’ Allison demanded to know.
Coyle shrugged. ‘Seemed like the thing to do at the time’ he replied, putting down the next mutant with a single shot. ‘Good haul of rifles and ammunition from these things at least’ he said brightly. ‘Might have to break a few rifles down for replacement parts though, they don’t look well maintained’ he added regretfully.
Dreamer arrived looking around in amazement. ‘Do you know what you just did?’ she asked rhetorically.
‘Gunned down a bunch of muscle-bound morons’ Coyle replied. ‘To be fair we were in a good position to hit most of them at long range when they were at a severe disadvantage’ he said. ‘Close-in they’d be a lot more dangerous because they do take a lot of killing and you might not be able to hurt them enough before they ripped your head off’ he observed. ‘Could you start collecting guns and ammo?’ he requested.
‘I wouldn’t even know how to describe this to someone’ Dreamer stated, shaking her head.
Coyle looked thoughtful. ‘It’s about three-hundred and seventy-five millicoyles on the standard scale but it only scored that high because of the stylish way I ended the fight’ he told her.
‘Millicoyles?’ Dreamer queried in confusion.
‘I’ll explain later’ Allison told her.
After finishing off the last wounded mutant Coyle went to retrieve his own weapons, handing the R91 he had been using for the task to Dreamer. ‘Come on, times-a-wasting’ he said. ‘If we’re lucky the people we’re going to see will accept a few of these weapons as part exchange for their fee’ he said hopefully, picking up his MP9.
‘What people?’ Allison wanted to know. ‘Why did we come here?’ she asked.
‘Oh, sorry should have said’ Coyle apologised. ‘There’s a mercenary outfit based near here that I’ve got a job for’ he said. ‘I figure I could spend months trying to put together a proper map of this area so I’m going to see if they’ll do it for me, or maybe sub-contract the work onto some other schmuck if they’re too busy’ he continued. ‘Call me superstitious but once I heard what they called themselves I sort of took it as a sign’ he admitted, wondering how much these “Reilly’s Rangers” mercs might charge him for the work and hoping a few hundred caps, and now perhaps some super-mutant rifles, would be an acceptable deposit.
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Note from the Author:
I hope I've managed to make Little Lamplight make a touch more sense there than it did as presented in the game.
Goris was a talking deathclaw in FO2 who the Chosen One could take along as a companion, like the chess-playing radscorpion in Broken Hills Goris was of course the product of genetic engineering designed to increase intelligence. Rivet City wasn't the first ship used as a town in Fallout either of course.
Anacostia Station was a raider base in F03, they're still in the process of moving in at this point, more on that later. Both super-mutants and Reilly's Rangers can be found in the Seward Square area, I think it's pretty funny that the mapping job the Lone Wanderer in FO3 can get from Reilly is actually being done for Coyle!
The Sniper Rifle in FO3 fires the same ammunition as the FN-FAL and is a much more effective means to take out super-mutants than a inaccurate assault rifle. Coyle's battle-rifle is an accurate, hard-hitting semi-auto and comes with a twenty-round magazine... it's great for head-shotting large numbers of East Coast Supermutants in succession and Coyle has all the right perks to use it to full advantage!
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XV
Rivet City – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
Sat on the floor of the hotel room, leaning back against the wall, Coyle idly played with a combat knife, spinning it in his hands as he listened and occasionally asked a question. ‘So everyone gets thrown out on their sixteenth birthday?’ he asked Dreamer, as much to keep her mind off worse things as to satisfy his own curiosity.
Up on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chin and her arms looped around her legs like she was trying to pull herself into as tight a ball as possible Dreamer nodded slightly. Trinnie had finally left a few minutes ago after a couple of hours and Allison was off “getting some air”.
‘Okay so where do the replacement kids come from because that’s not exactly a sustainable community and didn’t you say it’s been like this ever since the Great War?’ Coyle asked.
Dreamer lifted her head from her knees. ‘Sometimes girls get pregnant before they’re Mungos but mostly it’s families wanting a better start for their children dropping them off’ she explained. ‘The caverns don’t have much radiation and what there is the fungus we eat takes care of’ she told him. ‘Because the entrance tunnel is narrow raiders or slavers trying to get in can only fit a couple at a time and they soon got sick of getting shot to pieces trying so they’re not a problem either.’
‘But didn’t you say there’s Super-Mutants?’ Coyle queried.
‘Yes, they sometimes used to see them in the deep caverns and set up defences to keep them out of Lamplight years before I was born but they don’t ever seem to go after kids’ Dreamer replied. ‘I don’t know why.’
Coyle finished playing with his knife. ‘If they’re like the Super Mutants back home my guess would be you’re no good for dipping in FEV until you’re all grown up’ he reasoned. ‘The only way they can increase their numbers is to expose humans to the crap, so in some sense they might well regard your old home as a breeding farm for them.’
‘They can’t be that smart’ Dreamer disagreed.
‘I’ve met some that were smarter than most of the humans I’ve known’ Coyle told her. ‘Just because someone looks big and dumb doesn’t mean they are.’
Dreamer sniggered. ‘I suppose so’ she conceded. ‘Sometimes even you say something smart’ she said.
‘You must be feeling better because you’re making me want to throw you in the river again’ Coyle wryly replied, putting the knife to one side and crossing his arms. ‘So after the “Mungos”, nice epithet by the way, are evicted they go to “Big Town” you called it?’
‘Yes, but I don’t know how many really make it there’ Dreamer said, wondering which of the friends she had known growing up had suffered a similar fate than herself during their journey to what they had thought of as the promised land, or maybe one even worse. ‘I just did what they wanted so they wouldn’t hurt me as much’ she said softly. ‘Then later the drugs made it easier.’
Coyle nodded slowly. ‘Then later it was better to be a raider than a slave’ he said flatly.
‘That sounded judgemental’ Dreamer replied.
‘It was, remember I’m a lawman as well as a soldier, I’m obliged to be at least a little unforgiving’ Coyle told her, maintaining some detachment. ‘Just because you got a lousy break doesn’t mean you get a free pass to fuck up other peoples lives.’
Dreamer closed her eyes. ‘I don’t want to be forgiven’ she said.
‘Good because the only people with the right are the ones you’ve killed and they’re past caring one way or the other’ Coyle told her, standing up. ‘Allison will probably want to give you a hug and tell you its all going to be fine from now on’ he said. ‘It’s not true but your tale of woe upset her and she’ll feel better if you go along with it’ he said.
‘She’ll feel better?’ Dreamer queried in confusion, opening her eyes again and looking up at him.
‘Do you think you deserve to feel better now I guess you’re remembering all the shit you did to people that probably didn’t deserve it any more than you earned what happened to you?’ Coyle asked rhetorically.
‘No’ Dreamer replied.
‘Neither do I’ Coyle told her.
‘No need for her to feel bad though’ Dreamer reasoned.
‘Well done’ Coyle praised her, clapping ironically. ‘That’s your empathy kicking in’ he said. ‘You can’t make amends, you can’t turn the clock back but you can try and be a good person from now on and then eventually maybe you’ll deserve to feel better.’
Dreamer thought about that. ‘Have you done things you’re ashamed of?’
‘Yes’ Coyle replied, ‘but that’s my cross to bear so don’t ask what they were.’
‘Do you try to make amends?’ Dreamer asked him.
Coyle laughed. ‘Why do you think when some son-of-a-bitch comes up with volunteer-only jobs like this one I agree to do them?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘I’m perfect for this work because I’ll actually say yes to the job, I’m good enough at what I do to actually succeed most always, and best of all they wouldn’t mind too much if I never made it back anyway because they think I’m a pain in the ass’ he told her.
‘Are you?’
‘One of my better commanding officers said he knew I was smart enough to know when to keep my mouth shut but my problem was that I still didn’t’ Coyle said. ‘Damn perceptive observation for a First Lieutenant I thought at the time’ he added. ‘Look you and Allison can share the bed tonight, it’s not big enough for three comfortably and the floor might be good for my back anyway.’
‘That’s nice of you’ Dreamer told him.
‘Guess underneath it all I’m still a sucker for a sad story’ Coyle supposed, he did feel sorry for her who wouldn’t, he thought? ‘Also if you two decide to get up to something together that I’d like to watch, like a pillow fight in your underwear or something better, make sure to wake me up okay?’ he requested.
‘That Lieutenant guy really did have your number didn’t he?’ Dreamer decided.
‘Yeah’ Coyle replied. ‘It’s a pity that a Brotherhood minigunner had his because those brains were badly wasted when they came flying out the back of his head’ he recalled sadly. ‘His replacement was so dumb you could look in one ear and see daylight on the other side.’
Dreamer frowned. ‘I can’t remember the last guy that had the opportunity to fuck me and didn’t’ she told him, voice starting to tremble slightly. ‘I mean there’s not been much stopping you from using me for a little fun.’
‘Not my type, I prefer willing and ideally enthusiastic’ Coyle replied, moving back away from her slightly. ‘I’d never force myself on a girl’ he said honestly. ‘I’d try every tactic up to and including begging and pleading with her if I was drunk and horny enough though, so don’t go thinking I’m a paragon of virtue or anything though.’
‘Even without the glasses I’d already seen too much of you to believe that before we got here’ Dreamer replied, forcing a smile. ‘Even ignoring all the crap I’ve heard you say.’
‘Just do me a favour and don’t wise Allison up, I think she hasn’t figured out I’m a jerk yet’ Coyle requested only half-in-jest, smiling back.
‘Yes she has, she’s just willing to put up with it’ Dreamer told him.
Coyle thought about that. ‘The fact I had to travel three thousand miles to find a girl that would probably doesn’t say much for either of us’ he observed.
‘You said it’ Dreamer agreed, hoping that the memories of the last few years and the graphic images flashing through her head would stop soon because talking only helped blot them out a little.
The next morning Coyle woke up early and leaving the girls asleep went up to the flight deck to do some exercise in the open air, running circuits to her the heart pumping before performing some basic callisthenics to loosen up the rest of his muscles. He had already decided to leave Rivet City and head into the heart of DC later and it paid to never wander into a potential war-zone if you hadn’t at least stretched a little first.
By the time he had finished exercising and showered it wasn’t too early to expect Sydney to be awake and he went to find her at the “Capitol Preservation Society” run by her most regular employer, an enthusiastic antiquarian patriotically named Abraham Washington. The old man’s knowledge of history was in fact patchy at best but at least somebody here cared enough to try and preserve something of the old world beyond weapon technology and Coyle donated a few caps to the project because his father would have approved too.
Obviously suffering from a mild hangover Sydney nonetheless was still willing to help Coyle fill in a few blanks on where to go and how to get there and even sketched out a basic map of the DC subway system advising which stations and tunnels were best avoided. If he was going to the Mall the safest area was probably the Museum of History because it was home to a large number of civilised, non-feral ghouls and the Super Mutants tended to leave them alone. He certainly wanted to avoid the Capitol Building because it was a stronghold of the mutants, although there was a rumour of someone unknown offering a contract to any mercenary group which wanted the job to clear them out and Talon Company being likely to take it.
