![]() He looked down at the pip boy strapped to his wrist. This country did seem easier to defend against outsiders. Missoula had five wide open valleys under the Big Sky, but here the terrain was rougher, the valleys much narrower. Just a river snaking around the winding interstate and heavily wooded mountains on all sides. There was no immediate difference as far as he could see. Special Agent Jeremy Rook looked out the window at the passing scenery as if expecting to find something different in the scenery that gave voice to the unease of captain Whitehorse. ![]() Roy had the supervisory capacity for this operation. “What's it supposed to mean?” Assistant Special Agent in Charge Louis Roy III (or three sticks as he was better known) asked the captain. He was also a walrus of a man with a large frame (but still mostly in shape) fat jowls, and one hell of a Walrus mustache. The speaker was Captain Earl Whitehorse of the Northern Commonwealth Highway Patrol and the local with the most seniority on this bus. “Welcome to Mineral County, you know what that means.” The older man warned, in a tired voice that was to say the least lacking in zeal. Synopsis: A man with only fragmented memories of a another world through other lives scrambles to prepare for the bombs.
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