#MS Pipe Dealers Near Me

[jrspipessandtubes]

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Name: JRS Pipes And Tubes Phone No: 9643472264 Address: Plot No.19, Prakash Industrial Estate, Sahibabad, Uttar Pradesh - 201005 (INDIA) Twitter: https://twitter.com/JrsTubes Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jrspipesandtubesdealers GMB: MS Pipe Dealers Near Me

[happybouquetinfluencer]

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[ksteel]

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[the-awkward-outlaw]

Second Chances - Ch. 22

Turning of the Tides

Warnings: Swearing, unimaginable fluff

Word count: ~8500

Masterlist 

Read on AO3

The night after your adventure in Lagras, Dutch takes Arthur, John, Bill and Lenny out to deal with Bronte. Hosea tries desperately to change his mind, but to no avail. As the group rides out of camp, he shakes his head. 

You watch them leave, feeling worried. Bronte will surely be heavily guarded and then there’s the possibility of city cops. Grimshaw assigns you to guard duty for the afternoon. 

As you stand by the gates of Shady Belle, you listen to the forest. A horse stomps its way towards you from the direction of the house and you turn to see Molly riding a small dun horse. You can tell from her eyes she’s been crying. She and Dutch fought again when he returned last night and most of the day she drank heavily. 

“Ms. O’Shea,” you say. “What are you doing?” 

“Don’t you worry about me!” she snaps, pausing her horse. “You get to leave with Arthur whenever you want, but anyone sees me set foot out of here and everyone loses their minds!” 

“Molly, the city is dangerous right now, I really don’t think-”

“I don’t care what you think! I’m going and you can’t stop me!” She kicks her horse into a gallop and leaves. You stare after her, worried. 

Charles approaches you, prepared to take the night shift. You hand him the repeater and go into camp. Spotting Hosea and Abigail at the table, you sit down, interrupting their conversation.

“Molly’s leaving,” you state.

“We know,” Hosea says sadly. “We tried talking to her, but she don’t wanna listen to us.” 

“She just needs some time,” Abigail says. “Dutch ain’t been too kind to her lately. Everyone needs a break from this place sometimes. She’ll come back.” 

The three of you fall silent for a moment. “Y/N, I’m glad you came over,” Hosea says. “Wanted to talk to you about this bank job.” 

“I didn’t think I would be involved,” you say. 

“Well, you’re not yet. But in order to do this right, we need to create a diversion away from the bank. I figure you, Abigail and myself will do that. We’ll go in, looking like city folks. I figure we plant a dud stage and set it off with dynamite.”

Abigail chews on her lip. “We’ll have to make sure no one sees us with the dynamite.” 

“That’s easy. We’ll take the stage we stole and put dynamite inside before leaving. You two act as lookouts while I light it and we walk away before anyone figures out what we’re doing. If all goes according to plan, no one will suspect a thing and we can sneak out.” 

“I don’t know, Hosea,” you say. “Seems like a lot of our plans the past few months haven’t gone too well for us.” 

“This one will, Y/N. Just have some faith.” Hosea pats your hand and stands up. “Just think about it, hmm?”

You nod and he leaves, lighting his pipe. Abigail stirs in her seat, almost as though searching for something to say. 

“So you and Arthur are getting pretty close?” she says. 

“Yeah. He’s, well, let’s just say when I first met him, I didn’t know how much of a romantic he was.” 

She laughs. “He’s always been like that. The carin’ sort. I just wish John…” she sighs heavily. 

“He’s getting better though, isn’t he? I’ve seen him with Jack more.” 

“He is, but I still have to talk him into it. It’s like he can’t make up his mind about the boy, and yet Jack looks up to him so.” 

“He’ll come around. John may not be the brightest man here, but he knows what’s right.” 

“I suppose. Well, I better go see to that boy.” 

She gets up and walks into the house. Javier sits by the fire with Uncle, but they’re both quiet. You see Karen stumbling about on the edges of camp, a bottle swaying from her hand. Sighing, you get up and decide to head to bed, hoping you can sleep without Arthur by your side. 

By morning, all the men except for Arthur and John returns. Lenny tells you and Abigail they stayed out after Bronte was dealt with. Dutch seems irritable, but he doesn’t seem to notice the absence of Molly. You approach him as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

“Hello, Dutch,” you say. “I wanted to let you know that Molly-”

“I don’t want to hear about Ms. O’Shea right now,” he grumbles. “I cannot worry about her, I got too much goin’ on.” He stomps away towards the house, stopping near Hosea. 

Midafternoon comes and Arthur and John finally return. John bids him farewell and heads off towards the gazebo where Abigail is sitting with Jack. Arthur rubs his jaw, his stubble nearly returned to normal. He sees you and walks over.

“Hello, Y/N.” 

“Arthur. You okay? Surprised you didn’t come home last night.” 

He sighs and hides his eyes with his hat. Something is troubling him. 

“You wanna talk about it?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe that would be good. Let’s go somewhere else, I don’t wanna be in this camp anymore.” 

He leads you over to the horses and you mount Rannoch, feeling worried. Arthur

doesn’t speak as you walk and you don’t pressure him. He takes you in the direction of Rhodes and you recognize the familiar path leading to Clemens Point. Stopping in the clearing, you look around at the familiar area. After dismounting, he heads towards the lake, still not speaking.

You stand next to him as he gazes out across the burning lake and take his hand. “What’s going on, honey?” you ask.

He sighs and sits down, leaning against the large tree. You do the same, your shoulders touching. 

“Well, we got to Bronte just fine. Slippery snake tried to weasel his way out, but Dutch took him to the swamp, same place that big ol’ gator tried to get us. He killed him, but in… in a bad way.” 

He explains how Dutch had drowned Bronte and then fed him to the gators. The violence of it seems to shock him. 

“I ain’t known Dutch a long time,” you say, “but that don’t seem like him.” 

“No, it ain’t. I been with him 20 years, never seen him do nothing like that. He’s killed a lot of folk, sure. Who of us hasn’t? But feedin’ a man to a damn gator, I don’t know many people who deserve that. And it was just the way he looked at Bronte. Almost like… like he wanted what Bronte had and hated him for it. I’m not makin’ any sense.” 

“No, Arthur, you are. I’m just… It just seems like ever since that trolley job, he’s changed. Been so angry. The way he talked to you the other night. I don’t know, he’s even been lookin’ at me funny, like I made him mad or somethin’.” 

“Don’t know how you could have. You should hear the way Pearson talks about ya. Almost expectin’ him to propose to you any day now.” 

“Arthur, you pig!” you laugh and smack his arm. He chuckles and pulls you into a one-armed hug. 

“Come on, let’s go to Rhodes,” he says.

“What for? You think it’s safe after Sean?” 

“Yeah I think so. Most people involved with that got killed and it’s been long enough. I was thinkin’ we could maybe play some black jack, have some fun.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

  You both head into Rhodes as the sun sets, relieved that no one seems to recognize Arthur. He stops in the store to buy a few things, and he tells you to find a new book. You see one titled “The Portrait of Dorian Gray”, and place it on the counter next to Arthur’s items. Nodding approvingly, he pays for it with his other things. 

Afterwards, he guides you down the street, offering you his arm. He keeps smirking at you, making you suspicious.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours, Mr. Morgan?”

“Nothin’. Just happy to be out here with you is all.” 

“Uh-huh,” you say, not believing a word of it. Just as you’re about to approach the front of the hotel, Arthur stops and pushes you against the wall of the building. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when his lips are on yours, his body pressed against you. 

He pulls away slowly. “Sorry, darlin’. Just… felt like I needed to do that.” 

Blushing, you giggle. “You’re funny, Arthur, but what are you doing? You can kiss me whenever you want, why now?” 

He smiles. “Like you said, I can kiss ya whenever I want.” His thumb traces your cheek gently, making your heart flutter. 

“You’re real funny, Mr. Morgan.” 

“And you’re beautiful.” He kisses you again, softer this time. He sighs and pulls away.

“Thought we were here to play black jack?” you open your eyes, your hands on his shoulders. 

“Yes we are.” He offers you his arm again and leads you up the stairs towards the black jack table. Before you have a chance to pull out your money, he lays down your bet. As the dealer begins handing out cards, you notice Arthur’s been holding your hand since the moment you sat down. Something’s going on with him, but you’re not sure what. 

You play for nearly an hour before Arthur decides he’s done for the night. He takes you to the main floor and buys dinner. Over the meal, he’s become oddly quiet. You try to pick up a conversation, but he doesn’t seem interested. Figuring he’s just tired or worried about Dutch, you suggest getting a room for the night, to which he agrees. 

He gets up and pays for a room, beckoning for you to follow him. He leads you to a room in the back with a bed no wider than the one you share in Shady Belle. Shrugging, you sit down, Arthur next to your side. He’s still quiet and he seems to be lost in his head. You extend your hand and gently grab his face, turning it to you. 

“Just you and me here now,” you say and kiss him. He sighs and kisses you back. Your hand wanders down to his shirt and you undo the first button.

“Not tonight, darlin’,” he says, grabbing your hand. You pull back and look into his face, which is hard and unreadable. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

“No. Just… not in the mood tonight. Ya mind if we just go to sleep? Plannin’ on an early morning.”

“Why? What’s going on tomorrow?” 

“Nothin’. I’ll explain in the mornin’. Just get some rest.” 

