New Vegas: Sheason's Story - Chapter 143: Rooftop Rumble

“And you’re absolutely sure?” I asked from my spot on the couch. Yes Man’s face on the giant monitor loomed over us with an unmoving smile, as several images flickered with static on the smaller monitors surrounding it.

“Positive!” Yes Man said, his voice just as chipper as ever. “There is absolutely no indication that the ZAX mainframe within Big Mountain has made any attempt to break into any of my systems.”

“But what about that message we saw?” I asked, scratching my head. “What the fuck was that, then?”

“Oh, that? That was me!” Yes Man replied. “She sent that message before you arrived, and very kindly asked me if I could play it. No malicious software, no viruses, no Trojans of any kind, just a simple video file piggy-backing off the directional laser transmission, beamed directly at the Lucky 38 tower from a satellite! In space!” He paused, as if thinking. “She seemed rather pleasant when I talked to her!”

“… what.”

I stared up at the screen, with a feeling like my head had been suddenly crammed full of steel wool.

“C’mon, Shea,” Cass nudged me, grabbing another handful of popcorn. “I think yer worryin’ fer nothin’. S’like y’said before: she jus’ wanted y’gone. Y’ask me, she jus’ wants t’be left alone.” As she munched away, Cass offered me the bowl of popcorn; there wasn’t much left, so I decided to snag a couple before they were all completely gone.

“Maybe…” I popped the stale kernels in my mouth and got off the couch, pointing at Yes Man’s screen. “Either way, keep your eyes on her. Step up your security protocols. If you get even the slightest hint that she’s gonna try and take over –”

“Don’t worry about a thing!” Yes Man said, cutting me off. “I’m very good with this sort of defense! If she tries anything funny, I’ll use my extensive cyberwarfare suite to flood her data storage systems with as much junk data as I can!”

“What kinda junk data?” Cass asked, munching on another handful of popcorn. “I mean… do I even wanna know?”

“Pornography, for the most part!” Yes Man said happily. “I got it from Jeeves, who got it from Doctor Dala! She calls it ‘formography,’ but it’s definitely porn! About seven zettabytes worth – and that’s a lot, let me tell you!” I sighed and started walking away, before things got any stranger. Of course, as I walked away, I heard this little gem from Cass:

“Think I can take a look?”

“I am dreadfully, truly sorry, sir,” Jeeves’ voice buzzed through a speaker above me as I made my way back up the stairs. “The archives mentioning the obstacles beneath the facility made no mention of any hostile, malevolent ZAX mainframes. Had I known ahead of time that sir would find…” Jeeves’ cleared his throat, obviously a bit shaken. “…her within Z-43, I would never have suggested such a treacherous course of action! I would’ve recommended that sir venture to the Z-38 lightwave dynamics research facility, instead.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, shaking my head. “You didn’t know, and I’m fine.”

“We’re fine,” Sue corrected.

“Indeed. Truth be told, M’colleague and I always believed her to be merely a work of fiction.”

“I know, right?” Sue said with a laugh. “She’s the sort of scary story scientists tell constructs at night when they’re still subroutines!” As the two personality constructs laughed, Emily started walking over to me, coffee cup in hand.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” she said, taking a sip. “You had us all really worried for a while.” She paused. “Well, alright. I was worried. Everyone else just seemed to be enjoying the show.”

“Thanks,” I said, nervously scratching the back of my head. “I appreciate the concern.” She nodded, taking another sip.

“So, how’d you like to hear some good news for a change?”

“You really have to ask?” I chuckled grimly. “Yeah, I could definitely use some good news. What’s going on?”

“You know all those radios you collected?” Emily led me over to the workstation with all the monitors and the scattered notes; a line of radios were set up on a nearby table, wired into the whole setup. “Well, they seem to be paying off.”

“How do you mean?” I asked. “I didn’t think they were set to any specific frequency.”

“There aren’t that many frequencies these kinds of radios can be tuned to. I’ve had Yes Man scanning them, and it worked. While you were off pretending to be a lab rat, he found something that I think you’re going to want to hear.” She leaned over the keyboard, input a few commands, and suddenly the terminal started playing a recording.

