@Searat @Cuddles 1438

Bailey listens to Monika and Emil's conversation, She glances to her open backpack sitting next to her on the bench. She can see the top of her short range radio poking up from under her GP-5 Gas Mask. She thinks to herself that she should probably head up top and report the presence of Brotherhood on the mission.

"If Pariah doesn't show soon im gonna go up top for some air... Maybe stretch my legs a bit..."

Bailey gently picks up her GP-5 and looks over it carefully, It's not ideal but it's served her well in the past. The old soviet gas mask is faded and its filter canister is dented where she's been wearing it in confined spaces.

@Cuddles 1438 @HamakazeKai

Emil nods with understanding. He has had his fair share of scars, both physically and mental, from...those 8 years. Emil could feel some of the repressed memories trickle into his mind but is quick to remove it out of thought. He was not ready, nor did he want to, to confront such memories, what more keep in his mind. "There's no need for apologies, ma'm. Showing what little emotions we have left helps us remember that we're still human. We're still alive. "

Monika was gracious enough to show him a picture of her loved one, it would be only fair if he showed her his loved ones. He raises his index finger up as if to say 'wait a second' as he leans down to scrounge about his pack's pocket to retrieve a well worn and browned picture. He shows Monika the picture. It depicts a family standing before a small brahmin paddock. An older man and woman standing behind three young boys, smiling widely at their children as the oldest and tallest of the boys head locked the younger one with one arm while using the other to keep the smallest boy on his shoulders stable. "This is my family." The statement caused his heart to wrench slightly. "That's my ma and pa. The kid sitting on the shoulders is me and the one carrying me was my oldest brother and the one he was head locking was my older brother too. As you can see, me and my brothers were a bunch of goof balls and jackasses."

He sees Bailey stand up and express the desire to walk around. "Would you like to take a look also before you go for your walk?" He then gestures to the photo in his hand.

@Searat
The look Emil gave her sent a slight shock through her system. It was one of understanding one she had not seen in a long time. While her husband tried his best he would never truly know what she had been through and the best he ever did was comfort her in dark times, so a look like this was refreshing.

"Looks like you had a lovely family. You said Oregon so that rules the Legion out. But I'm guessing by the look you gave you've been a slave too?"

having noticed Bailey had stepped out she stood up and moved to sit on the bench, gesturing for Emil to sit next to her. "They killed my father, sold my mother and took my brother to become one of them. 5 years, 5 long years I suffered as a trophy of the Local Legion leader."

"Now all I've got is these two." she pulled the locket out from her shirt and opened it revealing another picture of her son and Kyle her husband.

@Searat @Cuddles 1438

Bailey looks at the photo and nods, Her eyes glaze over slightly as the picture reminds her once again of her own family. She takes her helmet off and fits the mask over her head before putting the helmet on again. Her voice is rougher and sounds more artificial because of the mask filter.

"Family is important... I hope humanity never forgets that. If we do then all hope is truly lost."

Bailey slings her backpack over her shoulders and nods to Monika and Emil.

"I'll be back in a few minutes... If Pariah shows up gimme a shout."

Bailey heads up out the entrance they came in and up to the surface where she drops her backpack and retrieves her radio. She's got to make a call.

Marvin took a seat on the empty ammo crate in front of Frankie and then placed his gun on his lap. He tapped his fingers against the cold metal of it. The inevitable question came and Marvin was more than happy to share a portion of his tale to someone - especially such a kind girl such as this medic. Perhaps it was because she was younger than the others, but he found himself willing to impart to her his own story without hesitation.

"Well, I'll constrict my tale to a few minutes." Marvin started but then he heard a sigh coming from the private investigator from before who had found himself near them. The ghoul regarded him with a nod, welcoming the male to join them if he wished. It would not hinder Marvin's willingness to tell his story. After all, he was going to get started. And once he started something, it's hard to get him to stop. Everyone could be listening at some point of his story and he wouldn't bat an eye, or stop. He then clapped his hands once.

"Let's answer my age first. Born thirty years after the Great War, I'm around a hundred and ninety. If you've lived as long as that, you stop celebrating birthdays." He said with a light chuckle. He then stopped tapping on his gun. "My family was a caravan. Y'know, we trade and whatever. Place was still a bit irradiated, but hey, we lived. He then stopped. What else could he tell them, to make it really short. There were a lot of happenings in life so he wasn't sure what was important and what was not.