Something in you wants to push further, but his eyes seem sad. You nod and unlace your boots, lying down. He lies down as well and you slide into the crook of his arm. His hand rests gingerly on your shoulder, but it feels as though he’s forcing himself to tolerate your touch. 

In the morning, you wake up alone. You look around but Arthur’s nowhere to be seen. His hat’s resting on the dresser under the window. After sitting up, you grab your knees. Something about the way he was acting last night when you were alone seems strange, completely unlike him. A strange feeling settles into your stomach. 

The door opens and Arthur walks in, his hair damp. He offers you a brief and uncharacteristic good morning, which you quietly return. 

“Come on, get dressed,” he says hastily. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Huntin’ trip.” 

“Okay, but where?” 

He looks at you before answering. “West Elizabeth, I reckon.”

He quickly leaves the room, letting you get dressed in privacy. You can’t shake off the feeling that he’s irritated with you. You try thinking back, wondering what you may have done or said, but coming up with nothing. He had been so sweet when you’d come into town, but after dinner he acted like he didn’t want you around. 

You leave the room, still conflicted and meet him by the bar. He silently beckons you to follow him out to the horses. 

“Figure we can take a stage,” he says, his voice flat. 

“You sure? Why don’t we take the train? It’ll take half the time.” 

“Because I want to,” he says quickly. He doesn’t go further as he leads you to the stage, the driver napping on his seat. Arthur dismounts and raps the carriage. “Hey!” he calls out when the driver doesn’t respond. He wakes up with a small snort. 

“Huh, what?”

“You mind takin’ us to Strawberry?” Arthur says. 

The driver rubs his eyes and yawns. “Sure, get in. Gonna be a trip.” 

Arthur opens the stage door and gestures you inside, his face stony. Bowing your head, you climb in. Arthur takes the seat opposite of you, hiding his eyes beneath his hat. You clutch your hands as the stage begins moving; the driver urging the horses on. 

The next few hours pass in almost complete silence. The nasty feeling in your stomach has grown. You begin to wonder if Arthur is planning on ending your relationship.

I told you, a nasty voice says. No one could ever love you.

Leaning back, you look out the window to the passing world beyond, wishing the voice would fall silent. It doesn’t. 

He’s come to the same realization everyone eventually comes to. You’re not worth it, you’re not worthy of being loved. He’s going to break it off with you and forget this ever happened. He’s going to run back to Mary and they’ll be happy.

A tear finds its way out of the corner of your eye and you angrily wipe it away. If Arthur notices, he says nothing. You wish he would.

He doesn’t care about your pain, you stupid woman, that awful voice says again. No one has ever cared, why would he be any different? You were a fool for believing he loved you.

You suddenly wish you were alone in the stage, alone to show your weakness. Arthur still sits rigidly in the seat opposite you, his eyes hidden and his hands clasped. You lean your head against the wall near the window as more tears betray you. Why is he taking you to West Elizabeth to break up with you? Why couldn’t he have done it already? You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep as the horrible voice continues to whisper to you.

Arthur shakes you awake abruptly. “We’re here,” he says in a hollow voice. You sigh and follow him out of the stage, wishing he’d just get this over with already. You wonder, as you mount Rannoch, what you will do when you get back to camp. Should you leave? That would be the wrong choice. Just because Arthur’s breaking up with you doesn’t mean you have to lose the rest of your family. The thought of losing touch with Hosea, the other girls, even Grimshaw is too painful.

Arthur hops onto Artemis and wordlessly leads you east towards Big Valley. When the expanse of green lays ahead of you, he stops. “Figure we can hunt for a few hours,” he says. You nod, doing your best to keep your face blank. You kick Rannoch into a run without waiting for him and break out of the trees, the wind flying through your hair and the sun bathing your face. A sense of freedom comes over you as a herd of pronghorns dashes through the wildflowers. You pull Rannoch to a stop on the north end of the valley. Ahead of you, a large stag with proud antlers lifts his head from the river and runs towards the trees. The sight brings the memory of Arthur telling you about his strange dreams of stags, and the hollow feeling returns.

For the next few hours, you keep your distance from Arthur, hunting the pronghorn and even a moose to keep the horrible thoughts at bay. The sun’s beginning to set behind the giant mountain on the western border of the valley and Arthur stops Artemis near you as you finish skinning a pronghorn doe. 

“Hey, let’s go to the lake,” Arthur says, leaning on his saddle horn. You look up and he offers you a small smile, his eyes bright again. You swallow and nod, your chest still heavy with doubts. After flinging the pelt across your horse, you get up and follow him down the trail into the forest. 

“You’re real quiet,” he calls back to you, turning in his saddle to see you. 

You’ve been buried in your own head and you look up to see him staring at you. Is that worry on his face?

“Oh, yeah,” you mumble, dipping your head again. You’re convinced he doesn’t want to hear anything going on in your head anymore. 

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he says, turning back to the trail. “I sure do like hearin’ your voice though.” 

He’s lying, the voice says. You don’t respond, patting Rannoch’s neck. 

Arthur stops on the trail, Lake Owanjilla lying ahead. The western sky has turned a brilliant pink, the ridges of the mountains burn gold. If you didn’t feel so miserable, you’d find it breathtaking. 

“Here’s a good spot,” he mutters and dismounts.

“Here we go,” you mumble quietly so he doesn’t hear you. He leads you to the edge of the lake, hanging over the water. A clear, cold stream rushes into it on your left. You stand next to Arthur, awaiting the blow. 

“Sure is a lot of beauty in this world,” he says, looking across the lake. An owl somewhere in the trees hoots. “You helped me see that.” 

“I’ve done nothing, Arthur,” you say. You stare out across the water too. 

“You’re wrong, darlin’,” he says. He turns his body to you and you look at him. He grabs your hands and smiles softly. “Ya know, the best thing I ever done was go into that sheriff’s in Blackwater, lookin’ for bounties. It lead me to you, even if my intentions were selfish. You done so much for me since I met you, I… I don’t know where I’d be without you.” 

He places a palm on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. 

“I didn’t do anything,” you repeat, more tears leaking from your eyes.

“You taught me what love really feels like,” he says. “With Mary, there was always somethin’ I had to do to earn her love. You give it freely, and yours is so much more pure and powerful. It’s not that I didn’t love Mary when I was younger, it’s just that with you, it don’t matter no more. I love you more than anything and I… I can’t imagine a future without you.” 

“What are you saying, Arthur?” you ask. You’d been expecting him to tell you anything other than what he’s saying now. Arthur takes his hands away and reaches into his satchel and he kneels down. Your heart stops as he shows you his upturned fist. 

“I’m askin’ you if you’ll marry me, sweetheart?” he opens his hand and shows you a ring, an emerald set into the gold band. Your knees feel shaky as you begin to cry, your heart feeling as though it might burst. Arthur sighs and stands up, hiding the ring in his fist.

“Listen, darlin’, if you- if you don’t feel the same, I-.”

You cut him off. “Yes, Arthur. I will marry you.” 

His face breaks into a massive smile and he grabs your hand, gently sliding it onto your finger. You stare at it for a moment before looking up at him. His own eyes seem watery and he pulls you into a tight hug, letting you bury your face into his chest, the horrible voice finally falling silent. His scent fills your nose and you breathe in deeply.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he sniffs as he rests his cheek against your head. 

You look up and kiss him, placing your hand on his cheek. “I’ll always love you, Arthur Morgan.” 

He grips your hand and kisses the ring on your finger. “I feel like the luckiest man alive.” 

“I’m not exactly a prize, Arthur,” you joke. 

“You are to me.” 

You both watch silently as a massive eagle circles over the lake, finally dipping down to the water and plucking a fish with its talons. 

“Come on,” Arthur says, patting your back. “Let’s get a fire going.” He guides you over to a wide spot of grass and begins a fire while you set up the tent. You sit down next to him and he immediately pulls you into his lap. You smile as the big cowboy cradles your head into his neck. 

“How come you looked so miserable this mornin’, sweetheart?” he asks. 

You huff a small laugh. “Ah, you’d think it was stupid.” 

“Nah, I could never think that.”

“Well, I thought… I thought you were going to break things off this morning. You were so distant and unlike yourself.” 

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I was scared.”

“Scared?” you look up at him. “I could never see you scared. How many times you been shot at?”

“This was different, darlin’,” he kisses your forehead. “I was terrified you were gonna say no.” 

You pause, trying to think of a response. 

“Why didn’t you?” he suddenly asks. “I thought after everythin’ you been through, marriage would be the last thing you’d ever want.” 

You listen to his heartbeat for a moment. “Because I love you, Arthur. It’s not that I can’t imagine a future with you, it’s just that the possibility of that future ever happening is impossible.”

“Me too. But what I meant was why? You been married before, and we both know how awful it was. Why you willin’ to try again?”

“This is completely different from the last time, Arthur.” You turn so your back’s against his chest. He clasps his hands on your stomach. “Last time, none of it happened with my consent. He was a complete stranger to me. This time couldn’t be more different. A chance to have something normal for once.” 

“Well, I’m glad you said yes,” he kisses your temple. “I don’t know what I woulda done if you didn’t.” 

You smile and pat his hand. As night falls properly, you cook dinner and then Arthur takes you inside the tent. He makes love to you in a way he never has before. He worships your body, every flaw, every scar, every inch, and you do the same with him, leaving no part of him untouched. 

The next morning, you wake to find Arthur sitting up and writing in his journal. You smile at him through tired eyes and roll over, placing your head in his lap. He chuckles and runs his fingers through your hair. 

