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Les nodded his head towards Caulfield as he walked past. He moved a little bit closer to Chead's entrance once he had traveled a bit further away, hoping to see how the guards acted towards a Ghoul's arrival. The cigarrete fell from his mouth to the ground below as he stood, and he let it lie there for the moment.

Jono crept along the hallway that ran adjacent to the outside, crouching to remain below the window line. When his target stopped, he stopped. A lone raider, somewhat edgy after being separated from his group. Jono peeked out the open window, and threw a rock past the Raider knocking a trash can creating a reverberating rumble.

The overt sound startled the Raider and curiously, he crept closer to inspect. With that, Jono clambered out of the window and sneaked up behind the Raider, knife in hand. Though, when about four feet away from the Raider, he crunched a twig with his foot. The sound was easily enough to alert the Raider who spun around, assault rifle blazing. Jono ducked, used his free hand to push the rifle upwards and plunged the knife into his throat.

They held that position as the echoes of the gun fire bounced around and disappeared into the distance. Jono then withdrew the blade, letting the body slump to the ground. Worried the Raiders group heard that, he quickly grabbed whatever was on the Raider and clumsily ran off with it. He hid in a somewhat intact building and began searching through the loot. Some food, a bottle of purified water, the Raiders assault Rifle, various ammo for different weapons (only a few rounds for his revolver) and an assortment of scrap useful to repair his decrepit sniper.

He spent the next few hours working over his sniper, shaping and grinding various parts to fit the structure. This repair would be only temporary. It would only hold for a few shots. But it would be enough to get to the next settlement where he could buy some proper parts for his rifle and also some ammo for his revolver.

After some wandering across the rubble and roads, South spotted what appeared to be a man-made fortification in the distance. Slowly moving towards the nearest house, she chrouched down on the balcony and drew her rifle. Perring through the scope, she took a good look at the area and the people guarding it. It was crude, but it was civilisation. The people guarding it were bedraggled and beaten, dressed in worn and battered clothing, but they didn't look like raiders. Scanning the area for any other source of information, she spotted a large road sign, where most of the letters had burned out to read only "Chead". Reassured, she still kept hidden as she approached the settlement, but holstered her weapon.

"Ouch!" Jordan yelped and swore as the robot sparked and fizzed, and he snatched his hand away from the machine. Its head began spinning and spouting incomprehensible phrases at a high speed, then it suddenly stopped and fell sideways onto the floor, dead. The tall man looked despondently at the smoking pile of metal that used to be a Protectron. "Great. I told them that would be done by this evening. They'd better let me keep that bed or I'll..." His words morphed into a breathy growl of anger as he rearranged up his tool kit and began work on the second Protectron.

No, the shack wasn't comfortable and it definitely wasn't a home to him, but it was somewhere to sleep at night. The powers that be in Chead forbade any wanderers from settling down, but with his robotics skill he had managed to convince them that he would be a viable defensive asset to the town.

"Some asset," he grumbled as he prised open the control box on the back of the second robot. If he couldn't get this one working there was no reason for them to throw him out of the town and leave him at the mercy of the wastes.

There was a knock on the corrugated iron door, and Jordan's hand was instantly on the trigger of his pistol. "Go away! I'm not done yet!" A voice from outside answered him angrily.

"You'd better be done soon, Switchy boy! This place ain't gonna defend itself, and there ain't no-one gonna defend you outside these gates, you hear?"

Jordan responded by cocking the pistol with a loud snap. There was silence for a second or two, then he heard receding footsteps. He holstered the pistol. "Bloody mercs," he grunted, then finished levering off the the panel. The wires inside were a mess, and he poked around for a bit, trying to find the central processor.

It was going to be a long night.

Ivan nervously ran through Chead. Why is there always computer trouble wherever I go? And why am I always asked to fix it? Am I seriously the only computer technician left in the wasteland? Ivan thought, checking his supplies for the fifth time since leaving his tent. First, the sentient AI that didn't want to be deleted, then the blackout virus, and now this... He stopped, realizing he almost ran past his client's house. He slid across the dirt for a couple of seconds, then sprinted toward the house he was going to.

