We set off for Park Street Station early the next morning. The rain seemed to have moved on, but Diamond City was wreathed in fog; I considered waiting until the sun burned it off, but after a quick discussion with Piper we decided not to wait. We figured it was better to deal with the poor visibility now than risk getting caught out after dark during our return trip. I waved to Danny Sullivan as we passed out of the park proper and into the service area facing Jersey Street.

 

"You two heading out already?" He asked.

 

I nodded, but before I could answer him verbally Piper cut in. "Yeah, and you better let us in next time!"

 

Danny raised his hands in a placating gesture. "C'mon, Piper, you know that wasn't my idea."

 

"Yeah, yeah, I know it was McDonough's orders, but come on - cut me a break. I can't do my job if I can't come and go from Diamond City."

 

"Look, Danny," I added, "Nick Valentine's in trouble, and we're trying to help him out. If the Mayor tries to lock out Piper again, can you put in a good word for her?"

 

The young man shrugged. "I'll tell him, but no promises if he'll listen."

 

"Fair enough," I agreed, "and thanks."

 

 

Danny flipped the switch for the gate, and the large armored barrier rumbled open. Free to exit Diamond City, we started working our way east just like we'd planned the day before. I'd say we were about half way to the Prudential Center when we ran into trouble. Armed men - raiders I was sure - had set up a roadblock made from corrugated iron and wood planks, and they didn't seem to be in any mood to talk. So... we didn't talk. Instead, Piper and I snuck as close as we could, then went in shooting. 

 

 

I dropped the first raider with two shots from my pistol, then unslung my shotgun and finished off a second who had shot to his feet from behind the wooden barrier. Even as they were hitting the ground, we could hear shouts from below and we realized that we had actually hit the raiders from behind. Their makeshift fortifications were overlooking I-90, and there were clearly more of their friends down on the road.

 

"Let's go," I said to Piper, and we broke away from the raiders, running east as fast as we could go. 

 

 

Soon, the sounds of pursuit faded and we slowed down to a cautious hustle. A while longer and we were under cover of some dense foliage. I paused and checked the map on my Pip-Boy; to my satisfaction, we weren't as far off course as I'd feared. The overgrown green space we'd hunkered down on appeared to be Peters Park, almost dead south of our objective. If we followed Washington Street north, we should have had a straight shot to Park Street Station.

 

The operant word here, of course, was 'should have.' A few blocks down Washington Street, we spotted another roadblock. Believe me, at this point I was really regretting not bringing the power suit. With its abilities and with covering fire from Piper, I'm sure I could have gained the walls and blasted my way through the roadblock. Without it though... there was too much open ground and too many places to conceal shooters.

 

 

Pulling back, we tracked a little bit west and tried our luck with Shawmut Ave. No roadblocks that way, but we heard voices and gunfire down below as we approached the bridge over I-90. That highway, it seemed, was crawling with raiders. We worked our way across very carefully, thankfully screened from the Washington Street position by a large and still mostly intact billboard. Unfortunately, it turned out that everything up to here was the easy part.

 

 

North of I-90, we were in a war zone. If this had been raider territory before, now, the super mutants were contesting that claim, and around every corner there was a gunfight or the signs of a gunfight. At one point, a pair of super mutants on a rooftop almost had us pinned down, but I suppressed them with one of the two hand grenades I had with me and then sprinted north past their position. We had two more encounters with raider groups, each time just putting enough lead in their direction to get them in cover. We didn't stick around for a pitched battle.

 

 

At last, Tremont Street opened up onto Boston Common, and we knew we were almost to the station. Still, I remembered Piper's warning about the Common and we didn't even think of cutting through the park. Instead, we carefully followed Tremont the rest of the way, keeping low to try and avoid the attention of whatever was lurking in the greenery.

 

 

And then, we were there - the entrance to Park Street Station. I wasn't sure what had possessed Nick Valentine to make the trip here, but I figured it was more dangerous to turn back then to press forward, so I knew I was going to get my answer, one way or another. After a moment to catch our breath, Piper and I checked to make sure we had full magazines and then pressed into the station.

 

 

As soon as we slipped inside, we heard voices.

 

"I'm telling you, joining Skinny Malone's crew was the best decision I ever made," a man said from somewhere below. Skinny Malone was the name of the mob boss that Ellie had mentioned, the one who'd turned the station into his base of operations. 

 

"I still say Skinny's weak. Caught that detective snooping around and what does he do? Locks him up!" said a second voice.

 

I glanced over to Piper, who gave me a relieved smile. At least we hadn't come all this way for nothing - Nick Valentine was still alive.

 

Piper and I didn't waste any time trying to sneak around; the confines of the subway station were too tight for stealth, and so we pushed in hard and fast to clear the interior of the station room by room. Malone's gang, the Triggermen, put up a fight, but their resistance was disorganized and we were able to defeat them in detail one encounter at a time.

