"Nick Valentine, I presume?"

 

The synth grinned lopsidedly at me. "The one and only. But you didn't answer my question. What brought you all the way here - and I assume through Skinny Malone's goons - to find me?"

 

 

"Your assistant Ellie, mainly. She's worried about you."

 

"Christ, kid, I wouldn't be much of a private eye if I couldn't tell when someone was dodging my question. What's the real reason you came looking for me?"

 

"Stop teasing him, Blue," Piper whispered. "Just tell him."

 

"OK, fine. But it's really the reason I came to your office and then another reason."

 

"Layers on layers," Nick commented, "do tell."

 

"My baby's missing, kidnapped actually. His name's Shaun. But I don't know who took him, or why. Piper said you could help me find him."

 

 

"Missing kid, huh? Well you came to the right man, if not maybe the right place. And the other reason?"

 

"Word is, you're on Cedric Mansfield's payroll. I'm curious to know why. What's Vault 81 want from this place?"

 

"Let me ask you this, ah, 'blue,' do the words 'client confidentiality' mean anything to you?"

 

"Sure," I said, "do the words 'disclosure in the public interest' mean anything to you? Because if Vault 81 has got you doing what I think they've got you doing, then there's a lot of folks up north who need to know about it."

 

"Disclosure in the public interest," Piper repeated, "I like the sound of that."

 

Valentine sounded less impressed, "those are some real twenty-dollar words you're slinging around there, 'blue.' If that's your real name."

 

I rolled my eyes. "Of course it's not my real name."

 

"Well then enlighten me, and while you're at it, turn around."

 

"Charlotte Ellison. Call me Charley. And sure, I think I know what you're looking for." I obliged him and he grunted acknowledgement.

 

"Yeah, I thought so. Listen Charley, I don't have a stake in your folks issues with Vault 81, and I'm not going to but a client just because you read a few pages in a law school textbook. But if we get out of here safe... well, I'll owe you a favor. And maybe I can help you get the answers you want. But that's all I'm saying for now."

 

"But you're going to help her find her kid, right Nicky?" Piper add.

 

"Of course I will, Piper. Missing persons are my bread and butter. But listen, I've been cooped up in here for weeks. Let's blow this joint and talk about all your troubles back at my office. Oh, and grab those." He gestured towards the Overseer's desk behind him, which was strewn with holotapes. 

 

 

I did as he asked, then followed him out of the office. I followed Valentine as he led me down to the bottom level of the atrium, then he beckoned me to slow down. "Hold on," he said, "I hear some of them coming."

 

I followed him quietly then, preparing my shotgun for any trouble that awaited us. At the bottom of the stairwell, I could hear what he'd picked up on. More goons, moving through the corridors, complaining about how Nick had gotten free. I assumed here must have been some kind of silent alarm on the door.

 

"How do you want to play this?" Nick asked.

 

"I don't think there's any way the three of us can sneak out," I whispered. "We'll go in quiet, but when we have the advantage we take them out."

 

"Oof," the detective said, "you're cold blooded. I'm not judging, it's probably the smart call, but I wouldn't want to be on your bad side."

 

There were three Triggermen searching what looked like a half-finished cafeteria, and when Piper and I burst out of cover we took down two of them quickly. The last one got into cover and put up a bit of a fight, but we circled around and finished him off fast as well. 

 

 

"Hard and loud, huh?" Nick mused afterwards. "Well, 'gets the job done. Too bad for whoever cleans the floors, though."

 

He led the way through the Vault's maze of tunnels, and while we ran into a few more Triggermen, it was always just one or two at a time with no coordinated strategy. Still, my busted rib was starting to hurt again and I was getting short of breath. 

 

"Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys are waiting for us, somewhere. You need to shoot up a StimPak before we move on?"

 

I shook my head. "No, I'll be alright. Just a nasty knock in the ribs from earlier." Still, I took the pause to catch my breath and gulped down some pain relief pills I'd had stashed for a rainy day. Once I felt a little better I asked, "what are we expecting? A hard fight?"

 

"Skinny... the name's, uh, ironic. But don't let him fool you. The man's dangerous. If you can slip out without a fight, or talk your way past him, more's the better. And if you have to fight... don't hold back."

 

And indeed, Skinny Malone, whose name was indeed ironic, was waiting for us along with a bunch of his goons at the entrance.

 

"Nicky, what are you doing?" he asked in mock outrage. "You come into my house, you shoot up my guys, you have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?"

 

 

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your two-timing dame, Skinny," Nick shot back, pointing at the black haired woman standing next to the mob boss. "You oughta talk to her about how a deal's a deal and you don't stab folks in the back over business."

 

"Aw," she cooed, "poor little Valentine. You ashamed you got beat up by a girl?"