“You’re sure?” I heard a gruff voice. It sounded a little familiar…

“The Boss is not happy,” another voice said, just growly. “Too many people are fuckin’ with us. We’ve gotta fix this before he decides to fix it for us.” The voice grunted. “I still can’t believe that Courier fuck is real.”

“I didn’t either till he broke my fuckin’ nose!” The first voice practically yelled. “Saul’s hand looks like it got hit with a sledgehammer!” Ah, that explains it.

“I was talking about what he did to the lab, you dumb fuck!” The second voice growled out. “Look, send the word out. There’s a meeting on the top floor of the Cortez tonight.”

“Wait, what? Are you nuts?!” The first guy shouted. “That place is like, 20 feet from The King!”

“We’ve got a deal worked out with the owner, and he’ll sneak us in. It’s the last place the King will look, and we know the place is clean. Besides… it wasn’t my idea. I’m just passin’ the word down. Get it done.” Emily tapped on the keyboard, and the recording cut out.

“What do you think?” she asked, taking another sip of coffee.

“Sounds promising,” I nodded. “They’re starting to run scared… but that means they’re bound to go to ground if I push too hard.”

“So, what are we going to do?” Emily finished off her coffee. I tapped my chin, thinking.

“The Boss…” I said aloud. “If I bust up the meeting, I might kill a few of the lieutenants. But all that will accomplish is another dead end. This Boss they keep talking about is the one who’s really in charge. If I can find him, then I can do some serious damage.”

“Planning on showing Macbeth’s army his head, Macduff?” Emily asked with a smirk.

“Something like that,” I shrugged, looking around. “Where are those other listening devices I brought back from the Big Empty the other day?”

“Oh, they’re over here. I put them in a box,” Emily walked over to the nearby bookcase, and grabbed the box of electronic devices. “What are you gonna do? Plant more GPS trackers?”

“No…” I started sifting through the box after she handed it to me, and pulled out an earpiece with a few long antennae sticking out of the top. “Microphones.”

You know, it’s kind of funny. I suppose, if most people spent the morning dealing with a power mad, completely psychotic artificial intelligence – and they survived to tell the tale – they might be expected to kick back and take it easy for a while. I know for a fact that a part of my brain was yelling at me to take the afternoon off, and that part definitely had a suspiciously British accent. But most people aren’t me, and I had too much work to do.

The easy part was the bit of tinkering I had to do before preparing the ground at the El Cortez. Of all the various listening devices and spy gear I’d collected, Jeeves’ had pointed out a specific piece of tech that might be particularly useful: an ‘ambient auditory directional microphone.’ Essentially: it was a very sensitive antenna, with some software that could filter out most ambient noise, leaving only human speech. All I had to do was look at someone while wearing it, and it wouldn’t matter if they were five feet away or five hundred, and I could hear them talking plain as day.

Of course, once I’d finished wiring it into my helmet, Arcade decided that would be a good time to make fun.

“You’re really taking this whole Batman thing seriously, aren’t you?” he said, pretending to hold back a laugh for a few seconds.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” I grumbled, turning my helmet over in my hands. “I already told you, the only way the antennae will work is if they –”

“I know, I know,” Arcade shook his head, and just kept laughing. “But c’mon… you’re giving your helmet pointy ears! You’re not even trying to hide it anymore!”

“Well, what can I say,” I shrugged, snapped the last piece into place, and flipped the helmet around; the lenses lit up, and bathed my face in blue. “I am the night.”

Once Arcade had finished laughing at me (and everyone else had a poke as well…), I made a hasty retreat with all my gear, and ventured into Freeside for the hard part. Of course, I say ‘hard’ part. That’s probably the wrong word. ‘Boring’ is probably a better one.

Usually, I don’t get a golden chance like this. Most of the time, I’m flying by the seat of my pants, and I don’t get the time to prepare the ground. With Sue’s help keeping me invisible, and a bag full of microphones, cameras, and listening devices, it was almost too easy bugging the entire top floor of that hotel. It didn’t even take too long, which was surprising considering how thick with bugs I packed every single room. I didn’t know exactly where they were going to meet, but I figured… no kill like overkill, right?

