Chapter 14: The Lincoln Legacy

"Dashwood: You're listening to the adventures of me, Herbert "Daring" Dashwood, and my stalwart ghoul manservant Argyle. Today's episode: In the Black Widow's Web.

Dashwood: (machine gunfire) Well, those super mutants are persistent, if nothing else. A word of advice: keep running!

Penelope: In those hills up there. Isn't that where the hidden village of Rockopolis is located? If only we knew where it was…

Dashwood: Turns out you're in good company, Miss Chase! Argyle and I are old friends of Rockopolis, know the secret knock and everything!

Argyle: Boss! That's privileged information! You can't just –

Dashwood: Now, now, old chum, Miss Chase is hardly going to violate the secrets of Rockopolis, isn't that right, Miss Chase? Besides, necessity calls!

Penelope: So you do know where it is! Well come on then, those super mutants can't be far behind.

Dashwood: Just over here. This large boulder. And now the secret knock. (knocking) And, voila! (sliding stone)

Penelope: Now that's what I call a getaway, Daring. So tell me, do you take all your girlfriends here?

Dashwood: Oh, no, Miss Chase, I can assure you this will be our special place.

Argyle: Listen to yourself, boss! This is Rockopolis, one of the safest places in the Wasteland, and you just showed a stranger where it is!

Dashwood: Ignore my manservant's mutterings, Penelope. He has a penchant for the dramatic, you see. Why, one time…

Penelope: Oh, I don't know, Daring darling. I find the ghoul's instincts to be… frighteningly accurate.

Dashwood: Here I thought we were friends. And now you have a gun in my face. Bad form, Miss Chase, bad form.

Penelope: Jabber all you want. In about thirty seconds my associates from Paradise Falls will join us.

Argyle: I knew it! I knew this dame was no good, but it's worse than I thought: she's the Black Widow, the leader of the slavers!

Penelope: Quite right. We've been trying to capture these Rockopolis rodents for years. Never could have done it without you, Daring.

Dashwood: Looks like I've gotten us in one heck of a pickle, Argyle, old chum. One heck of a pickle indeed!

Dashwood: Be sure and tune in next time for another exiting adventure of me, Herbert "Daring" Dashwood and my stalwart ghoul manservant Argyle!"

Since retrieving their battle truck the following day, the trio had listened to the GNR radio station as they headed towards the Temple of the Union. Clover of course was driving, Marcus was in the passenger's seat, and Charon was in the middle. Both Clover and Charon were wearing the captured black Talon Company armor, but they had painted over the white talon symbol on the chest. The sun was beginning to set, and Marcus was hoping they could get there before dark. "Do you think these stories about Dashwood and Argyle are true?" he asked.

Clover shrugged. "Don't know, suga. If you ask me they sound a little ridiculous."

Marcus laughed. "You mean more ridiculous then the stories of the Lone Wanderer?"

Clover let out a chuckle. "I wonder why Three Dog calls you that?"

Marcus stared out the window. "I think he's trying to make me sound more important then I am. I think he's using me as a symbol to encourage people to join this 'good fight' of his."

Charon, who had been silent for most of trip from Project Purity, turned to Marcus. "Does that anger you?"

Marcus thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No...I understand why he does it. People out here need hope, even if it's exaggerated. I'm just worried I won't be able to live up to what's expected of me."

No one spoke after that. They drove for another thirty minutes, and were crossing a field, when the sound of gunfire up ahead caused Clover to stop. A pile of rubble was blocking their view and they decided to get out of the truck and climb it. Lying on their stomachs, the trio took in the scene before them. Directly below was a two lane road, and on the other side was the remains of a three storied building being assaulted by over thirty Talon Company mercs. Marcus could see over fifty runaway slaves inside the building trying desperately to keep them away. Some of the ex-slaves were armed with hunting and assault rifles, but most were armed with only melee weapons. The Talon Company mercs were using grapple guns to try and scale the walls to the second floor, but each time the ex-slaves had managed to cut the ropes. A large flat bed truck was parked down the road off to the side; no doubt intended to be a transport for the soon to be captured slaves. The scene looked like something from the dark ages to Marcus.

It looks like we are too late." Charon said.

Marcus looked back at their truck. "No, not yet. We have two-hundred fresh rounds for the fifty." He shot Clover a sly grin, and she grinned right back. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, lover?"

