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And another step toward forcing the Brotherhood backward.
Then the Cambridge convoy arrive first at their base, as it were heard before the gates themselves came into view.
The guards on the outer perimeter had been watching the road for several minutes when the lead Humvee finally appeared through the dust.
One of them raised a hand.
"Cambridge convoy!"
The message traveled quickly through the station.
The gates began to open.
Preston's vehicle came through first, followed by the rest of the column. The Humvees were coated in dust and grime from the road, their tires carrying the evidence of the long withdrawal. Some vehicles had visible damage from the fighting, patched temporarily with whatever repairs could be made in the field.
But they had made it back.
One by one, the vehicles rolled into the courtyard.
The soldiers climbed out.
Some stretched stiffly after hours inside cramped transports. Others immediately moved toward the wounded.
"Careful with him."
"Get that stretcher over here."
"Medical team!"
The station quickly became busy again.
The exhaustion was obvious.
These men and women had spent hours under fire, advanced through Brotherhood defenses, fought their way into a major logistical network, loaded whatever supplies they could carry, and then withdrawn while knowing a fresh enemy force was closing behind them.
There was no celebration.
There was simply the quiet relief of being back behind familiar walls.
Preston remained near the center of the courtyard.
He watched the last Humvee enter before turning toward the loaded vehicles.
Several crates were already being removed.
A soldier carried a sealed medical case toward the station's medical area.
Another group unloaded ammunition.
Two engineers carefully removed communications equipment from one of the transports.
Preston called toward one of the logistics officers.
"You."
The officer turned.
"Yes, Commander?"
"I want an exact inventory of everything we brought back."
The officer straightened.
"Understood."
"Separate the ammunition, medical supplies, fuel, weapons, communications equipment, vehicle components, food, and anything else that was recovered."
"Yes, sir."
"And don't guess."
Preston pointed toward the vehicles.
"If a crate is damaged, record it. If something is incomplete, record it. If something isn't usable, I want that written down too."
The officer nodded.
"Understood."
He immediately gathered several soldiers.
"Get the inventory sheets."
Another soldier retrieved a clipboard.
"Open the ammunition crates first."
"Medical supplies over here."
"Communications equipment stays separate."
The courtyard became an impromptu accounting station.
Crates were opened.
Seals were checked.
Containers were inspected.
Labels were compared against their contents.
Some of the Brotherhood markings had been scratched or burned during the fighting, forcing the logistics personnel to identify equipment by appearance and function rather than simply reading the labels.
A soldier opened a long wooden case.
"Rifle components."
"Record them."
Another opened a smaller container.
"Field dressings and medical instruments."
"Medical."
A third pointed toward a stack of sealed containers.
"Fuel."
"Keep those away from the ammunition."
The work continued.
Preston walked among them, occasionally stopping to inspect something himself.
The haul was substantial.
Even after the Republic forces had prioritized what mattered most, the amount of material brought back was greater than anyone at Cambridge had initially expected.
There were ammunition crates.
Medical supplies.
Fuel containers.
Weapons.
Portable communications equipment.
Vehicle components.
Mechanical parts.
Food.
Tools.
Field equipment.
The Brotherhood had accumulated the material with the expectation that it would support military operations for a considerable period.
Now a portion of it belonged to the Republic.
After some time, the logistics officer returned.
He carried several pages in one hand.
"Commander."
Preston turned.
"We've finished the preliminary count."
"Give it to me."
The officer handed over the inventory.
Preston read through it carefully.
The figures were broken down by category, followed by notes on condition and quantities that required further technical inspection.
He stopped at several entries.
"This communications equipment?"
"Mostly operational. Two units suffered damage during transport."
"And the vehicle components?"
"Good condition for the most part. The engineers are checking compatibility now."
"Fuel?"
"Secured."
"Medical?"
"Already being moved toward the medical section."
Preston nodded.
He read the remaining figures.
There was enough ammunition to make a meaningful difference to Cambridge's reserves.
Enough medical equipment to replenish supplies depleted during recent fighting.
Enough spare parts to help keep several vehicles operational.
The captured communications equipment was particularly valuable.
Cambridge had never been overflowing with resources.
Every functioning radio mattered.
Every spare component mattered.
Every crate of ammunition meant one less thing that had to be manufactured, traded for, or transported from elsewhere.
Preston folded the report slightly and reached for his radio.
"Cambridge to Headquarters."
