POV Marowski
Things had been going poorly for me recently. First several minor gangs in Goodneighbor were wiped out by mercs. Then lots of good men got devoured by a freak horde of Feral Ghouls. Then the contacts I had in the Gunners were killed by the Enclave. Now the Gunners are at war with the Enclave. Which means I can't hire them to cause issues for Hancock anymore. Now I am having a nightmare trying to find a Roboticist to get the Big Dig back on schedule. Without that info, it means that violence is likely my only option.
'Sigh. Is there really no other way? It will cause too much damage. I don't want to have to waste all my time or licking my wounds. Especially with all the cuthroats around here.'
My thoughts are interrupted by my right-hand man, Stan.
"Boss, got more bad news," Stan says with a frown.
"Sigh. What now?" I say annoyed.
"Malone kidnapped Nick Valentine," Stan responds.
I stand up in shock.
"That Idiot! What is he thinking?! We can't afford this kind of heat right now!" I reply in fury.
"Not fully sure why he has him, just know he does. One of our informants let us know," Stan says.
"Argh! Tell that Fat Idiot to release Nick now, or he can consider this partnership over, and I will deny we ever worked together," I say while rubbing my head in anger.
"Will do," Stan responds and moves to leave, but I stop him.
"Wait. I have another order. Gather all our allies and men. We might have to move sooner, especially if Malone decides to be stupid," I say with a scowl.
"Are you sure, sir? If we can recall our men to prepare, we might lose control of some routes. And I thought you didn't want to go violent with this job," Stan comments.
"Sigh. I don't want to go violent, but sometimes we are pushed into a corner and we must fight. As for the routes, we can just hold off on trades for a while. We are stocked plenty enough until at least Spring," I reply.
"What about Trish?" Stan asks.
"Huh? What about her?" I ask back.
"She has requested more help for the upcoming deal. While it's unlikely that anyone would try anything, she only has a single guard for the upcoming deal. She is nervous that she might not be able to defend the product if an attack happens," Stan explains.
I think about her request and recall the details of this particular deal. Once I do, I nod to myself.
"Sure, let her pick 5 more men to accompany her. However, all other staff, besides our chemists, are to come to the meetup point we have set up. Let everyone know that anyone who doesn't show up will be marked for death, no matter the excuse. No exceptions. I want every man and woman we can get for this," I reply.
"Sure thing, boss," Stan says, and I see someone coming towards my office.
"Good, now get going," I send him away and get ready for the VIP who just walked in.
"Good morning, Marowski," says the man in the black overcoat.
"Hello, please have a seat. I hope you bring good news," I say nervously.
"I bring news from the Directorate. They want to know why you haven't fulfilled your side of the deal," the man says with an eerily calm voice.
"I-I am working on it. There have been some minor delays. But I assure you, I have moved to use Plan B if I can't use Plan A. By no later than Spring, I will have completed my end of the deal, I promise," I say with a nervous sweat.
"The plan was supposed to start by now. The Directorate is not happy about that. So we have come to a decision. You will use Plan B. We will provide additional resources, but you must drag the Railroad into this conflict. You have two weeks to prepare. If you delay again. You will be replaced," the Synth Courser threatens.
"O-O-of course. I swear we will b-be ready in t-two weeks. You have my word," I say while shaking a bit in fear.
Gulp
I breathe a sigh of relief as the Courser leaves, and I don't wait to begin planning the attack in detail. I thank my foresight for ordering everyone to start mobilizing and adding a threat, so they hurry. But I was troubled about how I was supposed to get the Railroad involved.
'I need to capture an agent or maybe some Synths? Or something. I can use Fred to make some Chlorine Gas. It shouldn't be too hard. That man's a high idiot, but he can make some things. I'll start some rumors that should get the Railroads' attention.'
I get to work and realize that I should have never made that deal. But there was no time for regrets now.
POV Mr. House
"And you are certain you found no traces of him?" I ask the former sniper before me.
"Like I said. I have looked everywhere. The last traces I found were at the entrance to the Divide. But I checked that place and all that remains is a radioactive crevasse that has no visible bottom. If he went there, then he is either dead or if he managed to get into the Rockies. Either way, there's no trail to follow," Boone responds.
"Very well. Then I suppose this is the end of this job. But if you are interested, I have another job for you," I offer.
"Not interested. I have nothing left to do. I paid back my debt to him as best I could, and with no Legion to kill, I thought I would head South to fight the Raider Gangs with Raul," Boone responds.
"Sigh. Very well, then you may leave. But send Cass up here when you head down to collect your things," I request, and Boone nods.
