FO4 | Book 0: The Diaries of Anarchy ✔️

April 20, 2287

The music was playin' nice and loud today with Magnolia on stage. The Rail was as boisterous and crowded. I could barely hear myself think through all the noise.

It was just the way I like it.

Fahrenheit showed me how to play Caravan — a game she picked up from her time out west. It was simple enough.

"I win again," Fahr said after the fourth round.

I helped her gather up the cards. I admit, I was sulky. "Yeah, yeah. It's just because you know the game better than I do."

"More like it's because you suck at math, especially when you're hammered."

"Shut up."

"Hey," said a voice from a few feet away. I looked up at someone who was approaching our table. "You the mayor?"

The guy had a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder, a green cap on his head, and a duster with one sleeve missin'. Underneath, he wore a long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and brown combat boots. He had a few sniper bullets tucked away in the rim of his hat that reminded me of the way Piper wore a press card in hers.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Heard you were the man to talk to about setting up shop around here."

The guy sounded tough when he said it, but I could see it on his pale face that he was flustered. His cheeks and ears were a little rosy, and his lips formed a thin line.

"Yeah, don't be shy about it. Sit and talk with me. You like cards?"

"Y-Yeah, I like cards."

Fahrenheit scooted over for him to sit across from me at the table. He had a seat and hung his rifle over the back of the chair.

"Whaddya play?"

"Poker."

"Well, well, well. A fellow Poker enthusiast. Fahrenheit, shuffle that deck for me, and we'll play a round."

"I'll shuffle, but you're dealin'. I'm sitting this one out."

"Fine by me."

She expertly shuffled the cards while the newcomer and I talked.

"Ain't seen your mug around here before. You a merc?"

"Yeah. I actually needed to talk to you about that. I want to operate in Goodneighbor."

Fahrenheit and I exchanged looks. "That so? Why Goodneighbor specifically?"

"Diamond City is high security, and I don't wanna deal with them, plain and simple. There's no room for me at Bunker Hill. All the other settlements in the Common' are too small. Goodneighbor's the only place left where I can start a business for myself."

"You know we'd have to tax ya, right?"

"Naturally. I'm willing to haggle."

Fahrenheit handed me the deck. "What's your name?"

"MacCready. Robert Joseph MacCready. Some people back home call me RJ."

"Hmm... I like Mac. So listen here, Mac. I know you're a Gunner."

"What? How did you —?"

"Contrary to physical appearance, I got a nose for these things. The way you carried yourself, the way you handle that rifle — I know you're a professional. And that little rinky-dink bandanna you've got tied to your arm there? Camo is a dead giveaway. So, the question is: why does a Gunner wanna operate in Goodneighbor? You know your crew is the reason a lot o' people wind up dyin' on their way to my city?"

"L-Lemme explain." He chuckled nervously. "I left the Gunners, and I need a job. Preferably something I'm good at. Something I'm comfortable with. I don't run with them anymore, and... they may come after me for it. Goodneighbor is a safe place for me."

"I see. So you wanna make use of our high walls and our neutral political position."

"Yeah..."

"You've got balls to ask for that much, Gunner," said Fahrenheit.

"Look, I'll pay twenty percent of my earnings if that's what it takes, but I won't go any higher. I'd rather take my chances on my own at that point."

I dealt the cards for the both of us. "Let's say we play a game of Poker. If you win, you give me ten percent of your earnings. If I win, I get twenty-five. Sound fair?"

The young merc tossed it around in his head for a while. "Okay, but just so you know, I'm a really good Poker player."

"You better get good at puttin' your foot in your mouth," I retorted.

____________________

"Looks like I win," said Mac, stretching his arms up and behind him with a cocky grin.

"Damn, looks like ya got me fair and square. Well, welcome to Goodneighbor, Mac."

We reached hands over the table and shook formally.

"Thanks."

"Tell ya what. There is somethin' the Rail has been missin'. See that red room over there?" I pointed to the back corner of the Third Rail where the 'Red Room' was. "It's a VIP room of sorts. You can set up shop there for no extra charge. So long as I see you after every job with that ten percent in your hand, you're welcome to continue operatin' here."

"Damn, you're as fair as they say, Hancock."

"I bet they also say to never cross me, heh heh."

"That they do."

"Good. And don't you forget it."