The truly boring part came when I was done. Once I’d wired up the entire floor, I set up shop on a rooftop across the street… and began to play the waiting game. I knew nobody was going to find me, since Sue was still keeping me invisible, and would continue to do so indefinitely. So I passed the time keeping an eye on the street below, and testing out the new attachment on my helmet.

Surveillance is one of those things that I know is necessary, but I still don’t like it. It’s just a lot of sitting around. Waiting.

I hate waiting.

“Sheason,” Emily’s voice buzzed in my ear. “Look alive, I think your boyfriends just showed up.”

“Finally,” I stretched out, and looked around; it had gone dark hours ago. “About fuckin’ time. Can you patch me in?” I leaned against the edge of the rooftop, and cycled a dial on the side of my helmet; the image zoomed in, like I was looking through binoculars.

“As soon as someone talks, you’ll be the first to hear,” Emily said.

“Not likely to miss anything with those ears!” I heard Cass’ muffled voice from somewhere in the background. I sighed. They’re not gonna let that go, are they?

There was a click in my ear, and suddenly I heard a few different sounds. A door opening, the shuffling of feet, and it seemed to match with a few flickering shadows I saw in the window of a corner room.

“Is this seriously everyone?” I heard someone say.

“Well… yeah. What the fuck else did you expect?” said another. “First the Arms gets looted, then the Lab goes up in flames? That Courier took them apart like… like… like nothing!” He seemed to be having a hard time coming up with a simile, before just giving up completely.

“All we found of Walter was his fuckin’ head,” said a third. “Whoever isn’t dead is scared shitless. It’s just one guy, but he’s taken out, like, thirty plus and hasn’t taken a scratch. Dude’s a fuckin’ monster!”

“Fuck,” the first guy hissed. “Alright, look. I’ll just get right down to it: the Boss knows.” A simultaneous roar of disapproval erupted from several mouths in the room. “About all of this. I talked to him earlier, and he wants us to move up the schedule.”

“Are you fuckin’ out of your mind!?” one of them practically screamed.

“Dude, that’s a fuckin’ death wish!” yelled another in protest. “We need to lay low! I mean… we have been makin’ a lot of noise recently. Maybe that’s what brought this Courier fuck down on us in the first place… and now the Boss wants us to go louder?”

“It’s not just the Courier he’s concerned about,” the first guy said. “The way I hear it, the King’s boys got all the guns stolen from the Arms, and he’s gonna make his move soon. And then there’s that Ghost Vaquero. He’s mostly just been hitting the small timers, but he’s been working his way up the food chain, and fast. Not to mention the meat farm that got torched the other day…”

“Meat farm?” I asked aloud. That was new. “I didn’t hit anything called a meat farm, did I?”

“I don’t think so,” Emily said, and I suddenly heard furious typing on the keyboard. “I’ll look into it.”

“The Boss is giving us one chance to fix this mess,” the first guy continued. “And that means we have to end this. Now.”

“Yeah, but –”

“Look,” a pair of hands slapped down against a table. “Trust me… we’re getting’ off light. If we screw this up, then the Boss is gonna come in and fix it for us. His way.”

“Why don’t we let him?” said a new voice. There was a long pause. “What? If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have gotten the cash for all our new toys – and we wouldn’t have been able to recruit so many new faces for the crew. We’d have never been able to steal those plans from that Vault City fuck, either. He’s the whole reason we’re not just slingin’ dope on 28th Street anymore. So why don’t we let him fix it?”

“Because the guy is fuckin’ nuts,” the first guy said forcefully. “You assholes ain’t seen him in action. He’s… he’s a motherfuckin’ lunatic. The whole reason we agreed to work for him was so’s we could own this city, right? But if he comes in to fix it his way? There won’t be enough of a city left for us to run! I’m all for a little fun, slittin’ throats and torchin’ shops every once in a while… but him? He’ll burn this place to cinders if a local so much as looks at him funny.”

There was a very long silence.

“Still…” one of them spoke up. “There’s a reason he’s the Boss.”