After Sydney and Emaline wished him luck, and Coyle took a moment to take a look at the copy of the United States Constitution, which had apparently been recovered from the National Archives twenty years before, the Ranger headed back to his room deciding that a couple of punga fruit for breakfast was perfectly adequate after the heavy dinner of brahmin steak and cornbread the previous night. Because it had been a good while since the last boat coming from the farms to the south of the city had arrived the cornbread had been priced at a premium but it had been worth it because Coyle had grown up eating much the same food and it was comforting, if perhaps heavy in the stomach.
‘So are we letting we go?’ Allison asked when Coyle got back to the room and found her there alone, Dreamer having apparently gone to see Trinnie again.
Coyle shrugged. ‘Seems like the thing to do, I’d probably feel guilty shooting her just on the off chance she was going to slip into recidivism’ he replied. ‘I mean go back to being a raider’ he explained when Allison’s expression indicated he’d found another word she didn’t know.
‘At least this is a safe place and she knows someone’ Allison noted. ‘Could we leave her some money maybe?’
‘I’ve still got the drugs we took from her and the other raiders at the Super-Duper Mart’ Coyle replied. ‘If that place in the market that deals in that stuff will take them I could give some of the caps to Dreamer I suppose’ he said, Allison smiling in response. ‘It wouldn’t be a lot of caps but it’s something to help her start out here with and I guess Trinnie will help her get settled.’
‘I don’t want to stay here’ Dreamer interrupted them from the doorway.
‘Why not, did you have a fight with Trinnie?’ Allison asked.
‘No, we’re good now, she still remembers us being close’ Dreamer replied. ‘I can’t stay here because if I do I’ll end up like her’ she said, ‘downing whisky to forget my problems instead of Jet and earning my living on my back.’
‘Yeah, I guess you don’t have a lot of marketable skills’ Coyle had to agree.
‘I know some raiders become mercenaries when they get sick of it but who’s going to hire a merc that wears these even if I can learn how to shoot properly now?’ Dreamer asked rhetorically, pointing to her glasses. ‘I’m not even sure I’d want that kind of life anyway now’ she added.
‘So where do you want to go if you don’t want to be here?’ Coyle asked. ‘That Big Town place?’
Allison shook her head. ‘Trinnie says it sucks’ she replied. ‘There’s no future there’ she said then looked awkward. ‘Could I just come with you guys?’ she requested.
‘Why the hell would you want to do that?’ Coyle asked, nonplussed.
‘Because I can’t think of anything better to do right now’ Dreamer replied evenly. ‘My head’s not straight and...’ she paused. ‘And I’m worried I’ll end up slitting my wrists or eating a bullet if I have too much time to think about things’ she admitted. ‘That doesn’t seem like it would be a problem hanging around with you.’
‘Ah’ Coyle responded, seeing where she was coming from. ‘Got to admit, I don’t tend to ever seem to have much time for introspection’ he had to agree. ‘You do know that I do tend to get into more than my fair share of fights though?’ he checked.
‘That’s the understatement of the post-apocalypse’ Allison had to comment.
Coyle ignored Allison and kept his attention on Dreamer. ‘I mean your chances of still being alive next month are much better if you stay here than coming with me.’
‘I’ll take my chances’ Dreamer replied fatalistically, if I do die who’d much care anyway at the moment she thought to herself.
‘Okay, just don’t come running to me if some asshole we meet takes a baseball bat to your kneecaps or something’ Coyle told her. ‘Or crawling to me anyway’ he corrected himself before turning to Allison. ‘I’ve worked out a route we can take to Canterbury Commons, crossing the city using the subway tunnels’ he said. ‘After talking to someone in the bar last night I want to make a detour to meet some people in town but assuming we can get through DC alive I should be able to get you at least to somewhere you want to be’ he told her.
Allison blinked. ‘Oh, that’s... that’s great’ she said less than convincingly.
‘That will mean the position of my guide will become available shortly you realise?’ Coyle asked Dreamer. ‘Something for the resume that won’t be a job reference from a raider gang leader’ he joked.
‘Just so you know, if I take the job I’m withdrawing my offer to blow you as part of the deal’ Dreamer replied. ‘That was just the drugs talking’ she told him. ‘Not even if you beg and plead’ she continued before he could reply.
‘I guess Allison mentioned her salary then’ Coyle reasoned. ‘Good thing I kept your sawn-off shotgun and some shells in case I needed something for social occasions’ he said. ‘Just do me a favour and don’t use it on me’ he requested.
‘Or yourself’ Allison added quickly.
‘Not as big an issue in my book but that too’ Coyle agreed.
Leaving Rivet City later Allison couldn’t help but stop for a moment and look back at the rusting hulk as they crossed the gangway. ‘I hope I go back one day’ she said, ‘hopefully with enough caps to stay a while longer.’
‘Seen one old ship turned into a town you’ve seen them all’ Coyle remarked as they reached the other side and started making their way down the entry tower to ground level.
‘And when have you ever seen something like that before?’ Allison asked him dubiously.
‘San Francisco’ Coyle replied smugly. ‘There’s a community living in the old Poseidon Oil Tanker docked in the bay’ he told her. ‘I went there once to see first-hand what my parents had been talking about.’
‘He could just be making it up knowing that the chances of us ever being able to check are close to zero’ Dreamer pointed out.
‘You know that kind of cynicism is the reason I stopped telling people that when I was a kid I once met a talking deathclaw’ Coyle responded sadly.
‘A talking deathclaw?’ Allison repeated, rolling her eyes. It would be a one-headed brahmin next.
‘His name was Goris, he was a friend of my cousin and he liked to read’ Coyle insisted. ‘His claws made it a bitch to flip pages though.’
‘Give it a rest Coyle’ Dreamer advised as they reached the bottom of the tower and started heading towards Ancostia Crossing subway station.
‘Would you believe that in Broken Hills Nevada they used to have a radscorpion that could play chess?’ Coyle asked a few seconds later.
‘No’ Allison and Dreamer said together.
‘You’ve both lost your sense of wonder’ Coyle informed them with pity obvious in his voice.
‘You’ve lost your fucking mind if you really believe that shit you’ve been shovelling’ Dreamer told him.
‘Nice language’ Coyle feigned disapproval. ‘I guess you can take the girl out of the raider gang but you can’t take the raider gang out of the girl’ he said as they reached the defunct escalators which led down to the old subway station. ‘Either of you volunteering to go first?’ he asked.
Dreamer and Allison looked at each other. ‘Is he kidding?’ Dreamer asked. ‘There could be anything down there.’
Coyle smirked and pulled back the cocking lever of his latest firearm, the customised R91 having a suitably clean action. ‘Raiders and Super-Mutants and Ferals, Oh My!’ he sang. ‘Guess it’s me then’ he added, practically skipping down the steps with his backpack and the larger FN-FAL rifle hanging from its sling bouncing against his back.
‘If there isn’t something to kill down there he’ll be heartbroken’ Allison commented.
‘No heart’ Coyle disagreed, ‘plenty of courage though’ he continued, ‘I’ll let you form your own opinion regarding the brains’ he added as he reached the gates at the bottom. ‘So are you coming or not?’ he asked.
‘I suppose so’ Allison replied unenthusiastically, following him down. ‘You’re not claustrophobic are you?’ she asked Dreamer who seemed to be hanging back.
‘No’ Dreamer answered, starting to trot down one of the immobile escalators herself as Coyle pushed open the gates and stepped inside. Lamplighters tended more towards agoraphobia as a rule, Dreamer wasn’t apprehensive about dark, enclosed spaces, it was the things almost inevitably lurking in them that bothered her, and anyone else with any sense.
It wasn’t too dark once he got inside although Coyle had sensibly removed his sunglasses. Other than the occasional pile of rubble the station entrance seemed intact and keeping quiet he kept moving, looking and listening for signs of trouble as the girls let him scout ahead.
Supported by concrete pillars above the subway tunnels at the bottom of the chamber housing the station, the main waiting area showed signs of recent habitation and use though it was currently vacated. Escalators led down to where passengers had once boarded and exited the trains and Coyle looked over the side to make sure there was nobody down there either before he made a closer inspection of the piles of construction material, sandbags and a few half-completed barricades which he had found. ‘I guess nobody is home’ he said as Allison joined him.
‘Are we going down?’ Allison asked.
‘Not yet, we’re heading across the station to the Seward Square entrance’ Coyle told her, pointing past a ticket booth towards another station exit heading up to ground level.
‘I recognise that gang sign’ Dreamer announced, drawing their attention to some graffiti that looked freshly painted on the wall. ‘We’re lucky they aren’t here’ she added seriously.
‘Isn’t long since they were’ Coyle noted, ‘no dust on this stuff I guess they’ve been gathering’ he explained his reasoning for thinking so, kicking a piece of wooden board with his foot. ‘Probably a good idea to get moving before they come back’ he decided not being as keen to constantly get involved in fire-fights as Allison believed based on her experiences with him so far.
‘Where do you think they are?’ Allison asked, looking around.
‘Scavenging for supplies maybe?’ Coyle suggested. ‘Just as long as they aren’t here I don’t rightly care’ he said. ‘My guess would be they plan to fortify the place a little judging from this stuff they’ve dragged here.’
‘If people are using the subway tunnels more to get around town because of the Super-Mutants I can see raiders wanting to control the stations’ Dreamer suggested. ‘Sometimes they don’t kill you, they just charge for passage through their turf if they think you’re useful to them’ she said.
‘Good place to collect tolls, already set up for it’ Coyle agreed, heading through the old ticket barriers towards Seward Square exit.
‘Not sure I like their choice of interior design’ Coyle observed sardonically as he came across a burnt, partially decomposing body hanging from the tunnel ceiling by a hook and chain.
‘Oh God’ Allison gasped as she caught up. ‘What kind of sick...’ she began then remembered the third member of the party was just behind her.
Dreamer looked at the body, expression unreadable. ‘It’s a good way to let passers by know they’re intruding on your turf’ she said, dispassionate in tone though inside she was anything but.
Allison was appalled. ‘But the smell alone...’ she started to say.
‘You get used to it’ Dreamer interrupted her. ‘The drugs help’ she added more quietly.
‘We’re not going to leave him hanging there are we?’ Allison asked. She was reasonably sure the corpse was male.
‘He’s long past the stage at which he gives a shit’ Coyle replied, ‘and I don’t want to touch any more decaying bodies than I have to’ he said. ‘Just add it to the list of memories you try to suppress and let’s get to where we’re headed before we meet the people that put him there’ he advised, turning his back on the grisly sight and resuming his path towards the station exit.
Allison tried to put it out of her mind and followed, while Dreamer delayed a little longer. For some strange reason she had to fight a desire to reach out and touch the corpse even though her stomach was doing flip-flops and the smell made her want to retch. ‘It’s all so real’ she whispered to herself not for the first time before following herself.
The Seward Square exit was only a flight of steps up to the surface rather than the multiple escalators of the main entrance they had entered Anacostia Station from, but the gates opened easily enough and were obviously used as frequently if not more so.
Moving slowly up the steps with his R91 ready Coyle crouched down for the last few and stopped with the top of his helmet just below ground level so he could quickly pop his head up to look around a little and then make his choice whether or not to proceed. Supposedly the area eventually connected up to the rear of the Capitol Building which meant it was a potential super-mutant stomping-ground and, although Coyle knew better than to believe the things were the mindless, bloodthirsty cannibals the locals seemed to think they were, they could still be extremely territorial and aggressive.
