RoD: Chapter II| Fallout RP | Alt-Timeline | IC

[NewLakotah]

Carbine, Chicago
House Comstock

White smiles at the King, a smile of relief. Good news. The alliance was confirmed. Not only was the alliance confirmed, but the marriage. He would, of course, have to pass along the idea of the strike against the Nebraskan Empire to the Chief, however, he was certain that he would find the plan more than acceptable.
He nods at the King.

“Thank you, your Majesty. I will pass along the good news to the Chief. As well as the plan against the Nebraskan Empire. As I am sure you can understand that I must first receive his approval of the strike, however, I can say that the plan goes along with our current plan of strategy against the Empire that we ourselves have already been working on. I will pass this along quickly. The Chief and the Princess will both be heading here soon for the wedding ceremony, where our commanders and your commanders can work out the War Council once the ceremony is complete. I am very grateful that we were able to work out such an arrangement here, I hope that this alliance will remain strong not only in our lifetimes, but in our children and grandchildren’s as well. Thank you, your Majesty, I will leave at once.”
With that White rises and bows low, he heads out quickly.

Crow Nation, Montana
Plains Nations Confederacy
March 3

The long line of horsemen move quickly through the mountains, cutting quickly through the hard terrain. The cold winds were sharp and bit harshly at the rides as the moved over the rolling peaks and hills heading south, towards the capital. There were around 30 of them. The Royal Guard. These were not as ornately decorated as the Royal Guard at Oglala, where their task was generally ceremonial. They did of course, protect the Chief, however, threats there were scarce and limited. Here, on the other hand, threats were real. Raiders and Super Mutants had camps set up all along the mountains, attacking and raiding the main towns and encampments of the Crow Tribe. These warriors themselves were returning from the tour at the front. Patrolling the long border and the terrain scouting and attacking any raider or mutant camp they encountered. A few of them were bloodied and scarred from the long days and battles of the patrol.

At the head of the column rode the High Princess Rebecca and the flag bearer of the Crow Nation and of the Plains Nations. The flag of the Crow was also etched on the front of Rebecca’s coat, a long brown fur coat, over which the leather and metal armor rested.. She turns back to look over the column, her hand clutching her hood over of face tightly. A rider moves up quickly towards her. He salutes, placing his right arm across his chest, a gesture she returns. The rider smiles at her.

“Word from your father, the Chief, wíŋyaŋyatapi. He is asking for you to make your way south, to Oglala. Ambassador White has arrived in the Commonwealth, I believe it is related to that.”
Rebecca frowns slightly. She was tired, the 3 week patrol was tiring. The action on the rode was limited, but the effect was still hard. This had been her first real command of a patrol, her promotion in the warrior society to Captain coming in only a few days before the patrol was selected. She had chosen that her own Guard provide the patrol. Now they were ordered to make the long trek all the way south, to Oglala, then, more likely than not, all the way to Chicago. Not a simple ride.

“Thank you, Captain. We will stop to refresh and resupply and get fresh horses for the ride south.”

March 6
Oglala

The Royal Guard and the Princess had rode fast, cutting through the terrain as fast as the horses would let them. As they reached the outskirts of the city, Chief Whitefeather rode out himself to greet the incoming riders, his own Royal Escort with him. He smiles warmly towards Rebecca who smiles back.

“Welcome home, Rebecca. It is great to see you again.” He says to her.

“Thank you, father. It has been far too long, my time as the Crow leader was eventful to say the least over the past few months.”

“I can imagine, I have heard that you have done quite an amazing job up there, leading the patrols yourself, commanding the troops. The Warrior Society is proud of your duty and your courage commanding the frontier.” He responds. He falls in next to her as they move towards the town.

“I have heard word of the ambassador in the Commonwealth. I assume the talks went well?”

“From what I have heard, yes, they have. Our proposal was accepted by them. We will head to the Commonwealth together to unite our two great nations together, then… Then we ride to war.” He says, looking at her solemnly as he speaks. She turns and looks at him sharply.

“Nebraska?”

“Yes, they share our concern over their increasing activity and their incessant desire to expand their borders northward. Towards us and them, our scouts report them resettling men and woman in North Dakota, which is cutting us off and building a barrier between us and our new ally. We will need to act fast and strike first, before they even know we are coming. I have recalled as many as the Society as I can muster, the Confederal Guard will provide the ground force and the security once we ride.”

