Chereads / Fallout:Industrial Baron in Caesar's Legion / Chapter 56 - Working in the shadows

Chapter 56 - Working in the shadows

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"You will enter the city and act normally, Legate, posing as a businessman looking to purchase weapons, supposedly to transport them to the northeast due to the growing super mutant presence in the area. Here's your documentation and some bottle caps to give the appearance of wealth," one of the frumentarii said as we rode in a half-destroyed vehicle down a neglected road.

"Todd agreed to have a chat with an envoy from Lord Caesar, under the pretense of borrowing legionaries. This will be your opportunity to talk to him about kneeling before Caesar," another frumentarius continued. "Don't wander around the city too much. You must appear busy and go straight to your meeting with Todd. Remember, agents of the Republic of the Rio Grande are in the area, ensuring the weapon factories don't send equipment to prohibited places like the Legion."

The third frumentarius pointed to a rundown building at the edge of the road, with a garage rusted by time. "We've arrived. Legate, take that motorcycle and change in that building. The clothes you need are ready, along with the documentation. Count on Lord Caesar's blessing in this plan."

Before I got out of the vehicle, I paused for a moment and asked with a mix of surprise and suspicion, "Does Caesar know about the plan?"

The second frumentarius replied calmly, but with the authority characteristic of Caesar's spies. "With all due respect, Legate, we are Caesar's eyes and ears. We report movements directly to Vulpes Inculta, and he informs Lord Caesar personally."

I got out of the vehicle silently, letting the information settle. If Caesar knew, failure was not an option—it was an obligation. This plan had to be executed with precision. The situation was delicate: entering a city under surveillance by the Republic of the Rio Grande, meeting with Todd without raising suspicion.

I glanced at the rusty motorcycle waiting for me in the garage, along with the civilian clothes I needed to wear for the disguise. "Alright," I muttered to myself. The operation had to be flawless. The words I would use needed to be as sharp as the weapons I hoped Todd would agree to supply to the Legion.

I changed into a business suit—fitted but modest—elegant enough to appear as a man of means, but worn just enough to suggest I had been traveling for a long time. The wide-brimmed hat covered my face just enough to avoid drawing attention, while still allowing me to appear confident. I carried a functional-looking briefcase, which contained the documents and bottle caps given to me by the frumentarii, reinforcing the facade of a businessman seeking opportunities.

The dusty, modest motorcycle added to the story of a traveling merchant who had journeyed long distances to get here. The visible weapon in the briefcase and the dust on my suit completed the image: someone seasoned by the road but with enough resources to enter negotiations.

Once everything was in order, I mounted the motorcycle and headed for the meeting point. The road posed no significant difficulties, aside from a few potholes and debris I skillfully avoided. However, one small incident required attention: a group of raiders was scavenging their latest victim. It only took one precise shot to eliminate one of them, and the rest scattered, realizing I wouldn't be an easy target. I didn't linger and continued on my way.

After about an hour of travel, I finally reached my destination: the power center of the Texan Arms Association. The level of control here was evident. Local authorities were inspecting every traveler entering the city, a security measure that highlighted the tense times.

I patiently lined up with the others, watching as some were occasionally arrested for unknown reasons. My turn came at last, and a weary-looking officer gestured for me to approach.

"Good morning, reason for your visit?" he asked in a routine tone.

"Business," I responded without hesitation.

"What kind of business?" he asked again, now examining my documents more closely.

"Buying weapons," I responded with the same calmness.

"Where are you coming from?" the officer asked, raising his gaze to study me more carefully.

"Lone Star, north of Texas," I replied firmly.

"And you came by land? What about the super mutants?" he asked, surprised and visibly intrigued by my statement.

"It wasn't difficult to avoid them—they're not exactly the swiftest or smartest," I said with a calm, almost nonchalant tone.

The officer nodded slowly, as if still processing the information. "I see… Are you carrying any weapons?" he asked again, this time directing a glance at the briefcase I carried.

"A rifle," I replied with the same serenity.

He signaled one of his men to inspect it. Upon opening the briefcase and examining the rifle, the officer noted something and remarked, "You're missing some rounds."

"Bandits on the road. I killed one," I responded calmly, not giving it much importance.

The officer stared at me for a moment, then nodded in understanding. "I'll notify the police. Take your weapon. Proceed with your business; I won't hold you up any longer," he said finally, handing back the rifle and motioning for me to pass through.

I entered the city and moved through the streets calmly. The meeting with Todd was set for 2:00 PM, and I had arrived a little early, leaving me some time before the encounter. I decided not to stray too far from the administrative buildings, staying close to the city center and avoiding drawing unnecessary attention.

As I walked, something caught my eye: there was a surprising number of people begging on the streets. Men and women, some in worn-out clothing, others barely covered in rags, held out their hands for any help they could get. This didn't fit the image I had expected from a city that prided itself on being the power hub of the Texan Arms Association.

Poverty and desperation were clearly present, making me realize that the economic situation in Texas was worse than I had anticipated. With the restrictions imposed by the Republic of the Rio Grande, it was evident that the flow of income from arms sales had drastically decreased, affecting not only the elite of the association but the population as a whole.