‘We’re clear’ Coyle told his companions, taking the last few steps and looking around properly. Some low brick walls that ringed the subway entrance had restricted his line-of-sight but now he was able to get his bearings properly. ‘Nice neighbourhood’ he decided. ‘I mean before the bombs dropped’ he added, looking at some of the town houses across from where he was. Off in the distance along the main road the still intact dome of the Capitol Building towered over the surrounding area and Coyle felt a little like a tourist.
‘We’re not going near that are we?’ Allison asked nervously, pointing towards the former seat of the United State’s legislature before the Great War shattered the nation.
‘No’ Coyle replied, putting his sunglasses back on. ‘Sydney said to take a right when we reach that old store I can already see from here’ he told her, indicating the still intact sign outside the ruined shop down the way that proclaimed “Cornucopia Fresh Groceries”.
‘Good because I don’t want to get eaten’ Allison told him.
‘For the last time, Super-Mutants don’t eat people’ Coyle responded, rolling his eyes behind his shades as he began walking towards the old store, it wasn’t much more than a couple of minutes walk away even at a slow pace which was advisable given the piles of rubble underfoot.
Coyle wasn’t certain whether he believed in the ancestral spirits or not. Some of his mother’s tribe said they could feel their forefathers watching over them, others including his cousin claimed to have received visions and made prophecies which did seem to come true a little too often to dismiss out-of-hand, but if anything the best evidence of the spirits to Coyle was the way that life seemed to enjoy screwing with him in ways that would be humorous to incorporeal observers even if they monumentally sucked for him.
This being one of those times Coyle froze as an eight-foot tall super-mutant carrying a large board with a nail sticking out of it in one hand and what was obviously a human leg in the other stepped out from the side-street. Half-way though taking another bite out of the leg the mutant froze as well, staring back at the three humans now staring at him.
Coyle regained his composure first. ‘Hey man, how are you doing?’ he asked politely.
‘Shoot it’ Allison cried out.
‘We’re just passing through’ Coyle continued, ignoring her. ‘Like your meat done rare I see’ he said, indicating the leg which looked like it had been yanked off its previous owner by brute force. ‘Can’t say I blame you, I like my steak a little bloody too.’
The super-mutant let go of its meal. ‘I’ll wear your spine around my neck human!’ it bellowed, raising the nail board to strike just as Coyle brought up Wanda’s barrel and pulled the trigger.
The customised R91 fired a burst of 5.56mm directly into the face of the super-mutant, riddling its face with bullets, smashing out teeth, shattering its jaw and blinding it. Several of the rounds managed to punch on through the thick skull at such a close range and turned the mutant’s brain to mush.
The super-mutant staggered on for a moment then collapsed to the ground still twitching. If Coyle had thought that was the end of it he had grossly overestimated his luck, or underestimated the spirits desire to screw with him, because with an animalistic roar another of the things, this one armed with a hunting-rifle, appeared fifty yards off and started firing from the hip at the humans. Behind it more of the FEV mutated humans were coming too and they didn’t look happy. ‘No more games... time to die!’ one growled at him holding a large sledgehammer aloft in challenge.
Even with the heavy backpack Coyle could have likely outrun the things, and the girls could have certainly, but as usual his defective fight-or-flight reflex immediately vetoed the latter option and instead he found a pile of rubble and after shrugging off his backpack beside him he dropped to one knee behind the rubble for cover and a steadier firing platform and began to fire a rapid series of short bursts at the super-mutant already firing at him, though with considerably greater success.
Aiming centre mass because the R91 wasn’t exactly the most accurate rifle ever made Coyle had to put three bursts into super-mutant before it went down but the thing never managed to hit him once. ‘Firing from the hip, never a good idea’ he said to himself as he switched targets to the one with the sledgehammer which was now charging right at him.
Coyle fired two more short bursts emptying his magazine but although slowed the mutant didn’t stop. He was about to drop his R91 and draw his Desert Eagle when with the crack of another rifle behind him the super-mutant with the sledgehammer caught a .32 calibre round in the face which stopped it in its tracks. It dropped the improvised melee weapon and half stumbled, clutching at its head until another round, this one to the chest, put it down for good.
‘Good work’ Coyle said, reloading his R91. Along with the customised assault rifle Sydney had supplied half-a-dozen extended magazines which carried thirty rounds instead of the standard twenty-four and that extra few rounds before it clicked empty could be a lifesaver. ‘Find cover and shoot from there sweetheart.’
‘Why aren’t we running?’ Allison yelled at him, working the bolt of her hunting rifle again as she looked for somewhere she could shoot from that would soak up bullets coming the other way.
‘Because so far we’re winning’ Coyle told her, starting to fire again.
‘He’s cracked’ Dreamer exclaimed as bullets started to wing past them, it looked like more and more of the monsters were coming, probably attracted by the sound of gunfire, and staying here to fight them was clearly an act of insanity.
‘And you’re just realising this now?’ Allison responded sarcastically, dropping behind a low wall that looked like it would stop a bullet and she could fire over the top of, ducking behind it when she needed to reload.
Most of the super-mutants seemed to be armed with old bolt-action rifles though at least three had R91’s of their own and two more had sledgehammers these becoming the priority target if only because they came running while the ones with firearms were merely walking towards the humans shooting as they went.
It took at least three times as much lead to bring down one of the things as a human and that only got worse if they were wearing makeshift metal armour like the mutants carrying the assault-rifles seemed to be. Possibly because their rifles were designed for humans of much smaller stature none of them were aiming properly however which was a good thing and they started firing far beyond the effective range of their weapons if you weren’t bothering to use the sights. In fact as well as the apparent cannibalism and the difference in coloration Coyle was quickly reaching the conclusion that these East Coast Super-Mutants were also different to the ones back home in terms of intelligence, to be frank so far they all seemed dumb as rocks.
The original Super-Mutants created by the Master did vary a lot by intelligence but they understood this and would place the ones with more brains in positions of authority, with Soopie sergeants and officers giving orders to the less intellectually gifted grunts. They had even used basic tactics such as flanking manoeuvres and they utilised cover fire, what they did not do was walk slowly towards you firing from the hip like they had a sign around their necks saying “shoot me, I’m a great big fat, slow-moving target”. Well they didn’t unless they were toting heavy weapons anyway.
‘Okay, fuck this peashooter shit’ Coyle said as he finished the third magazine from his R91. It just took too many bullets to stop one of the damn things unless you hit something vital and Wanda was not a precision instrument.
Coyle put down the R91 and reached for his backpack. This wasn’t assault rifle time any more, this was battle-rifle time he decided taking hold of his FN-FAL.
Firing from a position behind Coyle and slightly off to his left Allison didn’t have quite as good a field of view but she had better cover and plenty to shoot at nonetheless. Although they looked terrifying and didn’t go down when you shot them like they should she had quickly learned that they were very easy to hit and blowing holes in them made it easier to put aside the fear that was screaming at her to run away.
Dreamer squatting beside her had no such luxury. Her sawn-off shotgun was useless at much more than point-blank range and besides which she doubted that buckshot would do much more than piss the things off.
‘Loading’ Allison said, ducking down once more to transfer another five rounds from her bandolier to her hunting rifle. At least she had plenty of .32 cartridges on her thanks to all the ones they had taken from raiders and others.
‘We need to run away’ Dreamer insisted. ‘We can’t stop them’ she declared.
‘Wanna bet’ Allison replied as the distinctive boom of Coyle’s FN-FAL started to sound out, echoing off the buildings.
‘Oh yeah, that’s the shit!’ Coyle enthused as he blew the head off one of the local less-than-super mutants, their thick skulls might offer some protection from 5.56mm NATO but the mixed twenty-round magazine of 7.62x51mm and it’s near identical sister-cartridge .308 Winchester now being fired at them was another matter entirely, especially at under a hundred yards.
It said something for the mutants that not even a headshot from the FN-FAL was usually an instant one-shot-kill but even so the first magazine alone from the battle-rifle took down seven of the things as they continued to arrive in dwindling numbers. Five more were severely wounded with Allison having the initiative to target the already injured with her own less powerful rifle finishing them off as best she could while Coyle reloaded.
‘You’re just lucky I’m not using my M72’ Coyle cackled as he chambered the first round from his second magazine and brought the FN-FAL up again. ‘Nice armour’ he said, smirking as he shot one of the R91 wielding mutants right in the face and then switched targets because although it didn’t go down it practically collapsed with blood pouring from the gaping wound.
‘Holy shit we’re winning’ Dreamer said in astonishment as she stuck her head above the wall for a look-see.
‘What do you mean we?’ Allison responded curtly, working the bolt of her rifle for the umpteenth time and taking aim once more.
‘Too expensive, too expensive’ Coyle told himself, reluctantly switching back to his R91 after using up half the second magazine in his FN-FAL. He’d broken the backs of the opposition now at least, with the majority lying dead and most of the remainder wounded to a greater or lesser degree. ‘I am the grim reaper, death incarnate’ he told himself, ‘and it is time to finish this’ he said, getting into a stance like a sprinter at the blocks before starting to move with his eyes ablaze behind his sunglasses.
Coyle ran down the closest enemy which managed to hit him with a round from its hunting-rifle, the round careering off his armour before Coyle turned it into a colander with half of Wanda’s magazine.
The remainder of the R91’s ammunition took down a pair of wounded mutants and Coyle dropped the rifle drawing his MP9 instead as he continued his insane charge.
‘Oh my God!’ Allison exclaimed in disbelief as she watched him suddenly change direction on the run wielding the MP9 like it was a small pistol he started taking the remaining creatures apart, shredding them with the 10mm SMG going full-auto in his right hand.
The sub-machinegun soon empty of ammunition itself Coyle let it drop too and now smoothly pulled his Desert Eagle from its holster with his left hand. It was like he was blessed or something Allison watched in awe, bullets going past him but never making contact as he took on what was now the last three remaining mutants.
Diving sideways to avoid fire from the last super-mutant with an R91 Coyle put three rounds of .44 magnum into its armoured chest to at least give it pause and then kneecapped it, sending it crashing down.
Aiming up from the ground where he had landed four more .44 magnum slugs from his Eagle took down another of the opposition and seeing that the third and last was reloading Coyle simply got up, walked over to it and shot it point-blank in the right eye with his final bullet ending the fight before he holstered the pistol again.
A few of the wounded mutants were still alive, writhing and moaning on the ground, and Coyle bent down to pick up an R91. As Allison arrived he was going to each wounded enemy in turn, putting the barrel of the assault rifle to their head and pulling the trigger to finish them off. ‘Hi Honey’ he greeted her, ‘nice shooting’ he said, pulling the trigger to put another one out of its misery.
Allison looked around. ‘They’re all dead’ she gasped.
‘No, but if you’ll give me a minute they will be’ Coyle replied, wandering over to the next mutant that was still moving.
‘What the hell were you thinking attacking them at the end like that?’ Allison demanded to know.
Coyle shrugged. ‘Seemed like the thing to do at the time’ he replied, putting down the next mutant with a single shot. ‘Good haul of rifles and ammunition from these things at least’ he said brightly. ‘Might have to break a few rifles down for replacement parts though, they don’t look well maintained’ he added regretfully.
Dreamer arrived looking around in amazement. ‘Do you know what you just did?’ she asked rhetorically.