Rebecca nods. Her mind still focused on something else. “And the marriage?”

Whitefeather looks at her softly now, a loving smile on his face. “Yes, they have agreed. How do you feel?”

“Well, I am nervous. I have never met the man I am to be married, I don’t know their customs, their rituals their society. But I think it will be good. Important.” She responds, trying to sound confident.
“Yes, it is important. It is also important to me that you are happy. I know about as much about this Prince as you do, but from the Ambassador’s words, it would seem that they are good people, in charge of a large and successful kingdom. I am riding with you, along with Jesse Hills and Annabelle, you know them right?”

Of course, Tʼeyé šaké’s reputation is known among all, and Annabelle is a good friend of mine, our warrior class was the same.”

“That’s right, they will attend the wedding and after, they will be at my side for the War Council, from which they will command our forces on the attack.”

“We should pray for success then.”

[Zepplien]

March 10th, Vault 22, Mojave Wasteland
'Danger!' 'The Plants Kill!' these signs, warnings by those long since dead, were ignored by the masked soldiers of the UPVT, flamers in the hands of the first eight, the next eight having FALs raised to their arms. In front of the entire UPVT group were two Tesla Troopers, their filtration systems upgraded to insure nothing would befall them in the Vault, especially the spores that were remotely detected. One of the Soviets bellowed "Alright Comrades! We will breach! You will follow!" the woman charging her Tesla gun as her comrade pushed the half open Vault door further open with the sheer power of the Soviet exoskeleton. The Soviets moved forward 'quickly', looking around before realizing "We are not the first ones here comrades." the commander of the Vault slid his rifle over his shoulder, putting one hand on his officer's sword as he looked over the ghoul bodies. "Energy weapons... Plasma." he muttered, putting a gloved hand to the burned area "We are well late too, judging by the decay... Weeks late at least." the Soviets glanced at one and other, and each gave a nod as they marched forward deeper into the Vault. One of the flamers was assigned to burn away the plants around the doorway, a rifleman assigned to keep the flamer safe.

It was on level 3 they encountered a creature for the first time, a scuttling creature of some kind that was fried by one shot from the Tesla troopers, but the quiet that game after the single discharge was almost as terrifying as the creature itself. The group kept moving however, though no kind of organized resistance was ever encountered, the bodies around indicating that they had been a bit late on the whole idea of Vault 22 being under the UPVT control. The Terminals gradually helped peace together what happened, the spores had mutated in the air as they had detected, and they had caused mutations in the Vault Dwellers. The UPVT troops looked a bit sick to their stomachs, the Soviets too looked horrified when they realized who they had been killing. They tried their best to push past the nausea as they pushed deeper, and deeper into the Vault, trying to get to the oxygen control systems. Vault Tec had built their equipment to last, that was for sure, even as the masked Vault dwellers worked over the systems to make sure they were still functional. The air vents and the Vault would have be cleared of the spores, but after that the Vault could be recolonized. Work began with their Soviet allies, and with swift calls to Big Mt. to sort out how to kill off the spores.

March 11th, Vault 15
A Tesla trooper smashed aside a squatter with the side of his Tesla cannon, a unit of Santo Rosa mercenaries following alongside the trooper. This however, was no joint venture, as could be seen by the combination of Imperial Russian and Vault 18 decor on the Tesla Trooper. One of the squatters pulled out a pistol and the Tesla Trooper, cousin to the Tzar just laughed and cackled "Full discharge!" as the gun lanced forward with enough electricity to fry a suit of power armour, let along the poor human in front of him. He knew his cousin, the Tzar of Monterrey, she was a cruel woman who would not hesitate to have him flayed alive if she even got the hint of him crossing her and trying to keep this Vault for himself. For now though, he was the Boyar of Vault 15, charged with a holy and sacred duty by his cousin. He grinned as he lurched forward, the mercenaries calmly scaring away the squatters around the Vault entrance. The entrance itself was easily opened by the codes given to the UPVT by the Soviets, and as expected the Vault was abandoned for generations. Even so... Vault tec construction was damn impressive to say the least, the place was serviceable even if not as luxurious as it once was. A quick sweep and clear of the Vault by the mercenaries proved nothing but a few pests within.