"Ah right." He muttered to himself before continuing. "We were jumped by some desperate scavengers and I managed to escape to the then-being-made Megaton. Was a junkyard when I got there." Ah yes, he wondered how much something could be so different before then now. "Got involved with some Children of Atom. New cult by the way. I became a ghoul out of desperation for food and caps." He admitted with a slow nod. He's stuck between it being the best decision he's made, or the worst. He still isn't sure.

"After that, I just became a wanderer. Then a mercenary. Then I'm here." Might be for the best to not mention anything about him being affiliated with any of the factions. After all, it may change the other's perspective on him. Also probably be for the best not to tell that he actually went on this mission because he was told to by his other boss - a Railroad Agent. Though whether or not she was actually still part of the organization, he wasn't exactly sure. "Got into some nasty fights before, but hey, who hasn't right? Perk of being a ghoul? You can walk straight through a horde of ferals without them even bothering you."

@Dread @Ghost Shadow

No stranger to being observed either on the battlefield or off, Khaliya's sharp eyes returned the analyzing gaze with one of her own. Of course, she maintained eye-contact as she did so, but took in every detail she could from there on the ground with The Mask. She had been quick to notice the cybernetics, and something about the woman told her she was no stranger to them herself, perhaps even having a few of her own. That was something of interest that she quietly filed away for later use in case the need arose, but for now all she offered was that same carefree smile.

"They are a mere setback, namely from a momentary lapse in patriotism. Brotherhood cybernetics may be the best in the wasteland, but they have their faults unlike certain others."

Khaliya didn't go further with the statement, though something about her tone and the way she moved on to the next topic made it seem as if she knew more than she let on. That or she simply didn't like talking about how she came about getting half of her body sleeved in cybernetics.

"Perhaps when we're done with this little adventure we can have a moment to talk about your friend and discover if they're a mutual acquaintance. For now, we are on the same side and I appreciate having someone at my back that knows their way around plasma. You rig that rifle up yourself?"

Now she took a moment to truly indulge herself, both hands on her plasma pistols and bringing them up with a twirl to flourish them. It let Alexis see quite clearly that they were older models and extensively modified, namely to discharge fast and hot in a machine-pistol configuration.

"Brotherhood frowns upon unsanctioned modification of equipment, but when you're a Star-Paladin and you've got plasma heirlooms then there's not much they can really say."

---

For a long moment after Bailey activate the radio a series of cryptographic ciphers clicked on and off, encrypting the channel and only once it chimed a gentle notification of completion did the voice speak.

"Ares 4-1-H. Receiving signal. Noise from nearby radioactive zone interfering with full ciphers, will be brief. Eagle has spread its wings, talons sharp and ready. Presence of treason understood and reported by Sigma P-6-T. Enter into operations area and rendezvous with agent at 40.89 and minus 73.85. For now do not engage treasonous forces and focus on making contact with agent. Silence is to be maintained after confirmation of orders."

@Cuddles 1438 @HamakazeKai

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I'll be sure to give you a shout if the pariah does come." Emil reassures Bailey before she left him with Monika. It was then he heard her speak regarding his family...as well as the fact that she managed to discern his former history as a slave. His whole body visibly tenses up for a moment before noticing that Monika had offered him a seat. He didn't want to be rude and took the seat beside her before keeping the worn photo of his family safe in his pocket. She then tells Emil the rough details regarding her unfortunate situation.

Emil could hear the melancholic tone of her voice and every minute facial expression she had unknowingly displayed. This was a topic that hurt her deeply but she was willing to share it with him. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he lets his hands clasp over one another under his jaw as he took in every detail she offered. She wasn't so different from Emil. Her whole family was taken away from her by inhuman monsters, and had to suffer a fate that made death look like a mercy...the only difference was that she still has a family. He kinda felt a little envious. He looks to her and offers a bitter sweet smile. "They...they look wonderful." He then returns his gaze back to the station before him. This experience of his was always a difficult topic to discuss with others, but Monika was someone who had suffered the same hellish life he had and shared it with him. He owed her his story or at the very least some of it.

