After few days in spectecle island, The comms unit suddenly crackled with static before Castle Radio's urgent voice cut through.
Radio Operator (Castle):"Commander Sarah, urgent message priority for you— Able Team's been ambushed near Covenant. Reports say Robert MacCready's injured, Curie's been taken. Repeat, Curie has been kidnapped during reconnessence."
Sarah's head snapped toward the console, her voice tightening.
Sarah:"…Dammit. Right at the moment General Nate's marching into the Glowing Sea."
She steadied her breath, forcing her voice into measured calm.
Sarah (into comms):"Is there any plan on the table from Preston?"
Radio Operator (Castle):"Preston's mobilizing Delta to hold the northern routes. He suggests pulling Charlie back for a counter-recon sweep, but—without Nate—the men are hesitant. Morale's shaky, Commander. They weren't ready for Covenant to strike first."
Sarah's jaw clenched as she exchanged a glance with Mayling, then turned back to the console.
Sarah (firm):"Tell Preston I'll be en route. We'll coordinate a rescue op for Curie, and I need every scrap of intel on Covenant pulled and cross-checked before I hit the ground. Able Team's blood won't be wasted."
She cut the channel, silence filling the command post as the weight settled. Sarah:"Mayling you have the command in here, i heading out with 404."
Mayling without hesitation with salute: "Yes ma'am!"
The Vertibird's rotors thundered over the wasteland after few hours from spectactle island, its cabin lights dimmed to red as the night pressed against the windows. Sarah sat strapped into the jump seat, helmet off, eyes fixed on the holomap projection flickering on her wrist console. Across from her, Team 404 cleaned weapons with the kind of casualness that only came from years of dancing with death.
HK416 ran a rag over her rifle, eyes flicking toward Sarah.
HK416 (deadpan):"What ticked them off? Covenant usually just plays bunker-dweller like in the middle of nowhere. Last I checked, isolationists don't pick fights unless someone pokes their beehive."
UMP45 leaned back, smirking as she chamber-checked her SMG.
UMP45 (mock-serious):"Maybe MacCready tried to haggle a little too hard. Or maybe Curie got caught lecturing them on proper sanitation. You know how people love unsolicited science advice."
UMP9 (grinning):"Or maybe they just realized the Minutemen were finally becoming a real army again. Nothing stirs paranoia like neighbors suddenly getting organized."
416 snorted, slamming a fresh mag into her rifle with a click.
HK416:"Or someone inside Covenant's pulling strings. Normal settlers don't do precision ambushes."
Sarah finally looked up from her holomap, her tone even but edged with steel.
Sarah:"Covenant isn't a farming community — it's a façade. I've suspected as much since their recruitment practices didn't line up with what we knew. If they've taken Curie, it means they want information—or they're hiding something far uglier."
The cabin went quiet for a beat, the hum of the rotors pressing down. Then UMP45 leaned forward, grinning that lopsided grin.
UMP45:"Ugly secrets in a creepy little town? Commander, you really know how to pick our vacations."
Sarah (flat, but with the ghost of a smile):"Then pack sunscreen, 45. This one's going to burn."
The Vertibird banked hard, engines roaring as Starlight's floodlights came into view on the horizon — their staging point before Covenant. As soon as Team 404 touched down at Starlight under the whine of rotor wash, boots crunching against the cracked pavement as they moved in to link up with Preston's men. The staging area looked tense but organized: Minutemen were stacking crates of munitions, checking rifles, and whispering about the Covenant situation.
Inside the medical bay, MacCready leaned against a cot, his side freshly bandaged but his voice steady as he laid out what he'd learned.
"Ugh....Honest Dan wasn't wrong," he muttered while groaning in pain. "That place isn't just some quiet little farmstead. Covenant's very paranoid about synths — to the point where any traveler that passes through? Odds are they don't come back. Traders, drifters, hell, maybe even whole families. All missing."
Preston frowned, pacing as he pieced the reports together. "So the disappearances tie back to Covenant. Visitors go in, never come out." He tapped his finger against the map. "According to MacCready's recon, the place has four pre-War houses, a neat little farm, But surrounded by a concrete wall around the whole perimeter. Rectangular fortress design, bristling with at least eight automation advanced turrets. Too much firepower for a sleepy settlement. That alone raises red flags."
Sarah's voice cut through the room, sharp and low."And Curie? She's not the type to provoke anyone. How was she taken?"