Boyar Nikolas Emanuel II grinned as he stood over the new colonists of the Vault 15, purchased at no small expense by the Tzar for one of the grandest projects in UPVT history. They would not merely inhabiting the Vault, they were recreating the grandest of experiment of Vault 18! No longer would the crime of the Soviets against all Vault kind hold back the UPVT, for upon the ruins of an unknown Vault the decedents of Vault 18 would make themselves great again! "Children of New York!" the Boyar cried, raising his hands into the air, a grin on his face "Today you receive a new role in life, no longer are you subjects of a failed state, nor even shall you share the upland life! You are now citizens of Neo Vault 18, subjects of her majesty the Tzar, and proud inheritors of our traditions!" he let the children savor it for a moment, jumpsuits and pip boys being handed out among the children by his mercenaries. He let them enjoy their last few moments, then grinned as he licked his lips, the true Children of Vault 18, the handful of decedents left from those whom had managed to escape the cruelty of the Soviets.

He ignored the screams of anguish that came forward as handheld lightweight microwave emitters targeted them, making their skin light up in flame while doing no real damage. "This is just a taste, of the pain you will experience!" Nikolas cried out, sounding overjoyed at the anguish "Obey and your pain will be light, disobey and we will truly redefine agony!" The children were terrified, but when one tried to run, a smart girl just turned her emitter on him and cranked it up will he collapsed from the pain. The emitters could not be set to be lethal, a fail save to insure the New York stock was not used up in excited haste by the Vault 18ers. Far above their heads the Vault door sealed with a hiss, locking the New Yorkers inside with those who kept the sacred arts of Vault 18 alive, and had always worked toward improving. The sadists who even the Vault Loyalty Inspectors hesitated to call upon in all but the most dire of conditions. No longer was this to be known as Vault 15, but instead, it was a recreation, a recreation of a Vault made to study humanity's more dark sadism, its most impressive horrors. So it was, with the screams of children, Vault 18 was reborn.

[Alinora]

- THE INSTITUTE -

---

Diamond City | The Commonwealth
R8-52 - "Sarah Black"

R8-52 was hardly in a position to consider foreign aid, and couldn't speak on the Director's behalf, but she responded. "If Director Hampton is onboard, I'm sure humanitarian aid can be arranged for the rags. However, it should be important for your government to know that Vault 81 will likely remain independent regardless of your aid, so unless the Protectorate is in the business of charity..." she stopped herself. "My apologies." She cleared her throat. "Is there anything else? I will bring these terms to the Institute for the Directorate to disccus immedialtey."

[Intermountain States]

Lordsburg, West Rio (Western New Mexico)
March 3rd, 2252

Under orders from the Provisional Governors of West and East Rio states, the Texas Army continued their efforts to develop New Mexico into a stable region to join the Commonwealth. Although current migration into the newly acquired territories are small, the military expect larger migration with the Assembly debating the Harley Act, which would open the territories to sharecropping farms by Texan citizens.

While the two regiments of the Texas Army are to serve as peacekeeping forces, conflicts have largely died down and the military have placed more focus on redeveloping the states for their eventual membership to the Commonwealth. For the rangers who were expecting more conflicts after Albuquerque, they were surprised by how quickly the mutants surrendered. They entered New Mexico with enough ammunition to fight Super Mutants and now they serve as peacekeepers, stopping some raiders and providing food to poor settlements. For Lieutenant Dominic Bradley, he preferred the quiet life of serving as peacekeepers and gaining the favors of the locals. Less hostiles to deal with. Not a lot of action but somethimes, less action is better than too much action and the town they're stationed in has a bar with hookers so his men aren't too bored out of their minds.

Of course, Bradley knew that the peacekeeping won't last long since he was approached by the Battalion Commander for a new mission. He alongside other company leaders are listening to Major Jeff Baker for their assignment.

"Now, I know your men are enjoying themselves maintaining West Rio but there is still Arizona," Baker begins. "There is no doubt that the communists are plotting to sieze Arizona and the last thing we need is to have them at our borders. That is why command is sending this battalion and the battalion up north to cross the border and to curry favors with local settlements for them to willingly join or align with the Commonwealth. Our task is to get the folks at Tuscon while the other battalion will be more focused on establishing relations with the Mormons in Flagstaff."

