Chapter 29: Greentech

The bird touched down in front of the Castle, and Jon quickly hopped on. He left his people to continue their work, and left Piper with the power armor. The fat man was left with the Minutemen, and he carried a standard issue rifle he traded for, but not his personal show stopper. He still hadn't had the chance to clean his fatigues, and was still bloody from the bout at the Combat Zone.

Hey keyed his pip-boy to the local comms, and it came though his helmet’s integral sound system as the bird picked up and flew to it’s target. He said, “Maxson, long time no see. Made progress fast.”

Maxson said, “Indeed, the courser tracking was patently obvious once we knew what we were looking for, and could translate the notes. Glory helped us confirm it was working. We’re going to Greentech. We’re still working on the actual transporter, and we’ll need to decode the chip once we get it.”

Jon nodded, “Gimme a second, I got a guy I can send you for that project. Certifiable genius.”

He clicked over to the private frequency, “Hey partner.”

“Yeah boss.”

“Our friends need a handyman, swift as the wind.”

“On it boss. Partner out.”

Jon clicked back over to the Brotherhood frequency. Maxson asked, “Who is it?”

“Sturgis.”

“I’ve read nothing but good things in the reports. Genius indeed. I’ll let my people know, thanks.”

He switched over to another Brotherhood frequency and informed his people to expect the aid. The flight wasn't long, even if the walk would have taken hours. Only minutes passed before they were dropping along the cost of Cambridge. The building half a block in. Maxson had his personal guard with him.

He said, “Riptide, take point. We’ll cover your six.”

The men and women of Riptide were relived at the order. One actually needed put under evaluation for stress when the Elder when to the Glowing Sea at all, let alone with only one other, and not a Brother or Sister. None in the Capital worshiped him as some out west, but he was still the last Maxson, and they were his vangaurd.

Maxson himself nearly hit himself when he got back and found out. However, he was never accused of being a coward, and would not refuse to do the things he asked others to do. They had patrols in there, and were always going to put patrols in there one way or the other. Now it meant standing by his men as they hunt the most dangerous foe the Institute can field. The Elder lead the way, and we was certainly not going to hide in the airport when he knew the General was out there leading his own way.

The got closer to the building, and a couple dead gunners were in the broken street, with Brotherhood in their place. There were also a device set up near the door. Jon would ask of it later. For now he said, “We find that courser, they’re mine. Put me in the hospital, I’ll drop another one of theirs in the fucking morgue.”

Maxson said, “My plan exactly. You’re the only one that has a chance to preserve the chip. Any changes?”

On of the guards responded as Jon heard dull reports of gunshots in the building, “No sir. They were dead, and the fight sounds like it’s still going.”

Maxson nodded as another bird few in from the Precinct, no doubt with reinforcements. He said, “Riptide, move in.”

They climbed up the steps of the foundation of the skyscraper. After a moment, they breached in one by one, with Jon and Maxson standing behind as they did. After another moment they called clear, and they entered as well. They passed though a foyer and into the main reception area. There were gunners lying around, and one on the desk. Jon could hear the reports clearer now that he was inside.

The main stairs to the second level were broken rubble, but there was a side path in the wall that Riptide marched though. Maxson and Jon were in tow, and let the elite squad do their work. The path took them towards the back of the building on the second level walkways, and there were two entryways to the next room, the formation split to cover them both, and voided walking straight up and though.

As they did the intercom dinged, “Courser on the second floor, shoot on sight, send reinforcements to the lobby, repeat reinforcements to the lobby.”

It wasn't a moment before those reinforcements came from the other side of the next room, though their own rooms and walkways. It was only a few however, and no match for Riptide. With their armor they could take hits, even from the Gunners who had laser weapons, and made use of their cover to avoid them in the first place. Some grenades went out towards the offending reports. They were plasma, and cooked any in range.