The response came almost immediately.
"Sico here. Go ahead, Preston."
Preston looked down at the report again.
"We're back inside the station."
"Good."
"Wounded are being treated. All personnel accounted for."
Sico's voice softened slightly.
"I'm glad to hear it."
Preston glanced around the courtyard.
"We've also completed the preliminary inventory of the captured material."
"Give me the figures."
Preston began reading.
He went through the ammunition first, followed by medical equipment, fuel, weapons, communications gear, vehicle components, food, and the other recovered supplies.
Sico listened without interrupting.
The only sound coming through the radio was Preston's steady voice and the occasional movement of people in the background.
When Preston finished, there was a short silence.
"Condition?" Sico asked.
"The majority is in good condition."
"Anything unusable?"
"A few damaged communications units. Some vehicle components still need inspection. Nothing that changes the overall value of the shipment."
"Has everything been secured?"
"Yes."
"Documented?"
"The preliminary inventory is complete. The detailed inventory will follow."
Sico considered the information.
Then he answered.
"Keep it there."
Preston looked toward the warehouse buildings.
"All of it?"
"Yes."
There was no hesitation in Sico's voice.
"Keep those supplies for Cambridge Police Station and the forces based there. You've earned the right to strengthen your own position with what you captured."
Preston smiled faintly.
"Understood."
"Just make sure everything is properly stored, documented, and accounted for."
"We will."
Sico continued.
"Medical supplies should be made available immediately for the wounded."
Preston nodded even though Sico couldn't see him.
"Understood."
"Ammunition, fuel, spare parts, weapons, communications equipment as secure it to the storage. Nothing gets left lying around."
"Absolutely."
"And make sure the inventory becomes part of the official logistics record."
"It will."
Sico paused.
"Good work, Preston."
Preston looked across the courtyard at the exhausted soldiers.
"They did the work."
"They did."
The transmission ended.
Preston lowered the radio.
He turned toward the logistics officers.
"You heard the President."
The nearest officer nodded.
"Medical supplies go directly to the medical team."
"Already moving."
"Ammunition and weapons into secure storage."
"Yes, Commander."
"Fuel separately."
"Understood."
"Communications equipment to the technical section for inspection."
One of the engineers raised a hand.
"We'll handle it."
"Vehicle components?"
"Maintenance bay."
"Food?"
"Quartermaster storage."
Preston looked over the courtyard once more.
"Everything gets recorded."
The officers moved.
The station settled into a new rhythm.
The battle was over for the moment, but the work created by the battle had only begun.
Approximately an hour later, another convoy appeared on the road leading toward Sanctuary Hills.
Sarah's force came into view beneath the fading light.
The vehicles looked even more exhausted than the Cambridge column had.
Dust covered the Humvees.
Mud and smoke stained several of their sides.
One vehicle had visible damage along its front section, while another carried emergency repairs that had been made during the withdrawal.
The soldiers inside were tired.
Some had their helmets resting against the sides of the vehicles.
Others stared silently through the open rear doors.
But the column remained orderly.
Sarah rode near the front.
She had spent the entire day moving between command positions, checking reports, directing the advance, organizing the withdrawal, and making certain that nobody became separated when the Brotherhood reinforcements began closing in.
Now Sanctuary was ahead.
The gates opened.
Republic personnel gathered near the road as the first vehicles entered.
"Guide them toward the warehouse."
"Keep the medical vehicles separate."
"Make room for the supply transports."
The convoy moved through the settlement.
Sarah remained with it.
She didn't step down when the first vehicles stopped.
She waited.
The second arrived.
Then the third.
Then another.
Only when the final vehicle had reached its assigned position did Sarah finally climb down.
She stood for a moment beside the Humvee.
Her shoulders were tired.
Her uniform was dusty.
But her attention immediately went to the captured equipment.
Crates were already being unloaded.
Sarah looked toward one of the logistics officers.
"Logistics officer."
The man hurried over.
"Yes, Commander?"
"I want everything counted."
He nodded.
"Understood."
"Every box. Every case. Every container. Every piece of equipment we brought back from that facility."
"Yes, Commander."
"Separate everything by category."
She pointed toward the vehicles.
"Verify the condition. Record what's usable. Note anything damaged or incomplete."
The officer glanced toward the enormous amount of material being unloaded.
"We'll begin immediately."
"I expect you to."
He turned and began assigning personnel.
"Inventory teams over here."