"What about the peacekeeping details in West Rio, Commander?" Bradley asked.

"You'll still have a company remaining but the brass ordered for more reinforcements in preparation for a potential war with the Soviets. Besides, I hope your men trained the locals to have an effective fighting force," Baker continued. "If there won't be any other questions, most of this battalion will be leaving for Tuscon in a few days. Be sure to get your men ready to cross the borders."

[Alinora]

- THE INSTITUTE -

---

The Institute | The Commonwealth
Director Michael Hampton

Yet again, it was time for the Directorate to convene. This time, however, Director Hampton had high hopes for this meeting - for reports from campaigns and projects on the surface showed nothing but progress. Walking through the warm white halls of the Institute with his best general, T6-77, at his side, Director Hampton was filled with courage and pride. The Institute was victorious. As the two crossed the Atrium area, where waterfalls led into a small park-like area, Director Hampton crossed his hands behind his back and spoke. "I would like you to know, Sovereign, that I am very proud of you." He cleared his throat. "You have done more for the Institute, and for the Commonwealth, than most people down here - you deserve credit for your deeds."

"I was created to be a soldier, sir." T6-77 replied.

"No" Hampton snapped, "you were created to be a soldier, yes, but not to be a hero. You have become exceptional at both."

"Thank you, Director." T6-77 said.

"That is why I am giving you an opportunity." he continued. "A new 'project' - at least that's what I'm telling the Directorate. You'll be getting recreational time, rather than mission after mission after mission. You deserve the rest, and the ability to explore what interests you."

"I... appreciate it, sir" T6-77 said, a small smile creeping onto his face. "But I am a synth - a machine... others will not like this."

"I understand, Sovereign - I do." The two entered the section in which the Directorate met. "Look, we'll talk about this later, alright? I just want you present at the meeting, your reports will be important."

T6-77 nodded as he and the Director began climbing the stairs, passing a few Gen. 1 Synths that were performing maintenance, and eventually making it to the top floor. Coursers were standing on either side with their hands crossed in front of them, saluting as the Director and T6-77 passed through, and the door sealed behind them. The Directorate - the 5 men and women who led the Institute alongside the Director - stood and nodded. Dr. Zimmer of the SRB, Joseph Arden of Advanced Systems, Lucas Axter of Robotics, Peter Harlic of BioScience, and Sierra Wessing of Facilities. Director Hampton walked around the table and took a seat at the head, while T6-77 stood behind him with his hands behind his back.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." Hampton began, lacing his fingers. "Thank you for coming today." He took a moment to look through a stack of papers in front of him, nodding as he skimmed through them, and then looked back up. "I suppose we can begin with Division Reports?"

"Well" Dr. Zimmer began, "as T6-77 will likely explain, our military campaigns have been a resounding success. We have had isolated instances where a synth has gone rogue, and we've lost at least a dozen during fighting since the last meeting, but we're very well off. I believe the Robotics team can carry this on."

"Yes" Lucas Axter said, clearing his throats. "61% of synths that are damaged or destroyed during combat are repaired and recomissioned within a week, while 39% are scrapped and used in future production. To put it simply, our production is more effecient than ever, and we can quickly replace fallen units."

Director Hampton nodded, then turning to BioScience. "Dr. Harlic., your report?"

"Well," Peter Harlic began, "our agricultural projects involving enhancing productivity and radiation resistance continue to show resounding success on the surface. If we keep this going, we may no longer have to send food supplies to the surface."

Hampton nodded, turning to Joseph Arden. "Dr. Arden, would you like to report?"

"Yes, Director." Arden replied. "As per request of Dr. Axter two months ago, we opened up a project to improve armor capabilities of Second Generation Synths - units that make up the bulk of the Institute's forces. The project, so far, has been successful in overall abilities of the shielding, but we've also made it resistant to Pulse Grenades that have been devastating for synths during combat." He paused. "So, I suggest that Robotics send a team to Advanced Systems and begin cycling synths through, so that we can begin upgrades."

"Anything else?" Director Hampton asked.

"Yes. Synths have constructed the signal nodes in areas across New England, successfully extending the range that we can deploy. We plan to halt the project for the time being, as it is not a necessity."