In his fear and nervousness, Ivan ran right into the closed door, cracking his glasses at the same time. He ran to the table where the targeting computer for the turrets outside. He then realized that the mercenary in charge of this sort of thing was nowhere to be found, and that he would have to hack the computer if he wanted to fix the targeting algorithms for the turrets that, for the moment, made them completely inactive. As the computer loaded the user accounts screen, he wondered how badly anyone could mess the computer up to make the system do absolutely nothing.

Ivan was an expert at hacking. He knew a few tricks that most people didn't. It only took him about fifteen seconds for him to figure out that the password was "explosions". Sighing at the clichéd password, he booted up the administrator account and got to work rewriting the targeting algorithms for the turrets.

The Flying Fin was a small bar at the edge of Bellevue. It attracted Luca’s attention due to the fact that it was a common hangout spot for travelers and adventurers alike. These men almost always had something valuable on them. These valuable ranged from water and food to bottle caps and ammo.
Luca had been planning the robbery of The Flying Fin for two weeks now. Wearing gloves and a jester mask, he entered the bar wielding a XL70E3 assault rifle and carrying an empty duffel bag over his shoulder.

Most of the Fin’s regulars were hoods or idiotic brutes that were either too drunk, too stupid, or too arrogant to pay any attention to the masked man stepping into the bar with an assault rifle held at his chest. Luca leaped on top of one of the tables and fired a few rounds into the ceiling. “LISTEN UP!!!” he shouted from behind the mask. “I WANT EVERYONE TO GET DOWN ON THE FLOOR AND THROW ANY FORM OF WEAPONS YOU MAY HAVE ON THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF YOU!!!”

Every man and woman in the bar turned their attention to Luca. The building fell silent. The bartender, an overly muscular ghoul, pulled a pistol out from his belt and fired twice in Luca’s direction. Both of the shots went wide, one of the bullets soaring into the wooden wall and the other lodging into the leg of a resident thug at a booth behind Luca. The thug screamed. Luca raised his assault rifle and peppered the bartender with ammunition until the man’s body was thrown to the ground by the force of the shots.

Everyone in the bar quickly got down onto the floor and tossed their weapons to the ground a few feet in front of them. Most of their weapons consisted of knives and clubs. The bartender appeared to the be only man armed with a firearm in the building. There was a total of about ten people in the bar. Luca instructed everyone not to resist, and suggested they keep calm and remain motionless. Carefully, quickly, yet vigilantly, Luca searched every individual on the floor, filling his duffel bag with any goods he found on their person. It took no more than ten to twenty minutes. Surprisingly, nobody resisted. When everything was collected and the duffel bag was busting at the seams, Luca made his way out the rear exit of the bar and sprinted into an alleyway.

Matthew slowly walked through an alleyway, when a masked man ran by him. Matthew glanced in his direction, and continued walking. When he left the alleyway, he could see most of Bellueve. Matthew was acking for some action.

As he approached the walls of Chead, Caulfield stopped, and retrieved a page from the coloring book, as well as the pink crayon. He wrote something on the paper, then tucked both into his pockets. He walked closer, avoiding eye contact with a guard that was giving him hateful stares. The ghoul was tired, hungry, and really needed a drink. He walked up to one of the other guards at the entrance, a tough, middle-aged woman with a double-barreled shotgun. With a slight bow, Caulfield handed her the note he written in pink crayon. In surprisingly neat handwriting, the note read:
As she read the note, Caulfield stood there, waiting for a response from the woman, watching her from behind the dark lenses in his mask.

South slared in confusion at the shopkeeper in Chead as he attempted to calm himself from laughing. The man was all over the place, and she couldn't figure out why.

"What is your damn problem?" she asked impatiently.

"Ah, you weren't joking, were ya?" the old man asked as he composed himself. "You seriously came in here and offered to trade... With these?"

"Bottlecaps are a fairly common currency across the East Coast, and West Coast, from what I've heard" she explained. "You can trade these for goods with most of the groups living on both sides."