 

 

The Triggermen made their last stand at the bottom of the station, using the pillars of the boarding platform as cover. For a while, we were pinned down and it looked like we'd have to retreat, but just then I noticed a platform made of plywood boards on the far left side of the platform, connecting the two sides. I leapt out of cover and sprinted for the bridge as fast as I could. A round caught me in the side, staggering me, but thankfully it hit the side panel of my vault suit and didn't penetrate. Still, it took the wind out of me and it felt like it might have cracked a rib. Pushing on, I got behind a rusted out subway car and out of the line of fire. I didn't waste any time and stuck myself with a StimPack right away.

 

As soon as the pain subsided and I got my breath back, I shouted back to Piper, "cover me!"

 

Almost right away I heard her SCAR start to bark and using the distraction I rushed out from behind the car and pushed left to right along the platform, blasting anyone who I could draw a bead on. The flanking maneuver worked, and in seconds all the Triggermen were dead or fleeing.

 

 

Making my way back to Piper, I saw that she was unscathed. Still, I asked, "you okay?"

 

She nodded, "yeah, I see now why they like those SMGs - those guys can't aim for shit, so it's spray and pray all day. What about you?"

 

I pointed at the spot where my suit had stopped the round. "The got lucky one time, but I'm alright. Think that's all of them?"

 

"I wouldn't count on it," Piper said, confirming my own suspicion. "We need to keep an eye out - some of them got away and they might try and ambush."

 

"Agreed. I don't think this is really a 'take it slow' situation, but let's watch those corners."

 

The ones who ran hadn't gone deeper into the station but instead had retreated down one of the subway tunnels. As we closed in, we could see that not far from the platform there were signs of major excavation. 

 

 

"Let me guess," I posed to Piper, "that's where Malone's base is?"

 

She nodded. "Just like Ellie said, there's a Vault down there. Malone and the rest of his men will be holed up inside."

 

"What's to stop them from just closing the door on us and sealing us out?"

 

Piper stopped and considered for a moment. "You know what, I'm not sure. Hopefully they haven't figured out how."

 

What followed was something of a good news/bad news situation. The bad news was that the Triggermen had indeed sealed the Vault to keep us out. Vault 114, by the way. The good news was that the entry panel recognized my Pip-Boy and obligingly opened right back up.

 

 

If what came before was a series of stand-up fights, the progress through the Vault was more of a cat and mouse game. We pressed into the facility quietly but swiftly, sometimes going long stretches in silence, other times blasting our way through small knots of Triggermen holed up in side rooms or watching from overhanging balconies. As we progressed, I came across several computer terminals and briefing books that shed some light onto 114's mission.

 

So, funny thing. Remember how the Vault 81 folks were spreading rumors that we were a fake vault, that we had just appropriated the mission of a different vault? I'm pretty sure that 114 is the one they had in mind. While the mission of 111 was to investigate applications of cryogenic technology, the mission at 114 was to provide luxury accommodations for the most rich and powerful citizens of Boston.

 

Haha, just kidding. That was the official mission. The real mission, the briefing books revealed, was to systematically humiliate the rich and privileged inhabitants while sociologists recorded their reactions. One memo, addressed to the social sciences staff, put it succinctly: do not undermine the Overseer's authority in any way during the experiment, even (and especially) if it may cause physical discomfort, embarrassment, or harm to the residents.

 

Some of the humiliations centered on attacking the rich folks' sense of privilege - random room assignments putting half a dozen people in each bedroom with no regard for relationships, terrible food, menial labor assignments every day. Others were more designs to outrage their sensibilities. Vault 114 got issues the same open-center 'slave suits' (yes, that's what the box called them, and I'm pretty sure even that label was part of the humiliation plan) that Vault 111 had used for its inhabitants, the same wrist-and-ankle O-rings, the same unisex high heels. They even used the Neural Sentry collars to gather biometric data on stress reactions and blood chemistry. If I were one of those Vault 81 folks, I certainly would see some similarities between 114 and 111, and I realized that this might have something to do with their smear campaign against us. I asked Piper to hang on to the hardcopy for me and copied the digital memos to my Pip-Boy; something told me that these would be useful in the future.

 

At last, at the very bottom of the Vault, I found myself standing in front of the Overseer's office. From within, a shadowed figure shouted to me, barely audible through the thick glass.

 

"Hey you! I don't know who you are, but we've got about three minutes until they realize you're down here and their guards ain't coming back. Get this door open!"

 

I took a quick look left and right. The door controls were clearly locked down, with a bright red light on the annunciator panel, but there was a computer terminal nearby. I woke it up with a couple taps on the keyboard and then navigated down to 'security authorization.' When it prompted me for a password, I plugged my Pip-Boy into the side of the terminal and... the door panel flashed green. The scientist I pulled this Pip-Boy off of must have been pretty high ranked, maybe even the chief scientist for 111, considering all the things he had access to. 

 

As the door slid open, the man inside spoke again. "Gotta love the reverse damsel in distress situation. So why did the heroine risk life and limb to save an old private eye?"

 

I shined my flashlight into the room as I entered and found that the man within wasn't quite what I expected. Metal hands, plastic skin, glowing electronic eyes... I was standing in front of a synth. Still, his outfit, and his mannerisms, lined up exactly with how Ellie had described him. And so I answer his question with one of my own.

 

"Nick Valentine, I presume?"