“Yeah. He’s got the cash, and he scares the fuck outta me.”

“Alright. So. What do we do?”

“We’ve gotta –” the first guy began, but he was very suddenly and unexpectedly cut off by the sound of a door slamming open. “What the –” There was a very loud burst of feedback in my ears, and then it was like every noise was happening at once.

“What the fuck?” I said aloud, trying to get a look at the window; I was hearing the sounds of a struggle, and some very strange shadows were appearing in the window…

“Oh my God…” Emily breathed out, her transmission overriding the other sounds momentarily.

“Em, talk to me, what’s going on?” One of the windows darkened very suddenly, and even from this distance I could tell: that was a large splash of blood.

“Shea!” Cass’ voice suddenly appeared, like she grabbed hold of the mic. “She’s back! The assassin from Red Rock! She’s tearing them apart!”

And just like that, the bottom fell out of my gut.

“Cass, get everyone geared up!” I said as calm as I could manage, decloaking and pulling out the grapnel gun. “I think I’m gonna need some backup on this one…”

“But –” I didn’t hear if she said anything else, because one of the windows exploded outward, followed swiftly by a body tumbling through the air.

“Just do it!” I shouted.

PKCHOONT!

This is a bad plan. Mostly because I had no plan. Every time I’ve tried to fight her, I’ve gotten my ass kicked, so what did I hope to accomplish now? I don’t know. But I couldn’t let all my hard work go to waste, and I might not get another chance like this to take her down.

I sailed through the air, and crashed fist-first through one of the windows in a shower of broken glass. By the time I rolled back onto my feet, I was met with an image of utter carnage and devastation. There were five dead bodies strewn across the room, surrounded by pieces of broken furniture and the busted door. In the center of it all was the black-clad figure, staring at me with those angry, yellow eyes.

I kicked off the ground and reared back with my cybernetic fist; she kicked up a nearby broken table half and shoved it in my face. It knocked me off balance, and sent me spinning, hurtling to the ground. My armor and helmet took the brunt of it, and I got up as fast as I could, but by the time I’d pulled out Roscoe and drew a bead on her, she was already diving out of the broken window.

“Oh, no you don’t!” I yelled, getting back on my feet. In a single motion I holstered Roscoe, leapt out of the open window, and pulled out the grapnel gun. She was already on the roof of the casino below me, and running for the building across the street. I switched my eyes to thermal, in case she decided to go invisible again, and took aim.

PKCHOONT!

She jumped the gap between buildings – a good twenty feet, easily – and landed with a roll almost soundlessly on the other side. She got up and started to run, but didn’t get far because that was around the time the grapnel pulled me in and gave me enough momentum to land a solid punch square in the back of her head. She tumbled forward, smashing face-first against the roof and sliding a few feet before pushing off with her hands and flipping back on her feet.

For a few seconds, neither of us did anything. We just stood there on that roof, staring at each other. Sizing each other up. Waiting for the other one to make the first move…

I hate waiting.

I slipped into VATS, shrugging the Jury Rigger into my hands; she turned on her heel and bolted. She was fast – too fast for me to hit, even with VATS. Streaks of blue lasers cut through the air, each just a bit too short. It was like she was dodging with every pull of the trigger. So I just cursed under my breath and took off after her.

“Not gonna get away this time,” I grunted through gritted teeth. She was jumping and diving over all the various obstacles, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, and I was having a damn hard time just keeping up with her. If I didn’t have the grapnel gun, it would’ve been impossible.

PKCHOONT! PKCHOONT! PKCHOONT! PKCHOONT!

I had no idea where we were. Still in Freeside, obviously, but we were going so fast, it was so dark, and the rooftops of Freeside looked so drastically different, that we might as well have been on the surface of the Moon for all I knew. I had to get her to stop somehow. I had to get in close… disable her; keep her from running, so I might finally get some answers…

PKCHOONT!

The grapnel hooked into the side of a large metal A/C box, about ten feet ahead of her while I was right behind. I didn’t immediately pull myself in, though. I wrapped the cable around my cybernetic arm, grabbed hold of it, and yanked back as hard as I could. The metal box was ripped free of its housing and flew back – right into her face. She flew backward. Right into me.

