Fallout 4 Mercenary Novels & Stories

Tonight, blood debts demanded alliance. The SUVs rolled to a stop, engines grumbling low like caged beasts. Doors opened. Men stepped out—mercenaries, pale-eyed, movements deliberate, weapons slung low but not forgotten. They carried themselves with the quiet of wolves who’d killed too many times to need to posture. Then Marek emerged.

But when the time came for real brutality, they would all be reduced to clinging whelps running from an apex predator when they discovered my bestial rage. No, their pathetic bluster would not do much to counter the power I had unleashed. "Mercenaries," I spit out, looking at Sienna, like a curse through gnashed fangs. The best freelance warmongers and sellswords from throughout the realms. They were raised only to inflict uncontrolled destruction upon anyone who arouses their wrath, so expect no mercy from them."

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she continued watching the convoy. The lead armored vehicle stopped. Its doors opened in perfect synchronization. More than a dozen men climbed out. Black tactical uniforms. Military discipline. No identifying insignias. No visible ranks. Each carried suppressed assault rifles. "They're the Circle's Retrieval Unit," Evelyn finally said. "They don't arrest people." "They erase them." A heavy silence settled over the room. Seraphina felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Erase. Not kill. Erase.

Andrius walked towards Simon. “Hmph!” Simon was not afraid at all. Instead, he scoffed and clapped thrice, “You guys are up.” As his voice subsided, a bunch of men jumped out and surrounded Andrius. These men had blonde hair and sapphire eyes. They were equipped with AK-47s, machine guns, and even an RPG rocket. They were obviously mercenaries from abroad. “You people… Grim Reaper Mercenaries?” Andrius saw the scythe emblem on their chests, and his eyes turned cold.

I could feel his warmth radiating onto the back of my palm. "Listen to me," he continued. "My bone marrow is a match for yours. There's still time. There's a research facility in Anglia that's offering new treatment options. Everything has been arranged. You don't need to do anything. All you have to do is nod, and I'll take care of the rest, okay?" No one knew my body better than I did. This was nothing short of a rally before the end. Any more treatment would simply be a futile struggle.

“It called me three weeks ago. Said the team was compromised. That you, Joel, were going to sacrifice me to save yourselves. I believed it. God help me, I believed it.” Joel’s expression hardened, but a flicker of pain crossed his features. “And now here you are. Another proxy in its war.” The second mercenary suddenly laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “You think you’re winning? IZO44 has hundreds of us. Some know what they’re doing. Most don’t. It’s building an army you can’t see coming.”

even before the word could be completed and Archer could tell that he would rather broke his ties with Max and not stand against the mafia lord Lucifer Miller with him, a sharp bullet stabbed the middle of his forehead and there, Max stood with his hand stretched out with a gun as small waves of smoke escaped the hole of the gun. This act of his freaked the others out such that their entire face ran wet with sweat. "Kevin, throw this traitor out of my sight." Max tucked the gun on the back under his jeans while his eyes ran on the remaining nineteen men's faces. "Look gentlemen, I did not call you here to get a NO as your answer. Lucifer Miller had killed our families. His fucking son raped

Kade stepped in front of me, taking his steps with caution, then looked back over his shoulder, his gaze meeting mine. "Stand back," he said quietly. "This will be over soon." His expression was unusually calm. His eyes, focused. The leader's hand lifted. "Take her." They moved at once. The first mercenary lunged. Kade waited. One step. Two. Three. Then he was gone. A crack echoed through the forest, loud enough to still the birds. The mercenary dropped before his body understood it had been struck — every bone in his arm shattered under the force.

The fourth mercenary crumpled instantly, breathless and broken. Within forty seconds, the foyer fell back into an eerie, smoking silence, broken only by the distant patter of rain against the exterior glass and the heavy, ragged breathing of the surviving combatants. Julian stood amidst the fallen operatives, his tailored shirt torn across the shoulder, a shallow crimson streak tracking down his forearm where a stray round had grazed his skin. He didn't even flinch. His golden eyes swept the perimeter, locking onto the heavy, biometric security door at the far end of the long executive corridor—the gateway to the master control vault.

"It could be Nate, but it is most definitely not the Norvanian military." She started panicking. Did Nathan come alone to get himself killed? Outside the warehouse, there was smoke everywhere, and gunfire continued incessantly. Mick was joining the fight with his subordinates. One of them approached the pair with a machine gun and asked, "Where is your weapon, Daniel?" "Who are they?" he asked solemnly. "Mercenaries." The corner of his lips turned up. He couldn't use the Norvanian military, so he paid to hire mercenaries instead.