‘Gunned down a bunch of muscle-bound morons’ Coyle replied. ‘To be fair we were in a good position to hit most of them at long range when they were at a severe disadvantage’ he said. ‘Close-in they’d be a lot more dangerous because they do take a lot of killing and you might not be able to hurt them enough before they ripped your head off’ he observed. ‘Could you start collecting guns and ammo?’ he requested.
‘I wouldn’t even know how to describe this to someone’ Dreamer stated, shaking her head.
Coyle looked thoughtful. ‘It’s about three-hundred and seventy-five millicoyles on the standard scale but it only scored that high because of the stylish way I ended the fight’ he told her.
‘Millicoyles?’ Dreamer queried in confusion.
‘I’ll explain later’ Allison told her.
After finishing off the last wounded mutant Coyle went to retrieve his own weapons, handing the R91 he had been using for the task to Dreamer. ‘Come on, times-a-wasting’ he said. ‘If we’re lucky the people we’re going to see will accept a few of these weapons as part exchange for their fee’ he said hopefully, picking up his MP9.
‘What people?’ Allison wanted to know. ‘Why did we come here?’ she asked.
‘Oh, sorry should have said’ Coyle apologised. ‘There’s a mercenary outfit based near here that I’ve got a job for’ he said. ‘I figure I could spend months trying to put together a proper map of this area so I’m going to see if they’ll do it for me, or maybe sub-contract the work onto some other schmuck if they’re too busy’ he continued. ‘Call me superstitious but once I heard what they called themselves I sort of took it as a sign’ he admitted, wondering how much these “Reilly’s Rangers” mercs might charge him for the work and hoping a few hundred caps, and now perhaps some super-mutant rifles, would be an acceptable deposit.
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Note from the Author:
I hope I've managed to make Little Lamplight make a touch more sense there than it did as presented in the game.
Goris was a talking deathclaw in FO2 who the Chosen One could take along as a companion, like the chess-playing radscorpion in Broken Hills Goris was of course the product of genetic engineering designed to increase intelligence. Rivet City wasn't the first ship used as a town in Fallout either of course.
Anacostia Station was a raider base in F03, they're still in the process of moving in at this point, more on that later. Both super-mutants and Reilly's Rangers can be found in the Seward Square area, I think it's pretty funny that the mapping job the Lone Wanderer in FO3 can get from Reilly is actually being done for Coyle!
The Sniper Rifle in FO3 fires the same ammunition as the FN-FAL and is a much more effective means to take out super-mutants than a inaccurate assault rifle. Coyle's battle-rifle is an accurate, hard-hitting semi-auto and comes with a twenty-round magazine... it's great for head-shotting large numbers of East Coast Supermutants in succession and Coyle has all the right perks to use it to full advantage!
Nology5890
Where'd That 6th Toe Come From?
It may just be me, but Nathan Fillion popped into my head when trying to picture Coyle. Bravissimo, good sir. A fairly fantastic fan fiction, and now I want to read the rest.
Nology5890 said:
It's not just you! Over on Spacebattles forums where I also post the story this exchange happened a couple of weeks back:
Ash's Boomstick > "I do have to wonder who hotpoint has in mind for the Casting of this story, me i've got my own."
Hotpoint > "Haven't really got anyone in mind. I'd be interested in hearing yours though out of pure curiosity."
Ash's Boomstick > "Coyle is a Slightly younger than now (IE Firefly era) Nathan Fillion. Allison is Laura Bertram. Dreamer isn't really formed in my mind yet."
http://forums.spacebattles.com/showthread.php?t=148416&page=13
Nology5890
Where'd That 6th Toe Come From?
Well, funny story, I had imagined him doing a near-recollection of Captain Mal Reynolds' essence if he were indeed the inspiration behind the character. I guess you inadvertently designed Fallout-Mal, here.
The story continues...
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XVI
Seward Square District – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
‘I think I’m detecting a theme here’ Coyle remarked as they found yet another unit insignia painted on a wall. The crossed swords over a lucky four-leaf clover had a certain cutesy charm Coyle thought to himself but it wasn’t his idea of a badge that would frighten your enemies unless they were extremely superstitious. ‘Why not a rabbit’s foot?’ he asked rhetorically, rolling his eyes as they arrived at what he guessed was the Ranger Compound.
Between all the unit logos and the sandbagged fire-positions which had been set up in case they needed to mount a strong defence, the mercenary group certainly weren’t going for a low-key presence in the area, although Coyle would have placed someone out front as well as having the young guy with the assault rifle on watch from the guard position above. The kid didn’t think Coyle had already spotted him because the NCR Ranger hadn’t reacted to his presence but if bullets started flying then a split-second later the young merc’s brains were going to go flying out the back of his head.
‘How ya doing up there junior?’ Coyle asked loudly.
‘Who are you talking to?’ Allison asked, puzzled.
‘That guy’ Coyle replied, turning and looking up directly at the mercenary on watch duty.
‘Oh, hello’ Allison called up to him. Dreamer was too annoyed about pushing an old shopping trolley full of rifles to bother with any niceties. She had found one inside a grocery store which had wheels that still turned but even after a splash of gun-oil to stop them squeaking so badly they were stiff as hell making it only marginally easier to push it than carry them all.
‘Um... Hi’ the mercenary responded awkwardly before he remembered what he was supposed to say to intruders. ‘This is the Reilly’s Rangers Compound’ he said, trying to sound authoritative. ‘State your business.’
‘I want to hire you’ Coyle replied.
‘Really?’ the mercenary responded. ‘Cool’ he said, grinning. ‘The boss has been in a bad mood since we heard that Talon Company won the contract to clear the muties out of the Capitol Building’ he said. ‘We really needed the work.’
Coyle chuckled. ‘You’re new right?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, I’m on probation before signing up permanent’ the mercenary replied. ‘How did you know?’ he wondered.
‘Because a more experienced guy wouldn’t tell a potential employer they’re short on work because now I know I can argue your boss down on the price’ Coyle explained.
The mercenary looked dismayed. ‘Oh shit, she’ll kill me’ he moaned.
‘No, but I might extend your probation and put you back on quartermaster-duty only for another month’ a woman’s voice interjected shortly before she appeared, clad in combat armour that sported the mercenaries insignia and carrying a holstered SMG on her hip. ‘I’m Reilly’ she introduced herself. ‘Theo up there radioed down to the bunker when you arrived’ she explained. ‘If you’re thinking of starting any trouble I’d suggest checking out the girl with the minigun that’s just joined him’ she advised.
Coyle looked back to where the rookie merc was and found there was indeed a woman toting a very large multi-barrel weapon up there now too. ‘Ladies’ he greeted them with an amused smile and a little bow.
‘So what can the Rangers do for you today?’ Reilly asked.
‘I want to hire you to make a map of the Capital Wasteland area including the location of hostiles such as super-mutants, raiders, slavers and such’ Coyle replied. ‘Also I need to know strategic locations, possible caches of weaponry and technology and ideally I want it in holotape format as well as on paper.’
Reilly raised her eyebrows. ‘Interesting job’ she said. ‘Mostly we get hired to shoot at things.’
‘I’m new in town, don’t know the lay of the land and I don’t want to have to spend the next year having to put the map together myself’ Coyle replied, ‘and I expect to remain anonymous’ he added meaningfully.
The mercenary leader threw Coyle a knowing look. ‘If you’re only just in town I’ve got to wonder why because that would mean you shouldn’t have any enemies yet right?’ she asked rhetorically.
‘Honestly you’d be surprised at how short a time it usually is between him arriving somewhere and getting into a gunfight’ Allison commented, earning a look of displeasure from Coyle and a laugh from Dreamer.
‘I have my reasons and they’re not ones that are likely to be a problem to you’ Coyle told Reilly. ‘So are you interested or should I take the work to Talon Company instead?’ he asked her. ‘I’m told they’re a bigger outfit so I bet they could complete the job faster.’
Reilly growled. ‘Talon Company would probably take your money and keep the map even if they bothered to do the work in the first place’ she said. ‘If Reilly’s Rangers agree to do a job we get it done and our word is our bond’ she stated firmly.
‘I heard that you were dependable and that’s why I came here first’ Coyle replied. ‘So are you interested?’ he asked. ‘I’d rather thrash out the details with you alone, not that I don’t trust your people but...’
‘But a good soldier accepts that there’s such a thing as need-to-know information and they don’t need to know everything right?’ Reilly interrupted him.
‘Nicely put’ Coyle agreed.
‘Okay, we’ll talk out here rather than in the bunker where the rest can overhear’ Reilly agreed. ‘You’re in luck though’ she said. ‘My engineer put together some geomapper modules that we can use to produce the holotape version of the map you wanted.’
‘Always nice to deal with professionals’ Coyle told her, taking off his sunglasses so they could look each other in the eye.
‘Brick, you can go back to the bunker I think these people are genuine’ Reilly called up to the young woman with the minigun. ‘Theo, go fetch four mugs of coffee and bring them out here for me and our new clients’ she told the probationer. ‘So should I call you “Mr Smith” or something?’ she asked Coyle.
‘Sounds like a plan’ Coyle replied. ‘You’ve got real coffee?’ he queried as the other two mercenaries disappeared from the watch position above.
‘Scored a load of it that was being shipped in along the coast from down south’ Reilly confirmed with a nod. ‘I know a coastal trader that was having trouble with some smugglers trying to interfere with his business and solved the problem for him while seizing their goods as a bonus’ she said.
‘Killed them?’ Coyle reasoned.
‘More like scared them enough that they relocated from near here to over Point Lookout way I heard’ Reilly replied. ‘We can sit down on the benches over there if you want to make yourselves more comfortable’ she suggested. ‘What’s with all the rifles?’ she queried, indicating the trolley full of them.
‘Spoils of war’ Coyle replied, ‘ran into some super-mutant trouble on the way here’ he explained. ‘They started it’ he added with a shrug.
The mercenary blinked and took another look at the number of rifles. ‘How many people did you lose?’ she asked.
‘None’ Coyle replied. ‘In their case “super” seemed to be something of a misnomer’ he observed. ‘Only a few of them had assault rifles though, and none of them could shoot for shit so it wasn’t as one sided as you’d think looking at the raw numbers’ he noted. ‘Took out as many as possible from long-range with my FN-FAL there’ he said, indicating the larger of the two rifles he was carrying, Reilly recognising it from an old copy of Guns and Ammo. ‘You know what they say, 5.56mm is just 7.62x51 set on stun’ he joked.
‘You’re lucky that the ones with the better hardware are mostly fighting the Brotherhood over in The Mall’ Reilly told him after laughing politely. ‘They’ve got big tough mothers with miniguns and rocket-launchers and even bigger ones toting tri-beam laser rifles that’ll fuck you up big-time’ she warned. ‘We get a bounty for every mutie we take down, just need to provide evidence like a finger or something.’
‘Feel free to claim it on the ones we took out, consider it part of the down payment on your fee for the mapping job if your principles object at all’ Coyle told Reilly. ‘I’ll tell you where they are so you can get there before rats or something start chewing on them.’
Reilly considered that. ‘Sounds reasonable’ she said, taking a seat on one of the pre-war metal benches that faced the old statue outside the Ranger HQ, Coyle taking off his backpack, putting down his rifles and joining her. ‘So I’m thinking... five thousand caps for the work, plus the bounty’ she said.