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Mm, Arthur.” 

You sit in silence, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body, his fingers causing your skin to erupt in goose bumps. After a while, he pats your shoulder. 

“We ought to get back to camp, sweetheart. Figure the others will wanna know.” 

“Know what?” you look up at him. 

He smiles, you see his slightly jagged tooth, which you secretly love. “Know your answer.”

You sit up, still looking at him. “The others knew you were gonna ask me?” 

“Of course. Needed some advice. To be honest, when I first knew I wanted to marry you, I thought it would be too soon. We’re in a big mess right now, Pinkertons breathin’ down our necks. However, I don’t really see things gettin’ better any time soon.”

You nod, grabbing his hand. He squeezes yours. 

“Hosea made me realize that if I felt ready to ask you, then it meant it was time.”

You smile and lean in, kissing him. His arms loop around you, holding you close and warming you against the morning’s chill. 

“I’m glad you did. Can I admit something to you?” you say.

“Of course, darlin’. I want ya to know you can tell me anythin’.”

“I believed for a long time that I was gonna be alone forever. I’d never have anyone to depend on, never have someone I could trust the way I trust you.” 

He kisses your forehead. “Well, I’m glad I could prove you wrong.”

You nuzzle into his neck, adoring the familiar scent of pine and leather that seems to emit from his skin. His hands rub your back gently and he begins to hum a tune you recognize. One of the horses snorts and you remember you can’t stay here forever, as much as you’d like to.

“Come on, cowboy,” you pat his chest. “Like you say, they’ll be wantin’ to hear.” 

The two of you pack up camp quickly after a brief breakfast and some coffee. You ask Arthur if he wants to take the stage back to Saint Denis or Rhodes, but he says he wants to just ride back on the horses. 

“That’ll take almost the whole day,” you say.

“I know, but it gives me the chance to be alone with you a little longer.” 

You can’t help but smile, riding side by side with him. You adore the soft core he hides beneath his tough exterior. 

It’s late afternoon by the time you see the trees surrounding the path that leads to Shady Belle. You pat Rannoch, he and Artemis are heavily laden with game and pelts that you’ve hunted on your way down. 

“Who’s there?” Javier calls. 

“Just us,” Arthur replies. He hitches up and you do the same. Just as you’re about to grab the pelts from Rannoch, three figures walk towards you. Dutch, Hosea, and Grimshaw march your way, looking as though they’ve just shared a joke. 

“Well?” Dutch raises his arms expectantly. Arthur steps beside you, staring at them. 

“Are we to call you Mrs. Morgan now?” Hosea asks, a proud smile stretched across his face. 

You blush and grab Arthur’s hand. “Well, I suppose. We’re not married yet though.” 

Grimshaw puts her hands on her hips and marches over to you. Expecting her to start yelling for disappearing again, you await her blow. Instead, she quickly grabs your left hand.

“I wanna make sure this man’s done right by you,” she says, inspecting the ring on your finger. She seems to approve and releases your hand, smiling. “You done good, Mr. Morgan.” 

“Thank you, Miss Grimshaw.” 

Dutch chuckles deeply and turns back to camp.

“Everyone. Everyone!” he hollers. Several of the gang come up to hear what he has to say. Arthur hooks your hand around his arm. You feel nervous, never having accepted compliments well. 

“Tonight is a night for celebration! Arthur and Y/N are going to be married!”

Mary-Beth and Tilly clap, laughing loudly, Karen hollers out excitedly. Several of the men announce their congratulations, coming up to clap you and Arthur on the back. It makes you blush.

“Well, let’s celebrate properly then!” Uncle says, going to sit down by the fire. “Javier! Come play us somethin’!”

Despite being on guard duty, Javier complies. He sits down by the fire, his guitar in hand. “I know just the one to play tonight.” 

Lenny and Mary-Beth grab you and Arthur, guiding you to the big log directly in front of the fire. You sit down, your hand still looped around Arthur’s arm as Javier tests a few strings. He finally clears his throat and begins playing. You recognize the first notes of the song you had sung for the gang back in Clemens Point, The Sweetheart Tree. It makes you smile wider as Arthur rocks gently back and forth. 

When the song’s over, Jack runs over with strings of flowers in his hand. “I made these for you and Uncle Arthur!” he says, holding up the flower necklaces. Arthur chuckles and takes them, thanking him and putting one over himself and the other around your neck. Jack smiles proudly. “So she’s gonna be my aunt?” 

“That’s right, kid,” Arthur says as he drapes an arm around your shoulder. Jack gives a small “yippee” and skips off. Arthur kisses your temple and gets up, heading off to Pearson’s wagon where several boxes of alcohol have been laid out. He’s immediately swarmed by Lenny, John, Bill and Karen. Hosea sits down close to you as Javier finishes his song. Grimshaw takes a seat, along with Mary-Beth. 

“I’m real proud of you,” Hosea says, lighting his pipe. “Must have taken a lot of courage to say yes, after your last marriage.” 

You smile and look into the fire. “It didn’t, actually. I wasn’t scared when he asked me. Surprised, but not scared.” 

“Ah, you two were meant to be,” Mary-Beth says breathily. 

“It’ll be good for him,” Grimshaw says. “Hopefully you can help him settle down a little. Give him something to keep him centered.”

“Oh, I doubt even I’ll be able to tame him,” you chortle. “Always been a man of the wild.” 

Javier and Uncle pick up a song together and several of the others come over to join in. Hosea looks at you with a clever gleam in his eye. 

“You ready for tomorrow?” he asks.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“The big bank job in town.”

“That’s tomorrow?” you say, a little louder than you had meant. 

“Ah, must have forgotten to tell you. Sorry about that. Anyways, you, me and Abigail will take the stage coach ahead of the others and plant it a few blocks from the bank. You’ll need to wear something nice, make you look like an upper class lady.” 

“Okay,” you say. You’ll have to ask one of the other girls if you can borrow something, not having any dresses aside from the one you wore to that awful party at the mayor’s mansion. 

Dutch walks over, attracted by the mention of the bank job. “Now Hosea, before you get too excited about this, we need to smooth out the plan. Got a few wrinkles in it that are worryin’ me.” 

“We will tomorrow, Dutch. Let us enjoy this night. Like you said, we’re celebratin’.” 

As Javier begins playing a new tune, you look fondly over at Hosea. You call his attention.

“I know it might not be for a while,” you say as he looks at you. “But you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a proper father. Would… would you walk me down the aisle when Arthur and I get married?”

He smiles widely. “It would be my honor, Y/N.” 

You grin at him, thanking him. 

The party lasts for several hours. You and Arthur are forced to tell the story of how he asked multiple times. Some of the members, mainly Karen, Bill and Pearson drink themselves to the point of passing out. Arthur brings you a bottle of Caribbean rum, which you’ve never tried before. After half a bottle, you feel it getting to your head. You and Tilly both drunkenly try to play Domino with poor results. Lenny stands by the table, laughing as you drop a tile and try unsuccessfully to pick it up. Arthur stumbles over and screams, “Leeennaaaaaaayyyyy!” 

“Oh God, Arthur!” Lenny hollers back. “Not again!” 

Arthur guffaws as he stands next to you, taking a long drink from the bottle in his hand. You give up on the tile and stand up, draping your arms over his shoulders. 

“Think…” you hiccup. “Think it’s time for bed, Mr. Morgan. I ain’t seen straight for an hour.” 

“Okay, Mrs. Morgan,” he slurs, bending down to kiss you. You grab his hand and lead him towards the house, bidding the others good night. The walk seems much harder than usual as you and Arthur stumble over one another. When you’re finally in the house, he starts grabbing you, making you laugh.

“Room first,” you mumble. By the time you get upstairs and into your room, he practically rips your clothes off. You don’t even make it to the bed as Arthur lays you down, kissing every inch of skin he can reach. You rip his shirt open, glad to find he neglected to put on his union suit this morning as you run your fingers through his chest hair. He growls and nips your shoulder. As you reach down to remove his gun belt, you hear him mumble. 

“I love you, Y/N Morgan. Lord knows how much I love you.” 

You wake up with a terrible hangover. Arthur groans next to you on the floor, rubbing his head. 

“God, I wanna die,” he mumbles.

“Me too. Why’d we drink so much?” you say. You’re about to roll over to kiss him when he shoots up, drapes a blanket around his hips and runs out on the balcony. You hear him retching so you heave yourself to your feet, dressing. Arthur comes back in, wiping his mouth clean, and begins to dress as well. 

“Come on, cowboy,” you grab his hand. “Let’s try clearing our heads.” 

You both stumble down the stairs, still holding hands. You wince as the morning sun hits your eyes. Arthur leads you over to the fire and pours you a coffee. The hot drink seems to do little to clear the headache and your stomach clenches painfully. You throw out your coffee and dash to the river just in time to vomit what’s left of the alcohol in your system. 

Arthur walks up behind you, finishing his drink. When you stand up straight, he pulls you into his arms. 

“I gotta go speak with Dutch and Hosea, figure out this bank job,” he says. You nod into his chest, your head still pounding. He guides you back over to Pearson’s wagon, grabbing you a canteen of water. You greedily drink as much as you can, then he does the same. 

As Arthur heads to the house where Dutch and Hosea are talking, you head over to the crates where the other girls sit. You feel a little better as you sit down, picking up some sewing. 