Both of them were remembering the time they tore apart a band of raiders who were trying to kill Quinn. Charon, who was not with them at the time, was confused. "Thinking about what?" He asked.

"You just ride shotgun and do what you do best." Marcus said. He looked back at the chaotic battle, and then over at his friends. "Good luck."

Clover stole a kiss. "You too, suga."

Hannibal Hamlin, an African-American ex-slave and founder of the Temple of the Union, was desperately trying to rally his rag-tag group of escaped slaves to form a defense. For the most part they had done a good job of keeping the Talon Company mercs at bay, but ten of his followers were dead, and another dozen were wounded. After the assault with the grapple guns had failed, the mercenaries resorted to pounding the building with rockets and grenades, and Hannibal was certain the whole Temple was going to come down on their heads. "Take out those launchers!" He screamed to the few ex-slaves who had guns.

"Hannibal!" It was Simone, the Temple's head of security. "A group of mercs have reached the gate and are rigging explosives!"

Hannibal reloaded his hunting rifle. "If they breach the gate it's all over. Come on!"

He and Simone were about to head for the main gate, when the roar of an engine got their attention. "What the hell is that?" Simone asked.

Clover drove the battle truck straight into the group of the unsuspecting mercenaries as Marcus unleashed a hail of bullets with the .50 cal. Ten mercs were cut to pieces, and Clover crushed two more under the wheels of the truck. "Twenty points!" she cheered.

Charon fired his Terrible shotgun out the passenger side window, scoring a head shot on one merc, and two chest shots to another. The ones that remained scrambled for cover behind the rubble and returned fire, as the truck made a complete circle around the building. As Marcus began loading the last ammo belt into the .50, he spotted movement in the flat bed truck just up ahead. Suddenly, a Talon Company merc removed a tarp - revealing his own mounted .50 caliber machine gun! Marcus ducked down and screamed through the rear window. "Gun it, Clover!"

Clover saw the danger and hit the gas, and drove past the flat bed just as the gunner opened fire. The powerful rounds riddled the truck, and the only thing that saved the three occupants was it's steel armor. Clover and Charon ducked down just seconds before .50 caliber rounds smashed through the ballistics glass. Marcus was on his knees trying to reload the machine gun, but the truck began swerving violently, and when the left rear tire was blown out, Marcus was thrown from the truck bed. He hit the asphalt hard and rolled, and if it hadn't been for his Ranger armor, he most definitely would've broken a few bones. Clover drove for only a few more yards before losing control and slammed into a pile a rubble. Miraculously, aside from a few bumps and bruises, she and Charon were okay.

Marcus realized he was out in the open, which was the last place he wanted to be. He quickly stood up and saw the last of the Talon Company mercs moving in. He drew his desert eagle and opened fire, scoring a hit in the chest of one of them. The powerful round sliced through the body armor and killed the merc instantly. Marcus kept shooting and was trying to make his way behind some rubble, when a laser beam struck his right side, sending him to the ground. By now Clover and Charon had gotten out of the battered truck and they saw Marcus go down.

"Marcus!" Charon screamed as he opened fire, wounding one of the mercs in the arm. Clover added her own fire with her submachine gun, forcing the mercs back. Marcus struggled against the intense burning in his side, and half crawled and half staggered behind the pile of rubble. Though his Ranger armor had absorbed most of the hit, his lower right abdomen had been badly burned.

The Talon Company commander ordered his remaining men to move in for the kill. "I want this ones head on a fuck'n platter!" he screamed.

The mercs .50 cal opened up again, and the gunner was sweeping between Marcus' position and the truck Charon and Clover were using for cover. Clover could see the mercs closing in on Marcus. "I've got to get to him!"

She was about to run out from behind the truck, when Charon held her by the arm. "You'll be shredded!" he yelled.

Marcus could hear the mercs getting closer, and he slapped a fresh mag into his desert eagle and readied a frag grenade: he was not going to be taken alive by slavers again.

A .308 round struck the Talon Company's gunner between the eyes, silencing the .50. The ex-slave sniper, an old bald man wearing a white wastelander outfit, took down another merc armed with a rocket launcher. The Talon Company commander looked on in horror as the building's gate burst open, and a horde of ex-slaves stormed outside and charged at them. Though a few of the ex-slaves were cut down by gunfire, the rest descended on the mercs with rifles, pistols, clubs, knifes - even their bare hands. Hannible used the butt of his rifle and fractured the skulls of two mercs, while Simone used her AK-47's bayonet to gut a merc below his armor's chest plate.

