Vol. III Chapter 49 The Subtle Trap
Chapter 49 The Subtle Trap
Sara hadn't seen the sun in days. Her role as commander of the outpost kept her underground. She went from tedious briefing to dull meeting, and back to her father's office. Every time she came through the door, the paperwork on the desk doubled.
By the time she finished that, Sara tried to sleep for a few hours. Opting for the couch in the adjacent room to get a jump the next day.
Loneliness had begun to follow her. Beyond the nature of command. Jen and Val were busy, her team had disbanded. When she felt like complaining, she thought of John. How she'd treated him, on orders from her father. That made things seem fairer somehow. Not that everything hadn't worked out for John. The wedding had been the most fun she'd had in years.
"Excalibur outpost, this is Cobra. How copy?" The radio crackled, pulling her from the paperwork.
"Cobra, Excalibur Actual." It still felt odd to call herself that. "Send it."
"Code Victor." Cobra's report brought relief and dread in equal measure. Her uncle had given the coordinates for the fabled Vault X weeks ago. She'd cast a wide net to avoid suspicion. Now they'd found it.
"Solid copy Cobra. Tempest inbound."
The low winter sun hurt her eyes as she stepped outside. Sara found Val already in the cockpit, engines warming and rotors spinning. Jen appeared from one of the hangars, geared up and ready. Head Scribe Collins on her heels.
"I have senior scribes better suited for a code Victor." Collins tried to replace Sara's choice. She wanted to tell him to fuck off, but knew better.
"Have any of them spent time in an unsecured Vault?" Sara knew the answer. So did Collins.
"They have a wealth of research behind them." Collins sounded like that actually mattered.
"I need real world experience. Prep a team and I'll send for them when I'm ready." Sara pulled Jen in, signalling Val to dust off.
Sara sat in the open cabin, feeling the wind rushing over her. This would be the first step in getting back home. Although the appeal of returning to her own command had dimmed. More and more she thought about her uncle. Operating outside the lines, nimble and effective. It made more sense with each passing day
They passed the dark and menacing City, following the river south to the vast forest to the west of the Tower. They could have spent a lifetime searching such a wide area and still not found it. Cobra emerged from the treeline, guiding them down into a clearing. "Designate this as LZ one." Sara put a hand on Val's shoulder as she got out.
"Solid copy Boss. Good hunting." Val waited till they got clear and took off, flying out in a different direction.
"We got a six klick hike Boss." Cobra started leading them through the forest. Back to his team and their find.
"So what did you find?" Jen asked, eager as ever.
"Probably easier to show you." Cobra rubbed his hand over his closely cropped hair. "Unless you want a briefing now Boss?"
"No, lead on." Sara wanted to enjoy her time outside for as long as she could.
The walk through the forest in the bracing cold relaxed her. Helped clear her mind of endless reports that said the same thing. The trees become tall and broad. Green leaves still thriving long after the common red ones had fallen away. Sara soon realised she'd never seen a forest with leaves in the dead of winter.
They arrived at the camp. Two suits of power armour on watch. The rest of Cobra's team resting, an excitement buzzing between them. Sara envied them, knowing she shouldn't.
"Boss." Python saw her and he got everyone up. Two of them still chewing food.
"As you were." Sara hated how much the atmosphere changed. She reached for a tin mug.
"I got it Boss." Banshee grabbed the coffee pot and poured her a cup. She meant well, but it grated on Sara's nerves.
"Thank you." Sara took the mug and stood over the drawing in the dirt.
"We found some old ruins, started poking around." Cobra briefed her. "We found a tunnel underneath, door at the far end."
"But…" Sara knew there had to be a problem.
"Tunnel's rammed with Filth." Cobra looked to Python, who took over.
"I got concerns. First, if we roll in heavy they could overwhelm us. Second, we start shooting down there with those curved walls and whatever that door's made of. No telling where those bullets end up."
"How did they get into the tunnel?" Sara asked, pacing as she thought.
"Unclear. Looks like it might have been part of a larger network at some point. My guess is they've been down there fifty, sixty years." Python had twenty years experience, his concerns were warranted.
"I need to see." Sara had an idea.
A short walk brought them to the ruins. Little more than concrete shells swallowed by the trees. Cobra headed to a corner, Sara heard a noise she knew. The shuffling, groaning sounds of the twice dead.
A narrow set of rusted metal stairs led down. Too weak for the heavy armour. The groaning noise grew and grew with every step. It made her skin crawl. Cobra pressed himself against the wall, giving her space to reach the corner. She peered round, seeing the shambling mass of irradiated, rotten flesh.
The fresh air tasted all the better as they got back topside. Everyone stood again as they returned to camp. "Three teams, I want a grid search. Anything close to a passable lz, and any other possible entrances. Doubt we'll get lucky twice, but it's worth a look. I'll get backup out here." Sara saw the glances go round the team. "Relax, it's your find."