“So you two gonna get married quickly or you gonna be engaged a while?” Karen asks, her eyes bloodshot. She looks worse than you feel. 

“I don’t know. We ain’t talked about it yet.”

“What about kids?” Tilly asks. “You gonna try havin’ ‘em as soon as you’re married or wait?” 

This question causes you to pause. Arthur’s the only one who knows you’re barren. You’re not in the mood to disclose that to the others just yet.

“We’re probably gonna wait. Who knows what our situation might be like for the next little while? Ain’t the best idea to have kids until we know it’s a good time.” 

“Well, be prepared for a lot of hard work,” Abigail says as she walks over with her coffee. “Much as I love my boy, it’s a thankless job.” 

“Ain’t that sort of the point?” you ask. “I mean, why’s a kid gotta be grateful to his parents just for bein’ born? Ain’t like they asked for it.” 

“Still,” she says. “You’d think after all I done for him, he’d at least be grateful.” 

“Kids ain’t supposed to be grateful,” you say, returning to your sewing. “And they don’t see the world that way. I’m not sayin’ you should spoil the boy or make his life difficult, but it ain’t fair of you to expect so much from him, as much as you’d like him to.” 

“You ain’t got kids,” Abigail finishes her coffee. “You don’t understand.” She walks away, muttering something beneath her breath. 

The next few hours, you do chores around camp and your head clears. Hosea approaches you and Abigail in the middle of the day, suggesting you get ready. She heads off without a word; you ask one of the girls if you can borrow a dress. Arthur comes into the room just as you’re changing.

“You ready for this, darlin’?” he asks. 

“Guess as much as I’ll ever be. Does Dutch know what he wants to do after this?”

“I dunno, he keeps talking about goin’ to Tahiti or Australia. I honestly don’t know the appeal of either one of ‘em, but I guess the Pinkertons won’t find us there.” 

“What about heading back west like he talked about?” 

Sighing, he sits down. “I don’t think that’s happenin’, darlin’. Wherever the train goes, the Pinkertons can get us.” 

He begins changing into a suit you’ve never seen before. He tucks a blue puff tie into his patterned blue vest. 

“Where’d you get that, Arthur? The suit?” 

“Oh, Trelawney made me buy it for that river boat job. Do I look okay?” He fidgets with the buttons of his coat sleeve. You walk up and adjust his tie, smiling.

“You look very handsome. Not at all like some country man.” 

“Well, I hope not. Now you know what to do?”

You swallow and nod. “Yes, once we set off the dynamite, Hosea’s gonna take us to the north end of Saint Denis, we’ll grab a wagon and meet you all back here.” 

“Hopefully, much richer than we are now,” he smiles, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “You be careful out there, darlin’. Don’t want you gettin’ hurt.” 

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me. But promise me you’ll be careful? You’re guaranteed to be getting shot at.” 

“Awe, I’ll be fine. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Micah will get shot.”

You giggle and push him out the door. “Don’t get my hopes up.” 

As you walk outside, Dutch calls to Arthur. “You got everything?”

“Think so,” he says, straightening his sleeve. 

“So,” Hosea says as he climbs onto the stage. You and Abigail get into the back. “We rob ourselves a bank and within six weeks, we’re living life anew a tropical idyll spending the last of our days as banana farmers?” 

“Exactly,” Dutch says from the back of the Count. Arthur, John, Micah, Lenny and Javier mount their horses as Bill and Charles sit on one of the wagons.

“Let’s get out of this godforsaken place and go rob ourselves a bank!” Hosea yells out. The others holler and agree, Micah forces his horse to rear up. You suddenly get a flashback of Bison Point when Dutch and so many of the others had left in much the same manner to rob the ferry. A bad feeling settles into your stomach. 

Hosea whips the horses and the stage charges out to the front of the line, causing you and Abigail to sway inside.

“This is it, gentlemen!” Dutch calls out behind the stage. “The very last one!” 

“Where have we heard that one before?” John responds. 

“What has happened to you, John? You lost all your heart.” 

“I’m just trying to stay real about this.” 

“‘Real’. How I detest that word,” Dutch says. “So devoid of imagination!”

“How soon we shippin’ out?” Micah asks. 

Dutch begins talking about how he has a plan to get a boat organized and go down to South America.

“What about the money in Blackwater?” Micah demands. 

“Forget that, it’s gone!” Dutch hollers. “You all talk like it’s the only goddamn money in the world. We’re gonna take it from the people who take it from us. This is a big city bank!” 

“Right,” John shoots back. “With guards, security, police.”

“Hosea has done his reconnaissance, we’ve been over this.” He goes over the plan again, sounding frustrated yet determined. By the time he’s done, the stage is passing Calliga Hall.

“Hosea!” Dutch calls. “You know the drill. Any problems, meet us back in camp!” 

Hosea whips the horses on, the stage speeds up and drives into the city. Hosea guides it carefully down the cobbled streets, navigating around other wagons and riders. He stops it on a narrow street a few blocks from the bank. You and Abigail get out as he climbs down.

“Alright, ladies,” he says quietly, clapping his hands. “Each of you stand on one end of the stage, keep an eye out while I light her up.” 

You walk with him towards the back of the stage and stand on the sidewalk, looking around for potential witnesses. Hosea reaches into the back lockbox and pulls out a tied bundle of dynamite. He quickly places it inside the stage.

“Hold on,” you say, spotting a man and woman walking across the street at the end of it. Hosea pauses and watches them. Luckily, they take no notice of your party and walk on, disappearing around the building. “Okay, clear.” 

“We’re good on this end, Hosea,” Abigail says. 

“Alright, act quickly, ladies. Once I light this thing, we only have a few seconds to get down that alley and be gone.” He gestures to the alley between the two buildings the stage sits in front of.

“We’re ready, Hosea,” you say. 

He lights a match and touches it to the wick, which begins sparking.

“Now!” Hosea whispers. You and Abigail hastily follow him down the alley, trying to get away from the stage as quickly as possible without looking suspicious. As you reach the center of it, the stage explodes, the rubble clattering around the street. It’s immediately followed by screams, yells, horses neighing, a whistle blows. 

“Ladies, I think we’re done here,” Hosea says. He ushers you both down the alley in front of him, heading down towards the other street. You’re hoping the others are having as much luck as you when someone painfully grabs your arm. You’re suddenly slammed into the brick wall and Agent Milton, the Pinkerton, points the barrel of his pistol inches from your face. You hear Abigail get pushed into the wall and look over to see Ross pinning her. Several other Pinkerton agents and policemen stand behind him.

Hosea lifts his hands, shocked, and is about to speak when Milton interrupts him. “Mr. Matthews! We received word you and your gang of delinquents would be here, but we doubted you’d really be so foolish to rob the bank. Looks like our informant was right.” 

“Mr. Milton,” Hosea says, his eyes sparkling cleverly. “We have no business here other than to enjoy the day in this lovely city.” 

“And the fact that you just left the street where a wagon exploded is nothing more than a mere coincidence? I doubt that.” 

Hosea takes a step towards him. “Mr. Milton, we’ve no quarrel with you. We are on the verge of leaving, we’ll never be your problem again after today.” 

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Mr. Matthews! I’ve given you all how many chances to go and live as better men, but you’ve done nothing but laugh in my face.” 

Milton pushes his hand against your throat, pulling the hammer of his pistol down. You grab his hand on your throat, Arthur’s ring glinting on your finger as Milton’s finger twitches on the trigger.

“Wait!” Hosea says, stepping close to him. “Take me, not her. Give her and the other girl a five minute head start, I’ll go with you quietly.” 

“Hosea, no!” you choke.

“Quiet, Y/N!” he says, not breaking eye contact with Milton. 

“You’ll show me where the others are?” Milton demands. “No lies?” 

“No lies. Just promise me you’ll let these two have a chance.” 

Milton hesitates. His finger brushes against the trigger, his hand on your throat tightens painfully. Finally, he lifts the hammer and points the gun at Hosea.

“You heard the man, Ross. Let the girl go.” 

Hosea sighs heavily and keeps his hands up as Milton approaches him. He grabs him by the collar and points the barrel at his head, standing behind him. Milton glares at you.

“We had a deal, Ms. Y/L/N. You have five minutes, don’t think I won’t try to find you.” 

“Hosea, no!” you scream as Abigail grabs your hand and yanks you away. You try fighting her off.

“Get out of here, Y/N!” Hosea calls. “You have a wedding to attend!” 

“No!” 

Abigail wrenches your arm painfully as she pulls you down the street. “He’ll be fine, Y/N,” she hollers back at you, sounding hysterical. “Hosea always finds a way out.” 

You run with her, trying to keep the tears at bay. You look back and find the Pinkertons gone, along with Hosea, although a few policemen mill about, screaming at one another. 

Abigail leads you over a few blocks. You don’t pay attention to where she’s taking you, all you know is you’re farther from the bank than before. Just as you hope that Arthur and the others will be okay, you hear a faint gunshot. The sound brings you to a halt and you turn in its direction, a horrible feeling in your gut. The air is suddenly filled with the cracks of guns from the distance, echoing off the buildings. The city has turned to chaos.

You’re just about to charge into the street in the direction of the fight when Abigail grabs your shoulders, pulling you back. A wagon with a policeman standing behind a gatling gun roars past you, the wheel nearly catching your dress. 