‘Not a chance’ Coyle responded flatly, starting to get back up.
‘Hey, come back we’re negotiating here’ Riley told him hurriedly. ‘What do you think is reasonable considering we could get shot to hell wandering around the wasteland making your damn map?’
‘Two-thousand five hundred’ Coyle replied.
‘I take it back’ Riley said. ‘Get lost’ she told him, crossing her arms.
Coyle frowned. ‘I can go to three thousand, plus the bounty...’ he said then paused. ‘And I’ll throw in those rifles you can use for spare parts or sell on’ he offered.
‘Most of them look like junk’ Reilly said dismissively.
‘Yeah but there’s a more than a few of them and I bet you’ve got a gunsmith that can fix them up’ Coyle suggested. ‘You’ll be able to sell on the map to others once it’s completed, I just want the first finished copy, so really I’m just helping you off-set your initial investment in time and energy.’
The mercenary took another look at the rifles, Donovan probably could use parts from some of them to bring the others up to a state where they would sell for a reasonable price, she thought, reappraising their worth. ‘Half the caps now, half on completion’ she said.
‘I’ll give you five-hundred in cash now as a deposit, plus the rifles and the location of the mutants so you can claim the bounty on them’ Coyle countered. ‘I’ll be back in a while with another instalment or two once I’ve raised some ready cash and I’ll pay the final balance on completion.’
‘Six hundred now’ Reilly replied, that was enough to cover her wages bill for a couple of missions and would keep Brick, Donovan and Butcher off her back for now. Ever since they had lost Dallas and Kira the others had been grumbling a little about the future of the outfit, with Theo not much of a replacement for the two experienced soldiers, but as long as she could hold up caps in front of them the other mercenaries were loyal enough to stick it out.
Coyle grimaced, that was pushing his limit though not as much as his expression would indicate of course. ‘Deal’ he said reluctantly, holding out his hand to shake. ‘It had better be damn good coffee’ he told the red-haired mercenary.
‘Well it’s better than no coffee at all’ Reilly replied, not exactly a ringing endorsement. ‘So can I ask who you’re working for yourself?’ she asked him. ‘You look and act military so I figure you’re not just a passing wastelander with an interest in geography’ she said. His accent reminded her of the Brotherhood of Steel, particularly the older members, and her guess would be he was something to do with the Outcasts because they were always looking around for things and the regular Brotherhood wouldn’t have been so cloak-and-dagger.
‘How about you just think of me as a wandering troubadour scouting for a new audience’ Coyle replied. ‘They’re my back-up singers’ he added, nodding towards Allison and Dreamer.
‘I’m fine with that as long as your money is good’ Reilly responded as Theo emerged from down in the bunker with a tray of steaming coffee mugs in his hands. ‘Tell the others we’ve just been hired to do some work for “Mr Smith” here and I’m just negotiating the details’ the mercenary leader told him.
‘That’s great’ Theo said brightly as Reilly and Coyle took one of the mugs each.
‘You did use the purified water right?’ Reilly checked.
‘Yeah’ Theo confirmed as he went to the next bench where Allison and Dreamer were now sat down themselves. ‘It’s hot’ he warned them as they took their own mugs.
‘Not bad’ Coyle told Reilly as he tasted the coffee.
‘Fresh milk in it too’ Reilly told him. ‘Theo might need a little more training to be a first-class soldier but he’s already a good quartermaster’ she praised the rookie who smiled as he headed back to the bunker door with his now empty tray.
‘You might want to keep a closer eye on him’ Coyle advised seriously. ‘He’s a little green even for standing watch I’d say.’
‘He’ll be fine once he’s got a little mutie blood on his boots and thanks to him we’ve gotten our hands on a few video cameras that we’ll start setting up so we can watch out for approaching trouble from down in the bunker’ Reilly replied. ‘Got to take precautions now Talon Company is going to start poking its nose into the area’ she said.
‘I’m getting the idea that your grudge against them goes further than professional rivalry’ Coyle observed.
‘They’re scum who don’t care who they kill or who they work for’ Reilly told him. ‘I was raised to be choosy about that but I guess their boss Jabsco wasn’t brought up right’ she said. ‘They’re not much better than raiders in my book and from what I hear the reason why they can always find plenty of new recruits is because half of them are raiders.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind if I run into any of them’ Coyle replied. ‘I’ll finish my coffee and then count out the six-hundred caps for you’ he said. ‘We need to be on our way soon’ he said. ‘I might just drop off the next instalment of caps at a pick-up point rather than come all the way back here if you’ve got a suggestion where’ he suggested. ‘If I come here too often my anonymity might suffer’ he reasoned. It was one thing being spotted by super-mutants but if these Talon Company mercenaries moving into the Seward Square district spotted him visiting the Rangers it might become a issue, even if it was only them thinking he was one of Reilly’s people.
Reilly sipped at her coffee. ‘I can think of a safe place you should be able to find’ she said. ‘We can exchange notes that way too, maybe I’ll put updates on the mapping there for you so you can be assured we’re really doing the work.’
‘Sounds like a plan’ Coyle agreed, looked like the day was going pretty well so far he thought, even if Allison was never likely to let him forget dismissing all her warnings about the local super-mutants being man-eaters.
Half an hour later, hiking back towards the subway entrance down to Anacostia Station, Coyle briefly considered scouting the local area himself in more depth but that was what he was paying Reilly to do and if she couldn’t even do that properly for her own district he’d be demanding his money back.
Passing by all the super-mutant corpses they had left behind earlier, Reilly’s people would be along soon to collect whatever body parts it was they needed as evidence for the bounty on the things, Coyle idly wondered if he might be wrong about anything else other than the mutants but he quickly dismissed the idea.
‘People could track you just from all the bodies you leave behind’ Dreamer said as she sidestepped to avoid a pool of blood that had gathered in a pothole.
‘That’s true, especially if they checked the rifling pattern on the bullets I shoot into things’ Coyle agreed. ‘If someone wanted to they could trace my route all the way back to Vault City where I started off’ he said.
‘Vault City?’ Allison asked.
‘It was originally Vault 8, opened up not too long after the Great War and became a small city-state in western Nevada’ Coyle replied. ‘It joined the NCR a few years back, might end up the capital of a new NCR state eventually if the rest of the region ever gets over Vault City treating them like something they stepped in for about a century and a half’ he continued. ‘From Vault City I travelled north up into Idaho and then east through Wyoming’ he recalled. ‘The Legion are in control of most of Utah and southern Colorado and they’ve got some influence further north but they haven’t pushed as far as Wyoming yet fortunately’ he said. ‘We’ll have to deal with the assholes eventually even if the politicians don’t want to think about it’ he said.
The fact was the NCR could crush the Legion like a bug if it had the will to do so, Coyle knew full well. Caesar’s troops were tough and numerous but they weren’t that well equipped and even with only a mere five-percent of the population under arms the New California Republic had pounded the Brotherhood into the ground, driven the Khans east, expanded the borders in all directions and still had enough troops in the Mojave to face off against the Legion. Raise that to ten percent of the population or more, maybe even introduce mass conscription, and then put the economy on a proper war-footing and the NCR Army would be able to smash half way to Albuquerque before the Legion realised that bringing a knife to a gunfight wasn’t good policy. The problem of course was that the politicians didn’t have the will and too many of them were in the back-pockets of lobbyists working for the Brahmin Barons or the Caravan Companies who only wanted low taxes.
‘We’re not really going to the Mall are we?’ Allison asked, breaking Coyle’s chain of thought just as they reached the subway entrance.
‘Yes but it’s nearly two miles long and according to Sydney all the trenches and bunkers the Brotherhood dug for themselves between the Washington Monument and the Capitol Building have the super-mutants stopped well short of where we’re going so far’ Coyle replied. ‘Judging from the fact the Steel Plague is having to give up on manning other positions in the city in order to try and keep a grip on the Mall probably means that they won’t be able to hold the line much longer though’ he supposed. ‘Assuming that the muties have the numbers to keep up the pressure I mean.’
‘But why are we going there?’ Allison wanted to know.
‘Because I want to see the fighting for myself and I also want to visit a few people that have been in town longer than anyone else and can hopefully answer a few questions regarding the Brotherhood, the Super-Mutants and hopefully the Enclave.’
‘What people?’ Dreamer queried.
‘Just don’t either of you call them zombies because it’s downright rude’ Coyle replied.
‘Ghoul’s? We’re going to see ghouls?’ Allison exclaimed without much enthusiasm at the idea.
‘I always thought if the country had made it through the Great War just a little better we’d call them “Irradiated Americans” but maybe that’s just the politically-correct left-coast liberal in me’ Coyle said thoughtfully, heading down the steps. ‘Probably be best to dig out my infra-red sight if we’re going through the tunnels’ he reasoned. ‘It should mount on Wanda just as well as my FN-FAL and being able to see in the dark could be useful’ he said, pushing open the gates at the bottom.
Anacostia Station was still deserted but as they made their way down into the subway tunnels Coyle started to hear voices and signalled for his companions to keep quiet as he scouted ahead. Using the infra-red night-sight fitted to his customised R91 assault-rifle Coyle got a good look at who was making the noise long before they could have seen him and it appeared to be a bunch of raiders manhandling some furniture and construction materials through the tunnel from the next station along to Anacostia.
Must be the gang Dreamer recognised the symbols on the walls from, Coyle thought to himself, moving further into the shadows so they could get even closer without spotting him. Once he started firing the muzzle-flash would give his position away instantly but if he did this right they’d all be dead before they got a chance to fire back especially given their weapons were either slung or holstered.
It was all a little too much like murder Coyle pondered, but then again they were likely all murderers themselves and it wasn’t like cold-blooded killing without giving the opposition a chance was an unknown experience for a former member of 1st Recon.
Allison and Dreamer heard several bursts of automatic gunfire thunder down the tunnel, a few screams then a couple of single reports after which the screaming stopped. ‘To be fair he doesn’t let them suffer’ Dreamer remarked, correctly surmising what had just happened. It didn’t occur to either that the Californian might be hurt himself because all the shooting had audibly been from an R91, he would have had the element of surprise... and it was Coyle.
‘All clear’ Coyle’s voice echoed down the tunnel. ‘I think I’ve got something that you might find useful Dreamer’ he added.
‘Could be boots, I got my boots off a raider he killed’ Allison told Dreamer as they set off down the tunnel after him. ‘My old ones were worn out’ she explained.
‘I’d rather not wear old raider clothes’ Dreamer replied. ‘Not again.’
As it turned out when they arrived Coyle was gathering the raiders weapons and more valuable possessions, he didn’t feel like stripping them for their armour. ‘For you’ he said, passing Dreamer a Combat Shotgun. ‘Until I can teach you to shoot properly now you can see clearly this is probably your ideal weapon’ he told her. ‘Good spread of shot and if you miss just keep pulling the trigger until you don’t’ he advised as she took it from him. ‘The ammunition drum is full and the previous owner had a few more twelve-gauge shells in his pockets you’ll need because it uses them up fast.’
‘Don’t I get anything?’ Allison wanted to know.
‘Two of them had .32 pistols so you can have their ammo’ Coyle offered. ‘One more had an R91 so I’m taking that to sell with the pistols but of the remaining two one only had a crappy Chinese pistol that’s worse than your own automatic and the last just had a switchblade and a couple grenades on him.’