"Heard the reward for x-ray was five large and two weeks off." Banshee, the youngest member of the team, couldn't contain her excitement.
"Don't believe everything you hear." Sara always disliked the rumour mill. "But I tell you what, if this is x-ray, I'll see about getting you the two weeks." She knew full well this was the long sought Vault.
A few hours of searching came to nothing. Whatever once lay out here, nature had reclaimed it. Sara heard the whirring stomp echo through the forest. She stood and turned, smiling at the sight of her own armour walking towards her.
"Boss." Phantom dropped the heavy crates and hopped out of the armour. She looked ready to collapse. The weight and uneven terrain far from easy going in a T-60, even for a veteran like Phantom. "Claymores and shotguns. We throwing a party, Boss?"
"Not exactly." Sara took her under armour from the pack and started putting it on.
"Privilege of rank means you can sit this out." Phantom offered her advice. She'd been giving orders when Sara was still shining boots and running messages.
"I know, but if I have to do any more paperwork I'm going to lose my mind." Sara valued someone questioning her judgement. The way her father used to. The way her uncle did for them both.
The rest of Phantom's team arrived moments later. Another suit with more packs and three more knights on foot. Sara gave them a break, making sure everyone ate and had hot coffee.
"Alright listen in." Sara stood, using a long stick to draw in the dirt. "Real simple, myself and three volunteers roll in heavy. Claymores and shotguns at fifty paces. If we get into trouble a second team will provide fire with smgs. Claymores in case of. Questions?" She watched for the expressions, shrugs and nods all round. "Gear up, roll in five."
Sara led her four man team. Phantom and her second Chimera volunteered instantly. Cobra volunteered Banshee, keen to get her more experience. She wouldn't have been Sara's choice, but knew better than to contradict a senior officer publicly.
Sara stopped above the rusted staircase, turned and stepped backwards. The metal stairs crumpled like an old beer can. Sara stomped into the tunnel, the swarm hissing and seething. "Lights." She gave the order and each knight blasted xenon bright light into the tunnel for the first time in decades. The shambling wretches recoiled, clutching at their dead, black eyes. It didn't last.
Enraged by the intrusion, the swarm lurched forward like one giant beast. Sara drew the cut down combat shotgun from her thigh and fired. As did the others. Buckshot filled the tunnel. Ripping flesh and ricocheting like excited atoms.
The first line of the swarm turned to chewed up pulp. Limbs, torsos, and slick black blood slowed the advance. The second line fell as the third clambered over them. Sara felt herself stepping back with the team as they each loaded the final mag. She knew there wasn't enough ammo, and brought her hand to her sword.
The shotgun clicked and Sara lunged into an arcing strike. The honed carbon edge cut down three, then they were on her. The sheer mass drove her back. Banshee, screaming like her namesake, brought her halberd down. Splitting skulls with the bladed head. The metal bar glancing off Sara's chest plate. She took full advantage of the gap, making more space with a body splitting kick.
Sara drove into the dwindling swarm, followed by her knights. Blades cut limbs and heads. Stomping feet crushed bone to gravel. Mechanised hands tore rotten flesh like paper. And before long, the only sound she could hear came from the thumping in her chest.
"Coup de grâce, Boss?" Banshee called out, pinning a one armed wretch to the floor.
"The honour is yours, knight." Sara stepped back. Banshee span her halberd, precisely severing the head and sending it rolling.
The Filth now dead and broken, Sara saw the end of the tunnel. Round and dark, unblemished alloy set in reinforced concrete. The extra locking brace in the centre forming the shape of an X.
She'd seen Vaults before, inside and out. She'd known what waited here. Yet to see it, to hear steel fists bump in celebration, knowing what it meant. It took effort to keep from throwing up in her armour.
Getting out took longer than clearing the tunnel. Even with the well practised routine of knights boosting each other up. Sara stayed at the bottom, folding back the sharp edges of the crushed stairs.
"Alright Jen, come on." Sara reached up as Cobra lowered Jen by hand. Jen perched on Sara's shoulder plate, like she'd just won the big game.
Ink black blood pooled and seeped into the cracked ground. Viscera clung to the walls and dripped from above. "I can smell it through the mask." Jen complained.
"I imagine that's quite unpleasant." Sara couldn't smell anything with her suit pressurised.
"That's close enough." Jen hopped down, wiping the matter away from a terminal with a gloved hand. She connected the pipboy she'd claimed as her own. "Light off, the glare." She tapped the pipboy.
"Yes sir." Sara clicked off her armour's bright light.