Curiosity got the better of me, and despite the frumentarii's advice, I decided to head to the industrial district. I knew it was risky, but I wanted to see firsthand how the weapons factories operated and how controlled the situation was. Keeping a low profile, I made my way through the streets toward the district, avoiding curious glances and blending in with workers who seemed to be coming and going from the factories.

When I arrived, I saw a scene that contrasted sharply with the rest of the city. In the industrial district, several soldiers from the Republic of the Rio Grande closely monitored the loading of supply crates onto trucks. Their presence was imposing, and they seemed alert to any unusual movements. The trucks were carrying shipments of weapons, likely destined for other parts of the Republic or the few clients still permitted to purchase.

As I observed carefully from my strategic vantage point, I noticed something significant: most of the factories still operating were largely autonomous, relying on a series of outdated robots. These old machines had been patched up to keep things running, but it was clear that the production lines were far from full capacity.

Deciding not to linger and draw unnecessary attention, I returned to the city center and waited patiently for the scheduled meeting with Todd Howitzer.

When the time came, I made my way to the headquarters of the Texan Arms Association, an imposing building that dominated the administrative district. Walking confidently up to the reception, I greeted a young receptionist who was busy with some paperwork. Leaning in slightly, I gave her a practiced smile.

"Hello, I'd like to ask if Todd Howitzer is available for a meeting. I'm interested in purchasing some weapons."

The receptionist looked up, clearly surprised by my direct request. "Oh... hi... I'm not sure if Mr. Todd is available. His schedule is usually quite full."

Sensing her hesitation, I decided to apply a bit more pressure, without losing the friendly tone. Leaning in a little closer, I kept my smile. "Could you double-check? I've traveled quite a ways to be here. It'd be a real shame not to meet him."

She hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling slightly over the keyboard as she searched through the schedule. "Let me see... oh... it looks like there's an opening. Would you like me to set the meeting for now?"

"Perfect," I replied, keeping my expression warm. "I appreciate your help."

She nodded, a little more at ease now, and confirmed the appointment. With that, I had secured a meeting with Todd Howitzer.

I took the elevator up to the top floor, where Todd's office was located. Stepping out, I found myself in a long hallway that led directly to his door, but a secretary stopped me before I could approach.

"The boss is a bit busy at the moment... please have a seat," she said, gesturing to a nearby chair.

With no other choice, I sat down, maintaining a calm demeanor while lightly tapping my fingers on the briefcase. Waiting was part of the process.

The silence was broken by muffled shouting coming from Todd's office. Moments later, the door swung open, and an officer from the Republic of Río Grande stormed out, his face red with fury. It was clear that he had just come out of a heated argument. He didn't even glance at me or the secretary as he stormed down the hall.

Taking advantage of the moment, I discreetly stood up and moved toward Todd's office. The door was still slightly ajar from the officer's hasty exit. Just as I reached it, Todd stepped out, looking exhausted. He ripped off his tie with a frustrated gesture and let out a long, tired sigh. He looked like a man at the end of his rope.

I watched him for a moment, knowing this was the perfect time to make my move.

"Mr. Howitzer," I said in a firm yet respectful tone to get his attention.

He looked up quickly, clearly surprised that he hadn't noticed me before. There was still frustration in his eyes, but now there was curiosity too.

"I'm the man you have a meeting with regarding the arms deal," I continued, giving him a controlled smile as I extended my hand.

Todd blinked, seeming to recall the appointment, and nodded. "Ah, right, the arms fella... well, come on in," he said with a thick Texan drawl. "Dorothy, sugar, make sure no one interrupts us, ya hear?" he called out to his secretary before motioning for me to follow him inside.

The door closed behind us, and once we were alone, Todd collapsed into the chair behind his desk, tossing his tie on the desk with a sigh. "Lord almighty, it's been one of them days, I'll tell ya what," he muttered, leaning back in his chair.

"Mr. Howitzer, I understand things must be quite complicated for you at the moment," I began, keeping my tone professional but empathetic. "I've come a long way to speak with you, and I think I can offer a solution that might lighten some of the load you're carrying."

Todd looked at me, sizing me up for a moment before a sly smile crept across his face. "Boy, you sure know how to sweet-talk, don't ya?" he said with a chuckle. "Ya want a whiskey? Got some that's been sittin' in that barrel for fifty years," he said, gesturing to a shelf of bottles behind him.

"Thank you, but no," I replied, keeping my focus on the task at hand.

Todd smirked, leaning back further in his chair. "Shoot, one of them damn Río Grande boys woulda taken me up on it..." he muttered, making it clear he was familiar with dealing with men from the Republic. His demeanor shifted, and his gaze sharpened. "Now, you're with the Legion, ain't ya?"

"True to Caesar," I responded firmly.

Todd nodded slowly, as if he'd expected that answer. There was no surprise in his eyes, just a calculating interest. "Yeah, I figured as much," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "So, what's the Legion want with me? And don't go blowin' smoke up my ass, alright? We're all walkin' a damn tightrope out here, and if you ain't got somethin' real to offer, this conversation's over before it starts."

I leaned forward slightly, matching his intensity. "Mr. Howitzer, I won't waste your time. I know you're under pressure—both from the Republic and from your own people here in Texas. What I'm offering is more than just a deal... it's a chance to shift the balance of power in your favor."

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