“We need to get out of here!” Abigail yells as policemen and Pinkertons flood the streets. One of the Pinkertons points to the pair of you, whipping his gun out. Your five minutes are up. Abigail yelps and grabs your hand, dashing off down a thin alley just as the Pinkerton shoots his gun at you, the bullet plunges into the brick wall of a building. The alley winds and leads into a small plaza, a broken fountain sitting in the middle. You see not too far beyond the next street, which is swarming with more policemen as the gunshots continue to ring out. 

“I don’t think we can get out!” you scream at Abigail over the blasts. “We should hide! One of the buildings.” 

Without thinking, you dash over to a door facing the plaza, kicking it open. An elderly black woman screams, falling backwards onto her kitchen floor. Abigail slams the door shut after you, slightly dulling the ringing of gunfire. The woman doesn’t move and you bend down, trying to wake her, thinking she fainted. She doesn’t respond and you feel her throat, finding no pulse. She must have suffered a heart attack. 

You and Abigail quickly inspect the house, finding too many windows for your comfort at the front of it. The back where the old lady died only has one window, a narrow staircase leads to the upper floor. 

“Should we go up there?” you whisper. The gunfire still echoes through the city outside.

“No, we might get trapped,” Abigail says. “Let’s just stay here in the kitchen, it’s blocked from the front of the house.” 

“Help me move her then,” you say, gesturing to the old woman. You both pick her up and lay her on a couch in the front room. She looks as though she could be napping. Heading back into the kitchen, you both sit on the floor and away from the single window, praying no one will find you.

Several hours have passed, the gun shots have finally stopped. The city lies dark and unusually quiet except for the splashing of the torrential downpour. You would have left the city by now, except constant patrols of Pinkertons and policemen roam the streets. You and Abigail have been checking the front windows overlooking the street every half hour or so, finding no citizens or anyone else. The city must be on lockdown, meaning the others must be in it still. You pray for the thousandth time that everyone’s alright and you’ll see them in a day or two back at Shady Belle.

While waiting, you and Abigail raided the old woman’s closets to find new clothes. You slip on a pair of trousers that look as though they belonged to a teenage boy.

Abigail comes back from checking the front. “Think this is as quiet as it’s gonna get tonight, let’s try sneakin’ out now.” 

You sigh and nod. “Sure, this rain should help cover us.” 

You sit up, shaking your leg, which has fallen asleep. Once it’s steady, you open the back door leading to the small plaza with the broken fountain. You sneak out, hunching slightly and letting the rain soak you. The plaza’s clear. Just as you’re about to make a break for the other side, something big slams into you. Abigail covers your mouth just as you scream. You both look over and see a familiar face. 

“Charles!” you hiss. “What happened?!” 

“I’ll explain later,” he mutters. “We need to get out of here. Follow me.” Without another word, he guides you out of the alley and onto the street. He checks constantly as he runs slowly down the street. Through the rain, the form of a wagon appears, two horses patiently hitched to it. You see the words “Saint Denis Police” painted on the side. You point it out to Charles and the three of you run towards it.

Charles opens the door and looks inside, finding nothing but a police man’s hat and coat in it. He’s about to put them on when you slap his shoulder.

“Let me drive us out of here. You’re too recognizable.” 

Charles nods and you put on the coat, tucking your hair in underneath the hat. He and Abigail get into the carriage, slamming the door shut. Climbing up, you pray this will work. You click and flick the reins, trotting the horses on. Looking down at your feet, you spot a rifle. You hope you won’t have to use it as you navigate your way down the street. 

You spot several policemen and a few groups of Pinkertons wandering the streets, yelling to one another over the rain. One officer beckons to you.

“You find anything?” he hollers.

Putting on your best masculine voice, you respond. “Nothing!” 

He nods and continues on his way. You drive onto the large street near the train tracks, passing another police carriage. You sigh heavily as you drive down the bridge, heading away from the city. Once you’re off the bridge, you bring the carriage to a stop and hop down, ripping off the coat and hat. Charles and Abigail get out and you all decide it’s best to travel on foot back to camp.

For the next hour, Charles leads you through the swamp. He doesn’t say a word about the events that transpired, nor do you and Abigail ask. The rain begins to let up just as Shady Belle comes into view. 

“Charles!” Karen yells, holding the repeater as she keeps guard. “What the hell happened?” 

Charles beckons her to follow as you and Abigail go into camp. Grimshaw, Sadie and the others come into the middle of camp, greeting him expectantly. 

“Mr. Smith,” Grimshaw demands. “What has happened? We were expecting you all back hours ago! Where are the others?”

Charles shakes his head sadly. He looks around. Everyone’s staring at him, worried expressions on their faces. 

“Hosea and Lenny are dead. The others found their way onto a boat. I… I don’t know if they’ll be coming back.”

[fallout4holmes]

Journal 58

Valentine and I made our way through Boston, four of the Mechanist’s— rather, Ms. Cruz’s— robots in tow. Bunker Hill was locked up tight for the impending violence; even the raiders seemed quieter than usual. The whole city felt like it was holding its breath.

An explosion came from the direction of the Old North Church. We hurried on, leaving the Brotherhood to their raid which would yield nothing, and soon heard a missile fire to the south; Goodneighbor was under attack.

The Neighborhood Watch fired on their attackers from behind their walls, riddled with laser burns but still intact. The Brotherhood fired from Mass Fusion’s windows, from behind corners and makeshift cover. A Brotherhood soldier in power armor charged the door, which swung open to reveal Fahrenheit and her minigun firing at point blank range. The soldier staggered but fired back as he fell, sending her to the ground as the door was slammed shut again. I ordered our robots to join the fight, and over the wall of the town appeared Mayor Hancock, a Gatling laser in hand, with a bandaged Fahrenheit beside him. They unleashed a spray of lasers and bullets on the forces below. A soldier with a missile launcher took aim, and was tackled by one of our robots with electrified blades for arms.

Then Kleo appeared on the roof of the State House. The assaultron arms dealer held a modified missile launcher, which she fired into the Mass Fusion building as her laser charged. The Brotherhood focused all their fire on her, but Hancock and Fahrenheit were relentless in their assault on the ground forces as the remaining soldiers in the building were forced to exit by Kleo’s attack. The Neighborhood Watch shot through every gap in the wall they could fit a gun barrel through. The street was a sea of bullets.

Valentine and I watched the massacre from around a corner, taking shelter behind crumbled concrete. The silence that followed as the last Brotherhood soldier fell was as deafening as the battle.

Valentine stepped out of our cover, moving forward slowly. “Hancock? I’d appreciate not gettin’ shot today.”

“Nick! Stand down, everyone, it’s over. Fahr, make sure anyone hurt gets the help they need. Nick, Holmes with you?”

“I am,” I followed Valentine out.

Hancock disappeared behind Goodneighbor’s wall and was soon out its door to meet us in the street, “I just want you to know, it wasn’t our fault.”

Valentine and I glanced at each other. “What wasn’t?”

“The attack. We didn’t shoot first, it was those fucking mutants down the street, decide to get bored and—”

“Hancock,” I interrupted, “start again.”

Hancock was a spring of tightly wound anger as he pointed to each part of the story he told, “Mutants. Down the road. Decide to have some fun. Walked up to Mass Fusion, started shooting the ‘bucketheads.’ One of my guys hears the shooting, decides he’s gonna take some shots at mutants, and sure enough the Brotherhood decide a stray bullet’s a full fucking attack and we’re getting shot at from all directions. So now all those goddamn tin soldiers are dead.”

I saw the super mutant corpses by the Mass Fusion building. So much blood spilled over a mistake. “Damn it… wait. Maxson hasn’t given the order to attack yet?”

Hancock shrugged dramatically, “Guess not?”

I frowned, “What’s stopping him? What could he possibly be waiting for…” I hurried into Goodneighbor, “I need to borrow Kent’s radio.”

There was some interference over the signal, but I was able to make contact with Radio Freedom; Liberty Prime had been activated, and shortly afterward Maxson's vertibirds had attacked the Castle. The Castle returned fire as the airport was destroyed in a massive explosion, taking Prime down and the Prydwen with it. It was unclear which event resulted in the destruction of the other, but the important information was that both Liberty Prime and the Prydwen were destroyed. The attacking vertibirds had all been shot down. There were no survivors.

"We need to get to the Castle as quickly as we can," I said to Valentine on our way out of town, "I need to hear all the reports of Brotherhood activity as they come in, and hopefully we can deduce Maxson's strategy."

"'No survivors suggests—"

"I don't believe for a minute that Maxson perished on the Prydwen. He knew activating Liberty Prime would bring the Prydwen's destruction, and he didn't strike me as suicidal when we last spoke."

"Alright, then where is he?"

“We won’t find out waiting here.”

Hancock wished us luck and remained behind to see to his people. Our robots had unfortunately all been destroyed in the fight, so Valentine and I continued on alone. There were no vertibirds overhead as we moved south, or any other sign of a Brotherhood presence in the city.

Raiders were still in residence as we passed Andrew Station, and already harassing another pair of passersby. Unfortunately for the raiders, the two men were friends of mine, and capable soldiers at that.

"You'd think power armor would give a raider with a pipe pistol reason to pause," Valentine said as we joined the fight.

"I think they consider it a challenge," I said as Danse cleanly executed the raider in question.

Preston was supporting him from a range, ducking behind whatever cover he could find. They were an effective team; I would have expected nothing less.

“General!” Preston shouted as he saw us, “Guess you stopped the Mechanist?”

“She’s working for us now!” I drew my blade and stopped the raider charging me as Valentine shot the one behind us.