The Talon Company commander knew the situation was hopeless and began to fall back. "Talon Company! Retre..." he was cut off by a .308 bullet taring into his throat, and he died before he hit the ground. One of the ex-slaves named Caleb Smith climbed onto the flat bed truck, and used the .50 cal to slaughter the remaining nine mercs as they trying to flee.

Hannibal raised his rifle and let out a roar of victory, and he was joined by the rest of his followers. A smile crossed Marcus' face as he witnessed the entire spectacle. 'Score one for the good guys.' he thought. The sudden pain from his side made him wince, and he slowly began to remove the armor covering his wound. Clover and Charon ran over to him.

"How bad is it?" Charon asked.

"Laser blast...burns like hell!"

Both Clover and Charon noticed the smell of burning flesh, and Clover quickly took the first aid kit out of her bag. The sound of a gun being cocked got their attention, and when they looked up, Simone was standing on the pile of rubble pointing her AK-47 at them. "Keep your hands where I can see them!"

The three friends put up their hands and remained still. Hannibal and several other ex-slaves arrived a moment later. "Simone, what are you doing? These people helped us."

Simone kept her eyes, and gun, trained on the trio. "For all we know they're just another group of slavers trying to cash in on the bounty on us. See," she pointed her gun at Clover, "that one's wearing a collar. I bet the one in the green armor is the master."

Clover stared daggers at Simone. "Honey, I wear what I want, and my choice of jewelry is none of your damn business."

Simone was about to respond with an obscenity, when Hannibal placed his hand on her rifle. "That's enough, Simone. These people helped us, and we will trust them until they give us reason not to."

Simone sighed and lowered her weapon. "Alright, " she turned to the trio. ",but I'm watching you." She stormed off, and everyone relaxed. "Sorry about that." Hannibal said. "Simone is a good person, but it takes her time to trust anyone."

Both Hannibal and Charon helped Marcus into the Temple. The building was a shell of it's former self, with only a few of the inner walls still standing. While Hannibal and a few of the groups leader had their own rooms, the rest of the ex-slaves slept on old mattresses and bedrolls scattered about. There were a few fire barrels on each floor to keep people warm during the cold night, and they had only one small generator to provide lighting. To Marcus, sqauler was the only word that could describe the conditions these ex-slaves were living in. Carefully they laid Marcus down on a mattress, and a female ex-slave (whom obviously had some medical training), began to treat his wound.

"We cannot thank you enough for the help you've given us." said Hannibal. "My name is Hannibal Hamlin, and I am the founder of the Temple of the Union."

Marcus shook his hand. "Glad we could help, Hannibal. This is Clover, Charon and I am Marcus Lincoln."

Everyone within ear shot stopped what they were doing and stared at him. The word "Lincoln" could be heard being muttered among the ex-slaves.

"You are the Lone Wanderer who shares the name of the Great Emancipator." Hannibal said.

Marcus winced as the medic injected a stimpak above his wound. "Who?"

The crowd parted slightly and Hannibal pointed to a stone head placed on a shrine. "President Abraham Lincoln; the man who freed the slaves of America."

Marcus recognized the head from pictures he had seen of the Lincoln Memorial in downtown D.C. "How did that get here?"

Hannibal sat down in a chair next to him. "After I had escaped from my master, I found the head of the statue of Lincoln here, and I knew it was a sign for me to establish this place as a safe haven for runaway slaves."

Marcus shuttered as the medic applied burn cream to his side. "Well, I share Lincoln's name but we're not related."

"And yet," Hannibal began, "you and your friends have helped dozens of slaves. We heard about how you destroyed the slavers haven of Paradise Falls, and now you nearly lost your life helping us. You may not carry Lincoln's blood, but you carry his spirit with you."

As Marcus listened to Hannibal, he was reminded of his conversation with another idealist (who happened to be on the radio). "Well...I don't know about that, but thank you."

The medic placed a bandage on his wound and injected med-x for the pain. 'Hope I don't get addicted to this stuff.' Marcus thought.

"You should spend the night and rest." Hannibal said. "We have hot food that you're more then welcome to."

