[color=00aeef]FRIEDA RICHTER[/color] -- Salem and so on

The call to a cigarette was strong.  So strong, she found herself distracted enough that it took not one, not two, but four glances south towards the beach for her to see the image of Rook moving back and forth, hauling all manner of large junk around.

[i]Aha![/i] she thought to herself, triumphantly.  [i]Now we'll see what you're really up to.[/i]  The cigarette temporarily forgotten, Frieda inched her way down the alley and towards one of the buildings.  An intact fire escape caught her eye, snaking its way up to the flat roof of what seemed to be some mixed-use building before the war.  She climbed the steel stairs, greatly aware of how loud her feet sounded on them in her boots, and hoped the mutant was too busy hauling junk to notice.  Frieda crossed the roof and found a dried out skeleton sitting in a patio chair with a teddy bear in its lap and a children's story book in its hand.  She wasn't sure if she should feel sick, or confused.  

Movement on the beach below recalled her attention and she hunkered down next to the edge of the roof to watch.

She became so bored, she wondered that the old man had been right to just leave the greenskin alone.  He paced back and forth, hauling huge steel containers, for what seemed to be to build some kind of wall.  Frieda had taken to picking at her nails when she heard an unfamiliar voice speaking to the mutant and snapped her attention back to the beach.  Sure enough, a young looking woman with dark hair was chatting and smiling with the mutant, going so far as to offer to 'help.'

[i]I'll never get used to these idiotic tribals.[/i]  She watched in revulsion as the woman spent several minutes with the mutant.  Frieda wasn't close enough to pick up each and every word of the conversation.  Something about walls?  Her eyes went between Rook and the containers, and something clicked.

"Well, I'll be damned," she breathed.  The greenskin sure seemed to be trying to build fortifications around the town.  [i]But,
 is he trying to keep other bad guys out, or keep the rest of us locked in?[/i]  It seemed too good to be true.

Flashbacks of super mutants clad in their ugly armour, shouting and shooting at her Vertibirds over the years were enough to doubt very much that there existed one who actually didn't have nefarious intentions.

"I'm still going to keep an eye on you," she muttered.  Frieda idly scratched at the aged concrete in front of her, wondering what her best course of action would be.  The extent of her field expertise was limited to the basic "how not to die in the wasteland" kind of stuff they raise everyone on, and her heart sank at the thought that Brian would know the answer.  He always knew the answer.

Rook had picked up his white flag once more and walking past the building she had perched herself onto, seemingly headed towards the diner.  She ducked as low as possible, watching him pass.  Once he was well on his way, passing the church, she rose and descended the fire escape to follow him.  Frieda hit the ground heavily, her bag bumping against her body as she landed.  [i]I really need a better place to stash this stuff.[/i]  She continued to tail Rook as he walked down the street, in the direction of the diner.