I was disappointed by the results but not too surprised. My sensors had indicated a massive spike in radiation coming from the Divide a few years ago. If the Courier was there when it happened, then I sincerely doubted they survived it. They may have been lucky to survive two shots to the head, but a Nuclear blast is something else.
'Finding good help is quite complicated these days.'
I was lucky that the allies of the Courier stayed behind and helped out for a while. Or at least some did. The Nightkin left quickly. Then the Enclave member was kicked out after their failed rebellion, and he took the Eyebot with him. The former Brotherhood member went East to rejoin her group. The Ghoul left sometime after that to return home and fight Raiders. And now Boone had left to go do the same. I had no idea why they would do something so useless, but it was their life they were risking not mine. Now all that was left was a Cyberdog and a drunk cowgirl. I was sure the only reason Cass stuck around was to mooch off my alcohol.
The elevator opens, and Cass comes walking in with a glass of Whiskey in her hand. I had to stifle my urge to sigh audibly. I would use someone else for this task, but I had no one else I could count as trustworthy for this job. And despite her flaws, Cass was an experienced caravaner, and she was loyal to contracts.
"So what do you need, old man?" Cass says with no respect.
"I have a job for you if you are done being drunk? It pays quite well and should be something that fits your job experience," I respond with some exasperation in my tone.
"And leave you all alone in this ivory tower? What would you do without me?" Cass responds while taking a drink.
This time, I can't keep it in and sigh audibly.
"Sigh. Yes, whatever would I do? Now, if you are done joking, I would like to explain the details of the job," I reply.
"Fine, but I don't guarantee I will take the job," Cass responds.
"I need someone to travel to the East Coast. I have been receiving signals. Garbled signals, but signals nonetheless. I also need eyes and ears to what is happening on the East Coast. Your job will be to lead a caravan from New Vegas through the Midwest and to the signal source. You will stop at bunkers and communication stations along the way to connect to my network, allowing me to stay in contact with the Securitron I will send with you for protection. You will be paid 50k Caps. 30k up front to cover the expenses of the trip, and the remaining when you return or if I find a way to deliver the remaining amount owed," I explain.
"Whistle. That's a lot of Caps. This job must be pretty important. I might be interested in taking this job, but 50k is a bit low for a trip across the US. Most of that trip would be uncharted or crawling with all sorts of nasty stuff," Cass replies.
"60k Caps. 35k up front, and if you try to ask for more, I will have you start paying back the cost of the drinks you have been drinking day in and day out for the past several years," I reply coldly.
My threat works perfectly, and she agrees right away.
"I do have a few questions? How will I connect with your network? How will I know where to find these places? What was the signal from? Where was it from?" Cass asks in rapid succession.
"In order. The Securitron will connect for you. He will also be programmed with a map that has the general locations for all the possible locations. If one doesn't work, then you will move to another until you find a station that can link with my network. The signal was from an old facility I created for the US Military. It was a large robot production facility. Beyond that, I can't even tell what the signals were trying to say. It's located near the City of Boston in the state of Massachusetts. And besides that, you should avoid mentioning that you are under my employment. There are... some individuals who might kill you to cause me issues. If they ask, you will say you bought the Securitron from a robot trader. It will be a large enough divergence from my usual Securitrons that they should believe you. And if they really check, they will see that it is a reprogrammed Securitron," I respond.
(AN: I am calling the places as States, as finding info on what Commonwealth was called what in the source material can make it confusing for readers. And it would just be wordy. So States it is.)
"Is it reprogrammed? And who are these people?" Cass asks.
"Yes, it was reprogrammed by Benny quite some time ago. I have to admit he did an acceptable job for having no formal education. I just tweaked a few things here and there to make it do what it needed to do. As for the people. They are a group of foolish men and women who live in the past. They are playing some so-called Great Game. I am above playing such foolish trivialities, but they don't care who is playing and who isn't playing. I imagine the Great War killed a few of them, but most likely survived. I know because I had to deal with one of them a decade or so ago. They are no threat to me. But you, I can't say the same for," I reply calmly.
"Okay, got it. Look out for old men with bad intentions. Anything else?" Cass says with a mocking tone.
"That was all. Talk with Victor to get your initial payment, then leave as soon as you are ready. You can name the Securitron whatever you want. I don't care. And take the Cyberdog with you. I am tired of dealing with it," I respond.
Cass nods and walks away, leaving her empty glass of Whiskety behind. I just sigh and have a robot clean it up.
'God, I miss having professional workers.'
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Author's Note:
Wow, Mr. House makes his appearance, and so does Cass. I wonder what the signal source is from. I will be expanding on what happened in New Vegas in this story, but not until a bit later. As for Marowski, it seems like he is in quite a dilemma. The Drums of War have started, and there is no stopping them now. Until next time, Ciao.