Marcus propped himself up on his elbows. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm on a mission of my own."

Hannibal nodded. "Yes, we heard you are looking for your father. At least allow us to help you by fixing your truck. Glen!"

A young Asian-American man wearing a ball cap ran over to them.

"Glen, see what you can do about our friend's truck."

"I already took a look at it. Whoowee, those are some fine wheels you got there!"

"Can you fix it?" Hannibal asked.

"I think I can scavenge what I need from that flat bed to make it work. It'll take at least a day, though."

Marcus gritted his teeth. 'Another day!', he thought. "That's okay," he tried to sit up, "I can walk."

Charon placed his hand on Marcus' shoulder. "No you can't! I know you want to find your father Marcus, but you're hurt, we haven't slept in thirty-six hours, and our truck's damaged."

Marcus looked over at Clover. "He's right, suga: we could all use a rest and something to eat."

Almost immediately after hearing about food, Marcus' stomach began to growl. Conceding defeat, he let out a sigh. "Alright...we'll rest for a while."

Hannibal smiled. "Excellent. Make yourselves at home."

Marcus noticed the sniper on the third floor that had saved them. He was sitting there with his rifle, watching the horizon like a hawk. "Who's the sharpshooter, Hannibal?"

"That's Arkansas. He's a good man, but he's very leery of strangers. We found him about a month ago holed up in this place called Minefield. He was convinced slavers were coming for him, and he nearly killed three of us before we were able to talk him down."

Marcus stared at the man with pity. The damage these slavers did to people was unforgivable. "I would like to thank him."

"Well, I would wait. When he's ready, he'll open up to you." Hannibal addressed the group. "Come on everyone, help Glen get the truck inside."

Clover knelt down beside Marcus and kissed his lips. "Does it hurt, suga?"

Marcus looked down at his bandages. "A little bit."

Clover carefully kissed the top of the bandages, then kissed his stomach area around it. "There...is that better?"

Marcus smiled at her. "It's definitely an improvement."

Clover giggled. "You rest and I'll get us something to eat."

Marcus nodded and Clover stood up and left. He turned to Charon. "Go and get some food for yourself; I'll be fine."

Charon gave a nod and walked off. A few minutes later Clover returned with two bowls of pork n' beans. "Here you go, suga..."

Marcus was sound asleep. Clover couldn't help but smile at how adorable he looked. "Wore you out, didn't we lover?" She placed the bowl next to him and kissed his forehead. After eating her share of the meal, Clover decided to explore the building and eventually found a small classroom. Inside was a young Hispanic woman sitting at a desk. She looked up when Clover entered the room. "Hello, my name is Alejandra. You must be Clover; thank you again for helping us."

"You're welcome." Clover turned and spied Marcus still asleep. Alejandra stood up and followed her gaze. "So...you and the Wanderer are, um..."

Clover flashed a coy smile. "We're friends. Very good friends."

Alejandra began to blush. "Oh...I see."

Clover leaned against the wall. "So Alejandra, what do you do around here?"

"Well, after my master married and had children, he educated me so that I could teach them. So now, I teach the children here at the Temple."

Clover crossed her arms. "That doesn't sound so bad."

Alejandra looked down at the ground. "Those weren't always my duties. I was sold into slavery at an early age. I was young and pretty so...I don't need to tell you what my other duties were."

That statement hit Clover hard, and she unconsciously touched her collar. No, she did not have to be told what happened. She and Alejandra talked like that for over an hour, and Clover was amazed to hear how similar their stories were. Even more amazing was how Alejandra's past didn't seem to matter to anyone. No one called her a whore, or told her she was worthless. Far from it, these people trusted her to teach their children.

When Marcus finally awoke, he found the pork n' beans next to him, and though cold, it was the best meal he'd had in a while. He noticed Clover and Alejandra talking and eventually, the two woman hugged before Clover left the classroom. Marcus watched the scene with curiosity, since Clover had never shown affection for anyone but him. He heard foot steps coming from behind, and he turned to see Hannibal sitting down in a chair next to him. "You're awake, excellent. How are you feeling?"

Marcus put his hand over his wound. "Much better, thank you."

A moment later Clover and Charon joined them. Marcus took a look around the building. "Listen Hannibal, killing those Talon Company mercs might have bought you time, but they are going to send everything they've got against you now. And even with the weapons you captured, you won't be able to defend this place for long."