Preston laughed, “Of course she is!”

We focused on the fight and soon the last raider fell. Danse approached us, "Thank you for the assist, General. Are you headed to the Castle?"

"I am," I nodded. "I presume you are as well?"

"Sanctuary's secure," Preston said, "and we thought we'd be of more use in the fight."

"Then you haven't heard." They looked at each other, and then at me. I sighed, "The Prydwen and Liberty Prime were both destroyed."

Preston's brow rose. I couldn't see Danse's expression through his helmet. I wished I could have.

I continued, "There was an unsuccessful vertibird attack on the Castle. None of the Brotherhood soldiers survived, with minimal casualties to the Minutemen. I don't know what Maxson's plan was, or where he currently is. I find it hard to believe he would have stayed behind on the Prydwen when he knew it would be the Castle's primary target."

Danse turned his head to look away a moment, then looked at me again. "The likeliest possibilities are that he led the attack on the Castle, or he relocated, likely to Cambridge."

"We'll see if the Castle has gathered any more information when we arrive," I said, and we continued on.

"General?" Preston asked, "Did Deacon get those Squires off the Prydwen?"

"I don't know." I sighed, "There's a great deal of information I wish I had."

"We're all doing what we can with what we've got," Valentine quietly said.

We made it to the Castle with minimal trouble, the usual wildlife and unsavory residents of Boston our only hindrances. The Castle's walls were damaged but still standing, the wrecks of vertibirds scattered across soil, sand, and water. The bodies of Brotherhood soldiers lay near the wrecks and by the Castle gates. I saw Danse looking at them as we walked. He softly answered Preston's quiet concern, "I don't recognize any of them."

There was some commotion inside the Castle as we neared. Our arrival was being announced; Ronnie Shaw greeted us as we entered. "General. Wasn't expecting the Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel, too, but glad to see. I imagine you'll want to talk to him."

I was a bit alarmed, "Speak to whom, Ms. Shaw?"

She shrugged and lit a cigarette, "Well. Turns out we might have jumped the gun when we said there were no survivors."

There had been one survivor. He sat on the floor of the cell with what might have been stoic patience were it not for the smoldering annoyance in his glare. He'd nearly died; he owed his life to Curie's improved stimpaks and Strong's enthusiasm for sharing the flesh of his enemy with "Minutemen brothers," bringing him inside the walls and enabling Ms. Shaw to recognize he needed medical attention.

Elder Arthur Maxson did not appreciate the irony.

None of the Minutemen in the Castle knew who he was, and why would they? They'd never seen him, and Maxson had remained perfectly silent since they put him in a cell.

I spoke to him alone. "Elder."

"General. Paladin Brandis told me you sent an agent to take the Squires off the Prydwen."

That was not the first thing I'd expected him to say. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because if I could prevent the death of a child, it was worth the risk. I would have preferred to prevent the death of anyone, but neither of us were willing to compromise our fundamental values."

"What sort of people would we be if we had?" It was a question that required no answer. Maxson stood, "It was unnecessary, I evacuated the airport and Prydwen. The Squires would have been sent to Cambridge anyway."

"I'm glad to hear that. I had no way of being certain of that at the time."

Maxson merely nodded.

I was tired. "Elder Maxson, if I bring the leader of the Railroad here and obtain her promise that synths will not be clandestinely sent to the Capital Wasteland, will the Brotherhood of Steel leave the Commonwealth?"

"No. We will leave because we have an entire eastern seaboard to explore. We will leave because the Prydwen and our greatest weapon were destroyed, weaknesses exposed that will be remedied. We will leave so that we can evolve, and not fall into the stagnation that plagued our West Coast brethren. We will leave because the means of producing synths is gone, as it should be. If a synth is ever discovered in the Capital Wasteland, or anyplace the Brotherhood have a presence, it will be destroyed."

"Understood."

"It would be easier to transport my forces if you hadn’t blown up my ship."

"If you hadn’t activated Liberty Prime, it wouldn’t have been destroyed."

"I didn’t.”

That surprised me, “I beg your pardon?”

His jaw was set, I could practically hear his teeth grind as he admitted, “Someone disobeyed orders.”

The admission was shocking. “You’ve no idea whom?”

“I have my suspicions, but I won’t know until I hear who is present and accounted for in Cambridge.”

“Of course. Speaking of Cambridge, we’ll be happy to escort you there, Elder. Any help the Minutemen can provide to expedite the Brotherhood of Steel's departure will be given. I'll inform the Minutemen to let the Brotherhood leave."

"If I can borrow your radio tower, I'll order the Brotherhood to assemble in Cambridge without engaging Minutemen forces."

"And hopefully none of our soldiers will disobey orders."

"Mine won't," he said with perfect confidence, and a look in his eyes that eloquently expressed what would happen to those who had.

I retrieved the keys from the solitary guard and escorted Elder Maxson to the Castle courtyard. The Minutemen looked at us curiously as we passed. Preston, Danse, and Valentine were all gathered near Radio Freedom talking with Shaw. Danse held his helmet under his arm. Maxson frowned, and pointedly looked elsewhere.

As they saw us coming, Valentine’s eyes went wide. Preston’s jaw dropped. Danse winced, closed his eyes with a deep breath, and his expression cleared. He focused on me and said, “Shaw has been filling us in regarding activity across the Commonwealth. All of our settlements have reported a stand-off of sorts; the Brotherhood of Steel soldiers are clearly present and awaiting orders to attack. Our men are growing…” he permitted himself a slight smile, “restless. To quote a recent report from Mr. MacCready, ‘Been aiming at these bastards for hours, when do I get to shoot someone?’”

“Then there’s no time to waste,” I said. “Ms. Shaw, permit me to present Elder Arthur Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel. He and I will use Radio Freedom to signal our respective forces to stand down.”

 Everyone stared.

 “Huh,” said Shaw. “Younger than I imagined. Well, ain’t how I thought all this would end, but I don’t see why that should surprise me anymore. You just tell me what you need from the Castle. Til then, I’m going to see to those repairs and check on our wounded, if that’s alright with you?”

 I smiled, “Perfectly, Ms. Shaw. Thank you.”

 “Question." Valentine asked, "What happens after your respective armies peacefully stand down?”

 I looked at Maxson for the answer. He clearly didn't like addressing a machine, but I suppose he thought it was better than risking insult. "The Brotherhood of Steel are leaving the Commonwealth."

 "Are you serious?" Preston exclaimed. Danse was silently thunderstruck. Preston continued, "After everything, you're just… giving up?"

 "The Railroad are scattered, their headquarters destroyed. The Institute is long gone, the ability to produce more synths with them. The Brotherhood of Steel cannot afford to pour more resources into a single region of the coast so far removed from the Capital, and I have no intention of letting a single obsession dictate the Brotherhood's long-term goals. Good luck with your corner of the world, Colonel. May the Minutemen be content with it."

 "And God help the synth that wanders southward," Valentine drawled.

 "Exactly," Maxson said.

 Preston let his breath out slow and shrugged, still amazed, "Ok. Let's get you on your way."

 We issued our orders. Valentine, Danse, Preston, and I would escort Elder Maxson to Cambridge, and we would organize the departure of the Brotherhood. I informed Ms. Shaw of the Mechanist's identity and intention to work for the Minutemen. Maxson smirked when he overheard, unsurprised.

 "Institute scientists, mercenaries, abominations, and now a robotics terrorist," he said as we set off from the Castle. “Is there anyone you don’t recruit?”

 “Gunners, raiders, super mutants unacquainted with the works of Shakespeare, and Brotherhood soldiers.”

 He made an amused sound.

 “This is surreal,” Preston muttered.

 Danse chuckled, then slowed his pace, “Ferals ahead,” he reported, and he and Preston took the lead in eliminating them.

 The rest of the trip was quiet and relatively uneventful, though there were plenty of occasions to witness Elder Maxson’s skill in battle; not once did he shy from combat. I was glad that at no point did I ever have to fight this young man. He ignored Danse the entire time, maintaining his promise that Danse was dead to him. Danse did not attempt to engage.

 It was night by the time we reached the crowded bustle of Cambridge. The entire Brotherhood of Steel army present in the Commonwealth was descending upon the police station, and had spread throughout the surrounding ruined buildings to form makeshift camps while a harried and annoyed Proctor Teagan attempted to coordinate the placement of newly arrived troops.

 "Make camp wherever you can find room, everyone's using field rations until I can assess and ration out our supplies. Knight-Captain Cade's got a clinic set up next door. No, I don't know where the Elder is, or what the hell the plan is after this. Lancer-Captain Kells is on top of the station, trying to coordinate the remaining vertibirds that all want to land somewhere. Of course I heard what happened to the airport! Now go do something useful!"

 "Proctor Teagan," Maxson's voice carried, the crowd parting before him like the Red Sea.

 "About damn time! Uh, Elder, sir. What..." he noticed the rest of us, keeping our distance. "... I don't suppose they're here to surrender?"

 "They are not. I have an announcement, where can everyone hear it?"

 "Stand on the steps of the station and shout," Proctor Teagan shrugged.

 So he did. No, it is inaccurate of me to say Elder Maxson shouted. He stood on the steps to the Cambridge Police Station, waited a few minutes for everyone's attention, and spoke, his voice projecting out over the army before him like some grand commander of ancient history.

