Fallout 4: AR

68. Standoff

By the end of the week, MacCready insisted he was recovered enough to travel. We had spent our time in the room focusing on getting ourselves ready to begin the new chapter of our lives. Sparring and dry-firing weapons, long discussions about mercenary work, tactics, contracts, and how to bargain effectively filled our time. Frequent meals and rest helped build up some of the bodymass MacCready's venom fever had burned away, but he still looked worn and pale. Mending clothes, taking inventory, and reading the papers I had scrounged front-to-back prepared us as best we could to make the relatively short trek to Goodneighbor to speak with Hancock. We packed our gear, deciding to wear our Railroad disguises one last time in order to leave Diamond City as anonymously as possible.

MacCready wrinkled his nose at the short reinforced jacket. Despite my best efforts at scrubbing, the bloatfly gunk had stained the black leather with several lingering odoriferous smears. "As soon as we're out of the city," he declared firmly, "I'm changing back into my duster."

"No argument from me, RJ." My own jacket had fared better, and I rather liked seeing my partner in his usual green and tawny brown. "KL-E-0 can probably give us a decent price for it when we get to Goodneighbor."

"Not Daisy?" MacCready's eyebrows rose in surprise. He knew I preferred trading with the Ghoul over the intimidating robotic shopkeeper.

"Daisy can smell."

We made our departure from the Dugout Inn quietly, dropping the key on Yefim's desk and heading out the door. Rather than going into the main marketplace, I turned towards the former outfield and the smallish reservoir that provided water for the settlement. "Sheng has a water purifier," I reminded my partner, "and we're running low." MacCready nodded, following me away from the noisy chatter of the marketplace.

Hm, must be a caravan in or something, I thought, the dull roar of commerce sounding louder than usual for the past week. Might want to check to see if there are any new supplies for sale if our disguises hold up.

MacCready initially did a quick double-take when he realized we were bargaining with a pre-teen, but recovered almost instantly, a wry grin teasing his features at the brisk salesman's pitch the young man rattled off. Sheng was more than happy to sell us the purified water we needed, and I was able to practice some of the bargaining techniques my partner had taught me. Loaded down with enough water to last a couple of days, we were making our way back towards the central marketplace when the pitch of the underlying commercial hum abruptly shifted.

Frantic shouting echoed off the ramshackle walls, and MacCready pulled me off the walkway just in time to miss being trampled by two of the roving guards running towards the commotion. I ducked my head to hide my face, just in case, but the armed men raced past without a glance. We stood there for a moment, listening to the rise and fall of shocked voices, individual words distorted by the hard planes of the dwellings and shops surrounding the alley. My partner was tense, one arm hovering over the holster for his pistol. We exchanged a worried look, then cautiously crept towards the opening to the main marketplace.

It seemed as if every resident of Diamond City was witness to the confrontation playing out in the center of the square. In front of the shocked crowd, a line of guardsmen stood, weapons at the ready, surrounding the drama unfolding next to Takahashi's Power Noodles.

"Of course it had to be the noodle stand," MacCready griped in my ear. I shushed him, trying to listen.

"Don't move, Synth! What have you done with my brother?!" Two men were facing each other. The one who was shouting was pointing a gun at the other, who had his hands up in terrified surrender. "Goddammit! Where's Riley?"

"I swear," the unarmed man pleaded, voice cracking, "I'm not a Synth! We're family, Kyle! Don't shoot!"

The head of Diamond City security took a step forward, pointing his own weapon at Kyle. "Put the gun down, now!" he demanded. "There are no Synths in Diamond City!" The rest of the security detail swept the crowd with their gaze, and I ducked my face into MacCready's neck to keep from being identified. Mac threw his arm over my shoulders and tugged insistently, guiding us away from the tense standoff playing out in front of us.