“Too slow!” I growled, wrapping my cybernetic arm around her neck in a headlock. It didn’t last long, because she slammed her helmet back into mine. It stunned me just long enough, and I lost my grip; she reached back, grabbed hold of me and pulled me over her shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes. She slammed my back against the roof, and it knocked the wind out of me… but I had enough sense to roll out of the way.

CRUNCH!

She slammed a fist into the spot where I’d been, sending shards of splintered concrete flying. I swung my arm around and grabbed hold of her by the ankle, yanking and pulling her down. Her head slammed into the roof, hard. I pushed up, and grabbed her helmet, slamming it into the roof again for a second time. But she didn’t even seem phased; before I could land a good punch, she deflected my metal fist into the roof next to her, and wrapped her own arm around mine, locking it in place.

“Sonuva…” is all I managed to say before she wrapped her calves around my head and twisted me around, sending me spinning. She tried to toss me away, but I managed to keep hold of her. That was enough to send both of us crashing into another A/C box.

“Augh!” I yelled, pushing against the metal, and trying to plant my feet; I found traction, and realized that I was the right way up. I couldn’t let up – not when I was this close. I tried hitting her with a cross, but again she managed to deflect, grabbing hold of my arm; she tried to respond in kind, but I ducked out of the way, and grabbed her by the wrist. Just to be safe, I slammed a boot down on top of one of her feet, to try and keep her from kicking me.

The two of us struggled against each other for a few seconds; I was trying to keep her pinned against the metal box, but because both of us had hold of each others arms, neither of us could really do anything without leaving an opening for the other one.

“Just give up already,” I hissed at her through gritted teeth. She kept struggling against my grip, but I didn’t let up, and I wasn’t planning on letting go.

That is… until she opened her mouth.

“Shea,” she said softly, her synthesized voice catching me off guard. “Just let it go. You can’t win this.” Those words caused me to stare at her with wide eyes and a slackened jaw.

Have you ever worked on a jigsaw puzzle? You know how when you work on it and you start putting pieces together, you’ll end up with a few disconnected clusters? A few pieces that fit here, a few that fit there, but it’s not until you find something like an edge or a corner piece, and you start to really figure out how the whole picture fits together that you start making headway. And then you can’t help but smack yourself, because you feel like a complete dunce. How did you not figure out how everything fit together earlier? It seems so obvious now, doesn’t it?

That particular corner piece wound up hitting me like a truck.

I vaguely recall hearing myself whisper out the name “… Tuera?” but I don’t actually recall saying it.

What I definitely remember is losing my grip, and feeling her kick me square in the chest. I sailed through the air, feeling completely numb. Something crashed around me. Was it glass? Wood? Concrete? I don’t know. I slammed into something, but it didn’t… my whole world was spinning. Literally, figuratively, whatever. I was too stunned to really appreciate how much pain I was about to experience.

And then everything went black.

“C’mon, Shea,” Tuera smiled sweetly at me, batting her eyelashes. “Just let it go. You know you can’t win.”

“Maybe,” I rubbed my chin and surveyed the board between us, as if I was deep in thought. “But I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. I’ll go down swingin’ before I give up.” She chuckled, taking a sip from the wine glass in front of her.

“That’s bound to get you into trouble one day,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Or right now. Whichever comes first.”

It was just another Thursday night in my apartment. Some soft music was playing over the radio (Ella Fitzgerald, I think), and the whole place was bathed in a soft glow from the dozens of lit candles scattered everywhere. Thursdays were one of those days that both of us hated: over the midpoint, but not close enough to the weekend yet to be satisfying. So, we always tried to do something to make things just a little bit more interesting. I’d cooked us a nice meal – one of my world famous pasta dishes – and Tuera had suggested we play a game after: chess. Strip chess. Drunk strip chess.

Needless to say, I was losing. If we’d been playing strip poker, it’d be a different story, but I could never beat her in chess. She was fully clothed, and I was down to just my boxers and socks.

“There goes your other bishop,” Tuera smiled, plucking the piece off the board and waggling her eyebrows. “You’ll be in checkmate, soon.”