 "The Brotherhood of Steel is leaving the Commonwealth," Maxson announced. "We have spent long enough hunting synths scattered through this region. The means of producing synths were destroyed, the Railroad smuggling them is now without a headquarters to work from, and any synth remaining in the Commonwealth is by now so deeply entrenched as to be impossible to ferret out. So be it. Let the Commonwealth see the results of these machines hiding in their midst. There are other cities to be explored and purged of abominations. The Brotherhood of Steel must evolve and expand if we are to succeed in our goal to protect humanity from itself. We cannot do that if our efforts are solely focused here. We must not become stagnant and isolated. We will return to the Capital Wasteland to rebuild and take stock of what we have discovered, and then we will move on to the next target. Let the Minutemen have Boston. We have the entire eastern seaboard to explore."

 "Man makes a good speech," Preston begrudgingly muttered.

 “I like this speech better than the first one I heard him make,” Valentine commented.

 Maxson continued, “I will meet with all three Proctors, and Lancer-Captain Kells, immediately. General Holmes,” all eyes turned toward us, “has volunteered to assist with our operation. We’ll be using his resources to stock up before we leave. The rest of you, to your camps or posts. The Proctors will have instructions for you once we have a firmer plan to proceed. Dismissed.”

 Cambridge was a buzz of rumor and commentary as the soldiers followed orders. We quickly, if awkwardly, made our way inside the crowded police station. Anyone who wasn’t a Proctor or Maxson’s second in command hastened out the door. One of the soldiers leaving wore sunglasses.

 My company and I stood to the side and out of the way as the Brotherhood leadership gathered.

 “I can't believe we're asking for help from the people who blew up our ship in the first place,” Proctor Quinlan grumbled.

 "If my orders had been followed, the Prydwen would still be there," Maxson glared. "Instead, someone activated Liberty Prime, triggering the Minutemen to attack the airport as I expected them to."

 Valentine lit a cigarette and said in a low voice, “A bit ironic the machine designed to fight the Chinese ended up destroyed by a sub’s missiles.”

 Though he had intended the comment for Danse and Preston, all of the Brotherhood present stared at him.

 “A Chinese submarine’s missiles,” said Kells, skeptical.

 “How on earth did you get a Chinese submarine?!” Quinlan exclaimed with a gesture to me.

 “I was wondering the same thing,” Preston said.

 “I didn’t,” I said. “A friend of mine did. The captain turned ghoul two hundred years ago after the War, and—”

 “If we could focus,” Maxson interrupted, “please. Proctor Ingram, who knew how to activate Liberty Prime?”

 "Anyone on my team, sir, but they're all accounted for… except Dr. Li."

 I sighed, “Ah.”

 Elder Maxson took a deep breath. “Do you want to expand on that, General?”

 “I merely wonder if she wanted revenge,” I explained. “After all, first I destroyed her life with the Institute, now I was at war with the Brotherhood of Steel.”

 “You think she activated the giant robot of death just to spite you?” Preston asked.

"I could see that," muttered Proctor Ingram. Proctor Teagan nodded beside her.

 I shrugged, “We'll never know, unless she miraculously survived and somehow is found again. Unfortunately, if she managed to get out of the airport before it was destroyed, the chances of anyone ever seeing her again are slim to none, at best.” I smirked, bitterly amused, "Human minds present too many variables. It’s impossible to predict them all."

 "What?"

 I waved away the confusion, "Something a recent acquaintance of mine learned. Elder Maxson, what can the Minutemen provide to assist with your departure?”

 Thus the real planning started. Those that were on patrol or stationed further west likely wouldn’t reach Cambridge for another day or so. Paladin Brandis had returned from his mission at the Old North Church, which left only the soldiers stationed at Mass Fusion and in Concord unaccounted for.

 “Mass Fusion attacked Goodneighbor,” I said. “They lost. I wasn’t there to see it, I only know what the Mayor told me. Super mutants attacked, a bullet hit an unintended target, and things escalated. As for Concord, they sent a Knight into Sanctuary for reconnaissance. He was discovered, the rest of his team joined in the ensuing fight, and—”

 “We buried them,” Preston said. “Kept the dog tags, we can give them to you if you want.”

 Maxson remained stoic, “Thank you. Proctor Teagan, how much food do you estimate we’ll need for the walk back to the Capital Wasteland?”

 And so the planning continues.

[dvbermingham]

Chapter 9: Jazu

It was about three in the morning when we got to Tonic. I knew it was on the west side, over by 10th ave, so we drove around for a while until we spotted a few greasy looking inebriates who were walking with a little extra swing in their step, not looking for any trouble, no girls around to impress, too tired from dancing wildly through the night. This was the mid-nineties, mind you, so this kind of thing was just about to get very irritating to a lot of people.

They showed us the way — an old warehouse with no line, no bouncer, no velvet rope, just a light bulb glowing green above a door. Inside, there was a small man inside a small wooden encasement, old and chestnut brown. He looked like a fortune teller at a carnival, and took our money and told us to have fun.

Inside, smoke clouds plumed and collided like volcanic eruptions, formed a haze that swam between and through the purple and green lights. It was a wild atmosphere. The music was spastic, incredible. The kind of music Takuto listened to whenever he had the chance. The drummer led the band, calling out expletives each time one of his bandmates made his ears orgasm. It was a thrill to watch. I was glad to not have to talk anymore.

We walked up to the bar, the man there wearing a leather apron and a bow-tie, knives and strainers and jiggers attached to his apron like weapons and ammo. Matsusaka introduced himself and ordered two scotches neat. The bartender twiddled his mustache to greet us and introduced himself. Whit Bissell is what I heard, and that’s what I chose to believe. He served up the scotches and put out a plate of raw cabbage with a dipping sauce. The scotch burned its way down and we ordered another. Matsuzaka did the talking, while I watched the room. Pure human writhing, sweaty and beautiful. There were people of all ethnicities, all ages, even young boys and girls, dressed up in oversized suits and wing-tip shoes, drinking from rocks glasses and throwing them down, skidding off and slicking the dance floor to give the whole human carousel a slippery twist. No one seemed to care about anything. I finished my scotch and asked for another. For the first time that night I was feeling good.

Then I suddenly felt even better. Across the room I met the eyes of a beautiful creature, a mature woman with hips bursting from her tan high-waisted pants, a ruffled green shirt that looked softer than five-star hotel sheets. Her hair was as red as hot brick, cascading over itself like lava, the kind of hair her parents were baffled at having created, the kind of hair never seen before in the family, like the genes were biding their time, waiting to bestow it when the right person came along. Our gaze was quickly broken. She was dancing with everyone and no one all at once and for forever, her body airborne, her feet never once touching the ground. I wanted to breathe her in, smell every inch of her, let her aroma bewilder my brain. Then there was a tap on my shoulder. “Lou! What the fuck are you looking at?” Matzu handed me my third scotch. “Pay attention, alright? This place is dangerous.”

Dangerous it was indeed. Dangerous for the heart, dangerous for the soul, dangerous for what a woman like that could do to the only body I had. But Matzu was right. I forced my head in different directions, scanning the room for threats. There were quite a few people I would classify as goons or thugs or just generic intimidating security types. Nothing that seemed out of the ordinary, a fair number of Japanese men and women though, the security definitely sushi. What did a place like this have to worry about? What did it hold? Who did it attract?

The hot jazz explosion on stage came to denouement with the drummer executing a long solo that in my sloshy mind turned him into a cartoon octopus. The crowd roared, the band screamed, the cymbals clattered and the kick drums shook and the musicians started backing up as though their leader was about to self-immolate. Two people in the middle of the dance floor fainted, several more threw their drinks in the air, liquid courage showering the room. It felt like New Years Eve.

The drummer fell off his chair in a show of exhaustion, then bounced back up as soon as the clapping turned to a chant, all smiles. He straightened everything, held up his hand to quiet the audience, a call of a new mood. The frenzy came to a hush — soon all you could hear was heavy breathing, giggles, suggestive whispers. The trumpeter started up something slow and blue. The dance floor paired off, the bass showing them the way, slowly. Then the shhhhh of a brush on the ride, more slowly now, dragging the band a half-step back. I scanned the dance floor with hopes to see her again — she was pulling her hair back in an effort to cool off, revealing a thick neck I wanted to explore with the tip of my nose.

She watched as I walked toward her, the sea of dancers separating, my tribe cheering me on. My momentum carried me too far, and I found myself unable to stop my body from crashing into hers. Luckily, a woman of such magnitude had no problem side-stepping my oafish clumsiness, catching me by the arm, spinning me around, and leading the way. We danced for what felt like an eternity. Neither of us spoke, our bodies turning and turning over on each other, the bar and the other dancers having long faded away, leaving only the rhythms and us.

Of course that moment passed, gone forever, a moment I will never get back but am grateful to have had at all. The music kicked into another gear, and I realized I had been away from my post, had left my mark. I severed, but before I could, she pulled me back by my forearm and asked me my name. I said Lou, Lou Mastiff, and she said hers was Vicky Felix. I told her I had to go, that I was working, and I saw no concern on her face, no sense of loss, no pining. I, however, pined. I pined immediately for the dance that just ended. But there she went, away to dance alone again, never losing an inch of that smile, as though knowing something she was sure I would soon know as well.

Matsuzaka watched me the whole way back to the bar. “Sorry I just had to get that out of my system,” I said.

He shook his head. “No worries Lou. It was fun watching. You’re a good dancer.”

“I am?”

“I wish I could dance like that.”

“I could teach you.”