"Move ammunition into the secured section."
"Medical supplies to the examination table."
"Communications equipment stays separate."
"Fuel containers need to be secured."
The warehouse area quickly filled with activity.
Soldiers carried ammunition crates inside.
Others moved medical cases toward a separate section.
Weapons were laid out for inspection.
Communications equipment was placed on tables where Republic technicians could examine it.
Vehicle components were sorted according to type.
Food was counted and recorded.
Spare parts were identified.
Some equipment required cleaning before anyone could determine its exact condition.
Other pieces had Brotherhood markings that technicians carefully documented before deciding whether they could be put into Republic service.
Sarah watched for several minutes.
Then she turned back to the logistics officer.
"When you finish, make it into a proper report."
"Yes, Commander."
"I want complete figures."
The officer nodded.
"Not estimates."
"Understood."
"How soon do you need it?"
Sarah looked across Sanctuary.
Beyond the warehouse, she could see the headquarters building.
Lights were glowing through several windows.
The war room was still active.
Sico would want the numbers.
Not because he was interested in paperwork for its own sake, but because every captured crate had a value.
Every damaged component affected future planning.
Every box of ammunition changed what a unit could carry into its next operation.
"As soon as possible," Sarah answered.
The officer waited.
"I'm reporting directly to Sico."
"Yes, Commander."
He immediately returned to the inventory teams.
Sarah walked away from the warehouse and toward the medical area.
The returning soldiers were being checked one by one.
"Any serious injuries?"
A medic looked up.
"Nothing new. Most of the wounded from the withdrawal are already being treated."
Sarah nodded.
"Everyone accounted for?"
"Yes."
She remained there for another few minutes.
She spoke quietly with several soldiers.
One had a bandage around his arm.
Another had blood dried along the side of his uniform.
A third simply looked exhausted.
Sarah didn't ask them for details.
She already knew what the day had cost.
Instead, she made sure they were receiving what they needed.
Then she returned toward the warehouse.
The inventory was already beginning to take shape.
Rows of recovered equipment were being organized into separate sections.
Ammunition here.
Medical supplies there.
Communications equipment on tables.
Weapons being catalogued.
Spare parts arranged by type.
Food and other provisions stacked neatly.
The Brotherhood insignia remained visible on many of the crates.
Sarah paused beside one.
It was strange to see it inside Sanctuary.
Only hours earlier, the same supplies had belonged to an enemy logistics network that had helped sustain operations across the Commonwealth.
Now they were sitting inside Republic territory.
Not trophies.
Resources.
Sarah understood the difference.
She looked toward the logistics officer.
"How's the count?"
"We've finished the first section."
"Good."
"And Commander?"
"Yes?"
"This is going to take a while."
Sarah gave him a faint smile.
"I know."
She glanced toward the rows of crates.
"Take your time and get it right."
The officer nodded.
"We will."
Sarah turned toward the headquarters building again.
Somewhere inside, Sico was probably still studying the maps.
The operation was over.
But its consequences were only beginning to spread through the Republic.
At Cambridge, captured ammunition was already being moved into storage.
Medical supplies were already helping replenish what the station had used.
Communications equipment was being inspected.
Fuel was being secured.
Vehicle parts were being examined by mechanics.
At Sanctuary, the same process was beginning on an even larger scale.
The Republic had returned with something more valuable than territory.
It had returned with resources.
And perhaps more importantly, it had forced the Brotherhood to look at the Commonwealth differently.
Their supply lines were no longer untouchable.
Their logistical hubs were no longer beyond Republic reach.
Their preparations could be disrupted.
Their resources could be captured.
Their infrastructure could be destroyed.
But Sarah knew better than to mistake one successful operation for victory.
The Brotherhood would adapt.
They would rebuild.
They would strengthen their remaining depots.
They would move supplies through different routes.
They would likely increase patrols and defenses around whatever remained.
The next operation would therefore be harder.
Sarah looked once more at the inventory teams working beneath the warehouse lights.
"Keep going," she told them.
The officer nodded.
Sarah walked toward the headquarters.
Behind her, another crate was opened.
A soldier began counting.
A technician examined a radio.
A mechanic carried a recovered vehicle component toward the maintenance section.
Then several more hours passed before the warehouse finally began to quiet.
The constant movement of soldiers had slowed.