There was also more fighting off to the side, no doubt from the courser. Gunfire, laser, and ordinance lashed against it, but apparently did no harm as Gunners continued dying. Maxson and Jon were still hanging back, one on each side, as the Brotherhood opened with their own small arms, laser weapons. It wasn't long to clear up the last of the reinforcements and the turrets supporting them. There were two in the windows across, and two more smaller ones on the walls above.

The courser had moved on, but so were they. The elevator off to the side unfortunately refused to work, and it forced them back to the paths the reinforcements came from. Riptide moved though, back and to the right. As soon as they rounded the corner, more came out, running to carry out their orders. It never seemed to pass their mind that the enemy had already made it that far, until they were lanced though by Brotherhood weaponry.

As the climbed more steps the intercom rang again, “Courser on the third floor, secondary intruders in the East wing.”

The ones at the top of the steps here more prepared, and didn’t just run out into fire. It mattered not, because the Brotherhood still had plenty of ordinance. Riptide once again tossed a couple grenades into the breech and cook the gunners in front of them. One was only critically injured, and was put out of their misery by one of the squad as they marched up and though. Passing, Jon agreed with that action. Plasma were nasty weapons he didn’t want to get hit with. It chard and boiled flesh and fat down to the very bone. If you didn’t die outright, there was only one thing that could be done for you.

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They continued though a records room and another pathway that took them up further. The ramps was simply a collapsed part of the next for. There was a catwalk across the next room. A couple mines were on the way, and they were shot at along with the Gunners on the other side trying to return fire. They were continually suppressed as Riptide continued their inexorable march.

Jon and Maxson finally entered the fray as a couple more Gunners were on the next level up, off to their left, and tried to get flanking shots into the group, as well as turrets on the walls. Between Jon’s rifle and Maxson Gatling laser they didn’t last long. Jon could see they were trying, and other than the two idiots they were over all competent. The courser had already thinned their numbers, and they were no match for the amount of fire the Brotherhood could put out. No match for Maxson personal kill-bots. On the west side of the building the courser was still moving and killing as they moved deeper into the east side.

Every room they went though they cleared a couple Gunners, but no reinforcements would be coming from elsewhere. Every hall a couple more. The higher and higher they went, the more the place felt like a maze, Jon thought. It wasn't even from the rubble, in fact it was the only thing keeping it from being an actual maze. He wondered what he could do with it.

Perhaps just give it to the Brotherhood for whatever they want to do. They could deal with the headache of navigating it. Or it could be a formal embassy building, so others could share in the discomfort. He might just demo it. No way this place didn’t commit crimes along with everyone else, wasn't a Government front like everything else.

Riptide had finally fought their way up to the elevator. Jon was even more perturbed when the elevator didn’t take them to their destination, but to more steps and halls. They had to ride up no more than two at a time due to the weight. As they finished the ritual, and continued on, the fighting had died down. The questioning had begun.

Jon strode forward as they neared the end and gave a hand to hold back some, “What is the password.”

“Fuck yo-” And a gunshot followed.

“What is the password.”

“I don’t have the pa-” Another Gunshot.

“Please tell me the password. It is only a matter of ti-”

Jon made his entrance. His first move was to shoot the gun from the coursers hand. He threw his rifle to the side and charged in at full speed. The courser tried to get a knife from behind his back, but he didn’t know of Jon’s approach until he entered the room and had only feet to react. The Brotherhood slowed down, and stayed down the final steps while Jon did his bushiness.

Jon had his hand on the coursers throat. It was crushed with is off hand as soon as he got hold of it. Jon’s right hand crushed the wrist of the his left knife hand and held it in place as he lifted the struggling courser off his feet. There was no expression in his eyes that matched his frantic motions, using his still free right to try and beat on Jon, legs to kick into his armor.

Jon didn’t play with this food. He calmly walked over and slammed the courser on the railing around the main cooling pipes for the building’s reactor running though the room. It snapped to pieces, and the courser went limp. Due to the lack of oxygen to the courser's brain, he died not long after, but only from that and not the break itself.

Jon laid him out as the Gunners looked on, and he called, “Clear!.”