"And you think I care about that, huh?" the man replied. The laughter had vanished from his voice. "Look, I might have some worthwhile customers turnin' up any second now. There's is no way on this earth that I'm lettin' you have any of my goods 'cause you marched in here with some Nuka Cola caps, and you ain't changin' that with your bullcrap stories about them bein' valuable. You offer me some food, supplies," He looked her up and down "Services, and I'll be sure to supply you in return."

"No deal," South angrily replied as she picked up her back and stormed out of the shop. "I'll just steal it later." she murmured to herself when out of his earshot.

The guard laughed when she finished the note, written in pink crayon. Apparently, she found it extremely hilarious. Caulfield grunted, and set down his gear, opening the sheet that contained several weapons. They were all in fairly good condition, and there was a good bit of ammo for each one. The ghoul handed her the .44, as well as all the ammo for it. His bribe worked, and the woman allowed him to enter the settlement. He gave her a respectful nod, and headed inside, listening as the gate slammed shut behind him. As he walked around in the city, he saw a Hispanic woman storming out of a shop. She was obviously angry about something. Caulfield ran over to her, writing something down as he moved. He hissed to get her attention, and handed her the paper he had written on.

South grinned when she read the note.

"I think I can help you, if you're brave," she replied. "I can get you into what may be the biggest lab to survive the War. But it's not gonna be easy. Think you're up for it?"

Les had remained watching as Caulfield had interacted with the guard, and as soon as she let him through, he began to move. Confident in his persuasive abilities, he didn't plan on having to bribe the guard to enter the settlement. He stepped up to the group of men and women at the gate, almost casually, and waited for the nearest to speak. He happened to be a wiry man holding a pistol tightly, its barrel aimed at the ground.

"What the hell do you want?"

Les countered with a previously thought out reply. "I'm with the ghoul, in the gas mask, who just came through here."

The guard snorted, crossing his arms. "Yeah, right. Then what was the mute's name?"

Les had to bite down on his lip to keep from smirking. The guard had mistakingly supplied him with a valuable piece of information - well, valuable to the current conversation. "He's mute. Never told me what his name was." He quickly added, "I just met him back in Bellavue."

The guard's brow furrowed. "Yeah, sure. Well, you still have to hand over that damn rifle. For safekeeping." He grinned, revealing rotten teeth.

Les looked him square in the eyes. "Fine. I'll pick it up again on my way out." He doubted that he really would, but figured he was lucky just to get into the settlement. It was a piece of s--t anyway. The guard motioned for another to open the gate, and Les walked through. He trotted right past the ghoul who had just unwittingly aided him, spinning around as he passed for a double take on the woman standing with him. She had a hard look to her. Les discarded the pair from his thoughts and stepped a few more paces, taking a seat on a discarded crate that sat at the curb. He pushed his sunglasses further onto his nose, took a water bottle from its position on his belt and took a short drink, swishing the water around lightly in his mouth. He swallowed and was suddenly aware that he had left his only cigarette lying in the dirt outside the settlement.

Luca stopped inside the ruins of an old apartment building. A large pile of rubble allowed access to the second floor. Under the shade of the ceiling and walls, Luca removed his mask and took a deep breath, letting the wind hit his face. It felt good to breathe again. His set his duffel bag and assault rifle on the floor. Slowly unzipping the bag, he searched through the stolen contents.

-a bottle of whiskey

-4 bottles of Nuka-Cola

-30 bottle caps

-a snow globe depicting a small English village

-a wrinkled pad of paper

-3 packs of cigarettes

-2 decks of cards

-a copy of “Dean’s Electronics”

The heist went fantastic. These goods would sell for loads of food, water, and supplies. Removing his gloves, he placed them in the bag with his mask and closed it. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he slid down the heap of rubble and used his momentum to jog down the street. Slowing down to a walking motion, Luca made a right turn down the next street, making his way to a large bar in Bellevue called “The Last Man Standing”.

One of Luca’s best friends, Joe Nakata, who was also of Gypsy descent, was the bartender at The Last Man Standing. Luca would never dare to rob this bar. Not only because his ally worked there, but also because most of its regulars were tough and armed gangsters who almost always wielded powerful firearms.