With a heavy sigh he begins divulge information he felt she deserved to know. His voice was calm and serene, yet contained an insurmountable amount of anger and regret. "Yes. I...I've been a slave before." The sentence felt disgusting to utter but Emil pushed through and opted to shut his eyes tight. "I was twelve at the time a group of slavers set their eyes on my town." He could remember the screams. "Killed anyone who was useless to or resisted them." He could remember the gunshots. "Ma and Pa were too old and my brothers fought back." Why din't you die with them, Emil? "I was sold and I had to suffer eight grueling years before I had a chance to escape." He could feel the three gunshot wounds on his back sting with a phantom pain. "And...and that's it." Emil sits back to proper posture, he had forced a slight smile on his face as if to say 'I'm fine' but it was devoid of all of the warmth and friendliness. The smile was cold and bitter.

Emil hated remembering these memories. Felix was right to say that he was better off keeping these memories hidden away.

@Searat
Seeing Emil's reaction throughout his tale she remembered her own when Kyle first enquired about her past. She thought to herself that while she had managed to find a partner for herself and a father for Marius after her escape, it looked like Emil hadn't had anyone to open up too in a long time and that the first times are always the most difficult.

Offering Emil a cigarette from the pack in her front pocket. She tries to change the topic to the here and now. "Listen. I understand how hard it can be opening up to strangers. Especially if you've never done it before.

"So" She said clearing her throat. "What do you reckon the Pariah wants us to find in there. because evause it can't just be riches for ourselves?

---

---

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North & @Ghost Shadow

Frankie always loved a good story, which stemmed back to the settlement she’d been essentially born and raised in before the Raiders came to sweep up. Prior to that, those were good times for sure, and the stories she’d grown up hearing -sometimes multiple times- were almost as tall as some of the skyscrapers she’d seen first hand as a kid. The girl still gets a chuckle out of the story of “Ol’ Panhead”, who you first think is the storyteller’s pet or something similar, but it turns out it was actually the name given to them due to the metal plate fused to their their skull which apparently saved them from a shot to the head by a stray arrow. Frankie could remember seeing the alleged arrow, but couldn’t confirm or deny that it was actually it, but the stories -whether true or otherwise- kept her entertained enough to forget about the wasteland all around them. She sat forward atop the milk crate with both arms folded and resting on her knees while intently listening to the ghoul recite some of his past, the girl’s eyes wide with anticipation.

Her focus was so intent, however, that she didn’t even notice the new comer strolling up nearby, apparently making a loud enough sigh that should have been heard, but Frankie had a knack for tuning out the world around her even if for a short while. She legitimately gasped when Marvin mentioned his age, remembering that the irradiated ghouls sometimes had longer lifespans than normal humans, but she didn’t realize it was that long.

Holy shitbombs, you’re old! Was about all her mind had exclaimed at that moment, but thankfully those thoughts didn’t manifest into words from her lips as that would have been rather rude, even though it was very true. But, no doubt the other had heard that -and worse- more times than he would ever admit to anyone.

“Wow...” She finally whispered after hearing his story, and while it may have not been the extended version she hoped for, it was still interesting enough to understand the ghoul a little better, and she liked that. Frankie wasn’t a social butterfly by any stretch of the imagination, nor was she very good at spinning a compelling life story -mainly because she didn’t necessarily like talking about herself- but it was nice to know that through all the rough and tumble that Marvin had gone through all those years, he managed to come out a better person than a lot of others she’d encountered.

“Well, that was pretty damn awesome.” She smiled at the other, rocking slightly back and forth on the crate, causing it to creak as it swayed a bit. “I bet you could write a novel with everything you’ve experienced! I know I’d read it!” At that moment, she hadn’t realized just how loud her voice got, perhaps being a bit overtired mixed with just having a light-hearted conversation for once, but she glanced around for a moment and stopped when she noticed the older man in a worn out trench coat standing nearby.

“Hi.” Frankie half-smiled and nodded toward him, before turning her attention back to Marvin and leaning in to whisper. “How long has he been standing there?” She said, her expression showing a bit of embarrassment.

@Alfhedil @Searat @Cuddles 1438

Bailey nods as she listens to the message and memorises the coordinates, she smiles happily as she recognizes the callsigns and codewords and what they mean.

"Received and Understood, Ares 4-1-H Going Radio silent. Over."