MacCready's expression hardened, remembering. "Able team and I were running a perimeter sweep. Curie got curious, wanted to check on the settlers' health. She walked in with two Minutemen after passing that 'SAFE' test from their watchman, Swanson. Everything seemed calm. She did her checks, started to wrap up…" His jaw clenched. "Then out of nowhere, a group of armed men sprang the trap. They hit Able team hard, I took a bullet, and before we could rally they grabbed Curie in the chaos. Dragged her off inside."
A heavy silence settled over the group. The air was thick with unspoken anger.
Dust rose in low ribbons as the Minutemen formed up on the road to Covenant. They weren't an army — not yet — but they were visible: rows of service rifles, patched leather, a handful of scavenged miniguns and a jury-rigged missile launcher mounted on a flatbed. Artillery teams were still assembling behind the walls of the Castle; only the promise of heavy fire existed for now.
Preston moved along the line, checking faces. "Listen up," he said, voice low and steady. "We're going in to show numbers and force their hands. We make noise. We make the enemy choose where to put their guns. We don't break the town to pieces if we can help it — we bring Curie home."
Bravo's return was a morale spike. They'd come back from the west with volunteers — farmers, caravan guards, a few veterans who'd fought alongside Curie when she patched wounds and suture jobs in exchange for food. Most knew, and didn't care, that Curie wasn't wholly human. That alone stiffened shoulders.
"Bravo's got your back," their sergeant promised. "We're owe her of our life."
Charlie and Delta were tied up handling hotspots across the southern Commonwealth and shoring up the Castle's defenses, as for the Covenant's main gate — down by the road and the river to the south — forced the Minutemen to approach from the east and southeast instead.
On a ridge a few hundred meters back, Team 404 shadowed the column. Sarah rode with them, SHD Tech transceiver tapped to ISAC, eyes running feeds and listening for the smallest change in static. She'd pushed for a show of force — but it had to be surgical. No needless slaughter. Curie wasn't a bargaining chip; she was a teammate.
"HK, G11 — high overwatch," Sarah said, pointing to the east flank. "Find me a line of sight on every turret. 9 and 45, you're insertion pair. Quiet in, soft hands on their targeting arrays. If you can flip the network, do it. If not — hard cut and splice, last resort."
HK416 clicked her confirmation. Her optic calibrated, feed spooling to ISAC for a pre-check. G11, unbothered, popped a soda and settled by the gun mount like a cat preparing to pounce.
UMP9 and UMP45 exchanged a grin that didn't reach their eyes. "In and out," 9 said. "No heroics."
"Unless it's fun," 45 added.
Z11 and Ghost Mule humvee weren't on the roster — she'd left earlier to ferry Nate and the T-45 toward the Glowing Sea from the castle, as the Humvee wouldn't be back in time. That absence tightened the plan: less heavy lift, more speed and stealth.
MacCready shuffled into the staging area on his crutch, eyes burning to go. He limped up to Sarah, voice rough. "I can move. I can help. Tell me where—"
Sarah cut him off with the gentlest cruelty she could muster. "You're hurt, Robert. You have one job: keep your eyes and ear to the ground and call anything you hear and see. We'll bring Curie back. You help us with intel." She held his gaze a second longer. "You sit this one out for now."
His jaw set, but he nodded. He knew when to press and when to fold — this time he folded.
Preston barked last orders, then the column began. The Minutemen marched with rattle and clank; Bravo's volunteers kept tight, rifles ready. as other volunteers melted into position at the south perimeter. with their makeshift minigun stuttered, then warmed to life, a low mechanical menace that announced they could hurt you if you pressed them.
Team 404 slid into the shadows like ghosts. HK416 and G11 took their vantage; their optics fed Sarah a mosaic of turret arcs and patrol routes. ISAC chewed through firmware signatures and flagged an overwrite opportunity on two of the eight emplacements — firmwares close enough to a standard target array that a soft push might flip the targeting priority.
Sarah's jaw tightened. "That's our window," she said. "Preston, when your diversion hits the wall, the insertion team moves. 9 and 45 — you get one pass. If ISAC can't push the override, you cut the bus."
"Copy," UMP9 replied. UMP45 affixed a soft-silencer and tucked a micro-splice kit into her vest. They were ready.