"Yes, I agree" Hampton replied. "We should be focusing on the Commonwealth - do not build any more nodes." He cleared his throat. "If that is all, I have my own report on the updates on the surface." The Directorate was listening, so he continued. "The Institute's control over the Commonwealth is now... absolute. The Imperial Army has abandoned Salem and fled, while remnants of the Empire's leadership in Goodneighbor has been detained, a long with Hancock, who will face public execution. The raider tribes that were allowed under the Empire have either been wiped out, or assimilated into regular life, while the surviving members of Senate have been placed under... house arrest." He paused to take a sip out of a glass of water. "In addition, we have established regulated militias at most settlements and constructed beacons, allowing us to maintain most of our army here, and use them when needed during quick-deployments. We will be maintaining garrisons at major locations such as the Castle, Bunker Hill, Diamond City, and Fort 111. Our units will also maintain a hold on the Sentinel Site, in the Glowing Sea."

The Directorate did not seem opposed to such motions, and Director Hampton could only nod. "We have also found ourselves in contact with a group calling themselves the "United Protectorate of Vault-Tec". We've promised to give them access to Vaults 75, 114, and 95 in return for extensive trade, and the promise that arms will be restricted, taxes payed, and an office for the Institute will be established in each Vault. Is anyone opposed?"

Axter was quick to respond. "I don't believe that is wise, Director" he began, "it opens up too much room for infiltration into the Commonwealth, especially during such an important period in it's recovery."

"I am being sure that steps are taken to prevent that" Hampton said in response. "Institute offices will monitor events and make sure the dwellers aren't breaking the agreement, and if they do, we have the ability to deploy troops in response. Worst case, we fill the damn vaults with cement." Axter leaned back and chuckled.

"I just hope you know what you're doing, Director."

Hampton nodded. "While we have a moment, I would like T6-77 here to speak in regards to the conflicts - being a commander who led our forces during some of the most intense fighting of the war. I believe it should give some insight, and show you how the people on the surface are feeling." T6-77 stepped foreword, and as he began to speak on his experiences in the war, the Directorate slowly came to realize that this meeting would be longer than others.

[Vacif]

La Federación
March 3rd, 2252
Culiacan, Sinaloa, Mexico
Presidente Thiago Paris

The Presidente reclined in his refurbished chair as he read over the latest report on Super Mutant activity in the Sonora region. Indeed while Sonora was within the territorial claims of the Federación, not much could of been done about the mutants infesting Santa Ana. They came in large numbers over the course of two months, and as they came it became increasingly clear that the regional military would not be able to maintain an offensive against these "visitors" on top of their normal security duties. In fact with the sheer number of new residents in Sonora, they would probably need the entirety of the Federal Military. The military presence in Sonora's north was limited. Unlike the south, and further within the confines of Federation territory, the north was largely spread out in small and vulnerable pockets. This made mounting security operations against raiders and rouge cartel elements difficult. The north of Sonora also did not possess much support for the Federation. Their influence in the region was limited to the coast line as the Creator's Army sized Santa Ana.

Thiago pursed his lips in thought as he pondered their move. The mutants, this "Creator's Army" had seemed to be fighting the Texans to the north-east for some time. Their retreat into Mexico appeared to of been pre-planned by the looks of things. If word from merchant caravans headed through the area was to be believed, these mutants seemed to have a sizable following. What could very well of been thousands of human worshipers, though it seemed with every report that number grew, he hoped that this was not the case.

Deciding to meet this potential friend/enemy early, he called a meeting with the upper echelons of the government hierarchy. It was distasteful to have such a sudden meeting without any forewarning, however this matter took precedent. So, within two hours time, ministers from all sectors of government, military, and surprisingly Cartel showed for their plan of action.

Carbo Municipality
March 4th, 2252

It had been determined that a small political envoy would be sent to the Master's Army to establish positive relations, and to fully understand their intentions and goals in the area, as well as cement their foundations on where both sides stood. There was limited information on the Master and his kin, so hopefully they would learn much from this encounter. The group of twenty (3 politicians, 2 aides, and 15 guards) had rode on horseback/carriage all the way from the capital and were now resting in the Carbo Municipality. It was a small town, some eighty people resided there. The small town was one of the few towns along the 15 between Santa Ana and Hermosillo. A small army station was set up there to house and resupply units operating in the area.

Once the party was rested, they were once again on their way to now Master controlled Santa Ana.