The shouting of inventory teams had faded into occasional conversations between quartermasters and technicians. The sound of crates being opened had become less frequent, replaced by the scratch of pencils against paper and the soft clatter of equipment being placed onto storage shelves.
Under the warehouse lights, everything had finally been given a place.
Ammunition was stacked in secured sections according to type and quantity.
Medical supplies had been separated from general stores and moved into a clean, controlled area where the medical personnel could access them immediately.
Weapons had been catalogued and tagged.
Communications equipment sat on long tables awaiting technical inspection.
Fuel containers had been placed in the appropriate secured storage area.
Vehicle components and spare parts had been sorted according to their likely use.
Food and field provisions occupied another section.
Other recovered equipment, too unusual or incomplete to classify immediately, had been placed aside with notes attached to each item.
The Brotherhood insignia was still visible on many of the crates.
But now there were Republic inventory numbers written beside them.
The logistics officer stood at the center of it all with several pages in his hands.
He looked exhausted.
So did everyone else.
But the work was finished.
He found Sarah near the warehouse entrance.
"Commander?"
Sarah turned.
"Yes?"
"We've completed the final count."
She looked at the folder.
"Everything?"
"Everything we could verify."
He handed it to her.
"The final numbers are included. Damaged items are listed separately, and anything requiring technical inspection has been marked."
Sarah took the report.
She opened it immediately.
The pages were dense with figures.
She went through them carefully.
Ammunition.
Medical equipment.
Fuel.
Weapons.
Communications systems.
Vehicle components.
Food.
Spare parts.
Tools.
Miscellaneous field equipment.
She checked several totals against the notes written beside them.
"Any discrepancies?"
"None that we could find."
"Anything still unidentified?"
"A few components. The technical section is working on those."
Sarah nodded.
"Then keep them secured until they know exactly what they're looking at."
"Yes, Commander."
She closed the folder.
"Good work."
The officer allowed himself a tired breath.
"Thank you."
Sarah looked around the warehouse once more.
The sheer amount of material still surprised her.
They had not taken everything.
They couldn't have.
Some of the Brotherhood equipment had been too large to move. Some had been damaged during the battle. Some had been destroyed during the demolition.
But what remained represented a significant gain.
And more importantly, it had come at a moment when the Brotherhood had expected to use those supplies to sustain its own forces.
Sarah tucked the report beneath her arm.
"Keep everything secured. Nobody removes anything without authorization."
"Yes, Commander."
"And make sure the quartermaster gets a copy."
"He already has one."
Sarah gave a small nod.
"Good."
She stepped outside.
Sanctuary had become almost completely quiet.
The settlement looked different at night.
During the day, it was filled with movement—workers, soldiers, mechanics, traders, families.
Now most of the lights had gone dark.
A few guards walked their posts.
The occasional engine could be heard somewhere beyond the headquarters.
Sarah walked toward Freemasons Republic Headquarters.
Her boots sounded against the pavement.
She was tired in a way that went beyond physical exhaustion.
The battle had demanded concentration for hours.
Every decision had carried consequences.
Every order had meant someone else moving into danger.
She had seen soldiers wounded.
She had seen others carried away.
And she knew that not everyone who had left Sanctuary that morning would return.
She kept walking.
Inside headquarters, the corridors were quieter than usual.
A few officers remained at their desks.
Communications personnel were still monitoring the night channels.
Someone carried a stack of reports past her.
Another officer was speaking quietly with a medical coordinator.
The war had ended for the night outside.
Inside the building, it had simply changed into paperwork.
Sarah reached Sico's office.
She knocked once.
"Come in."
She opened the door.
Sico was behind his desk.
Several reports were spread across it.
The Commonwealth map sat on a side table, still marked with the positions from the day's operation.
He looked up.
"Sarah."
"Mr. President."
"Come in."
She entered and closed the door.
For a moment neither spoke.
Sico's eyes moved toward the folder in her hand.
"The final inventory?"
Sarah placed it on his desk.
"Yes."
Sico picked it up.
He opened the first page.
Sarah remained standing across from him.
"The warehouse team finished the count," she said. "These are the final figures for the Sanctuary contingent."
Sico began reading.
Sarah went through the categories with him.
"The ammunition recovered includes rifle ammunition, heavy weapons rounds, and several sealed containers that haven't been opened yet."
Sico looked up.
"Why haven't they been opened?"
"Technical personnel want to inspect them first. Some of the markings were damaged."
"Fine."
She continued.