She turns her radio off and puts it back in her backpack, slings her backpack over her right shoulder and heads back into the subway. As she enters she takes her Gas Mask off and shudders slightly at the smell of the damp concrete and steel and pulls the shutter closed behind herself. She walks over to the bench where she was sitting before and nods at Emil and Monika.

"I miss anything?"

Bailey puts her bag down on the bench and shoves her Gas Mask back in and parks herself on the bench again with a sigh.

@Cuddles 1438 @HamakazeKai

Seeing Monika offer him something to help him ease over his nerves and feelings that welled up inside of him. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't smoke." He tells Monika truthfully. Smoking never really appealed to him much at any point in his life. Sure, sharing a smoke with someone could help but it never really had that comforting feeling that alcohol gave him. It also helped that alcohol helps him repress and numb these memories faster. "Heh. Truth be told, you're the second person I have told this. The first being Felix, my mentor." Maybe he could buy a beer or something from the locals? God knows he deserves at least one. He hears her clear her throat and ask about what technological wonders the pariah wanted us to get. "I'm not too sure myself. Though if I were to give a wild guess, I'd think its some sort of weapon that can turn critters as big as Death Claw Alphas into ashes in a trigger pull...well that or ancient tech that could either help or hinder life blooming in the wastes."

He looks to see that Bailey had returned from her walk. "Nothing much. Just throwing around the idea of what tech or thing the pariah wants us to get in Necropolis."

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North @Dread

'Dammit, that was too loud -- stupid, stupid, stupid!' John cursed at himself in his mind, an act only conveyed by the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth that threatened to curve into an even deeper frown. He hadn't been trying to draw attention to himself, let alone in such a dim-witted fashion.

Scratching the back of his neck nonchalantly - or embarrassedly - John brought his other hand to his mouth, making a sound that could only be described as a deep, raspy growl that devolved to a quick series of rough coughs; his lungs' way of rebuking him for smoking that last cigarette.

Recovering from the fit as quickly as it had arrived, John cleared his throat, stepping forward a few more feet, the light now catching his features, the rugged looks that one might have once called handsome. It was his eyes, mostly: hazel-green orbs that seemed to hold so, so much burden in them. They were exhausted, somehow both discerning, yet unable to focus. He still could have passed for good-looking now, maybe after a shower, a cup of black coffee, a shave, and an Addictol or two. But that look in his eyes was all it took to drag his youth down, his spirit with it.

Yet despite how burned out he seemed, his senses were still sharp, sharp enough to hear the young medic's question to the Ghoul. With a small half-smirk - one devoid of any actual mirth - John simply replied, "Not long." His posture seemed looser, more relaxed. He wasn't willing to share it with the two of them, but he found himself drawn into the old Ghoul's tale as well, detective's habit. He'd heard plenty of stories, more than he could hope to remember. Some were more interesting than others, of course, but all were important to whatever case he was working on at the time. Even now, he couldn't not listen. The gears in his head kept spinning, filing, placing a large Non-Suspect stamp over the Ghoul and the girl both. Yet there was still a tick that the Ghoul was leaving details out. An unavoidable casualty when trying to summarize almost two-hundred-years of background, but this seemed almost deliberate. Life as a mercenary, well, there's a lot that would entail, whether for good or ill.

Waiting a few seconds to let his initial reply settle, John finally spoke again, introducing himself: "Delaware. John Delaware." He offered no handshake, no friendly smile, no inquiry to what their own names were in turn. All he gave them was a small bow of his head, as if thinking that was enough. It certainly was for him.

Marvin hadn't stopped smiling when Frankie went on to excitedly comment on his story. It kind of reminds him of a young child being mesmerized by fantasy stories. Unfortunately for him, this was no fantasy story. This was his life story. At least someone enjoyed it. When you look back to it, it certainly was quite a tale and was fun to tell. But during those times, Marvin knew that he felt like it was entirely hopeless and that he would just die right then and there. There was also the time when he had to do something he didn't want to - but had to so he would survive. Staying awake until the next day to make sure nightmares won't haunt him.

"Maybe." Marvin said, but his eyes didn't meet hers or anyone else's. He was looking away. "But that condensed version does not have any of the stories that would make you squirm." He then looked back at her, one finger raised over his lips and gave her a bashful small smile. He let his hand fall onto his side once more but his smile was still there. Why would he tell them - anyone - about the murders he had done or the betrayals that he did? Though he'd never admit it, he even ran away from places not because there was no more work, but because it becomes too overbearing to stay there with memories leaking out of the walls of each area.