With the convoy as bait and the Minutemen pushing forward loud and obvious, the plan hinged on a single truth: speed and surprise. If the Covenant reacted to the front, Team 404 would be inside their rectangle.
Covenant's Persepective
Honest Dan's constant questions about his missing client's daughter had finally earned him a spot in the watchman's cramped holding cell. His prying was an irritation, but now it seemed to have reached the wrong ears — the Minutemen's.
At first, their survey of the town went smoothly. Then one of their own, a female doctor, grew too curious about the health of Covenant's settlers. Her "SAFE" test came back clean — too clean, almost scripted. Mayor Jacob quietly relayed this to the Compound, but the response was swift and brutal: armed men stormed in, clashed with the Minutemen outside, and dragged the doctor into Covenant before anyone could question it.
Jacob himself was shaken, unsure why the Compound had moved so brazenly or what they intended to do with her if she truly was a synth. What shocked him more was how fast the Minutemen answered back. By the next day, a small army stood at their gates — rifles, heavy weapons, and banners flying — led by none other than Preston Garvey himself. Settlers panicked as the Minutemen demanded the doctor's release.
Swanson, standing tall at the gate, sneered at the display. "Let 'em huff and puff all their want. They'll never break through our walls. The turrets will see to that."
But even as his words rang with pride, a terrible realization swept through the crowd. The eight heavy turrets, Covenant's proud shield, whirred and clicked — not toward the Minutemen, but inward. Their targeting optics swept across the streets, locking onto the settlers themselves. Mothers shrieked and pulled children behind them. Farmers dropped their tools and scrambled for cover. Panic tore through the crowd like wildfire as the air filled with the mechanical hum of charging barrels.
Jacob's blood ran cold. For the first time, he saw fear in Swanson's eyes as well. The defenses that had made Covenant untouchable were no longer theirs to command.
Minutemen's perspective
Swanson's smug grin hadn't even faded when the turrets shifted with a groaning whine, all eight of them snapping inward to aim at the Covenant's own settlers. The shock rippled across the field — confusion on both sides — but Preston didn't hesitate.
"Move!" he barked, raising his rifle. "Push the gate, disarm them, and take everyone alive. No one dies unless they make it so!"
The Minutemen surged forward, boots hammering dirt and wood as Covenant's false defenses betrayed their masters. Settlers dropped weapons, crying out in fear as Minutemen stormed the streets, dragging them from cover and forcing hands behind their backs. The firefight Swanson had promised never came.
Mayor Jacob stood frozen in disbelief, his voice cracking. "Why? Why go this far? We kept order! We—"
His words faltered as a figure strode through the opened gate. A woman in mercenary gear, Division insignia stamped on her vest, eyes like steel beneath her friendly mask. Sarah didn't look at him when she answered.
"You didn't just pick a fight with the Minutemen," she said flatly. "You kidnapped our doctor. Our friend."
Before Jacob could reply, the slam of a door cut through the air. From one of the houses, UMP9 and UMP45 emerged, weapons low but tense.
"Not here," 45 reported, her voice cold. "Curie's not in any of these homes."
A shout carried across the street — Honest Dan, banging against the bars of his cell."HEY!!!!!The doc you looking for! They took her underground!" he yelled. "In and out through the watchman's house! But—" he rattled the door, furious, "—they collapsed the tunnel when you stormed in!"
HK416 didn't waste a second. She pushed past crowd and watchman's house door, fingers dancing across the terminal in the watchman's office. The screen flickered, spitting out maps and access logs. Her sharp eyes narrowed.
"There it is," she said. "Underground compound. Fishing spot east of here, below Mystic Pines. Three outflow pipes — inlet on the opposite side of the lake." She stabbed a finger at the glowing coordinates. "It matches Dan's testimony."
From the rear line, one of Bravo Team jogged up, helmet under his arm. "Sir, we found a boat near the shore. Small, but it'll carry a strike team."
Preston turned, but Sarah was already moving, checking her rifle and striding toward the lake. Team 404 fell in at her heels, the air thick with purpose.
Honest Dan's cell clanged open as a Minuteman unlatched the door. He stepped out, voice hoarse but urgent. "If you find Amelia — Stockton's girl — get her out. Please."
Sarah paused just long enough to nod, her expression unreadable, before stepping into the boat. The water lapped dark and cold as the oars bit in. Ahead, the pipes waited like open jaws.