"The medical supplies are mostly intact. Field dressings, surgical equipment, medicines, and several sealed medical cases."
Sico nodded.
"Those should be distributed quickly."
"They will."
"Fuel?"
"Most of it is usable. A small portion of the containers were damaged during transport."
"Separate those."
"Already done."
Sarah turned a page.
"We also recovered weapons, portable communications equipment, vehicle components, mechanical parts, food, spare parts, tools, and other field equipment."
Sico continued reading.
"And the communications gear?"
"Much of it appears functional. The technical team is inspecting everything before we connect it to Republic networks."
"Good."
Sarah nodded.
"I don't want unknown Brotherhood equipment plugged into anything important until we understand exactly what it does."
Sico gave a quiet approving nod.
"That was my concern too."
She continued.
"Some vehicle components are in excellent condition. Others need repairs or compatibility checks."
"Keep those under evaluation."
"Understood."
Sico turned another page.
For several seconds, there was only silence.
Then he looked at her.
"That's a considerable amount."
Sarah nodded.
"They built that facility to support a large operational area."
She paused.
"We managed to remove a significant portion before the demolitions."
Sico looked down at the numbers again.
It was easy to see the supplies as numbers.
Crates.
Containers.
Fuel.
Weapons.
Equipment.
But the report represented something larger.
The Brotherhood had spent time and resources accumulating those materials.
Now much of it was sitting inside Republic warehouses.
He placed the inventory beside the other operational reports.
"Make sure the usable supplies go where they can actually strengthen our forces."
"They will."
"Don't let them sit in storage just because we have them."
Sarah nodded.
"Ammunition will go into the appropriate reserves. Medical supplies will replenish the medical sections. Vehicle parts will go to maintenance. Communications equipment will be evaluated for deployment."
"Exactly."
Sico leaned back slightly.
"Damaged equipment stays under evaluation until someone determines whether repairing it is worth the cost."
"Understood."
Another silence followed.
Sarah knew there was something else.
She could see it in his expression.
Sico looked down at the report again.
Then he asked quietly,
"Sarah."
"Yes?"
"How many KIA?"
The room seemed to become smaller.
Sarah's expression changed.
She lowered her eyes for a moment.
"Thirteen soldiers."
Sico didn't move.
Sarah continued.
"We lost thirteen during the operation."
The inventory report remained open between them.
Only minutes earlier, the numbers had represented supplies.
Now the figures seemed almost irrelevant.
Thirteen names.
Thirteen people who had stood in Sanctuary before dawn.
Thirteen people who had climbed into vehicles.
Thirteen people who had followed orders into the Brotherhood defenses.
And thirteen who would not be coming back through the gates.
Sico remained silent.
Sarah watched him.
She had seen him angry before.
She had seen him under pressure.
She had seen him make difficult decisions without hesitation.
But this was different.
There was no anger in his face.
Only the weight of the number.
"The rest of the casualties were wounded," Sarah said quietly. "The medical teams are treating them now."
Sico nodded slowly.
"How many?"
Sarah gave him the figure.
Sico absorbed it without comment.
Then he closed the report.
"Make sure those thirteen are given a proper burial at the Republic graveyard."
His voice was firm.
But subdued.
"They deserve that."
"They'll have it."
"Their families are informed personally."
Sarah nodded.
"I'll make sure the administration handles it."
"They receive the pension they're entitled to."
"Yes."
"Without delays."
"Understood."
Sico looked toward the window.
Beyond the glass, Sanctuary was almost completely dark.
Somewhere in the settlement, families were sleeping.
Soldiers were resting.
Medics were still working.
And thirteen families were still unaware that their lives had already changed.
Sico remained at the window for several seconds.
"They did their duty," he said quietly.
Sarah looked at him.
"The Republic will do ours."
Sarah's expression softened.
"Yes, Mr. President."
Sico turned back toward the desk.
"The names go into the official military records."
"I'll see to it."
"Their belongings?"
"Returned to their families where appropriate."
"Every personal item?"
"Yes."
"Nothing gets lost."
Sarah nodded.
"We'll make sure."
"And the pension payments?"
"Processed as soon as the administration receives the necessary documentation."
Sico looked at her.
"Don't let bureaucracy become another burden for those families."
"It won't."
He nodded.
Sarah stood quietly.
Neither seemed to know what else needed to be said.
Finally, Sico looked once more at the inventory report.
The Republic had gained ammunition.
Fuel.
