Marcus is sitting in the back of a large truck called a 'transport'. Watching through a window, he sees the settlement of Dirt Mound, his old home, shrink in the distance. Marcus has a sinking feeling in his stomach, a mixture of anxiety, and excitement.
The interior of the transport is very clean, and spacious, all things considered. The seat he is sitting on is well cushioned, and form fitting, making it very comfortable. The inside of the transport is surprisingly cool, even though there are 18 people in here including himself. According to the man seated across from Marcus, there is a thing called an 'air conditioner' installed in the transport, keeping the truck cool. It seems like every five minutes Marcus sees something new.
Marcus looks at the man across from him, he introduced himself as Bulwark. The beast of a man is 6'8, 300 lbs of pure muscle. He has short black hair, brown skin, and a scar on the left side of his face from his chin to his lip. He looks like he could rip a mans arms off with ease. Yet talks very softly, and exudes a calming, protective aura.
Apparently the name 'Bulwark' is not his original name, but a 'Callsign' given to him by the leader, or 'Commander' of the Red Scarfs after he graduated basic training. Anyone who hasn't completed their training is referred to as 'New Blood', which is why Wolf started calling him that as soon as he accepted his proposal. While it does feel a little uncomfortable not being called by his name, whenever another Red Scarf learns that he's a New Blood, their gaze loosens from a guarded one to a more welcoming one.
"So Bulwark, where are we headed to exactly?"
"Were heading back to HQ, or Headquarters. Also called the Devil's Maw, it's the base of operations for the entire Mercenary Company. Whenever a detachment of Red Scarfs complete a mission we head back to HQ for debriefing, rest, and reassignment."
"So your mission was to save Dirt Mound?"
Marcus hears a few of the other Red Scarfs laugh when they hear his comment, Bulwark just shakes his head.
"No New Blood, that wasn't our mission. We were already on are way back when Captain got a distress signal, so we altered course to engage those raiders. We were initially hired to escort a large caravan to the City of Monsoon in the Dire Marshes. You'll learn all about the major City States and landscapes of the wasteland during your training, so don't worry."
"When are we getting to HQ?"
"We will be driving for two hours then making camp for tonight. We'll be getting there some time around 1:00pm tomorrow."
The following two hours were fairly boring for Marcus. He looked out the window the whole time watching the scenery of dry shrubland, turn into dry cracked ground. The occasional old pre-war gas station breaking the monotony until eventually the sun starts to fall, the starry sky replacing it.
The convoy stops at an abandoned building on the side of the road. After clearing out the wildlife inside, sentries are posted on the roof. The trucks form a perimeter around the building, with 20 Red Scarfs keeping watch in shifts. As the building can only fit a dozen people comfortably, tents are set up within the circle of trucks. At night Marcus is paired up with Bulwark as tentmates. Bulwark was assigned to look after Marcus until they arrive at HQ, hence the pairing.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Marcus was given a sleeping bag to use, which was far more comfort than he was used to, and settled in for the night. After a few hours of rest Marcus is awoken by the sound of gunfire, jumping out of his sleeping bag he turns to see Bulwark still sound asleep, Marcus starts to jostle him awake.
"Hey Bulwark, hey! Wake up! I hear gunshots!"
Bulwarks turns over to look at Marcus with a less than happy face. He then listens to the gunshots and shrugs.
"Sounds like small arms fire from our lookout, probably taking out local wildlife getting to close. Nothing to worry about."
"Should we at least go check? What if it was something fast and sneaky, taking the guards by surprise?"
"Because if that was the case the snipers on the roof would see it attacking our guards, and issue a threat alarm, notifying everyone in camp. Trust me New Blood, whenever we camp out in the wasteland, more often than not we get attacked by something. You'll get used to it with time, now try to get some rest."
Bulwark shifts back around, leaving Marcus to his thoughts. Marcus gets back into his sleeping bag and tries not to think about a shadowy figure sneaking in to his tent and slashing his throat. Another gunshot makes Marcus jump, he then sighs. 'I'm not getting anymore sleep tonight am I?'
...
Wolf is sitting in front a collapsable table sipping coffee. Sitting across from him is his best shadow, leaning back in her chair, with her feet on the table.
"So what do you think, Moon?"
"About the New Blood? He's quite interesting! Knew that settlement like the back of his hand. Even when he was clearly distressed, he didn't make a single wrong turn on his way to that shack. He kept himself small, and quiet while moving through the alleyways, doing his best not to be seen. He slipped up a little, letting two local druggies get the jump on him while exiting the shack. Before I intervened however, the New Blood actually bluffed his way out of the situation, threatening to kill them with a gun he clearly doesn't know how to use. But can you guess the best part?"
"He felt your presence didn't he?"
"Huh? Yea your right, as he left the garbage part of town, he almost spotted me. Granted I wasn't using any of my augments, but still. Quite a find Cap'n, especially in that backwater place."
"He wasn't my find. When Mick called for aid he said that if they didn't make it, to look after Marcus for them. Said 'he's a good kid'. 'Target' always had an eye for people."
Wolf looks down at his coffee for a moment, swirling it around in the cup.
"Thanks for the report Moon, your dismissed. Go get some rest."
Moon hops up from the chair and salutes.
"Understood Captain, have a goodnight."
Watching Moon disappear in front of him, Wolf gets up and walks to the window of this dilapidated building and stare out at the starscape. Wolf thinks back to the conversation he had with Mick years ago before he left.
"You know we can set you up in any city you want right Mick? Why decide on a newly formed settlement out in the borderlands?"
"We talked about this already, Henry. Alice and I want to get away from all the political bullshit of the City States. That new settlement has a lot of potential. Farmable land, a sizable salt flat, and a reservoir of water was found underground just last week. It's in a quiet corner of the Drylands, and hey, I heard they are even looking for a chief of security. We'll be fine, really."
With a sigh Wolf shakes his head before he pushes an ornate wooden box into Micks hands.
"At least take this with you, think of it as a retirement present."
Mick looks inside before closing it with a look of shock on his face.
"You want to give me Fang? These pre-war rifle's are some of the best quality ballistic guns you can find, are you sure?"
"Of course i'm sure, I won't be around to save your sorry ass anymore. So just think of it as insurance for me."
Mick smiles and puts his hand on Wolfs shoulder.
"Thanks Captain, it means alot."
"OH NO, don't 'Captain' me Mick!" Wolf punches Mick in the arm.
"Okay, okay, sorry! Hey want to get one more drink before I take off?"
"Sure, but YOUR buying, Mr. Retirement!"
As the memory fades Wolf looks down at his coffee, and downs the rest. He then turns around and throws it, smashing the cup against the far wall. With a pain in his chest Wolf looks back at the night sky, and mutters under his breath.
"Dumbass."