 

"If by 'beat up,' you mean locking me in a room after you realized you couldn't knock out a synth by whacking me on the back of my head with your little swatter, then... no, no I'm not ashamed. I'm just embarrassed that I thought I could deal with you because you're shacked up with a class act like Skinny. But obviously he didn't share any of the class with you."

 

Skinny shook his head in what? Disappointment? Dismay? Whatever motivated the gesture he seemed genuinely apologetic when he said, "should have left it alone, Nicky. This ain't the old neighborhood. In this vault I'm the king of the castle, and you don't steal from me. You hear me?"

 

"Do you even know what's on those tapes, Skinny? They're worthless to you."

 

But Skinny just plowed right on, "...and I ain't lettin' some two-bit private dick shut us down when we finally got a good thing going."

 

"Is that what she told you, Skinny? She say I was trying to shut you down? All I was looking for was old records from before the war. God damn human resources files. Don't ask me why the blue suiters wanted them, but I assure you it wasn't for shutting down anything or anyone."

 

Sotto voce, the woman added. "I told you you should have killed him, but you had to get all sentimental with your stupid crap about the old days. And now how many of your boys did he whack? Twenty? And Guido's never going to walk again the way the blew apart his leg." 

 

Clearly annoyed, Skinny hissed back, "Darla, I'm handling this! Skinny Malone's always got things under control."

 

Yup, he was one of those guys. You know, men who talk about themselves in the third person even to their closest friends. Back before the war, that was one of the most reliable predictor of someone being a raging, useless, incompetent jackass. I had a creeping feeling that nothing had changed in two hundred years on that score. 

 

"Oh yeah?" Darla asked, "then what's this lady doing here? Vault 81 sent her here to rub us all out after you nabbed Valentine. And after that, they'll take this vault for themselves. Even if you get away, you'll have nothing."

 

 

I considered her. Her stance conveyed a lot of confidence - and a lot of potential for violence right below the surface. And she wanted to be in charge. I met her eyes, and I could feel her peering back. 

 

"You're right," I said, "I am here to, ah, rub you all out. But you're something special I think. Maybe you and me, maybe we can cut a deal. You got a home to go back to? I bet you do. So don't throw your life away with these thugs. Walk out now before the shooting starts."

 

 

"I... I... you're right!" She blurted out. I could see in her eyes that I'd shaken her confidence, and like a soap bubble as soon as the surface tension broke she shattered. "What am I doing?! I've got all mixed up?"

 

 

As Darla retreated, Skinny looked to Valentine with genuine hurt in his eyes. "Oh come on, Nicky. First you cost me my men... and now you cost me my girl?"

 

"My friend here just did you a favor, Skinny. You always did have bad taste in women," Nick growled back. "Now that she's not here to feed that temper of yours, you'll see sense and let us walk. I really did just come for the stupid tapes. The vault's yours. Besides, you still owe me for two weeks in the hole."

 

"You smug, overconfident ass," Skinny seethed. "Get outa here!" 

 

We didn't wait around, and as we left we could hear Skinny bellowing, "you've got until the count of ten, and if I still see you you're a dead man!" We were gone before he got to six.

 

Once we got out of the station, we became aware of a serious problem. The sun had already gone down.

 

"Well, fuck me," Piper muttered as we considered the darkened streets.

 

 

"We were down there longer than I thought," I conceded.

 

"Will you two stop complaining and follow me?" Nick asked, already fading into the night. Without a good plan to get back, we didn't have much choice. To my concern and Piper's great dismay, he led us right through the center of Boston Common.

 

"Ah, Nick?" I asked, "isn't this the death trap zone that no one comes back from?"

 

"Only if you step in the wrong part," he whispered back. "Now shush and follow me, quietly."

 

True to his word, Nick got us safely through the Common and then led us down Boylston Street before cutting across to Newbury. He stopped there, looking up into the night sky.

 

"Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky," he opined. "Never thought anything so naturally ominous could look so inviting. Thanks for getting me out. How did you know where to find  me, anyway?"

 

"Your secretary, Ellie. She sent me."

 

Nick seemed pleasantly surprised. "She did? I should give her a raise."

 

"Damn straight you should," Piper interjected. "She's practically your mother and you pay her peanuts."

 

"Whoa, whoa, settle down, comrade. I'll have you know that I compensate her very generously. Still, there's always room for some extra appreciation. But you mentioned something about your son Shaun, and how he want missing."

 

I looked left and right. "Nick, are we really going to do this interview here in... the middle of Newbury Street? In the dark?"

 

"Sure, why not. Strike while the iron's hot, right? But fine, I see you're not comfortable. In that case, I want you to come to my office in Diamond City. Give me all the details. Besides, you've earned a chance to sit down and clear your head. And, I haven't forgotten that I owe you a favor. I think I've worked out a solution to your Vault 81 question that doesn't violate client confidentiality. Or at least, and opportunity for you to solve your Vault 81 issues."