The two surviving Gunners would not move from their knees or their hands from being held up. No matter how distracted the General seemed to be. Jon took his own knife from the small of his back and rammed it blade first into the coursers neck. When the first of Riptide got up, Jon held the severed up proudly.

When Maxson walked in he scoffed, but was impressed none the less. He said, “Excellent work. You have met and surpassed my expectations in rapidly facilitating the removal of his head.

Jon chuckled and shook the head a couple times, “Yeah mother fucker, how did you like being on the other side of the drop.”

He tossed it to one of Riptide, and turned to the Gunners. He said, “You are now prisoners of war.”

“Ye-yes sir.”

“That means you will get three hots, and somewhat reasonable accommodations. In exchange for these gifts we give you, you will work instead of being shot.”

“Yes sir.”

There was one other issue in the room, no doubt the reason for the coursers presence, and why he needed the password. He asked, “Who’s the girl?”

“A synth. We were trying to sell her back to the Institute, sir.”

“Who ordered this operation?”

“HQ, sir.”

Maxson said, “Needs income after the sucker punch we gave him. Perhaps their employers are displeased and cut a tap.”

Jon nodded, “Is this a new occurrence? Like post we just kicked your asses new?”

“Yes sir.”

Jon nodded again, “Maxson, can you transport the Prisoners to Lexington for me?”

Maxson nodded, “Not a problem Jon. We’ll send them on the next trip.”

“Thanks.”

Jon turned to to the door and saw the scared and timid synth behind the glass. If Jon had to guess, she was fresh out and got separated, running her into Gunners, or it was targeted from the start rather than opportunistic. He spied the terminal to open the door, but that is not how the door would open. Jon despised slavery.

He dug his heal in and sent his other boot into the door near the latching and locking mechanism. It put a dent the size of his boot into it. Then he repeated the process, engorging it. Another time stated to sheer it. The fourth kick did sheer the door. And gave him enough of a grip he could fully man handle it open. He grabbed at the hole he made, and heaved with a not insignificant amount of effort. A final push broke its mechanism, and the mangled handle banged against the door jam it would formerly slide into.

Jon took a step in and the synth was breathing heavy. Jon softy asked, “What’s your name?”

She slowly said, “Jenny. You-your the General. They said you would always help synths. That you were our friend. I-I don’t know much yet. It sounded like a myth to give me hope.”

Jon smiled and held out his hand, “I do. And I am. Come, you’re safe now. Free to hope. Free to do whatever you want.”

She looked out, “Wh-what about them. They’re Brotherhood. They said to avoid Brotherhood.”

Jon beckoned, “You probably should, but they wont hurt you.”

She slowly walked forward and took Jon’s hand. He led her out and Maxson said, “They’re right. You should avoid us as a rule, but we can give you a ride to the SCPG. We’ll help you. Riptide, we’re done here. Take them, and send in sweep and retrieval on the way out.”

“Sir.” They all said at about the same time.

Jenny gave Jon a look, and he nodded to go with them. Two guarded her, and two guarded the prisoners as they went back down though the maze of the building. Jon asked, “So what was that device?”

Maxson put his gun down and pulled his helmet. He said, “Transport blocker. We developed our own independent from ASAMs.”

Jon nodded, “Wise move. Only a fool trusts a single tool.”

Maxson met it, “Wise words. I think I’ll make that a codex entry. I always wanted to make my own addition. Thanks. Those were prototypes, hastily deployed because of the opportunity, so I’ll read the after actions, well, after.”

Jon snickered, “Let us know if it works.”

He said, “Will do. I’ll get in contact with our mutual friends, and continue this investigation. When we’re ready for an infiltration, I’ll let you know.”

Jon smiled, “Thanks pal, really. Enjoy the spoils.”

Maxson chucked as Jon walked out and made way again though the maze. Knowing Maxson, he was going to take the roof and a short hop down, Jon knew. When the bird was done taking Sturgis, we would call in for exfill.