‘Could I have a grenade?’ Allison asked hopefully.
‘Not until I’ve seen you pitch and made sure you don’t throw like a girl no’ Coyle responded.
‘You didn’t give them a chance to surrender’ Dreamer realised. ‘When you found me and my old gang at the Super-Duper Mart you gave us the chance to surrender’ she pointed out.
‘Which earned me a bunch of shotgun pellets in my hand and you’ Coyle responded flatly. ‘I’m not making that mistake again’ he said. ‘One of these assholes might have had an even sorrier tale of woe to tell than you did and pretty soon I’d have half the Capital Wasteland trailing on behind me if I adopted every stray I came across.’
‘That’s not very nice’ Allison chided him. ‘I thought you liked Dreamer now.’
‘That’s the problem, I think I’m going soft’ Coyle replied sadly, bending down to take the scarf off a raider so he could use it to wipe some blood off one of the .32 pistols.
Presumably more raiders would eventually be moving into the metro lines but they found Museum Station under the Mall just as deserted as Anacostia had been. Dreamer thought it probable that the raider gang’s boss had assigned the job of getting both stations ready for occupation to the small group Coyle had dealt with in the tunnel, and the majority of the gang would relocate later once they were certain the Brotherhood wasn’t going to make a reappearance, but at least for now Coyle and the others could finish getting to where they were going unmolested. An obvious sign that the Brotherhood had been using the tunnels was to be seen in their insignia being painted on an abandoned train inside the tunnel, along with an arrow pointing towards one of their outposts. If he had been carrying any spray-paint Coyle would have been tempted to write “NCR Forever” over the BoS symbol but he settled for depreciating the quality of the artwork instead.
Taking the station exit that led to the Museum of History they emerged to the sound of gunfire which was distant, if not too distant, and in considerable amount. Making his way slowly and carefully up one of the bank of inert escalators until he could look around properly Coyle saw that he wasn’t too far from the Washington Monument and the Mall itself looked like a warzone.
Off to the west towards the Capitol Building lasers and tracer fire along with the occasional explosion indicated where the front line was between the Brotherhood and the Super-Mutants. It looked like the Steel Plague had done a good job of digging in and if they were being pushed back due to heavy losses Coyle could only imagine how many mutants must have died in order to accomplish that.
On the plus side there weren’t any super-mutants or knights near the museum so remaining cautious Coyle continued up the escalators until he spotted a ghoul appearing to be guarding the entrance to the museum carrying a laser rifle and with what remained of her hair dyed bright red. ‘Just wait here while I go talk to someone’ he instructed Allison and Dreamer. ‘I shouldn’t be long’ he told them.
‘What do you want smoothskin?’ the ghoul asked, her voice coarse like most ghouls but still recognisably feminine.
‘Just taking a look around, visiting the nation’s majestic capital and seeing the sights’ Coyle replied brightly. ‘Doing the tourist thing you understand.’
‘You’re kidding?’ the ghoul responded.
‘No, I travelled all the way from the west coast to get here and I couldn’t possibly leave without poking around a couple of museums, seeing the Washington Monument and maybe buying a few postcards to take home for the folks’ Coyle told her. ‘Are you one of the tour guides?’ he asked. ‘No I guess what with the gun you’re a Security Guard looking after the exhibits and making sure pickpockets don’t prey on us tourists’ he reasoned.
The ghoul looked him in the eye. ‘Are you yanking my chain?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, but tell the truth it was kinda funny wasn’t it?’ Coyle replied, tongue firmly-in-cheek.
The ghoul laughed. ‘Yeah, good one smoothskin, I might try that one myself and pretend I think the next guy that comes along is a tourist myself just to see their reaction’ she said.
‘Name’s Coyle, a friend of mine named Sydney told me that there’s a ghoul town based inside the museum where a human that’s not a bigot can trade and maybe get a beer’ he said.
‘If you’ll talk to us like we’re people and lay off calling us zombies we’ve got no problem with your kind’ the ghoul replied. ‘I’m Willow’ she introduced herself. ‘I keep a lookout for trouble out here because I’m the best shot with the sharpest eyes’ she said. ‘If Sydney steered you our way I guess you’re okay, she’s one of the good ones.’
‘Nice to meet you Willow’ Coyle responded, offering his hand to shake which the ghoul took. When he moved from 1st Recon to the Rangers Coyle’s first instructor had been a ghoul who had been recruited into the organisation a hundred years before by Seth himself and after a while you started looking past the skin, or lack thereof, to the person inside. Of course as it happened Coyle had in fact hated his first instructor but he was proud to say it wasn’t anti-ghoul bias it was just that that he thought the guy was an asshole and the feeling was apparently mutual. ‘I’ll just collect my companions’ he said, ‘thought I should recon before I brought them up’ he continued, turning away from Willow before suddenly turning back. ‘Out of interest what’s your opinion on the Brotherhood of Steel?’ he queried.
‘They’re assholes’ Willow replied with considerable feeling.
‘Finally someone else in this town that realises that’ Coyle said happily. ‘If I wasn’t enjoying the life of a care-free bachelor so much I’d ask you to marry me’ he told her.
‘Sorry but I prefer the strong silent type’ Willow told him, trying not to drift back into her usual daydream about buying out Charon’s contract and then getting her money’s worth in the sack from the Underworld’s hottest male ghoul.
‘So how do you feel about Galaxy News Radio?’ Coyle asked her, putting down his backpack and picking up his FN-FAL.
‘Too much Brotherhood propaganda’ Willow replied. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked as Coyle shouldered his rifle and took aim at the top of the monument.
‘Expressing listener dissatisfaction with the GNR programming choices’ Coyle replied, taking a breath and holding it to steady his aim before squeezing the trigger. ‘If anyone ever asks you saw a super-mutant shoot the aerial off the top of that thing okay?’ he told Willow, grinning as he lowered his rifle again after firing a single shot and mightily pleased with himself for having struck a blow for California, freedom, democracy and jerkasses everywhere.
‘Hey tourist, how you choose to enjoy your vacation is entirely up to you’ Willow replied, assuming that he found Three-Dog and the limited record collection he repeated endlessly even more annoying than most people did.
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Note from the Author:
Theo was hired by Reilly's Rangers as quartermaster and to help bring their numbers back up after losing two of their more experienced members not too long before the events of FO3. As the rookie I could well imagine him being stuck with standing watch. According to Reilly's terminal in the game they were hired by an anonymous "Mr Smith" to map the Capital Wasteland which was a job they fitted around collecting bounties on super-mutants.
Talon Company is another mercenary outfit operating in the area and they are not on good terms with Reilly's Rangers (to the extend that they shoot at each other).
I'm going with the idea that it was the Brotherhood that turned the power back on in the Metro System given that we do see their insignia down there and I can't imagine Raiders being able to do that themselves. Manpower shortages meant that the BoS had to stop patrolling the tunnels which is when the raiders moved in and began fortifying the stations.
The ghoul settlement of Underworld lies inside the Museum of American History on the Mall with Willow standing guard outside the building, she doesn't like the Brotherhood because then tend to shoot at her kind . It's not too far from the Washington Monument (not the trickiest shot Coyle has ever made to take out the GNR aerial) and not too far from the network of trenches and bunkers that run from there up to the Capitol Building. The BoS is slowly losing ground at this point, by FO3 a few weeks later the Super-Mutants are fairly dominant in the area (it's a war of attrition and the Brotherhood can't replace their losses making it a similar situation for them as the NCR/BoS war raging back at the West Coast).
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NEW CALIFORNIA DREAMING - PART XVI
Seward Square District – Columbia Commonwealth – June 2277
‘I think I’m detecting a theme here’ Coyle remarked as they found yet another unit insignia painted on a wall. The crossed swords over a lucky four-leaf clover had a certain cutesy charm Coyle thought to himself but it wasn’t his idea of a badge that would frighten your enemies unless they were extremely superstitious. ‘Why not a rabbit’s foot?’ he asked rhetorically, rolling his eyes as they arrived at what he guessed was the Ranger Compound.
Between all the unit logos and the sandbagged fire-positions which had been set up in case they needed to mount a strong defence, the mercenary group certainly weren’t going for a low-key presence in the area, although Coyle would have placed someone out front as well as having the young guy with the assault rifle on watch from the guard position above. The kid didn’t think Coyle had already spotted him because the NCR Ranger hadn’t reacted to his presence but if bullets started flying then a split-second later the young merc’s brains were going to go flying out the back of his head.
‘How ya doing up there junior?’ Coyle asked loudly.
‘Who are you talking to?’ Allison asked, puzzled.
‘That guy’ Coyle replied, turning and looking up directly at the mercenary on watch duty.
‘Oh, hello’ Allison called up to him. Dreamer was too annoyed about pushing an old shopping trolley full of rifles to bother with any niceties. She had found one inside a grocery store which had wheels that still turned but even after a splash of gun-oil to stop them squeaking so badly they were stiff as hell making it only marginally easier to push it than carry them all.
‘Um... Hi’ the mercenary responded awkwardly before he remembered what he was supposed to say to intruders. ‘This is the Reilly’s Rangers Compound’ he said, trying to sound authoritative. ‘State your business.’
‘I want to hire you’ Coyle replied.
‘Really?’ the mercenary responded. ‘Cool’ he said, grinning. ‘The boss has been in a bad mood since we heard that Talon Company won the contract to clear the muties out of the Capitol Building’ he said. ‘We really needed the work.’
Coyle chuckled. ‘You’re new right?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, I’m on probation before signing up permanent’ the mercenary replied. ‘How did you know?’ he wondered.
‘Because a more experienced guy wouldn’t tell a potential employer they’re short on work because now I know I can argue your boss down on the price’ Coyle explained.
The mercenary looked dismayed. ‘Oh shit, she’ll kill me’ he moaned.
‘No, but I might extend your probation and put you back on quartermaster-duty only for another month’ a woman’s voice interjected shortly before she appeared, clad in combat armour that sported the mercenaries insignia and carrying a holstered SMG on her hip. ‘I’m Reilly’ she introduced herself. ‘Theo up there radioed down to the bunker when you arrived’ she explained. ‘If you’re thinking of starting any trouble I’d suggest checking out the girl with the minigun that’s just joined him’ she advised.
Coyle looked back to where the rookie merc was and found there was indeed a woman toting a very large multi-barrel weapon up there now too. ‘Ladies’ he greeted them with an amused smile and a little bow.
‘So what can the Rangers do for you today?’ Reilly asked.
‘I want to hire you to make a map of the Capital Wasteland area including the location of hostiles such as super-mutants, raiders, slavers and such’ Coyle replied. ‘Also I need to know strategic locations, possible caches of weaponry and technology and ideally I want it in holotape format as well as on paper.’
Reilly raised her eyebrows. ‘Interesting job’ she said. ‘Mostly we get hired to shoot at things.’
‘I’m new in town, don’t know the lay of the land and I don’t want to have to spend the next year having to put the map together myself’ Coyle replied, ‘and I expect to remain anonymous’ he added meaningfully.
The mercenary leader threw Coyle a knowing look. ‘If you’re only just in town I’ve got to wonder why because that would mean you shouldn’t have any enemies yet right?’ she asked rhetorically.
‘Honestly you’d be surprised at how short a time it usually is between him arriving somewhere and getting into a gunfight’ Allison commented, earning a look of displeasure from Coyle and a laugh from Dreamer.