When Frankie acknowledged the private investigator, Marvin turned to him as well. "Yeah, he got here when I was beginning to tell my story." He affirmed the man's reply. Then the name came. John Delaware. Didn't ring any bells, but he never really worked well with private investigators. And the man certainly was one. The outfit was a dead giveaway. They get all those details from your past and his hands were too dirty to be at complete ease at opening up. It's one of the reasons why he didn't tell certain stories earlier. And honestly, Marvin didn't doubt that there might be one case or two against him even if he only just tried to exterminate gunners, raiders or the scum of this apocalyptic wasteland. But honestly, he wasn't so sure if those he had killed were on the wrong or right side of morality.

"Marvin. Pleasure to meet you, John." He replied, introducing himself this time to John as that was the norm. They were going to work together after all, and he wanted for them to at least know his name. He would have given them his mercenary name but he thought that might not give them any trust in him - and he was a sniper. He could shoo their back any time he wanted and no one would be none the wiser. So for a sniper to be able to work well with others, or at least put them at ease, they at least needed to trust him somewhat. Or at least, that was ideal.

@Dread @Ghost Shadow

Alexis put on her glove and smirked when Khailya stated that the Brotherhood's implants were the best in the Wasteland. Institute tech was higher grade being directly linked to the Pre-War era and upgrade through time. Almost two hundred years of development made the Institute probably the most advanced faction in Post-War America.

" My friend isn't the kind to...be observed if you know what I mean. I don't think you would know him and even if you did, I couldn't tell you who he is. I was only his handler, never met the guy in person. " said Alexis in a calm voice. She was not about to reveal the name of one of the spies in the Brotherhood which the Institute had infiltrated.

With a nod and a quick motion, Alexis removed Vision from it's strap on her back and presented it to Khaliya. The weapon itself was clean and well oiled and some parts of it looked new, not Pre-War and adapted. Parts that were created in the Institute prior to Alexis's apparent desertion.

" Yep. I had to create from scratch some parts to make it like this, but it's my masterpiece. I took the scope from an old Gauss Rifle I found and upgraded it with thermal vision and a tracking module. Nothing can escape my notice if I get to high ground, usually. " she might've revealed too much when she stated that she created the parts but with some measure of luck Khaliya wouldn't notice or will decided to ignore it.

Looking at Khaliya's plasma pistol, Alexis noticed the heavy modifications that she to them. Old models, made new with the help of technology. They were, frankly, a marvel to look at. Pieces of the life before the war, brought back to life.

" Nice toys. So, I guess, being a big shot means something in the Brotherhood,eh? It isn't like that where I came from. You've got to work if you want to be recognized and even then, there is a chance that your opinion will not be heeded. Between the--" Alexis caught herself before she said synths and quickly changed the subject.

" If you need help with your cybernetic implants, say so. I am experienced in repairing and upgrading them. I had...two good teachers. The world is a darker place without them but they taught me everything they knew. So, after the mission or if you want now, before Pariah comes, I can take a quick look at them. "

---

---

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North & @Ghost Shadow

The girl couldn’t help but snicker at the way the mysterious onlooker introduced himself, as though she’d heard that same line in a movie, where the lead would use his last name, followed by his full name. Dramatic effect perhaps? Although, Frankie had to admit, it did seem a lot more theatrical coming from a man whose voice was rather throaty. She turned her head to meet the other’s gaze and nodded with a smile, but again, hesitant to stick her hand out in a formal greeting. Of course, it wasn’t so bad considering he did the same. It was odd though, as the young medic was never a germaphobe in the least, but how could she be in the medical profession and actually get any work done if she were? No, it wasn’t so much a phobia as it was just a conscious effort not to shakes hands. With anyone.

Before she could respond, however, Marvin spoke up introducing himself to the man, although even he seemed rather suspicious of him, or maybe that’s always how the ghoul appeared. Frankie narrowed her eyes for a moment to focus on her new friend’s face as though she could actually read anything from it anyway, and then quickly darted her eyes back to Mister Delaware.

“Um, I’m Frankie.” She said in a tired tone, which was then followed by an unexpected yawn. Her hand quickly covered her mouth. “Oh my god...I’m so sorry.”