Hannibal looked at his rag-tag group. "I've already come to that conclusion, which is why I have to ask for your help once again."

"With what?" Marcus asked.

"It has been my dream that one day I can move my people to the Lincoln Memorial, and restore it to it's former glory. Not only will we be able to defend ourselves better, but the memorial will stand as a beacon of hope for all slaves wanting freedom." Hannibal's stare seemed to burn into Marcus. "Just as finding the head of the Lincoln statue was a sign, I believe you showing up here in our hour of need is a sign as well."

Marcus shifted uncomfortably. This conversation was beginning to get strange. "A sign for what?"

"Like I said, I believe the spirit of the Great Lincoln is with you, and he has brought you here to help us make this dream a reality."

For a few moments, Marcus was speechless, flattered - and a little frightened. "Listen Hannibal, I admire your passion but...I'm no prophet; or saint - I'm just a man trying to find his father."

Hannibal was not about to let it go. "If that is true, then why are you here?"

Marcus pondered the answer to that question. In the weeks since his escape from the Vault, Marcus found himself in one impossible situation after the other: discovering Burke tampering with the Megaton bomb, fighting crazed cannibals, captured by Eulogy Jones, rescuing Reilly's Rangers - on and on and on. Yet he some how always seemed to not only get out alive, but he managed to help a lot of people in the process. He never set out to be a hero, or become the 'Lone Wanderer'. He only wanted to find his father. Marcus didn't know if it was fate, the spirit of Abraham Lincoln or dumb luck that brought him here. "I don't know." He finally said.

Hannibal placed his hand on Marcus' shoulder. "Then...will you help us?"

Marcus took a deep breath, but before he could answer, Clover spoke up. "Yes, we will."

Both Marcus and Charon looked at Clover as if she had lobsters coming out of her ears. At first they thought it was a joke, but one look into her eyes and they could tell she was serious. "We have to help them, suga."

Marcus looked over at Hannibal. "Would you excuse us for a minute?"

Hannibal stood up. "Of course." Once the ex-slave leader had left, Marcus sat up straight and turned to Clover. "What's going on, Clover?"

"What do you mean, lover?"

"Since when are you so eager to help people?" Marcus asked.

Clover seemed almost insulted by the question. "You're always telling me we should help people, right?"

Marcus shrugged. "Well yes, but..."

"Look at these people." Clover interrupted. "You said it yourself: they won't stand a chance against Talon Company, and after today, I doubt those mercs will be looking for a bounty. They'll be out for blood."

Marcus looked around at the men, woman and children inside the dilapidated building. In that moment he remembered what he had told himself the night in Underworld when he helped Reilly: 'when I find my father, I want to be able to look him in the eye'. It took Clover, the hardened ex-slave girl, to remind him of this...and he felt ashamed. "Alright, Clover. If it means that much to you, then we'll help them."

Clover nearly jumped for joy and threw her arms around Marcus. "Thank you!" she yelled as she covered him with kisses. Marcus couldn't help but laugh at her joy. "Okay, okay. Hannibal!"

Hannibal rejoined the group. "So it is true? You will help us?"

"Yes."

Hannibal's face lite up. "This is great news! Okay, before Caleb, who was taught stone masonry, can restore the monument he will need a detailed picture of what it once looked like. The most likely place will be the Natural History Museum in downtown D.C."

Marcus looked over at Charon. "Is there a picture of the Lincoln Memorial in Underworld?"

Charon shook his head. "No, not in Underworld. In the sealed off part of the museum is an exhibit dedicated to Mr. Lincoln; there might be one there."

"Why is that part of the museum sealed off?" Marcus asked.

"Because it is overrun by ferals."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Great." He mumbled. "Is that all you need?"

Hannibal shifted in his seat. "There is one more thing: I recently received word that Super Mutants have overrun the memorial. I need every able bodied man and woman here to defend the Temple, so I must ask you to clear the mutants out. Can you do that?"

An exhausted sigh escaped from Marcus, but it was soon followed by a cocky grin. "Don't worry, Hannibal. We eat Super Mutants for breakfast."

The ex-slave leader had a sudden look of horror on his face. Marcus raised his hands. "It's a joke, Hannibal."

Hannibal relaxed and let out a chuckle. "Of course. Glen assures me your truck will be fixed by morning." He shook Marcus' hand. "Good luck to you."