‘I have my reasons and they’re not ones that are likely to be a problem to you’ Coyle told Reilly. ‘So are you interested or should I take the work to Talon Company instead?’ he asked her. ‘I’m told they’re a bigger outfit so I bet they could complete the job faster.’
Reilly growled. ‘Talon Company would probably take your money and keep the map even if they bothered to do the work in the first place’ she said. ‘If Reilly’s Rangers agree to do a job we get it done and our word is our bond’ she stated firmly.
‘I heard that you were dependable and that’s why I came here first’ Coyle replied. ‘So are you interested?’ he asked. ‘I’d rather thrash out the details with you alone, not that I don’t trust your people but...’
‘But a good soldier accepts that there’s such a thing as need-to-know information and they don’t need to know everything right?’ Reilly interrupted him.
‘Nicely put’ Coyle agreed.
‘Okay, we’ll talk out here rather than in the bunker where the rest can overhear’ Reilly agreed. ‘You’re in luck though’ she said. ‘My engineer put together some geomapper modules that we can use to produce the holotape version of the map you wanted.’
‘Always nice to deal with professionals’ Coyle told her, taking off his sunglasses so they could look each other in the eye.
‘Brick, you can go back to the bunker I think these people are genuine’ Reilly called up to the young woman with the minigun. ‘Theo, go fetch four mugs of coffee and bring them out here for me and our new clients’ she told the probationer. ‘So should I call you “Mr Smith” or something?’ she asked Coyle.
‘Sounds like a plan’ Coyle replied. ‘You’ve got real coffee?’ he queried as the other two mercenaries disappeared from the watch position above.
‘Scored a load of it that was being shipped in along the coast from down south’ Reilly confirmed with a nod. ‘I know a coastal trader that was having trouble with some smugglers trying to interfere with his business and solved the problem for him while seizing their goods as a bonus’ she said.
‘Killed them?’ Coyle reasoned.
‘More like scared them enough that they relocated from near here to over Point Lookout way I heard’ Reilly replied. ‘We can sit down on the benches over there if you want to make yourselves more comfortable’ she suggested. ‘What’s with all the rifles?’ she queried, indicating the trolley full of them.
‘Spoils of war’ Coyle replied, ‘ran into some super-mutant trouble on the way here’ he explained. ‘They started it’ he added with a shrug.
The mercenary blinked and took another look at the number of rifles. ‘How many people did you lose?’ she asked.
‘None’ Coyle replied. ‘In their case “super” seemed to be something of a misnomer’ he observed. ‘Only a few of them had assault rifles though, and none of them could shoot for shit so it wasn’t as one sided as you’d think looking at the raw numbers’ he noted. ‘Took out as many as possible from long-range with my FN-FAL there’ he said, indicating the larger of the two rifles he was carrying, Reilly recognising it from an old copy of Guns and Ammo. ‘You know what they say, 5.56mm is just 7.62x51 set on stun’ he joked.
‘You’re lucky that the ones with the better hardware are mostly fighting the Brotherhood over in The Mall’ Reilly told him after laughing politely. ‘They’ve got big tough mothers with miniguns and rocket-launchers and even bigger ones toting tri-beam laser rifles that’ll fuck you up big-time’ she warned. ‘We get a bounty for every mutie we take down, just need to provide evidence like a finger or something.’
‘Feel free to claim it on the ones we took out, consider it part of the down payment on your fee for the mapping job if your principles object at all’ Coyle told Reilly. ‘I’ll tell you where they are so you can get there before rats or something start chewing on them.’
Reilly considered that. ‘Sounds reasonable’ she said, taking a seat on one of the pre-war metal benches that faced the old statue outside the Ranger HQ, Coyle taking off his backpack, putting down his rifles and joining her. ‘So I’m thinking... five thousand caps for the work, plus the bounty’ she said.
‘Not a chance’ Coyle responded flatly, starting to get back up.
‘Hey, come back we’re negotiating here’ Riley told him hurriedly. ‘What do you think is reasonable considering we could get shot to hell wandering around the wasteland making your damn map?’
‘Two-thousand five hundred’ Coyle replied.
‘I take it back’ Riley said. ‘Get lost’ she told him, crossing her arms.
Coyle frowned. ‘I can go to three thousand, plus the bounty...’ he said then paused. ‘And I’ll throw in those rifles you can use for spare parts or sell on’ he offered.
‘Most of them look like junk’ Reilly said dismissively.
‘Yeah but there’s a more than a few of them and I bet you’ve got a gunsmith that can fix them up’ Coyle suggested. ‘You’ll be able to sell on the map to others once it’s completed, I just want the first finished copy, so really I’m just helping you off-set your initial investment in time and energy.’
The mercenary took another look at the rifles, Donovan probably could use parts from some of them to bring the others up to a state where they would sell for a reasonable price, she thought, reappraising their worth. ‘Half the caps now, half on completion’ she said.
‘I’ll give you five-hundred in cash now as a deposit, plus the rifles and the location of the mutants so you can claim the bounty on them’ Coyle countered. ‘I’ll be back in a while with another instalment or two once I’ve raised some ready cash and I’ll pay the final balance on completion.’
‘Six hundred now’ Reilly replied, that was enough to cover her wages bill for a couple of missions and would keep Brick, Donovan and Butcher off her back for now. Ever since they had lost Dallas and Kira the others had been grumbling a little about the future of the outfit, with Theo not much of a replacement for the two experienced soldiers, but as long as she could hold up caps in front of them the other mercenaries were loyal enough to stick it out.
Coyle grimaced, that was pushing his limit though not as much as his expression would indicate of course. ‘Deal’ he said reluctantly, holding out his hand to shake. ‘It had better be damn good coffee’ he told the red-haired mercenary.
‘Well it’s better than no coffee at all’ Reilly replied, not exactly a ringing endorsement. ‘So can I ask who you’re working for yourself?’ she asked him. ‘You look and act military so I figure you’re not just a passing wastelander with an interest in geography’ she said. His accent reminded her of the Brotherhood of Steel, particularly the older members, and her guess would be he was something to do with the Outcasts because they were always looking around for things and the regular Brotherhood wouldn’t have been so cloak-and-dagger.
‘How about you just think of me as a wandering troubadour scouting for a new audience’ Coyle replied. ‘They’re my back-up singers’ he added, nodding towards Allison and Dreamer.
‘I’m fine with that as long as your money is good’ Reilly responded as Theo emerged from down in the bunker with a tray of steaming coffee mugs in his hands. ‘Tell the others we’ve just been hired to do some work for “Mr Smith” here and I’m just negotiating the details’ the mercenary leader told him.
‘That’s great’ Theo said brightly as Reilly and Coyle took one of the mugs each.
‘You did use the purified water right?’ Reilly checked.
‘Yeah’ Theo confirmed as he went to the next bench where Allison and Dreamer were now sat down themselves. ‘It’s hot’ he warned them as they took their own mugs.
‘Not bad’ Coyle told Reilly as he tasted the coffee.
‘Fresh milk in it too’ Reilly told him. ‘Theo might need a little more training to be a first-class soldier but he’s already a good quartermaster’ she praised the rookie who smiled as he headed back to the bunker door with his now empty tray.
‘You might want to keep a closer eye on him’ Coyle advised seriously. ‘He’s a little green even for standing watch I’d say.’
‘He’ll be fine once he’s got a little mutie blood on his boots and thanks to him we’ve gotten our hands on a few video cameras that we’ll start setting up so we can watch out for approaching trouble from down in the bunker’ Reilly replied. ‘Got to take precautions now Talon Company is going to start poking its nose into the area’ she said.
‘I’m getting the idea that your grudge against them goes further than professional rivalry’ Coyle observed.
‘They’re scum who don’t care who they kill or who they work for’ Reilly told him. ‘I was raised to be choosy about that but I guess their boss Jabsco wasn’t brought up right’ she said. ‘They’re not much better than raiders in my book and from what I hear the reason why they can always find plenty of new recruits is because half of them are raiders.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind if I run into any of them’ Coyle replied. ‘I’ll finish my coffee and then count out the six-hundred caps for you’ he said. ‘We need to be on our way soon’ he said. ‘I might just drop off the next instalment of caps at a pick-up point rather than come all the way back here if you’ve got a suggestion where’ he suggested. ‘If I come here too often my anonymity might suffer’ he reasoned. It was one thing being spotted by super-mutants but if these Talon Company mercenaries moving into the Seward Square district spotted him visiting the Rangers it might become a issue, even if it was only them thinking he was one of Reilly’s people.
Reilly sipped at her coffee. ‘I can think of a safe place you should be able to find’ she said. ‘We can exchange notes that way too, maybe I’ll put updates on the mapping there for you so you can be assured we’re really doing the work.’
‘Sounds like a plan’ Coyle agreed, looked like the day was going pretty well so far he thought, even if Allison was never likely to let him forget dismissing all her warnings about the local super-mutants being man-eaters.
Half an hour later, hiking back towards the subway entrance down to Anacostia Station, Coyle briefly considered scouting the local area himself in more depth but that was what he was paying Reilly to do and if she couldn’t even do that properly for her own district he’d be demanding his money back.
Passing by all the super-mutant corpses they had left behind earlier, Reilly’s people would be along soon to collect whatever body parts it was they needed as evidence for the bounty on the things, Coyle idly wondered if he might be wrong about anything else other than the mutants but he quickly dismissed the idea.
‘People could track you just from all the bodies you leave behind’ Dreamer said as she sidestepped to avoid a pool of blood that had gathered in a pothole.
‘That’s true, especially if they checked the rifling pattern on the bullets I shoot into things’ Coyle agreed. ‘If someone wanted to they could trace my route all the way back to Vault City where I started off’ he said.
‘Vault City?’ Allison asked.
‘It was originally Vault 8, opened up not too long after the Great War and became a small city-state in western Nevada’ Coyle replied. ‘It joined the NCR a few years back, might end up the capital of a new NCR state eventually if the rest of the region ever gets over Vault City treating them like something they stepped in for about a century and a half’ he continued. ‘From Vault City I travelled north up into Idaho and then east through Wyoming’ he recalled. ‘The Legion are in control of most of Utah and southern Colorado and they’ve got some influence further north but they haven’t pushed as far as Wyoming yet fortunately’ he said. ‘We’ll have to deal with the assholes eventually even if the politicians don’t want to think about it’ he said.
The fact was the NCR could crush the Legion like a bug if it had the will to do so, Coyle knew full well. Caesar’s troops were tough and numerous but they weren’t that well equipped and even with only a mere five-percent of the population under arms the New California Republic had pounded the Brotherhood into the ground, driven the Khans east, expanded the borders in all directions and still had enough troops in the Mojave to face off against the Legion. Raise that to ten percent of the population or more, maybe even introduce mass conscription, and then put the economy on a proper war-footing and the NCR Army would be able to smash half way to Albuquerque before the Legion realised that bringing a knife to a gunfight wasn’t good policy. The problem of course was that the politicians didn’t have the will and too many of them were in the back-pockets of lobbyists working for the Brahmin Barons or the Caravan Companies who only wanted low taxes.
‘We’re not really going to the Mall are we?’ Allison asked, breaking Coyle’s chain of thought just as they reached the subway entrance.
