"Gunners?" Dawn spat out the word with venom. "The hell do those assholes want?"
The settler was still out of breath, his calloused hand clutching at the collar of his patched shirt. "We don't know, General," he panted, eyes wide, "There's a small group of them waiting at the bridge. One of them was yelling, said they wanted to make an offer."
She nodded in understanding, her expression hardening as she stomped out of the bunker to follow the messenger. MacCready followed her out, making sure that he stayed close to the shadows in fear of being recognized. There was a sense of urgency and panic amongst the settlers, most of them arming themselves and scouting their immediate vicinity for any threats. He saw an Asian couple usher an elderly woman inside one of the shacks, much to her protest, but the skittish man insisted that it was for her safety.
"General!" A shout to his left. He looked round to see Preston sprinting towards Dawn, his laser musket in tow. Preston noticed the mercenary behind her, but made no effort to acknowledge MacCready. "They're at the bridge."
This only caused Dawn to jog to the entrance of Sanctuary, determination in hers and Preston's faces. MacCready followed them cautiously, his blue eyes darting around to try and find any vantage points within Sanctuary. As they rounded the corner he saw a small group of mercenaries on the other side of the bridge, all of them menacing and holding their weapons with a vice grip. Dawn stopped just outside the last row of pre-war houses, turning around to address them both.
"Both of you, stay here." She ordered before she went on her way, but Preston immediately placed a hand on her shoulder and stood in front of her.
"Dawn, stop." He looked worried, a gentleness now softening his previous expression. "The Gunners are nothing but dogs with guns. They know no diplomacy, they'll just betray you as soon as they get the chance-"
"I have no other choice," she pleaded desperately. Preston opened his mouth to protest, but she spoke quickly to interrupt. "Preston, diplomacy is the only true skill I have. It's the only thing out here in the wasteland that I'm not useless at!" She quickly gasped with regret, now full of remorse for raising her voice at him. Her eyes started to water, but she held back tears with the resolve to appear strong. "Please..."
Preston stilled as he quickly searched her eyes. With nothing else to say he sighed deeply and slowly removed his hand. He stepped aside, and Dawn walked briskly past him, her posture stiff and her eyes downcast. MacCready watched her as she walked across the bridge and stopped halfway. He heard one of them whistle crudely, a gaggle of laughter following the sound as they sneered amongst each other. MacCready spoke to Preston quietly, without taking his eyes off the action, "You any good with that thing?" He was referring of course to the laser weapon in the man's hands.
"I'm good enough," Preston answered.
A tall man donned in combat uniform sauntered towards Dawn, his head tilted cockily as he towered over her. It was too far to hear what they were saying, but judging by Dawn's body language the conversation had taken a direction that she was not happy with. MacCready observed the rest of the group, his jaw clenching when he could only count fourteen of them. Thankfully, no one within the group were Gunners that he recognized.
"Fourteen shooters," Preston confirmed unprompted.
"Mm-hm," MacCready mumbled, "Plus change, I'm sure."
"Not a lot of cover between us and th-"
The tall gunner on the bridge suddenly grabbed Dawn by the collar of her road leathers, his face right up beside hers as he uttered hushed threats. Preston powered up his laser musket but Dawn quickly raised her hands behind her, her head twisting to face them and shout "Stand down!"
Preston's jaw clenched as he obeyed, but he made sure that his gun was ready to fire at a moment's notice. The Gunner laughed as he let go of her, sneering at the settlers who were aiming their guns at him. They said their final words, discussion now over, and he walked away to his group while Dawn walked shakily back to Sanctuary.
"We have one hour," she said, her breathing heavy with restrained panic as she quickly made her way to the main building. She took her pistol out of her holster and fired two rounds into the air. "Minutemen! Meeting room! Now! No-body attacks them unless they attack us!"
Everyone of importance and of high rank immediately assembled inside the pre-war house, each one stone faced and serious. They all jostled passed MacCready, much to his growing ire, but his patience finally wore thin when Dawn halted him at the doorway, her arm barring him from entering.
"No, MacCready," she instructed tersely. "This is Minutemen business now. Go elsewhere and wait for me."
Dawn didn't wait for him to answer and entered the room, leaving MacCready slack jawed and stunned outside. Preston slipped passed him to shut the door, but not before he gave MacCready a hard stare that screamed know your place. He could hear her voice through the broken windows - suggestions and tactics no doubt being pitched across that wooden table - and the replies echoing back from the people she deemed important.
They're playing you for a fucking fool, he wanted to tell her. He knew how these assholes worked. He used to be one of them, for god's sake, but he was too caught up with being patronized by the Minutemen to confront her.
He took a second to gather his thoughts before he grit his teeth in anger. Not wasting a moment he quickly ran to the bunker. He spotted his duster folded up on the bed, his bag of caps bulging under his pillow. He grabbed them both and hastily put on his hat.
The mercenary thought about Dawn's previous words to him, and he scowled at being placed in the back seat.
Fuck that, boss.
