Abner’s eyes flicked between the two men as they talked, silently following the conversation. The more he heard, the more he distrusted this Van Cleef guy. Could be a commie traitor, for all they knew. And they were going to hire him? They’d at least re-educate him first, right? He wasn’t allowed to question his superiors, but he did have to question their decision just a little bit. Just about this.

Miller, on the other hand, was technically okay. It was a shame he hadn’t done the patriotic thing to serve his country, but as long as he was human it should be fine. Maybe being a merc was a decent strategy, spreading the Enclave’s agenda to the wastelanders.

It hadn’t occurred to Abner that, maybe, Miller didn’t follow the Enclave’s agenda in the first place.

His stance relaxed slightly now that he was confident his superior wasn’t about to get attacked. It seemed their conversation was coming to an end anyway, with Anderson writing something down in his little notebook, Miller making some sort of cryptic comment about good men. It was no surprise that the lieutenant was a good man, judging by the misguided way he’d been treating Abner. It was a surprise when the mercenary finished by making pointed eye contact with him. It felt like he knew something, like he saw through the carefully constructed mask to the broken shell underneath.

Abner shuddered and quickly looked away. He wasn’t a good man. He wasn’t a man at all.