‘Yes but it’s nearly two miles long and according to Sydney all the trenches and bunkers the Brotherhood dug for themselves between the Washington Monument and the Capitol Building have the super-mutants stopped well short of where we’re going so far’ Coyle replied. ‘Judging from the fact the Steel Plague is having to give up on manning other positions in the city in order to try and keep a grip on the Mall probably means that they won’t be able to hold the line much longer though’ he supposed. ‘Assuming that the muties have the numbers to keep up the pressure I mean.’
‘But why are we going there?’ Allison wanted to know.
‘Because I want to see the fighting for myself and I also want to visit a few people that have been in town longer than anyone else and can hopefully answer a few questions regarding the Brotherhood, the Super-Mutants and hopefully the Enclave.’
‘What people?’ Dreamer queried.
‘Just don’t either of you call them zombies because it’s downright rude’ Coyle replied.
‘Ghoul’s? We’re going to see ghouls?’ Allison exclaimed without much enthusiasm at the idea.
‘I always thought if the country had made it through the Great War just a little better we’d call them “Irradiated Americans” but maybe that’s just the politically-correct left-coast liberal in me’ Coyle said thoughtfully, heading down the steps. ‘Probably be best to dig out my infra-red sight if we’re going through the tunnels’ he reasoned. ‘It should mount on Wanda just as well as my FN-FAL and being able to see in the dark could be useful’ he said, pushing open the gates at the bottom.
Anacostia Station was still deserted but as they made their way down into the subway tunnels Coyle started to hear voices and signalled for his companions to keep quiet as he scouted ahead. Using the infra-red night-sight fitted to his customised R91 assault-rifle Coyle got a good look at who was making the noise long before they could have seen him and it appeared to be a bunch of raiders manhandling some furniture and construction materials through the tunnel from the next station along to Anacostia.
Must be the gang Dreamer recognised the symbols on the walls from, Coyle thought to himself, moving further into the shadows so they could get even closer without spotting him. Once he started firing the muzzle-flash would give his position away instantly but if he did this right they’d all be dead before they got a chance to fire back especially given their weapons were either slung or holstered.
It was all a little too much like murder Coyle pondered, but then again they were likely all murderers themselves and it wasn’t like cold-blooded killing without giving the opposition a chance was an unknown experience for a former member of 1st Recon.
Allison and Dreamer heard several bursts of automatic gunfire thunder down the tunnel, a few screams then a couple of single reports after which the screaming stopped. ‘To be fair he doesn’t let them suffer’ Dreamer remarked, correctly surmising what had just happened. It didn’t occur to either that the Californian might be hurt himself because all the shooting had audibly been from an R91, he would have had the element of surprise... and it was Coyle.
‘All clear’ Coyle’s voice echoed down the tunnel. ‘I think I’ve got something that you might find useful Dreamer’ he added.
‘Could be boots, I got my boots off a raider he killed’ Allison told Dreamer as they set off down the tunnel after him. ‘My old ones were worn out’ she explained.
‘I’d rather not wear old raider clothes’ Dreamer replied. ‘Not again.’
As it turned out when they arrived Coyle was gathering the raiders weapons and more valuable possessions, he didn’t feel like stripping them for their armour. ‘For you’ he said, passing Dreamer a Combat Shotgun. ‘Until I can teach you to shoot properly now you can see clearly this is probably your ideal weapon’ he told her. ‘Good spread of shot and if you miss just keep pulling the trigger until you don’t’ he advised as she took it from him. ‘The ammunition drum is full and the previous owner had a few more twelve-gauge shells in his pockets you’ll need because it uses them up fast.’
‘Don’t I get anything?’ Allison wanted to know.
‘Two of them had .32 pistols so you can have their ammo’ Coyle offered. ‘One more had an R91 so I’m taking that to sell with the pistols but of the remaining two one only had a crappy Chinese pistol that’s worse than your own automatic and the last just had a switchblade and a couple grenades on him.’
‘Could I have a grenade?’ Allison asked hopefully.
‘Not until I’ve seen you pitch and made sure you don’t throw like a girl no’ Coyle responded.
‘You didn’t give them a chance to surrender’ Dreamer realised. ‘When you found me and my old gang at the Super-Duper Mart you gave us the chance to surrender’ she pointed out.
‘Which earned me a bunch of shotgun pellets in my hand and you’ Coyle responded flatly. ‘I’m not making that mistake again’ he said. ‘One of these assholes might have had an even sorrier tale of woe to tell than you did and pretty soon I’d have half the Capital Wasteland trailing on behind me if I adopted every stray I came across.’
‘That’s not very nice’ Allison chided him. ‘I thought you liked Dreamer now.’
‘That’s the problem, I think I’m going soft’ Coyle replied sadly, bending down to take the scarf off a raider so he could use it to wipe some blood off one of the .32 pistols.
Presumably more raiders would eventually be moving into the metro lines but they found Museum Station under the Mall just as deserted as Anacostia had been. Dreamer thought it probable that the raider gang’s boss had assigned the job of getting both stations ready for occupation to the small group Coyle had dealt with in the tunnel, and the majority of the gang would relocate later once they were certain the Brotherhood wasn’t going to make a reappearance, but at least for now Coyle and the others could finish getting to where they were going unmolested. An obvious sign that the Brotherhood had been using the tunnels was to be seen in their insignia being painted on an abandoned train inside the tunnel, along with an arrow pointing towards one of their outposts. If he had been carrying any spray-paint Coyle would have been tempted to write “NCR Forever” over the BoS symbol but he settled for depreciating the quality of the artwork instead.
Taking the station exit that led to the Museum of History they emerged to the sound of gunfire which was distant, if not too distant, and in considerable amount. Making his way slowly and carefully up one of the bank of inert escalators until he could look around properly Coyle saw that he wasn’t too far from the Washington Monument and the Mall itself looked like a warzone.
Off to the west towards the Capitol Building lasers and tracer fire along with the occasional explosion indicated where the front line was between the Brotherhood and the Super-Mutants. It looked like the Steel Plague had done a good job of digging in and if they were being pushed back due to heavy losses Coyle could only imagine how many mutants must have died in order to accomplish that.
On the plus side there weren’t any super-mutants or knights near the museum so remaining cautious Coyle continued up the escalators until he spotted a ghoul appearing to be guarding the entrance to the museum carrying a laser rifle and with what remained of her hair dyed bright red. ‘Just wait here while I go talk to someone’ he instructed Allison and Dreamer. ‘I shouldn’t be long’ he told them.
‘What do you want smoothskin?’ the ghoul asked, her voice coarse like most ghouls but still recognisably feminine.
‘Just taking a look around, visiting the nation’s majestic capital and seeing the sights’ Coyle replied brightly. ‘Doing the tourist thing you understand.’
‘You’re kidding?’ the ghoul responded.
‘No, I travelled all the way from the west coast to get here and I couldn’t possibly leave without poking around a couple of museums, seeing the Washington Monument and maybe buying a few postcards to take home for the folks’ Coyle told her. ‘Are you one of the tour guides?’ he asked. ‘No I guess what with the gun you’re a Security Guard looking after the exhibits and making sure pickpockets don’t prey on us tourists’ he reasoned.
The ghoul looked him in the eye. ‘Are you yanking my chain?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, but tell the truth it was kinda funny wasn’t it?’ Coyle replied, tongue firmly-in-cheek.
The ghoul laughed. ‘Yeah, good one smoothskin, I might try that one myself and pretend I think the next guy that comes along is a tourist myself just to see their reaction’ she said.
‘Name’s Coyle, a friend of mine named Sydney told me that there’s a ghoul town based inside the museum where a human that’s not a bigot can trade and maybe get a beer’ he said.
‘If you’ll talk to us like we’re people and lay off calling us zombies we’ve got no problem with your kind’ the ghoul replied. ‘I’m Willow’ she introduced herself. ‘I keep a lookout for trouble out here because I’m the best shot with the sharpest eyes’ she said. ‘If Sydney steered you our way I guess you’re okay, she’s one of the good ones.’
‘Nice to meet you Willow’ Coyle responded, offering his hand to shake which the ghoul took. When he moved from 1st Recon to the Rangers Coyle’s first instructor had been a ghoul who had been recruited into the organisation a hundred years before by Seth himself and after a while you started looking past the skin, or lack thereof, to the person inside. Of course as it happened Coyle had in fact hated his first instructor but he was proud to say it wasn’t anti-ghoul bias it was just that that he thought the guy was an asshole and the feeling was apparently mutual. ‘I’ll just collect my companions’ he said, ‘thought I should recon before I brought them up’ he continued, turning away from Willow before suddenly turning back. ‘Out of interest what’s your opinion on the Brotherhood of Steel?’ he queried.
‘They’re assholes’ Willow replied with considerable feeling.
‘Finally someone else in this town that realises that’ Coyle said happily. ‘If I wasn’t enjoying the life of a care-free bachelor so much I’d ask you to marry me’ he told her.
‘Sorry but I prefer the strong silent type’ Willow told him, trying not to drift back into her usual daydream about buying out Charon’s contract and then getting her money’s worth in the sack from the Underworld’s hottest male ghoul.
‘So how do you feel about Galaxy News Radio?’ Coyle asked her, putting down his backpack and picking up his FN-FAL.
‘Too much Brotherhood propaganda’ Willow replied. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked as Coyle shouldered his rifle and took aim at the top of the monument.
‘Expressing listener dissatisfaction with the GNR programming choices’ Coyle replied, taking a breath and holding it to steady his aim before squeezing the trigger. ‘If anyone ever asks you saw a super-mutant shoot the aerial off the top of that thing okay?’ he told Willow, grinning as he lowered his rifle again after firing a single shot and mightily pleased with himself for having struck a blow for California, freedom, democracy and jerkasses everywhere.
‘Hey tourist, how you choose to enjoy your vacation is entirely up to you’ Willow replied, assuming that he found Three-Dog and the limited record collection he repeated endlessly even more annoying than most people did.
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Note from the Author:
Theo was hired by Reilly's Rangers as quartermaster and to help bring their numbers back up after losing two of their more experienced members not too long before the events of FO3. As the rookie I could well imagine him being stuck with standing watch. According to Reilly's terminal in the game they were hired by an anonymous "Mr Smith" to map the Capital Wasteland which was a job they fitted around collecting bounties on super-mutants.
Talon Company is another mercenary outfit operating in the area and they are not on good terms with Reilly's Rangers (to the extend that they shoot at each other).
I'm going with the idea that it was the Brotherhood that turned the power back on in the Metro System given that we do see their insignia down there and I can't imagine Raiders being able to do that themselves. Manpower shortages meant that the BoS had to stop patrolling the tunnels which is when the raiders moved in and began fortifying the stations.
The ghoul settlement of Underworld lies inside the Museum of American History on the Mall with Willow standing guard outside the building, she doesn't like the Brotherhood because then tend to shoot at her kind . It's not too far from the Washington Monument (not the trickiest shot Coyle has ever made to take out the GNR aerial) and not too far from the network of trenches and bunkers that run from there up to the Capitol Building. The BoS is slowly losing ground at this point, by FO3 a few weeks later the Super-Mutants are fairly dominant in the area (it's a war of attrition and the Brotherhood can't replace their losses making it a similar situation for them as the NCR/BoS war raging back at the West Coast).