 

"Lead the way, Nick," I said with a nod of my head westward. "I think I trust you to navigate these streets more than I trust myself at this hour."

 

"All right, but we need to move fast. Follow me and don't fall behind."

 

 

What followed was a mildly terrifying dash through the dark streets of ruined Boston, including one incident where we found ourselves shaking off the pursuit of a pack of wild dogs. But Nick steered us around the raider camps and super mutant war parties and got us back to Diamond City more or less in one piece. Danny had no problem opening the gates for Valentine, and just before midnight we descended the stairs into the settlement. I was just admiring the fact that so many of the floodlights were still working after all this time when one of the DC Security guys stopped me.

 

"Hey, you were in the paper," he said. "You're 200 years old? Looking pretty good for your age!"

 

My mind boggled a little and I glanced over at Piper. "How exactly am I 'in the paper' already? You just interviewed me yesterday."

 

 

"Two days ago now, technically," Piper said, "but um... after that nice nap we had I couldn't sleep, so I wrote up the article overnight and left it with Nat. Looks like she got it printed in time for yesterday's edition."

 

"Sounds like it isn't just Ellie who needs a pay raise. But I want to see this article after we talk with Nick."

 

Piper gave me a huge grin. "Of course," she said, "you're going to love it."

 

We slipped into Nick's office to find Ellie waiting for us. They exchanged some murmured pleasantries before she backed up and looked at him with a hard expression. "You keep laughing at death, Nick, some day it's gonna laugh back."

 

Slowly he drawled, "not as long as I've got a few friends to back me up. Thanks for sending help, Ellie. I'd got myself into... a bit of a pickle."

 

 

Then Ellie turned to me with a grateful smile. "You saved Nick, this agency, and my job. Thank you."

 

"Happy to do it," I answered. 

 

"Yeah? Go diving into scary pre-war ruins all the time, then, do ya? Listen, I know we didn't put a reward on the table, but you deserve something." She offered me a rumpled hat, an old fedora like you'd see in a detective movie. Just Nick's style. As I took it, I could also hear the jangle of bottlecaps inside. I guess I got a little cash bonus, too.

 

 

"Is this one of Nick's hats?" I asked.

 

"It's your hat, now. And if you don't mind putting it on from time to time, I bet Nick would be happy to have your help with some of his cases. Hell, he could use a new partner."

 

I kind of blushed a little at that. Under the circumstances, that was about the highest compliment Ellie could give me. But the meaning of the words wasn't lost on me, and I challenged her, "I think Nick already has a partner, doesn't he? One who really saved his bacon just recently."

 

"You're sweet," she said, "but my job is behind a desk. I mean someone who can hit the streets with him. Just think about it. Maybe once you find your son."

 

"Ha, I wish it were so easy, I don't think I'll have the luxury of a side hustle for a while. But I appreciate the offer and I won't forget it."

 

Nick evidently felt that we'd spoken long enough, interrupting with an ornery, "if you hens are done clucking, I've got some business to conduct with Ms. Ellison here."

 

"Charley," I corrected. "Don't Ms. Ellison me."

 

"Fine, let's get down to business. Take a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair by his desk.

 

 

"When you're trying to find someone who's missing, the devil's in the details. So tell me everything, no matter how painful it might be."

 

And that's how we spent the wee hours of April 13th, 2288. I started with the day the bombs fell, and while I glossed over a lot of the abuse that happened there I explained the broad strokes of what Vault-Tec used their facility for. I told him about the terrifying incident where I was awake but trapped in the cryo pod as a man callously gunned down Nate and took Shaun away. And I told him what had happened since, right up until Trashcan Carla insisted I take some time off to search for Shaun.

 

It was a tough conversation, but Nick managed to keep me on track, walking the line between too clinical and too empathetic. He drew out a number of little details I hadn't really been fully aware of until he got me talking about them, and slowly he started to string together some conclusions.

 

 

"So..." he said at length, "we're talking about some real cold-blooded killers, one one hand. But on the other, they waited until they had no other choice to resort to violence. Professionals. Probably a small team, more people than you witnessed but not many more. And they called you, the backup. I don't know what that means, but I've got a feeling its significant."

 

 

His electric eyes peered into my own for what felt like a long time. But it was, like the old saying goes, 'the space of seven breaths.' Just a few seconds. "More to the point, why your family in particular? There were other people in the vault, weren't there?" 

 

I remembered the frozen bodies in the pods, callously shut off once Vault-Tec had finished their work, and I nodded. "Yes, there were some, but not all of them survived the experiments. I'm really not sure... maybe we were the only survivors by then. I'm sorry, Nick, I just can't say."