“I’ll be out of clothes long before, I suspect,” I said, reaching down to take my socks off – but before I could, tut-tut-ed and waggled a finger at me.

“Ah-ah-ah,” she looked up at me through the raven bangs falling down in front of her face. “Boxers next.”

“Oh, come on!” I said, trying to keep myself from laughing. “You’re really gonna do that? You’re gonna make me be a naked man in socks? A naked man in socks is impossible to take seriously!”

“I don’t take you seriously now!” she laughed, urging me to get up and turn around. I sighed, but laughed with her. And, let’s be honest… it’s always nice to see her bite her lower lip, no matter the circumstance. “You know, it’s funny… some days I get the feeling you play to lose.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say,” I said, tossing my boxers over my shoulder. “Sometimes it’s more fun to lose. You should give it a shot once in a while.” I put on the best shit-eating grin I could, and put my hands on my hips to push it to the point of maximum absurdity. Within seconds, she was busting up laughing.

“I love you, Shea. You are such a goofball.”

“Sheason!” a muffled voice cut through the darkness. I tried to move, but something heavy was weighing down on me. I was in pain all over, like I’d been run over by a truck, and at first I wasn’t entirely certain why.

“Shea! Where are ya?” the voice called again. It felt like a pair of cotton balls had been shoved in my ears. I tried to move again, and felt something shift above me. Was I buried under rubble? Why was I buried under rubble?

“Over here…” I managed to cough out, followed by a whole lot more coughing. The next thing I knew, some debris was being pulled away and I saw a figure in Riot Gear standing over me. That was Cass, definitely. Her head appeared to be surrounded by a halo of light, and I wasn’t sure why.

“Oh, thank fuck you’re alright!” Cass said, pushing away more of the rubble, and offering me her hand. “C’mon, get up, we’ve got to go. Boone’s covering the street.” I grabbed her by the arm, and she pulled me up and free of the rubble. A serious pressure was lifted from my side, and I suddenly realized that the Jury Rigger had been digging into a gap in my armor. She clapped me by the shoulder, and turned. “V! Arcade! I found him, c’mon lets go!”

“What happened?” I grunted, trying to force down the coughing fit and holding onto Cass for support; that numbing fog from before was starting to lift, and my leg was really hurting now.

“She tossed you through a fuckin’ skylight, man,” Cass said, helping me. I looked up, and realized the broken skylight had been giving her that halo earlier. “We got here as fast as we could, but by the time we showed up, she was long gone.”

“She’ll show up again…” I grunted.

“What’d you say?” Cass asked. I shook my head, and the two of us kept walking for the door.

“Nevermind.”

“Well, look on the bright side,” she said; I looked up at her, not sure what the bright side was here. “At least we can’t make fun of your Batman ears anymore.” I reached up and patted the side of my helmet, and cursed under my breath when I realized one of the antennae had snapped off in the crash.

“So…” Emily dabbed at the scrape on my forehead, while I repositioned the ice pack on my shoulder. “What’s the plan now?”

“I dunno…” I winced involuntarily as she dabbed the cut with something that seriously stung. “On the one hand, our best leads for finding this Boss have all been butchered, which puts us right back to square one.”

“But it sounds like the Boss is going to come to town anyway,” Emily said, failing to conceal her worry. I was right there with her.

“And that could be worse. A lot worse. I’ve gotta find him, and fast…” I shook my head. “I’m not going to let him destroy Freeside.”

“I know you won’t,” Emily got up, and moved back to the table where she was keeping all the medical supplies. “So… um…” She cleared her throat. “Who’s Tuera?”

I grit my teeth.

“You heard that, huh?” I asked, looking up. She nodded.

“Yeah. Nobody else did, though. They were too busy rushing to grab all their gear, and I was the only one available still listening.”

“Well… don’t worry about it,” I grunted. “She’s not important.” Emily didn’t look convinced.

“She sounded pretty imp –”

“I was wrong,” I said quickly. “It… she can’t be… I was mistaken. I’m just…” I sighed. “I’m seeing ghosts. That’s all.”