Deuces Are Wild

2

Goodneighbor was abuzz with the arrival of the Brotherhood airship by the time MacCready stumbled past its gate. They'd arrived in force but for what purpose, nobody could be certain. It was refreshing to hear something other than rumors about drug deals gone bad, and worse, about the damn Institute. MacCready slumped onto a bar stool. Maybe they'll kill each other.

Gifford was all apologies. His supposedly reliable source of info mentioned mirelurks but neglected the deathclaw. MacCready told him that source better be deathclaw scat by now or he would be. The ghoul surrendered half the promised caps so it wasn't a total loss.

"And there was someone else already there." MacCready added as he pawed at the caps making certain every last one was accounted for.

"Who?" Gifford inquired with that nigh unendurable rasping croak.

"Someone with the Brotherhood of Steel."

Gifford leaned back in his seat. "Oh. Our prospects aren't lookin' so good."

"No, not really." MacCready said sourly packing up the last bottle cap.

Rising from his seat Gifford held out his hands. "Look I said I was sorry and I'll make it up to you. I'm thinking maybe we can grease a few palms with Marowski's boys."

MacCready put his feet on the desk and lit a cigarette, waving out the flame of the match as he watched the ghoul with indifference. "Marowski? The chem dealer."

"It's steady work." Gifford poured himself a bourbon offering the bottle to his associate who declined with a waved hand. "His lab in Southie is well protected so likely we'd be guarding the goods."

MacCready blew smoke toward the ceiling. "What is this 'we' about?"

"I'm tryin' to get you some connections here, man."

Not even bothering to remove the Grey Tortoise Light from his lips MacCready countered "You give me false info and screw me over then you suggest I go stick out my neck for a bunch of chem pushers. Do I look like I want to get gutted by strung out Raiders?"

Gifford choked on his bourbon in his haste to interrupt. "Okay okay never mind. You don't have to keep on bellyachin' about it. Anyway just sit tight for now I should have something for you in a day or so."

"I'll take my chances elsewhere." MacCready pushed himself out of his seat.

"Beggars can't be choosers, you know!" Gifford chuckled.

Of course the ghoul would mock his misfortune. An insult was on his tongue but MacCready held it. The ghoul knew he had a face like the wrath of Almighty God. No sense in telling him what was true.

It was childish but as he left the room MacCready indulged himself in giving the ghoul the finger.

Gifford laughed and shook his head. "What an asshole."Grinning he poured himself another drink. "What an asshole."

-

 

The talk around Goodneighbor returned to normal. By then the caps Gifford gave MacCready were nearly spent. A few days, my ass, he thought sullenly stuffing the cigarette butt down the empty beer bottle. He was wasting away at the Third Rail again and unless Gifford or Daisy had any bright ideas he might have to see about that Marowski job, and he did not want to have to see about that Marowski job.

"Nuka Cola?" Whitechapel Charlie mocked in a high pitched voice in imitation of a woman's. "'Less ya want rum for that cola why don'tcha go home and pay with your dolls?"

"My caps are good." said a small green hooded individual, pointing a duct tape patched mittened finger at him.

"Fine, fine." The Mister Handy fished under the counter with his claw hand and produced a cola, snapping off the cap. "Seventeen caps."

She paid and sat down beside MacCready with a huff. "What a ripoff." Pausing she turned her head towards him, though he could only see her mouth and chin. "Oh hey."

MacCready was nonplussed. "Have we met?"

"Yep."

Her feet dangled far from the floor and she swung them like a child. Pushing back her hood she said "This is a nice place. I like the singer."

At least she didn't smell. "So you're a mercenary, right? I need to hire you."

The words were music to his ears. "Come on, let's go to the VIP room."

Taking their drinks they passed a few people talking, a couple necking on the couch and one man throwing up last week's dinner into a bucket.

"So no rum in that cola." MacCready said stepping out of the splash zone when the poor guy missed the bucket.

"I'm not a big drinker. If I drank I'd be throwing up more than that guy."

"I don't think anyone can throw up more than that guy."

Once reconvened in the VIP lounge MacCready sat down on the couch and she sat beside him.

"So the price is two hundred fifty caps, non negotiable."

"Oh." she said setting a tin of caps on the couch between them.

"Oh, what?"

"I expected it to be more. Never hired anyone before."

He laughed.

"So you're just taking my caps without even knowing what I want you to do?" She asked.

"Lady, I'm a mercenary. I don't exactly have standards."

"Everybody's got standards. " She turned to him. "First thing I want you to do is to not say anything about my affiliation."

He nodded and she continued. "I'm serious. It could be big trouble for both of us. The gist of it is this- somebody is pinning their crimes on me. Tomorrow there's a settlement I want to visit and ask some questions. We'll discuss it on the way."

"So it's personal business. I'm not about to tangle with you-know-who."

She hummed absently. "Definitely not. And call me Zelling."

"MacCready."

Rising she picked up her empty cola bottle. "Meet me outside the gate at daybreak. I'm going back to the hotel."