For those of you who know me, I am soooo sorry that I've gone so long without posting another chapter of One Way Flight. I apologize for that, truly, but grad school is a royal pain in my ass, to say nothing of all the other crap that's been going on. I haven't abandoned that story, don't worry. I just needed to get this idea out of my head ASAP because… well because this is a bloody awesome idea with enormous potential. It's not a crossover or a multiverse fic. Just straight-up Fallout the way we all love it.

Now for those of you who don't know me… you have nothing to worry about. Like I already said, this isn't a part of my multiverse series. It's a one-shot that may someday become more if it's well-received. That said, you guys are more than welcome to read my other stuff, but it's nothing like this at all.

With introduction and apologies out of the way, let's get this going. On with the show!

Summary: Nathaniel "Nate" Reese wasn't just any soldier at Anchorage. He was THE soldier at Anchorage. The man who killed General Jingwei is now the Sole Survivor of Vault 111. And he is very, very angry.

Spoilers: Operation Anchorage and Fallout 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing. *turns around and yells* Now get your lawyer out of my house Bethesda!

Nuclear Winter Soldier

The Raiders at Corvega were riding on the high of chems and victory after their third caravan raid in the past month. Better still, there was talk of a fourth group coming through in a few days! This was just too good!

"Hahaha! Jackpot!" a scum yelled as he took another hit of psycho. "They just keep coming!"

One of the veterans laughed while sharpening her knife. "Heard that the next caravan has a guy with a cool hat or some shit. Boss wants it something bad."

"Damn," whined another of the chem-addled scums. "I want a hat!"

"You have a gas mask, you little shit!" the veteran yelled back. "What are you bitchin about?"

The scum opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by the sound of muffled gunshots coming from outside.

"The fuckin' hell was that?" someone asked. Nobody knew who and the strung-out psychopaths didn't care enough to answer. Instead the Raiders grabbed their guns and started sweeping for intruders. Whoever was stupid enough to come onto their turf, they'd hunt 'em down and kill 'em.

Just one problem…

BANG

A single well-placed shot blew the head clean off a scum.

BA-BANG

Two more shots. Two more dead Raiders.

They weren't doing the hunting.

More shots, always from a different position and always fatal.

Someone – something – was hunting them.

BARK-BARK!

And it was very.

BANG… BANG.

Very.

SCHLUK

Angry.

SNAP

In less than ten minutes practically every Raider was dead. Mostly headshots. Some had their necks snapped. Others had their throats slit… or ripped out by that dog. Yes, there had been a dog… always prowling around until its devil of a master gave a shrill whistle. Then the beast would jump in, scatter their ranks, and dash away before anyone knew what had happened.

"What the fuck are you?!" Jared screamed at the killer he couldn't see. He'd gone from the boss of the Raiders at Corvega to the last one still alive. "I know you're in here somewhere." No response. "If you're so damn tough, why keep hiding like a bitch?!"

Jared heard that damn dog growling behind him and spun around to put the mutt down. Instead he was met with a fist to the face. As Jared recoiled, the mysterious killer grabbed him by his dominant arm and snapped it like a twig. Now with a broken nose, broken arm, and no hope of fighting back, the Raider boss just looked up at the nightmare that had slaughtered his entire gang.

Just over six feet tall, piercing icy-blue eyes, and a scar across the left cheek. Like he'd been sliced by a sword. He was well-built, not bulky like the raider psychos he'd just finished butchering, but solid and definitely strong. His armor was a clearly customized set of leather and metal for the perfect combination of flexibility and protection. And on his left arm…

There was a Pip-Boy. Oh shit, not another one!

"You heroes just don't get it, do you?!" Jared yelled. The man still remained silent. "How many times have you pricks kept showing up, huh? West Coast, East Coast, it don't mean shit! You keep crawling outta your vaults and no-name homes with big dreams of 'saving the Wasteland' with those little bracelets on your arm. But no matter what you do, there will always be more Raiders. Always! Hahaha-argh!"

Jared's ranting was brought to a painful halt when the "hero" grabbed him by the throat and picked him up off the ground as if he didn't weigh a damn thing. The "hero" glared at Jared before dropping him on the floor once more. Then, finally, he spoke.

"I saved this world once already. Two hundred years ago."

"What are you… talking about?" Jared choked out, clutching his throat with his good hand.

"But I ain't here for the world anymore," the man continued, as if Jared had never spoken. He reached into the satchel on his back and pulled out a can of turpentine. As he emptied its contents all over the Raider boss, he spoke again. "Just here for one person."

Jared's eyes widened in fear. Turpentine was flammable, and he was now soaked in it. "Then why-"

"And until I find him, I'm gonna kill every bastard that gets in my way." He pulled out a zippo, tossed it at Jared and walked away.

"AAAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!"

The Sole Survivor left the blood-soaked Corvega factory with Dogmeat at his side. War never changes, he thought. Even in this hell, everyone's fighting and clawing for scraps, just like before.

Nathaniel "Nate" Reese wasn't just any veteran. He was the veteran that killed General Jingwei with the bastard's own shock-sword. Before that, he'd led countless strikes against the Chinese in Alaska, killing them by the dozens. If he was willing to butcher the enemies of his country, what would he do to the enemies of his family?

All of Boston would soon find out…

Yes, I am fully aware that General Constantine Chase was delusional when he came up with the Operation: Anchorage simulation. That said, the male Sole Survivor was an American soldier in Alaska, so this is just a "what if" scenario where that simulation in Fallout 3 was actually the story of the male Sole Survivor before the bombs fell.

If anyone wants to take this and roll with it, or if you want me to continue this with more one-shots, just say the word! I only wanted to get this crazy idea out of my head and onto the internet so I could get back to working on One Way Flight

And I promise to all my readers that I'll have that next chapter of One Way Flight for you… relatively soon. I swear I'm doing my best here, but reality doesn't want to cooperate. Until then, you know the drill:

Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Just don't talk about about One Way Flight in your reviews here! I've got a PM inbox for that.