He slinged back his rifle and headed outside, slinking away into the shadows as he sneaked to the back of the bunker. He slipped passed a patrolman, keeping himself out of sight as he escaped Sanctuary.
X
MacCready moved quietly as he moved through the brush, his body hunched as he kept his profile low. He knew that the Gunners by the river were only there for show. They were on the offensive, which meant that the rest of the group were hidden away, waiting to attack from behind.
There were hushed whispered ahead of him - and God he hated being right - but they were all out of his sight to gauge exactly how many Gunners were hidden away.
Sneaking between the scorched trees, he slowly made his way towards the group of Gunners in front. He hid behind the trunk of a particularly large tree, his mind now whirring as he planned his next plan of action-
An arm snapped round from behind him and pulled him into a stranglehold, his windpipe slowly being crushed to prevent him from yelling. Stars began to swim across his vision as he was dragged towards the group. The hold on him suddenly loosened and he was dropped on his back, gasping for air.
"Well, if it isn't MacCready."
He leaned up on one elbow, the other hand massaging his neck as he looked up at a man in power armor standing over him. The young mercenary scowled as he glared back the Gunner, vitriol pooling in his blue eyes.
"Winlock," he spat out the name like a bad taste in his mouth. "Should 'a known your slimy ass would be here-"
All breath left him as the heavy metal of Winlock's foot pressed down onto MacCready's chest, all air leaving him as the suited mercenary leaned down menacingly.
"I'm giving you five seconds to tell me why I shouldn't crush a deserter like you to death."
MacCready's hands scrabbled over the metal plates in a panicked effort to push him off. Winlock's weight shifted to allow him to breathe, and MacCready gasped for breath once more. Now knowing that his life was timed by the second, he grabbed his bag of caps and threw it at Winlock. Winlock caught it, but made no effort to look at its contents and passed it to the man next him.
"Gosh darn it, MacCready," Winlock growled, mocking the young man's aversion to cursing, "In case you need reminding, your debt is much bigger than that. Four thousand caps is what we agreed, now pay up."
"Four thousand?" MacCready protested, his eyes wide, "We agreed on two thousand, you lying son of a-"
He was cut off once again by Winlock's boot, more weight this time pressing onto MacCready's ribcage.
"Your loss," he sneered, "I guess I can make up the rest of the caps by selling your son to some slavers. Duncan, was it?"
Genuine fear flashed across MacCready's face this time, and Winlock reveled at the power he now had over him. "I know where he is...and after I'm done with you, I'll send your severed finger to him as a little birthday present-"
"W-wait!"
Winlock stopped pressing down, his sneer growing at MacCready's wheezed plea. He tilted his head, humoring himself as he looked down at the desperate mercenary at his feet. "Last words?" He jeered.
"I know the leader of the Minutemen!" He wanted to kick himself so hard for blurting out such a useless plea, but it was the only coherent thought in MacCready's addled mind.
This caught Winlock's interest however, and his smirk momentarily faltered, but he kept his foot firmly pressed onto the young merc's chest. "Go on," he ushered.
MacCready was dizzy from the lack of oxygen and his brain was racing with frantic thoughts - think, RJ, just think of anything - but his mind screamed for Duncan's safety. "I know why you're here," he began, his mouth dry, "You're here to take this outpost and have Gunner control over the north of the Commonwealth. I know your little negotiation with the Minutemen General is a sham, I mean, it's worth a shot to see if they surrender Sanctuary easily to save you on ammo and men..." He was clutching at straws now. It's no good telling Winlock his own plan. "I'll keep it simple; you need me."
Winlock leered at the young man at his feet, watching the fear in MacCready's eyes slowly disappear. With anger Winlock shifted his foot upwards, his foot now on MacCready's head in preparation to crush his skull.
"And why the fuck would I need you, boy?" He seethed, spittle raining down from his outburst.
"I now have access to Minutemen plans, information, locations," MacCready rambled, his head pounding from the weight. "I can get anything you want from the inside. You can get rid of the Minutemen once and for all and just-" A strained gasp escaped him when his mind looped back to Duncan's face. "Please leave my son out of this, j-just tell me what you need me to do!"
The squeezing feeling on his skull stopped, and after what felt like an eternity the weight finally lifted. He took in deep breaths in an effort to calm his nerves, a horrendous feeling now growing at the pit of his stomach. MacCready looked back up at Winlock, the Gunner's expression unreadable.
"Send couriers to the Mass Pike Interchange," Winlock instructed, "I want locations of all of their outposts, supply routes and whoever else is in command. Tell your general to give us a share of farm produce for the Mass Pike to feed our recruits, and we'll leave this place peacefully."
Fuck, fuck, fuck...
A large laser rifle pointed down at the young mercenary before Winlock added; "If you fuck up one more time, I'll make sure to mail you back Duncan's little finger."
MacCready stayed silent, but nodded in grave understanding.
The fuck have I done?