Marcus nodded. "Thank you."

As Hannibal walked away, Clover kissed Marcus on the cheek and headed back to the Temple's classroom. Marcus looked over at Charon. "So, what do you think about all of this?"

Charon just shook his head. "I follow your orders. My opinion does not matter."

Marcus leaned closer to him. "Oh really? The last couple of days you have made your opinion well known."

Charon was surprised at the statement, and then he remembered that he had given his opinions without asking. This realization troubled the ghoul, who only spoke when spoken to. Marcus could tell he was deep in thought and decided to press. "So I ask you again: what do you think?"

Charon took a deep breath. "I think...you try to do too much. And since we left Project Purity you seem - troubled."

Marcus couldn't help but admit that there was a lot of truth in what his companion said. "Ever since I listened to my father's tapes...I just...I have this feeling that he's in trouble; and that he needs my help."

"He seems capable of handling himself...much like his son."

Marcus let out a chuckle. "Well, he apparently has more experience out here then I do." Marcus decided to change the subject. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it? All of these slaves breaking away from their masters and gaining their freedom. Doesn't it make you think?"

Charon's face remained emotionless. "Think about what?"

"Well...that maybe you could free yourself from Ahzrukhal?"

"No!" Charon quickly responded. "Ahzrukhal holds my contract. I am honor bound to obey him."

Marcus shock his head. "There is no honor in being a slave, Charon. Look around you; look at what these runaway slaves have accomplished. You're the strongest man I know in the waste, and if anyone can win his freedom, it's you, Charon."

The ghoul thought about what Marcus had said for several moments. No one had ever told him that he was strong enough to be on his own, and for a moment he imagined what freedom would be like...

'Ahzrukhal holds your contract!'

"No!" he snapped. "Unless you buy my contract, I will go back to Ahzrukhal next week." With that, the ghoul stood up and walked off. Marcus hung his head in defeat. 'Damn brainwashing', he thought. Suddenly a very giddy Clover grabbed him by the hand. "Come on, lover. Alejandra said we could use her quarters for the night."

A wink from Clover told Marcus exactly what she wanted to use the quarters for. "I don't know, " he teased, "I'm still injured."

Clover flashed him a coy smile. "I'll be gentle."

Marcus was on his feet. "Well...if you insist!"

The two companions ducked inside the small room, and did not emerge until the next morning.

Hannibal had delivered on his promise, and the return of the battle truck made the journey to Underworld much easier for the trio. As before, they had to hide the truck north of the city and proceeded through the metro tunnels. When they arrived at the ghoul city, Charon led them to the sealed off section of the museum. The rusted steel doors had not been opened in ages, and it took all three of them to pry them open. Almost immediately they were attacked by six ferals, which the trio gunned down with ease. The search through the museum was slow going, and the fact that there seemed to be ferals behind every corner did not help. For the first time, Marcus encountered what were called "glowing ferals", ghouls that let off a yellow glow, and would release lethal doses of radiation. Since he was immuned to the harmful rays, Charon would rush in to take out these ghouls, while Marcus and Clover tried to keep their distance. Also, they were each caring an extra assault rifle and pistol from their stash in the truck, but only Marcus knew why. He was planning to sell them to Tulip in Underworld in the hope that he could raise enough caps to buy Charon's contract.

After following signs pointing towards the Lincoln exhibit, they came to an area of the museum locked behind steel bars. While there appeared to be no ferals in that section, Marcus spotted two active auto turrets suspended by the ceiling. No wanting to get into a shootout, Marcus found the turret controls nearby, hacked in using his PIPBOY, and shut them down. He was also able to unlock the cage doors, and they entered the exhibit. As they searched for anything with a clear picture of the memorial, the trio came across other interesting Lincoln objects: a nine-inch tall doll of the President, a box containing mint condition pennys, a wanted poster of the assassin John Wilks Booth, a recording of Lincoln's voice, his personal diary, and the President's famous top hat. Though these were not what they had come for, Marcus knew the ex-slaves would treasure these artifacts, and he stuff them into his bag.

After more searching, they had finally found what they were looking for: a large poster of the Lincoln Memorial was hanging in the last room of the exhibit. Next to it, laying in a hurmedically sealed case, was Lincoln's .44 caliber repeating rifle. Marcus pried open the case and took a moment to admire the antique. It was beautiful, and looked as new as the day it had been manufactured. After cursing himself for selling all of his .44 ammo to Flak, he took the rifle and poster.