Sara watched anxiously as Jen stood motionless, lit with faint green from underneath. "Yes!" Jen half leapt with excitement, almost slipping on the slick floor. "I'm in." She tried to regain some cool.
"That was fast." Sara felt a tinge of panic. She shut it down with the unyielding trust she had in her uncle.
"I transferred the Overseer protocols to my pipboy." Jen looked to make eye contact. "Plus I've been studying a lot. No matter what Collins says. That—"
"Careful." Sara wouldn't let that pass, even if she agreed.
"No." Jen jabbed at the pipboy. "No, no, no." Her disappointment brought Sara relief. It didn't feel good. "Shit Boss. I don't think it'll open. There's no response, no override. Like it's not even connected." Jen looked crushed. Sara took a deep breath, and removed her helmet.
The acrid stench of rotten flesh and cordite hit her harder than the ghouls. She couldn't risk being head over an open comm. "Do you trust me?" She asked.
"With my life." Jen didn't flinch.
"Keep working." Sara had other options, but took a risk on the best one.
"Boss, without the computer this door won't open, ever. Might as well be a wall." Jen didn't get it.
"I didn't ask you to get it open, I asked you to keep working." Sara didn't want to tell Jen more, for her own sake.
"I'll run a cable Boss, see about getting that door open." Jen half shouted, overcompensating but on board.
Sara sat by the fire. Coffee and smoke masking the smell she could still taste. "Boss." Protector Reed arrived. A team of his best with him, escorted by Phantom. She led him to the tunnel, taking the privilege of rank and staying topside.
Reed climbed back out a few minutes later, ear plugs in his nose. He had Sara hold the other end of a tape measure. "Well?" Sara asked as Reed scrawled in his notebook.
"Yeah, we can do it. Need my guys and a few tin cans." Reed shook a can of spray paint, marking the ground.
"A few what?" Sara teased.
"Well we can do it without power armour, it'll take twice as long." Reed prodded back, taking pride in his discipline.
"I want the lz up first." Sara led them back to camp.
Reed marked trees, his team went at them with chainsaws. The shrill engines, cracking wood and thud of felled trees shattered the peaceful forest Sara had enjoyed. Trees that stood for decades cut down and lay flat. It brought her a pang of guilt. Another thing left destroyed in her wake.
As she walked the area, the colour of the wood reminded her of John's house. She'd been impressed with the whole place. "Reed?" She yelled over the noise. He glanced up, holding an ear defender open. "I want to find a use for all this wood."
"Bit big for whittling Boss." Reed joked.
"I can't stand to see it go to waste." Sara ran her hand along the now dead tree, almost apologising.
"Let me think on it." Reed understood. "I'm sure her Ladyship will have an idea or two. Or ten. Muggins here doesn't need sleep." He made a joke at his expense, then got back to cutting down trees.
Sara spent an enjoyable afternoon outside. Knights broke stone to create access to the tunnel. Sara helped Reed and his team lay them into a flat square. The simple, physical labour with a clearly defined goal brought her calm. They finished with daylight to spare. Giving Sara a sunset lit forest to watch as she flew back to the outpost.
She saw Head Scribe Collins pacing as they touched down. His fuming face nearly matching the ornate robes of his station. "Hold that bird!" Collins yelled. "My team has been waiting to deploy." He spoke to her as he did everyone. As though he were in command. Sara kept her expression blank.
"No need. Scribe Groves has the matter well in hand." She didn't raise her voice.
"A single junior scribe?!" Collins ranted, the engines quiet enough that he drew attention from those in the yard. "Get on board, now." He turned his back on Sara, ordering his team. They didn't move.
"Do I come into your library and tell you how to arrange your books?" Sara asked calmly.
"What?!" Collins shot back in a tone far from respectful. Sara cleared her throat.
"The senior officer on base asked you a question, scribe." Sara barked. Head scribe was a title of respect, not a link in the chain that binds. "Do I come into your library and tell you how to arrange your books?" She asked again, stepping closer.
"No." Collins answered, cowed by her tone. She leant in, holding a finger to her ear. "No sir."
"Then do not presume to tell me how I deploy assets in the field." Sara snarled, putting him in his place. She heard cheering and clapping from six or so Recon scouts as she walked away. She didn't acknowledge them.
Sara went back to her quarters and took a long shower. She poured herself a stiff drink and checked the time. Sara flicked through a book, looking for a page and line number. She found what she needed.
A few minutes later, the clock hit the bottom of an odd numbered hour. She tuned to the correct frequency on her radio and began to break squelch. Trying to hide the numbers in seemingly random noise. At the top of the next even numbered hour, she got her response.
Sara found the corresponding page and line in the book she and her uncle shared. 'The subtle trap, the clever forecast of coming events, the triumphant vindication of bold theories'. She hoped her uncle was half as smart as the old world detective.