Luca entered the building and approached the bar. Not many people were there today. It was odd. Joe was cleaning a table when Luca entered. “Luca!” Joe said in his deep voice as he approached his friend, shaking his hand and patting him on the back.

“How ya doin’, Joe?” Luca asked, throwing his duffel bag onto the bar.

“Not bad, not bad!” Joe replied. “What’s this? Another heist?”

Luca nodded. “The Flying Fin.” he said as he sat at the bar.

“Oh boy! Can’t say I feel bad for those rotten b*stards. They all think they own this damn neighborhood just because they’ve done some traveling and wield knives!”

“You said it.” Luca pulled a bottle of whiskey out of the bag and opened it, taking a small sip. The whiskey itself was very strong…even for him. “The bartender was the only guy there with a gun. I took him out, and the whole damn place fell to the floor. They all think they’re hard-a**es until someone puts a bullet in one of their heads. Then each and every one of them begs for mercy.”

“Jesus…” Joe pulled out a beer from under the bar and cracked it open with Luca. “So have you found yourself a girl yet? Someone to aid you in these valiant robberies?”

After a short pause, Luca sighed. “No…I haven’t. You know, Joe…Sometimes I think I’m getting’ too old for this s**t.”

Joe laughed. “You kiddin’ me!? You’re f***in’ twenty-five years old! You’re at your prime! Don’t act like such an old fart, Luca!”

“Exactly, Joe! I’m at my prime! And look at me! I find myself robbin’ all these specifically selected joints, comin’ back here with the goods, and drowning myself in a hundred bottles of booze in preparation to do it all over again. I’ve got a life to live! Things to see! People to meet!” Luca took another swig from his bottle of whiskey.

Joe shook his head. “I dunno what you smoked, but I certainly don’t like the affects it’s having on you.”

“I’m headin’ out to Chead, Joe.” Luca stated firmly and he slammed the whiskey bottle down on the bar.

“What the f*** are you talkin’ about, Luca!? What’d you wake up this morning and say ‘Hey, I’m movin’ to Chead’!? What the hell’s the matter with you!?”

“Listen to me, Joe.” Luca pulled out his XL70E3 assault rifle, Steyr Tactical Machine Pistol, combat knife, and two extra masks and placed them in his duffel bag, sealing it shut. “I want you to smuggle this bag - along with everything inside it - into Chead.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“I know you can do it, Joe. I saw you smuggle an AK-47 to one of your buddies out there, and it worked just fine. I don’t care how you do it. I just want it done.”

“Alright, listen.” Joe leaned forward towards Luca so that nobody else in the bar could hear him. “I’ve got an associate out there who calls himself ‘Pitz’. He’s big on the underground weapons and chemical trade in Chead. When you gain access to the neighborhood, I want you to find him. He’s the one I’ll be sending this duffel bag to. Understand?”

“Yeah…Yeah, sure. I understand.”

“I’ll be sure to visit you some time, Luca.” Joe said with a smile. “We’re still pals.”

“Yeah, of course. And don’t worry about me. The people of Chead won’t expect someone like myself to enter their grounds.”

“So you’re gonna continue with your robberies in Chead?” Joe asked eagerly.

“I suppose so. It’s what I’m good at. It’s how I survive. I’ll send some of the goods to you, Joe. Thanks for this.”

“No problem!” Joe replied. “Just stay here for another drink before ya leave!”

Ivan rushed out of the house he was in, not even bothering to close the door. "Now, to quickly check that the turrets got the updated algorithms..." he whispered under his breath, running toward one of the guard towers. Nearby settlers and wanderers watched him and were confused about why he was so scared. He almost ran into the tower, narrowly stopping in time to avoid having his glasses pulverized some more.

Ivan climbed as fast as he could up the tower, not even when the mercenary on the tower pointed a rifle at him. "I'm a scientist, don't shoot me!" he tried to shout, but it came out as little more than a whisper. He expected to be shot as he booted up the turret's control console, but the merc didn't even say anything.