[The Traansval]

New York City
Capital of the State of Hudson and the Federal Republic of New York

March 8th, 2253

The streets of New York City brimmed with people as they moved along the roads and streets of the bustling and blooming city. Brahmin laden with goods moved at a maddeningly slow pace down the newly paved concrete streets, their owners being Merchants who are flocking to Central Park to sell their goods. With Nuclear Apocalypse killing off the worlds vegetation, Central Park was now a barren flat land in the middle of a Concrete Jungle, which set it up as a prime area for the New York City Market. The man made bodies of water, small lakes and ponds in the tract of land, provided Water which was controlled by the New York Water Merchant Association. Those who wanted it had to pay a handful of caps for a bucket, or of course buy the Bottled Water they sold.

Capitalism was a central aspect of New York life, in its embrace of the old world. Greed was Good. Alcohol was another aspect of New York society, so much that the Government even exempt it from its Sin Taxes, even though items as simple as Nuka Cola were taxed, Booze stayed free to all. Well, not free. All manufacture was made by facilities owned by a hodgepodge of companies, but they were all owned by one man.

Joseph Trentino. Head of the Trentino Crime Family. They were ruthless, they commanded a veritable private army of goons and muscle men. Joseph Trentino sat at the head of the Family, a ruling party of Trentino's three sons. The family sat as the ultimate power over a syndicate of Alcohol, Drugs, Gambling, Racketeering, and prostitution. The middle three all being illegal in New York. Anyone who didn't work with the family or threatened the Families business was taken care of a hit squad of goons with submachine guns. For years, the Family had worked the streets without challenge, making hundreds of thousands in caps and now Steel Dollars. Local Police couldn't touch them, and even if they could they were all on the Trentino Payroll. But that was changing.

Director John Hudson, the man at the head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, often referred to by thugs as the Federal Police, had decided his first mission to be the eradication of the Trentino Crime Family. The Trentino Family was one of the biggest reaching force in New York, they held power in nearly every political entity, from local police to a few senators in Congress. However, the FBI was new, a brand new force that had members who were hand selected by Hudson himself.

12 men, 12 Agents of the FBI, were sent to New York City to end the reign of Joseph Trentino and the Family. Twelve hand picked men of incredible caliber, given the very best resources available to the new born Bureau.

Agent Eliot Ness, a personal friend of Hudson's, was chosen to lead the task force. He sat in the Abandoned New York Imports Warehouse, which the Bureau had purchased and made into the Task Force HQ. Agent Ness looked over the list of agents assigned to him.

Bill Gardner: Former Metropolitan Ranger, an expert at undercover work, former athlete, former soldier. Age 50.
Lyle Chapman: A retired Captain in the NYRA, tactician, and investigator.
Barney Cloonan: a muscular Dock worker known for his strength, also has connections with the Dock Workers.
Martin J. Lahart: A boxer and sports enthusiast.
Thomas J. Friel: A former NYRA Trooper and former LCPL of the NYC Homeguard, in charge of supply
Mike King: A deceptively ordinary looking analyst and tactician.
Joseph Dickenson Leeson: An expert driver with the specialty of tailing.
Paul W. Robsky: a short and unobtrusive wire-tapping expert.
Samuel M. Seager: Former New York City police officer, has inside knowledge to the Police and its corruption along with contacts in the force.
Jim Seeley: A former private investigator.
Al 'Wallpaper' Wolff: Former member of the Trentino Crime Family Syndicate, operated as a Enforcer. Now works as a FBI Agent.
Frank Basile: Former NYRA Corporal, Explosives and Firearms expert.

Agent Ness looked up from the list to watch the Agents on it milling about on the floor of the now empty Warehouse. Agent Lahart and Agent Cloonan were given lessons to a few of the others on Hand to hand fighting, or mainly how its done on the streets, often called Dirty Fighting. Agents Chapman, King, and Seeley were looking over a map of New York and known establishments working with the Trentino's. Agent Leeson was polishing the Chrysalis Highwaymen he prefered to drive, which sat next to two Armored Cars. Basile and Friel were looking over the weapons they had, mainly Submachine Guns, Revolvers, and Shotguns along with a few Hunting Rifles and a single Machine Gun. Wolff and Seager were playing a game of poker in the kitchen while Robsky sat at the same table fixing a wire tapper. All actions stopped when Gardner threw open the doors.

