Fallout 4 Mercenary Novels & Stories

“The stronger the wolf, the more mates they can sustain bonds with. Four mates means you’re much more powerful than anyone knows.” Despite the indignation that coursed through me—having a fourth mate felt like a curse, not a blessing—part of me was curious about what this mysterious fourth mate might be like. Was he another cocky asshole like Lucas? Another brooding jerk like Rowan? Or something else entirely? But mostly, I just hoped I never ran into him. Three mates were already more trouble than I knew what to do with. “Can we continue training?” I asked. “I want to get stronger so I can figure out how to deal with the Elders.”

When we finally pulled up to the reinforced safehouse — a concrete building that looked like an old warehouse from the outside but was a fortress inside — my men were already waiting. The second I stepped out of the car, every head bowed. “Boss,” they murmured in unison, their voices low and respectful. They barely had my attention. I kept my hand on Aiden's back as I guided him through the heavy steel doors, past the armed guards. “Boss,” one of my lieutenants started as we passed the main operations room where more men were gathered. “We have updates—” “I’ll be right back,” I cut him off sharply. “Give me five minutes.”

"And then?" "Then I unfreeze two million dollars," I stated, a cold, lethal determination settling into my bones. "We hire a private mercenary squad. Humans who don't care about pack politics, equipped with silver ammunition and military hardware. We secure the finances first. Once the money clears, we go back for Alder. And we make this right.”

He stood perfectly still at the edge of the breach, his breathing slow and controlled. A metal grappling hook shot up from the darkness, the heavy prongs biting viciously into the remaining marble floor. A thick tactical rope pulled taut. Someone was climbing up. Fast. Stay down, Julian commanded without looking back at his family. Do not make a sound. A black-gloved hand clamped onto the edge of the hole. A man in full tactical armor hauled himself over the lip, a suppressed submachine gun slung across his chest. The mercenary wore a night-vision apparatus that completely obscured his face. He expected to find terrified victims cowering in the dark.

A mercenary in heavy armor reached inside, grabbing the silver briefcase. "Package secured!" the mercenary yelled through his radio. Despite their efforts, the mercenaries secure the EMP briefcase yet again and vanish in an armored convoy. Marcus let out a roar of absolute fury, but his body wouldn't obey. He could only watch through his fading vision as the heavy armored vehicles sped away into the thick night fog, leaving behind a trail of burning metal, smoke, and blood.

Jonah sent a single thumbs up emoji that made my chest ache. I should call them. I will. Just not right now. The car slows and I look up. There’s a gate ahead, tall and iron and imposing, the kind that makes it very clear you’re not supposed to be here unless someone specifically invites you. Stone pillars on either side with the name ‘Petrova’ carved into them in elegant letters. The gate starts to open before we even reach it, sliding apart smooth and silent like it knows we’re coming. We drive through and the road changes from asphalt to gravel, the sound of it crunching under the tires filling the quiet car.

When Ves logged into Iron Spirit, he visited the support section in order to register a free virtual license. The game charged a lot of credits for the virtual license of the The Marlin Solutions 1004-HRF 5th Generation armor plating. Considering that anyone could make a living if they designed and sold even a halfway decent mech, the prices weren't unreasonable.

''I thought that dude was put to death after the Tony's murder case. Miriam looked in Ben's direction and kept mute while she listened out for more from Ben's reaction. ''Oh-oh, wait, I think I got this figured out,'' he said anxiously, ''you mean Jack's ghost has been roaming the town making meat of people?'' ''But Jack's not dead. He was hijacked by some mafias from team 404 on their way to execution through the Gobi dessert.'' ''Oh-oh, that son of a gun!'' Ben remarked startled . ''He probably arranged his own kidnap. Let me get this straight; he murdered Kasidy in that hotel?''

"They're waiting for us at the designated coordinates. Want to go meet our mysterious benefactor?" I stood, checking my concealed weapons with practiced efficiency. "Let's go." (Third-person's POV) The seven mercenaries emerged from their hidden bunker, moving through the forest with the silent coordination of predators. Their steps made no sound on the forest floor, each member maintaining perfect spacing and awareness. Through the trees ahead, two figures came into view. An impeccably dressed young man stood beside a small boy who was oddly occupied with a dead mountain goat. "Well, would you look at that," Marcus murmured appreciatively. "Kid's got hunting instincts."

"You're Jason Leigh, right? Human resources informed me that you're only a high school graduate. Do you really understand all this?" "I used to be a mercenary," I corrected him in a calm but clear voice. Tony was taken aback, but he quickly laughed out loud. His laugh was so loud that it echoed throughout the workshop. The people standing next to him laughed along. "What's a mercenary doing here as a stockkeeper? Who would believe you, Leigh?"