I had been talking to Mr. Tenpenny on his balcony. We had been up since 6:00am and after breakfast we looked out on the horizon when Mr. Tenpenny held the glass of whiskey away from his mouth and whilst looking out on to the wasteland, never breaking his gaze, he said, "Burke my dear fellow, what is that hideous eyesore in the distance?"
I looked to where his eyes were aimed at and replied, "That's Megaton. It's a scrapheap made in the crator of an unexploded atomic bomb. There's a few people living there but they're not worth anymore than the scrap metal they live in."
He mumbled an inaudible reply. I knew this was going to trouble him so as I aim to make my employer happy I got thinking about the job in hand.
It didn't take long to figure out, though I waited till the next day to tell Mr. Tenpenny of my plan. I knew it would be offending him, that mess on the horizon, so I purposefully waited and avoided him so as I could tell him what I was going to do about it so as to milk him for it later without running the risk of having him tell me that he gave me the job.
When I told Mr. Tenpenny of my plans he was elated; we, along with that fool Gustavo, started working on the logistics and the detonation. It didn't take too long, Tenpenny just mumbled in agreement now and then and I just told Gustavo what I was going to do and what I wanted him to do. The detonator was easy enough, there are some fine engineers in Tenpenny Tower - that's why they're allowed in - and the caps weren't a problem as Allistair Tenpenny is hardly strapped for caps.
The walk did not take all that long, just a few hours along the wasteland. Gustavo wanted me to have an escort but I "persuaded" him otherwise; I didn't get to the position I'm in now without being able to look after my self, not to mention that I'm a damn site more trustful (to Mr. Tenpenny) than that gun-toting clown.
The walk however was not entirely un eventful. I left at dawn - I knew I was less likely to run into a Deathclaw at dawn when the sun is cooler, but I still knew the risk of Yao Guais and feral ghouls etc. It was still fairly dark, the dust had not yet settled from the previous night's wind, and I was having a hard time to see in detail. However, I did catch a glimpse of movement. Raiders. They weren't far off - the dust must have obsured their eyesight more than mine as they paid no attention to me as I crept closer. Chances are they were still half drunk or at least suffering from the nights drinking. "Fucking wasters," I muttered to myself. They still made no sign that they knew of my presence, but still I didn't want to take too many chances. I hid behind a reasonalbe sized boulder about 40 yards from them, close enough to take a shot but far enough to retreat safely if necessary.
I drew my silenced pistol; checked it was loaded; made sure a round was in the chamber. In my right hand the grip, my index finger resting gently on the trigger, my left hand supporting my right, gripping the butt of the pistol. I rested against this rock to steady the shot, aimed at the nearest raider, fired. The sound of the bullet leaving the barrel was almost unpercievable; the raiders didn't hear it, that's for sure. As the round struck home, carving a hole in the back of the girl's head, time seemed to slow, you could almost see the round doing it's job. First was the inital impact, then the head tilted violently up and the body toppled forward, the head hitting the ground last. No-one noticed. I fired again, this time at one of the larger of the group. He was wearing a pair of goggles, though they offered little protection. The round hit home right between the eyes, the goggles broke off in two and a crimson plume sprayed out. Time did not slow this time. The raiders were now well aware that something bad was happening to them and they didn't like it. One came running towards me with a knife in hand and apparently his did not know the saying people who use knives get shot... straight through his throat. Still confused the final raider ran. I din't bother to waste a round on him as by that time he'd gotton just out of range.
I continued on.
I sat in that dank wretched pit surrounded by poverty and scum. I bought a house upon arrival and my time was split between the house and Moriarty's bar. That Irish barkeep maybe be as bad as the rest of them but he has cigarettes, whiskey and of course he has Nova.
It was about five weeks until the wanderer walked in...