Agent Gardner: We got a hit! A CI told us about a drug den on Fleet Street.

Ness scrambled and hit the button on the intercom system the warehouse had.

Agent Ness: Lock and load boys, lets go!

The Agents of Task Force 1 scrambled to the trucks they had at the front, climbing in the back while Leeson and Ness got in one of the Armored Cars. They slapped the removable Sirens on top of the cars and rolled up the large garage doors, rolling out onto the streets.

People on the streets looked up as two trucks and a Armored Car came storming down the street, little domes on top of them spewing out a horrid noise and blinding everyone with flashing blue lights. The police had cars, sure, but they sure never used em in the city, let alone a Armored Car whose machine gun was sweeping side to side. The small convoy came to a screeching halt in front of a block of stores, many closed, with one sporting a burned out neon sign saying "Jims General Goods". The Agents jumped out of their vehicles, with the Armored Car standing guard at the head of the street.

Ness, followed by Basile, Seeley, Wolff, Friel, Lahart, and Chapman entered the dilapidated place of business while Gardner, Cloonan, King, and Robsky circled around the back. The rest stood guard outside. The agents came in with guns out, .45 "Tommy" Guns and 12 Gauge, and badges flashing.

Agent Ness: Federal Bureau of Investigation, this is a raid, hands up!

The man behind the desk, presumably Jim, threw his hands in the air. A door behind him burst open to admit three men in dark black suits and thick trench coats. The men produced 10mm SMG's and aimed at the agents. The Agents opened fire on the men, goons of the Trentino's. The goons were gunned down, with Lahart getting a bullet in his hip and being sent out to be taken to a hospital by Leeson. With the goons dead, the now 6 man team ran through the door, stepping over the dead corpses of the Goons and the Store Clerk who was killed in the cross fire.

Down a set of stairs revealed a room with low lighting and red circular couches set all over the place, prostitutes doing their services and feeding Chems to the Customers. A group of Trentino Goons looked up startled at the Agents, and reached for there guns but were disarmed by Gardner and his team, who were now coming in through a trap door that led from the alley behind the Building into the Chem Labs. Gardners and his Team had arrested the Chem dealers and producers, and taken care of a few goons behind making their way into the Den, where they were now.

The ladies of the night and their drugged and dazed customers looked up in astonishment as metal handcuffs were slapped on their wrists, and the sight of the Agents and now NYC Police entering their little slice of Paradise. Agent Ness looked over a list held by the Head of the Den, a top lieutenant in the Trentino Syndicate known as Big Tom. The paper logs listed hundreds of chems held in the storage area, along with a few names of men associated with the Trentino's. This raid will cost the Trentino's a few thousand, it was their primary Den in NYC.

Ness smirked at his triumph.

Agent Basile: Hey boss, some Reporter from the New York Times want a picture. Should we kick him out?

Agent Ness: No, lets use this to our advantage....

Ness and the rest of the agents came over to the center of the room, where 4 NYC Police Officers struggling to throw out the surprisingly burly James Henry, Reporter for the New York Times. Ness ordered his men to stop the Officers, who wouldn't budge saying their Chief wanted Henry off the crime scene, but quickly gave in when Agent's Basile and Gardner flashed their Badges, then their Guns.

James Henry: Reporter James Henry, for the New York Times, can i get a picture for the Paper?

Ness nodded and the rest of the Agents gathered around him, holding up their guns or a few Cigars they found in a mock pose.

James Henry: Great picture fella's! Say, a few words for the readers. What happened here?

Agent Ness: This place was a Drug den operated by the Trentino Crime Family, the new FBI has tasked me and my men with a single mission, a mission i wish to make public to all. The FBI is now at war with the Trentino Crime Family, and we will not rest until they are brought to justice.

James Henry: Say, ain't you scared about going up against the Trentino's?

Instead of Ness replying, it was Gardner who snorted and replied;

Agent Gardner: Scared? Why we're Untouchable!

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The next day, the Sunday print of the New York Times had a big bold title, and a picture to go along with it.

The Untouchables!
J. Hudsons crack department of Lawmen declared war on Organized Crime
Agent's raid a Drug Den supposedly belonging to the Trentino Crime Family, hundreds of illegal Chems found, dozens arrested