X
The journey back to Sanctuary was all a blur, and MacCready thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't seen on the way back there. He stumbled his way over to the main building, barging his way into the main meeting room despite Dawn's previous instruction to stay out. Preston's shoulders rose, his face stern when his eyes locked onto MacCready.
Dawn's voice carried on as she surmised her plan, oblivious to the heated stare between Preston and her hired gun.
"We can take them from this side of the river, I want three of our patrolmen to go around the bank to flank them-" Dawn quickly faltered as she spotted MacCready across the table, her expression now livid at his insubordination, "I told you, you can't be here!"
"If you were planning an attack, there are more Gunners behind the hill," he interjected, pointing at the wooded area outside the window opposite them, "I've scouted the area. We are surrounded."
The surrounding Minutemen fell silent, Preston's face now disturbed even more so, "You mean to tell me there's more of them out there?"
MacCready nodded once more then turned his attention back to Dawn, "Boss, I need to speak with you in private."
Dawn gave Preston a conflicted glance before she let out a heavy sigh. Her shoulders hung low as she walked purposefully towards MacCready, grabbing his arm harshly to lead him outside. They rounded the corner and stood behind the house, the dark shadows underneath Dawn's eyes made ever more evident in the moonlight. Her brow was furrowed as she faced him impatiently.
"What is it?" She said, crossing her arms. MacCready took in a deep breath, choosing his words very carefully.
"Boss, you have to negotiate with them," he began, "You won't be able to defend against them, you'll lose too many people." He gestured around him, Dawn following his gaze to the settlers nearby, "You have farmers, traders, engineers...but they're not killers. The Gunners, they are all highly trained and very dangerous. You'll be putting too many lives at risk."
"I-I know," she stammered, the weight of the situation pulling her down, "But this is our home! They made it perfectly clear that they want us to either surrender Sanctuary or they'll gun us down. Nothing else." She let out a shaky breath as she brushed back her hair, all traces of hope now gone from her eyes, "Now you tell me there's more of them hiding away...and I just- I-I don't know what to do anymore..."
MacCready watched her as her shoulders began to tremble, but Dawn was trying her absolute hardest not to let her emotions get the better of her. As a last resort he bent down and placed both of his hands on her shoulders, gently squeezing them in reassurance.
"You said early on that your only skill in the Commonwealth is diplomacy," he spoke softly, "I've got connections in Goodneighbor, and I've heard through the grapevine that the Gunners are recruiting at the Mass Pike Interchange." Dawn looked up and met his eyes, studying his expression as he talked. "They need a constant source of food to keep up the flow of new mouths to feed. I'm sure you can work something out."
The silence between the two of them was agonizing, and MacCready sincerely hoped that she will take his advice. Dawn didn't look any less scared, but hope was beginning to come back to her brown eyes.
"What if they won't take my offer?" She whispered, and MacCready could only squeeze her shoulders to keep her from getting too caught up in her doubts.
"I believe in you," he assured, but he found it difficult to find any truth in his words. He had known this woman for barely a week, but right now she was the only chance he had at keeping his son safe. The sinking feeling in his stomach grew to an unbearable size when Dawn smiled back at him, taking his statement - his lie - to heart.
"Thank you," she said, the smile on her face sincere, "I'm glad I've hired you...you've given me some helpful advice during the past week."
God, it's too easy to lie to her...
He found it difficult to smile back, the guilt in his conscience now overpowering.
"It's what I'm here for, boss."
X
The hour was up, and the Gunners across the river shouted for Dawn to come back to the bridge. When Dawn and the Minutemen assembled at Sanctuary's entrance a heavy silence fell over them all. She walked ahead on her own, just like before, and conversed with the tall Gunner on the broken bridge. There was no shouting this time, but the discussion was taking longer than the first meeting.
MacCready stuck to the shadows once more as he observed the negotiation from afar, silently praying that Dawn's self-proclaimed diplomacy skills were as good as the others believed. Regardless of the outcome, he knew he was in trouble, but for Duncan's sake he knew he had no choice but to betray the Minutemen if she succeeded.
Whatever the cost, he thought to himself.
After what seemed an age, the Gunner on the bridge walked back to his group whilst Dawn stood her ground. The tall mercenary whistled loudly through his teeth and the Gunners retreated. No one in the settlement dared to speak, and all eyes were on Dawn as she trudged slowly back to Sanctuary.
She walked up to Preston and nodded tersely before they walked wordlessly back to the center of Sanctuary. MacCready couldn't wait any longer, so with a huff he made a beeline in Dawn's direction. She turned around cautiously as she heard the mercenary's footsteps and then trailed into a stop as she faced him.
"Boss," he called as he halted in front of her, "What did they say?"
Preston looked to Dawn too, and the two men waited tensely for an answer.
"I offered all produce from Sunshine Tidings farm to go to the Mass Pike Interchange, on the condition that they will leave and steer clear of the north." A shaky hand rose to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "They agreed."
MacCready released a strained sigh of relief, "So we're safe, then."
Dawn nodded, her eyes averted to the ground.
"Yeah..." She whispered, "For now, we're safe."