It seemed the last few restless nights were beginning to catch up with her. Nights that were generally filled with too much thought and not enough actual sleep. Nightmarish visions that kept her awake, or sometimes jerked her out of sleep in a cold sweat, only to make it that much harder to fall back into the sleep zone she’d normally be able to find. It wasn’t always like that however, even when she was forced to live amongst the Raiders, she eventually found ways to calm her mind enough to sleep at least a good six hours, because she knew she’d be that much more ineffective if she wasn’t at full capacity. But whatever it was creeping around in her head, had more to do with the tasks coming up than any past endeavours, and her fear was that she may not be able to do the job she was chosen to do.

“I wonder if I’ll have some time to take a nap.” She finally said, looking over at the collection of soldiers.. “Even if for a few minutes…”

@Searat @Cuddles 1438

Bailey looks at Monika and Emil, She carefully measures her response in her head before she opens her mouth.

"Well... Whatever they want they've picked a diverse group to make sure no particular group can dominate and extort them... So it must be important and possibly powerful."

She picks up her AER-9 Laser Rifle and looks it over, It's marked with insignia and flags of the old world but they've been added recently and the rifle is in too good of a condition to have been pre-war.

@HamakazeKai @Cuddles 1438

The young man nods, accepting the answer of Bailey. "True. True." Bailey then takes her laser weapon, an AER-9 model laser rifle and that causes Emil's eyes to widen in relative shock. The gun itself had barely any dents, scratches, nor bits of grime or rust marring its stainless steel case like the other laser rifles Emil had seen in his travels. Hell, its energy capacitor looks brand spanking new. "That's quite the AER-9 you got there, Bailey. Never seen anything like its kind in my years...where'd you get something as good as that?"

@Searat @Cuddles 1438

Bailey gives a cheeky smirk, she glances down at the file marks where the serial number and makers marks that would identify where it came from were.

"Oh... This? It just fell off the back of a truck I guess..."

Bailey checks the power level on the loaded microfusion cell, Checks the safety again and slings the rifle over her right shoulder with the Flag of the United States painted on it's side visible to anyone looking.

@HamakazeKai @Cuddles 1438

"Damn lucky find then you got there. The flag itself is a nice touch too, it gives it an 'old-world' vibe." Bailey was displaying her tools of her trade rather proudly, Emil wasn't about to one upped by her and also wanted show off his weapons. He reaches over for his pack and returns the picture of his family back into the safety of his bag and begins pulling out the parts for his reliable laser RCW, "Cruel Virtue." Emil didn't even need to give any part a second look as he assembled the laser weapon in just under a minute and thirty seconds, showing how familiar he was with his weapon. "This laser RCW is my most relied upon weapon in almost any situation." He then plugs in one full charged Electron Charge Pack to its unique drum magazine like capacitor; bringing the whole gun to life with a quick electronic whine. "Found this little beauty back in California and she's been with me ever since I found her in that fateful ruins." He looks at it and cant help but smile at his almost expert modifications upon the gun. "The scope makes it easier for me to target baddies from a moderate distance and the enhanced capacitor makes sure that every individual laser pulse produced is most efficient in power usage but does not sacrifice any damage. Hell, I'm pretty sure the capacitor modification made her pulses hit harder." Emil ends with a satisfied sigh. "She is, as some would say, the poor man's Gatling laser."

@Searat @Cuddles 1438

Bailey watches Emil expertly assemble his RCW, His familiarity with his weapon is impressive and is at Enclave Army level if not better. She's impressed that a Wastelander can show such expertise with an energy weapon.

"Impressive, It's not often you meet a Wastelander with a knowledge of their weapon like you... Personally I prefer Plasma Rifles & Gatling Lasers but the latter is only practical with a good suit of Power Armour... Maybe a Fatman but ammo for that is hard to come by... And if you use anything like that the Brotherhood starts taking an interest in you, which isn't usually healthy..."

Bailey scowls over at the Brotherhood paladins, She desperately hopes that Pariah will show up soon so she can get the hell out of this subway station and start dropping mutants and carving a path to her rendezvous. She reaches into her backpack and pulls out her hand held Geiger Counter and clips it onto her combat armour chest plate while she remembers. The counter clicks gently indicating a higher than average radiation level but nothing too dangerous... Yet.