Medical supplies.
Weapons.
Communications equipment.
Vehicle parts.
Food.
It had damaged the Brotherhood's logistics network and forced them to rebuild.
Strategically, the operation had been successful.
But success did not erase the cost.
Sico had always understood that.
A war could be measured in territory.
It could be measured in supplies.
It could be measured in destroyed vehicles and captured equipment.
But eventually, someone had to count the names.
He closed the folder.
"Thank you, Sarah."
She gave a tired smile.
"You should get some rest."
Sico almost laughed.
"You should take your own advice."
Sarah shook her head.
"I knew you'd say that."
"And yet you said it anyway."
"Someone has to."
For the first time that night, Sico smiled properly.
Only faintly.
Only for a moment.
Then the seriousness returned.
Sarah turned toward the door.
She stopped with her hand on the handle.
"Mr. President?"
Sico looked up.
"Yes?"
"The soldiers did well today."
"I know."
"They held together when things got bad."
"I know."
Sarah nodded.
"They deserve to hear that."
Sico looked toward the door.
"Tell them."
"I will."
She opened it.
"And Sarah?"
She looked back.
"Make sure you get some sleep."
She smiled.
"I'll try."
The door closed behind her.
Sico remained alone.
He sat quietly for several minutes.
On one side of the desk lay the inventory report.
On the other sat the casualty report.
Two documents from the same operation.
One described what the Republic had gained.
The other described what it had lost.
Neither could be ignored.
Eventually, Sico stood and walked toward the map.
The Brotherhood logistical network beside Boston Airport was marked with several red annotations.
Destroyed.
Disrupted.
Captured material recovered.
Routes compromised.
The Brotherhood would rebuild.
There was no question about that.
But rebuilding would require time.
Materials.
Personnel.
Security.
Transportation.
And every resource spent rebuilding that network was a resource they couldn't immediately spend somewhere else.
Sico studied the map.
The operation had not ended the Brotherhood threat.
It had not broken their army.
It had not changed the entire balance of the Commonwealth overnight.
But it had proven something important.
The Republic could reach them.
It could strike their infrastructure.
It could withdraw before being surrounded.
And it could do so while keeping its formations intact.
That mattered.
Still, Sico's thoughts returned to the thirteen.
He looked down at the map again.
"Thirteen," he whispered.
The number stayed with him.
Outside, somewhere in Sanctuary, a vehicle door closed.
A guard called out to another.
A medic walked down a corridor.
Life continued.
It always did.
At Cambridge, the same thing was happening.
The captured supplies were being stored.
Wounded soldiers were receiving treatment.
Mechanics were inspecting damaged vehicles.
Communications specialists were examining Brotherhood equipment.
The station was preparing for whatever came next.
And at Sanctuary, the warehouse lights remained on.
The logistics teams were still working through the final details.
Every crate had to be accounted for.
Every weapon had to be recorded.
Every piece of equipment needed a destination.
The Republic could not afford waste.
Not after what the operation had cost.
Sarah eventually returned to the warehouse.
The logistics officer was still there.
He looked up.
"Commander."
"Everything secured?"
"Yes."
"Good."
She glanced over the organized supplies.
"Tomorrow, the quartermaster begins distribution."
"Yes."
"Technical teams continue inspections."
"Understood."
"And the casualty records?"
The officer's expression became more serious.
"They're being prepared."
Sarah nodded.
"Make sure the names are correct."
"They will be."
She stood there for a moment.
Then she looked toward the rows of captured equipment.
Earlier, the sight had represented victory.
Now she saw it differently.
Every crate had been purchased with resources.
Every weapon had been taken from someone.
Every medical case had the potential to save another Republic soldier.
And every box of ammunition would eventually be fired.
There would be another operation.
There would be another convoy.
Another map.
Another target.
Sarah knew it.
Sico knew it.
Everyone who had spent enough time in the war did.
The Brotherhood would respond.
They would reinforce their remaining positions.
They would move supplies differently.
They would strengthen their patrols.
And sooner or later, they would try to strike back.
Sarah looked toward the dark road beyond Sanctuary's walls.
Then she turned back to the warehouse.
"Lock everything down."
The officer nodded.
"We will."
The final warehouse doors were closed.
Bolts slid into place.
Guards took their positions.
The lights remained on inside the headquarters.
And deep into the night, the Republic continued doing what it had always done after a battle.
______________________________________________
• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-