Tulip was pleasantly surprised when she saw Marcus walk into her store. "You're back! You're...you're really back. What can I do for you, human?"

Marcus began to place the assault rifles and pistols on the counter. "How much will you give me for these?"

With the money he got for the guns, and the caps he already had, Marcus had more then enough caps to buy Charon's contract. While he preferred that the ghoul break away from Ahzrukhal on his own, Marcus reluctantly admitted that this might be the only way. When they entered the Ninth Circle, Marcus spotted Quinn at the bar. "Hey Quinn, how are you?"

"Hey, Marcus!" The two friends shook hands. "Sit down and have a drink."

Marcus stepped up to the bar and shook his head. "I'm sorry but I'm actually here on business."

Quinn was a little surprised. "Oh? What's going on?"

"I'm going to buy Charon's contract."

Quinn looked over at Charon, who was standing a few feet behind Marcus. "You have that kind of money?"

"I do now. I think it's the only way I can free him."

"Well, watch yourself kid. Ahzrukhal always has a trick up his sleeve."

As if on cue, the club owner appeared behind the bar. "Ah, the Lone Wanderer returns. Are you here to return Charon?"

Marcus placed the small satchel full of caps on the bar. "Here's 2,000 caps for Charon's contract."

Ahzrukhal opened the satchel. "Impressive. I didn't think you could raise this kind of money."

Marcus held out his hand. "Then it's a deal?"

Ahzrukhal tied up the satchel and smiled. "Actually, I have a better idea. Charon! Cover the Wanderer!"

Charon drew his Terrible shotgun and pointed it directly at Marcus, who spun around in disbelief. Quinn jumped off his bar stool and stood back, and Clover drew her 10mm submachine gun and pointed it at Charon.

"I've decided to collect the bounty on your head, Wanderer." Ahzrukhal said. "Now, place your weapons on the bar, or I will order Charon to kill you."

"Fuck that!" Clover snarled as she prepared to fire, but Marcus raised his hands. "Clover don't! Don't fire!" He turned to Charon. "Charon, you don't have to do this."

"Yes he does!" Ahzrukhal said as he stepped to the corner of the bar. "I have his contract."

Marcus ignored him and focused on his friend. "It's just a piece of paper, Charon. You don't have to be his slave anymore, you can make your own choices."

Ahzrukhal became impatient. "I told you to surrender, Wanderer. Do it!"

Marcus continued to desperately try to get through to his friend. "Remember the people at the Temple. They freed themselves now you can do the same."

"That's it!" Ahzrukhal yelled. "I was going to take you alive, but the bounty is just as good if your dead. Charon, kill him!"

Clover raised her gun and Marcus pleaded with her again not to fire. Quinn drew his shotgun and pointed it at Ahzrukhal. "Call him off, Ahzrukhal or I swear to..."

"You'll what, Quinn? Charon can kill the Wanderer and you before you could get one shot off."

Marcus carefully took a step closer to Charon, who stood frozen in place. "Charon, you are my friend and I know you are not going to shoot me."

"You don't have any friends, Charon!" Ahzrukhal growled. "What are you waiting for? Do it!"

"You're the strongest man I know, Charon," Marcus said with as much confidence as he could muster. "and I know you're not going to kill me. Free yourself from this scum!"

The tension in the room was rising by the second, and everyone began yelling and screaming at each other at the same time. Quinn was threatening Ahzrukhal. Ahzrukhal was screaming at Charon to obey him. Clover was cursing at Charon, and Marcus was pleading with both of them to lower their weapons. Charon stood in front of Marcus and the Terrible shotgun was trembling in his hands. Ahzrukhal had just given him an order to kill Marcus, but something was stopping him from pulling the trigger. Marcus was his friend - the first real friend he'd ever had.

'Ahzrukhal holds your contract!'

The memory of Marcus pulling him out of the line of fire in the Statesman Hotel flashed into Charon's mind.

'Ahzrukhal holds your contract!'

Charon could feel his finger straining against the trigger. Just a little more pressure and Marcus would be dead. His friend would be dead.

'Ahzrukhal holds your con...'

A single gun shot rang out.