 

"You told me that your people took control of the Vault after you woke back up. Do you think there might be records there?"

 

"Maybe," I conceded.

 

"Alright, this isn't a 'drop everything' kind of thing, but when you go back there, try and find out how many people were still alive when they took your son. It might be relevant to understanding their motive. But I think there's another angle here - whoever took Shaun, they'd be taking on all his care. And a baby needs a lot of care. There might be other witnesses, maybe unwittingly helping the kidnappers. That's another angle we can work. But more to the point, I'm pretty confident this isn't a random kidnapping. Everything points to whoever took your kid having an agenda."

 

"There's a lot of groups in the Commonwealth that take people - super mutants, raiders, the Gunners, you name it. And of course, there's the Institute."

 

 

 

"I feel like you're about to tell me that you think the Institute took Shaun."

 

"Yeah, and don't you chime in your two cents here Piper, but of all those groups, they're the ones who are picky. They take specific people for specific reasons, not like the others who just grab anyone who's convenient. But here's the rub: they're the boogeyman of the Commonwealth. Something goes wrong? Everyone blames them, usually starting with the Wright sisters."

 

Piper grunted her displeasure at Nick's characterization but didn't say anything.

 

"So..." I finished his line of thought, "if this was a professional kidnapping, they might be counting on us assuming the Institute was behind it, to throw off their scent."

 

"Yeah, exactly. Listen, I'm a synth myself and I know next to nothing about the Institute. No one knows where their base is located, no one knows who runs the damn thing. No one knows if there are even any humans there or if its all synths from top to bottom. So we need to start by knowing the people who took your son. Whether they're with the Institute or someone else, we need describe the suspects. So tell me everything you know."

 

We dove back into my deposition. I told them about the woman in the hazmat suit, the man with the cybernetic arm, every detail I could remember about the both of them. When I told him about the man's face, and the distinct scar he had, Nick practically reared back in his chair.

 

 

"Wait," he said, "it couldn't be... does the name Kellogg mean anything to you?"

 

"I assume you don't mean the cereal company."

 

"No, I don't. Never mind for now, it's way too big a coincidence."

 

Ellie however leaned in. "Are you sure, Nick? The description matches the Kellogg case to a 't.' Bald head, the facial scar, the prosthetic arm. Mercenary by trade."

 

"Yeah, but no one knows who he works for, so even if it was Kellogg, that's where our trail ends."

 

"But he bought that house in town," Ellie pressed. "There could be physical evidence there. And he had that ten-year-old boy with him. Maybe there's some connection?"

 

"Maybe it's another kidnapped kid," I suggested.

 

"Yeah, either that, or its Kellogg's son. Not really comforting in either case. Both of them vanished a while ago. Let's you and I take a walk over to Kellogg's last known address, shall we?"

 

We made our way through the predawn gloom up into the west stands, which was more or less the slums of Diamond City. When we got to Kellogg's old place, Nick had me keep watch while he picked the lock. As he worked, he told me more.

 

"I didn't want to say it while Ellie was listening, but you should know that everything I found out about Kellogg during the investigation was bad news with a capital 'B.' Your description fits him almost perfectly, and he's the kind of professional who could pull off a job like that. But you need to understand that if Kellogg was involved, you may still be in danger. You need to put some careful thought into your own security arrangements."

 

 

Then, muttering to himself, he said "that's one heck of a lock. Got something to hide, Kellogg?"

 

At length, he conceded defeat. Nick walked to the edge of the nearby railing and pointed to a spot a little bit above the main Diamond City entrance. "See that platform in the distance? That's the elevator to the mayor's office. I'm going to go pay him a visit and see if I can't get a warrant to search this place. If McDonough gives me the green light, we'll be inside in now time. You, meanwhile need to get some rest. You can't pull all-nighters the way I can. And in the morning, I've got a little chore for you to do."

 

"A chore?" I asked, a little confused.

 

"Yeah, a chore. And repayment of my debt to you. While I work this case, I need you to take those holotapes down to Vault 81. You can hand them off to Cedric Mansfield and maybe clear the air with the folks over there. Something tells me their beef with you is a misunderstanding, but that's all I can say without crossing any lines."

 

"Are you sure you're OK on your own?"

 

"OK?" he asked, laughing, "I'm better off without you. You're associated with Piper Wright, and Piper Wright's associated with trouble. McDonough hates her guts."

 

"True," Piper chimed in.

 

"But McDonough's got no issues with me. Let me work the bureaucracy. You won't regret it."

 

I was about to argue with Nick, but it suddenly struck me that I was practically asleep on my feet. So I gave in without much further griping and Piper bundled me off to crash on her couch. The thought crossed my mind that I'd be a lot more comfortable in her bed, but even that was too much effort for me and before I knew it I was fast asleep.