As Ivan messed with the computer, he started to calm down upon realizing that all the turrets were active again and programmed correctly. He then calmly left the tower and started to walk back to his tent.

The mute ghoul nodded silently in agreement. He took the paper and wrote on it again.

He gave the note back to her, and waited for her response.

Matthew continued through the Bellevue. He stared at the Sears tower, and realized he would need allies if he wanted to go in there. It didn't look like anyone in Bellevue would help, so he left, and walked to Chead, arriving an hour later. He smirked when the guards asked for his weapons, silently cursing to himself. When he walked in, he saw a man with a gas mask. Matthew stared at him, hearing the metal gate close behind them. He silently walked over to the group of people.
"I assume you guys are the tough kind, right?"

Caulfield looked at the man, and let out a low hiss. He pointed to his mouth, then shook his head. He then pointed to the woman he was talking to, hoping she would explain. The old ghoul was really getting tired of writing to hold conversations.

"I take it it's a uh, yes then?" Matthew asked, confused by the mans hiss. Matthew was definatetly freaked out by the mans hiss. He had never seen a mute before.

South laughed when she saw the conversation between these two men. "My name's Natalie, but most people call me South," she said to both of them. "I'm a trained operative and spy, and I'm here for that." she pointed at Sears Tower in the distance. "It's not going to be easy getting there. The skyline is not a safe place. But if you two think you're brave, and you're good enough in a fight, then I'll be glad to have you supporting me."

Luca had finished his drink with Joe. They talked for a bit. After this, Luca parted ways with his friend and left The Last Man Standing. It was difficult to separate himself from this bar and neighborhood. He had many good memories here. But the bad memories heavily outweighed the good.

He decided to stick to the shadows on his way to Chead. Bellevue was an extremely dangerous place for an unarmed man. This was a very good choice, as he passed a small group of thugs mugging an old traveller from outside Chicago. They probably would've mugged him too if they saw him.
Luca had seen men and women enter Chead before. The guards seemed to give them a hard time about weapons. This is why he had left his firearms, masks, and stolen goods with Joe. That way, he could get his hands on his goods inside Chead and continue his heists. He wondered what this "Pitz" guy was like and how the people acted in Chead. All of these thoughts kept him busy as he crossed his old neighborhood and approached the gates of Chead with his hands in the air.

"Excuse me!" he said respectfully to the guard at the gate.

The guard turned around. It was a woman. She looked tired and a bit confused. It reminded Luca of how terrible life was for the people in Chicago. He did better than most because he chose to rob shops, bars, and homes instead of hunting for artifacts from before the Great War. "What do you need?" the guard replied.

"I want to get inside, please."

The guard chuckled. "So does everyone else from Bellevue. What's the matter? Life to difficult for you out there? Think it'll all get better for you if you come over here?"

"No, miss. That's not it at all. I kinda wanna start a new life here. I'm not too proud of the things I've done back in Bellevue. I didn't really like the way I was living. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, sure..." the guard said with a cocked eyebrow.

"May I get inside?" Luca asked eagerly.

"I like you." the guard stated. "You're polite. You show respect. Plus, you're unarmed. That makes it easier for me. Go on. Get in." The guard motioned for the gate to be opened. Luca quickly walked through.

Respect - it was something Joe had tought him about when he'd first arrived in Chicago. "Remember, Luca," Joe said to him. "As long as you show certain people respect, you'll usually get what you want."

The metal gates shut behind him. Luca was finally in Chead. Now, the next step was to find this "Pitz" fellow. Near the gate was the strangest trio Luca had ever seen - a pretty woman, a mute ghoul, and a man who Luca swore he had seen before in Bellevue. He nodded as he passed them. "Good-looking girl." he thought to himself. "But that's not why I'm here! What am I thinking!?" Luca shook his head. "Alright...Joe said I could find this Pitz guy at the fourth shack to the right of the main gate. I guess that's where I'm headed."

Luca slowly approached the fourth shack to the right of the gate. He knocked on the door, stood back, and waited. As he waited, he watched the group near the gate, wondering what they were up to...

Caulfield wrote on a piece of paper, and placed it in Natalie's hand.