Harry had watched quietly as the Space Needle finally collapsed, two hundred years past its prime. He didn't particularly associate himself with it, so he supposed that he wouldn't feel anything. Yet, he felt pain. It was as if the memories written right into his DNA were screaming out such destruction of one of the greatest monuments of its age. But is had to be done, or at least the Enclave said it had to be done. Was that not enough proof? The Enclave adored any monument of the past, and would only allow the destruction of one if it HAD to be done. So the team had done it like the dogs they knew themselves to be.

He sighed, as the Vertibird door closed, and grabbed a stick of white chocolate. The last he had packed for this mission, and the largest of them. He tried not to think about anything important as he munched on the treat, and smirked as Tristan was unable to smoke in the Vertibird, due to Wraith's objections. 'Hah, he needs to get something better to put in his mouth' he thought. He leaned back, put his hands down, and closed his eyes. It had been a long day, and his stamina was in the negatives, not just drained. It took barely a minute before Harry was out cold.

And what felt like moments later, he was shaken awake by the rough landing of the Vertibird. Immediately, his hand reached upward, grabbing hold of the steadier. He pulled himself to his feet, groggily, and took a look at the rest of the team. They were in a much better state than him, as usual. He jumped off the vertibird, and walked to their reception, barely noticing the Power Armor clad Enclave special units around them. What caught him off-guard at first was the President. And then the fancy Deathclaw. The words cycled through his brain for the next couple of minutes, while the President spoke. 

'The Prez, and a deathclaw in a suit. The Prez, and a deathclaw in a suit' repeated his mind, until the President said "Let me introduce Dimitri Romanov, one of the Enclave's greatest minds.", which shook him back, allowing him to notice the three-armed cyborg like mastermind standing there as well. He listened to the President's speech about him, and then bowed back at the weird scientist. 

Eagle Point sure was weird, wasn't it? They now had a gentleman deathclaw as a quartermaster, and a three armed R&D division head. Was this, in any way, [i]normal[/i]? Of course not. "I need a drink to deal with this shit, daily.", Harry muttered to himself, and waited for their quiet little reception to get over, quickly. It wasn't every day you met the President, but it was also not every day that you jumped on a four story tall mutant and stabbed its eyes out. 

With the reception over quick, he walked over to the benches, and removed the powerful velcro that kept his armor on. The cracked, bloody, and dirty armor fell to the ground with a clang, and he immediately became aware of the need for a bath. He declined Tristan's request to get a drink, in favour of getting clean. He HAD been covered in mutie blood all day, hadn't he? He requested one of the nearby soldiers to take his armor to the quarter master, while he went to the barracks to have a bath.