“Unfortunately I’m a little focused on not getting shanked in the alley, so maybe we can push off the dance lessons a few weeks, hm?”

“Right I’m s—“

“While you were over there over there with Miss Hipswivels I’ve been here talking to my new friend Mr. Bissell. He tells me there was quite a scene here a couple weeks ago involving our friend Takuto. Turns out Takuto had a bit of a drug problem. Got him into some trouble with the local dealers I guess.”

“Drugs?”

"The devil’s sushi rice. Colombian short-grain. Brought out his aggressive side. I guess that was enough for Senju to give the okay for him to get taken out. No sense in jeopardizing the whole city of New York for one junkie, right?”

“I never realized,” I said.

“That’s what my new friend Whit here seems to think. And if that’s the case, then we, my friend, are in the clear. Raise a glass. You too Mr. Bissell. A toast to our dearly departed friend Boss Takuto. And to new beginnings. And to New York!”

“To sushi!”

“Here here.”

We drank. Matzu ordered another round and we turned our attention back to the band, which was putting forth glorious noise feasted on by the pack of insatiable hyenas on the dance floor. I tried to pick out Vicky Felix, but she was no where to be found. I told them I’d be right back and went to go look. As I moved through the frenzy I got the feeling again, the same one that I got in the alley outside Takuto’s apartment, that same feeling that came too late, after he had already been cut up and left for dead. I glanced to the perimeter of the room and the guards had shifted, and multiplied. Some were in among the dancers, others were moving in groups of two and three. I turned to the bar. Neither Whit nor Matzu were there, just a couple of jazz freaks trying to get a round of drinks. That’s when I felt a hand on my shoulder, a pistol in my side. Turn around sir, I heard him say. And don’t make a scene.

I was sandwiched between two Japanese men with long hair and black suits. They moved me through the crowd with ease. The trumpeter and I made eye contact and he blew a little harder. I tried to swivel my head one last time to see if Ms. Felix was anywhere near by and got a nice clock in the spine for it. Keep moving, buddy, he said, jamming the pistol deeper into my kidney.

I was relieved to find no aquatic themes in the back room of the club. There were no decorations at all, just exposed pipes, uneven floors, ceiling rot, peeled paint. The metal chair bolted to the floor had little metal jags on the corners which tore my clothes as my body absorbed the alternating slaps and punches and the occasional stomp. The slaps actually hurt more than the punches. With this mass my body can absorb any number of direct blows, but something about the tautness of my skin, maybe due to being overworked trying to retain all the blubbery bits inside of me, it’s a little more sensitive than most other parts of my body. This guy, the slapper, seemed a well-practiced skin-stinger. Still, years of taking beatings gave me the ability to dissociate from the pain and the torture of it all so I just kind of coast through and deal with the physical trauma later. As for the psychological trauma, well, I just hope I die before I ever have to deal with that.  

“I’ll tell you whatever you want,” I said, trying to gauge what level of back-rooming we were dealing with here. But they hadn’t asked me anything, didn’t seem to care. Like a classically trained boxer I sat there absorbing everything those henchmen could give me. Then I hit them with some basic trivia, current events or pop culture from decades ago, general knowledge type stuff. This was a tactic I learned years ago from one of my early mentors Don “Loopie” Loper, back in my days as a caddie. When I was starting out, the best way to get into the hired goon industry was through your local caddy program. Loopie told me that when he was getting worked over by a couple of tough guys you wanted to tire out without getting yourself too messed up, just quiz them a little. Nothing too hard. Give them questions they feel like they probably know or used to know once upon a time. It distracts them, makes them feel inadequate, but it won’t enrage them. It’s a subtle defanging that creates self-doubt. Punches will land a little softer after that.

As the one part of my mind took care of the beating-end of business, the other part, the one hiding deep in the brain-bunker, began trying to remember those last few moments between when I walked away from Matzu and when I turned to find him gone. Had I seen anything suspicious? What did Whit Bissell’s face say to me when I slugged back that fourth scotch? Did he smile? Did he glance to the corners of the room?

A while went by — who knows how long. At some point I glanced at my new friends through what I assumed were my swollen eyelids and saw them panting, a little sweaty on the brow, a little hunched over, and I decided it was about time. I stood up, grabbed them both by their wrists and squeezed. Right there I heard two separate snaps. I held on, squeezed some more. That was another trick Loopie taught me. The old adage “break the wrist, walk away” was for amateurs. Professionals snap the wrist and hold on, they squeeze, grind up those little bird bones into dust. Make the pain so intense and long lasting that your enemies collapse that their whole bodies quake and they wet themselves. Then let go.

Out front the band was packing up. A few people still lingered, flirting with the musicians, sucking back the remaining ice in their highball glasses.  Security had vanished. I let my nose guide me to the smell of fresh city air.

Night was over. The sun was making its way over the horizon, giving the sky a nice peachy preview of the day to come. It was going to be a warm one. High humidity, hazy sky. I tried to catch my breath enough to get walking, seeing as I didn’t want to hang around the club much longer.  That’s when I heard a voice. A woman’s voice. A voice that made my buttocks tingle. I looked over to what appeared to be a small cluster of bikers wearing cut off shirts, long hair, standing around their motorcycles.

“The big bad Mastiff got away,” she said. Now I knew my eyes were swollen, as I saw her figure walk towards me, I was unable to make out a single feature. Instead I smelled a glorious sweet aroma, hers and only hers. “Looks like they did a number on you.”

“I’d say you should see the other guys, but honestly, it’s just two grown man who’ve pissed their pants.”

“You got a ride?”

“I’ll just hail a cab.”

“Nonsense. I’ll take you home.”

We rode without helmets down the empty New York streets, too early for traffic, maybe it was a Sunday.  I felt the air whisk away the dried blood crusts off the corners of my mouth. Vicky took local streets, coasting through red lights, swerving across four lanes and back again, taking her time. I saw the sun cast double in the river as we crossed the bridge headed to Brooklyn. The air smelled different above the streets, closing in on a new borough. I became overwhelmed with emotion, thinking of how I lost Matzu, how I left the tuna, how I might be 0-8, or is it 0-7, I couldn’t remember. The sight of Brooklyn made me wonder how much of the world was really out there for me to explore, and what exactly was holding me back.

We pulled up to a big building on Atlantic ave, across the street from some Lebanese grocers. It was an old concrete thing with the words Ex-Lax carved into stone above the entryway. She said it was the old factory, or one of them, she didn’t know. When we got inside she told me to flop down on the couch while she runs a bath. There was nothing I wanted more than a nice flop, and she knew it. She could tell that’s what I needed, knowing me only a couple hours. I knew I had found someone special.

[jrspipessandtubes]

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Applications of MS Pipes

MS pipes are used in a wide range of applications, including:

Construction: MS pipes are used for structural applications, such as scaffolding, railings, and handrails. They are also used for plumbing and piping systems.

Oil and Gas Industry: MS pipes are used for oil and gas pipelines, as well as for casing and tubing in oil wells.

Agriculture: MS pipes are used for irrigation systems and for fencing.

Automotive Industry: MS pipes are used for exhaust systems and for frames and chassis.

Benefits of Using MS Pipes from JRS Pipes And Tubes

There are many benefits to using MS pipes from JRS Pipes And Tubes, including:

High Quality: Our MS pipes are manufactured using high-quality raw materials and state-of-the-art technology, ensuring that they are durable, reliable, and long-lasting.

Wide Range of Sizes and Specifications: We offer a wide range of MS pipes in various sizes and specifications to meet the diverse needs of our customers.

Competitive Prices: We offer competitive prices on our MS pipes, making them an affordable solution for your needs.

Excellent Customer Service: We are committed to providing our customers with excellent customer service. We have a team of experienced professionals who are always ready to help you find the right MS pipes for your needs.

Contact JRS Pipes And Tubes Today

If you are looking for a reliable and affordable supplier of MS pipes in Ghaziabad, contact JRS Pipes And Tubes today. We will be happy to discuss your needs and provide you with a quote.

Company Contact Information:

Company: JRS Pipes And Tubes

Mobile: 9643472264

Address: Plot №19, Prakash Industrial Estate, Sahibabad, Uttar Pradesh — 201005 (INDIA)

Website:  MS Pipe Dealers In Ghaziabad

Additional Information:

We are open from 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM, Monday through Saturday.

We offer a variety of payment options, including cash, check, and credit card.

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Pipe Wholesalers Distributors Near Me

In the construction industry, pipes play a crucial role in transporting fluids and gases. They are essential components of plumbing systems, irrigation systems, and various industrial applications. Pipes Wholesalers, therefore, play a vital role in ensuring the availability of these essential products.

JRS Pipes and Tubes is a leading pipe wholesaler in India, offering a wide range of pipes and tubes to cater to diverse customer needs. With an extensive network of distributors spread across the country, JRS Pipes and Tubes ensures that its products are readily available to customers in various regions.

Company Overview

JRS Pipes and Tubes is a renowned manufacturer and supplier of pipes and tubes in India. Established in 1995, the company has earned a reputation for its high-quality products, competitive prices, and exceptional customer service. JRS Pipes and Tubes adheres to stringent quality standards and employs cutting-edge technology to produce pipes and tubes that meet the demanding requirements of various industries.

Product Range

JRS Pipes and Tubes offers a comprehensive range of pipes and tubes, including:

Steel pipes

Stainless steel pipes

Copper pipes

PVC pipes

HDPE pipes

The company's pipes and tubes are available in various sizes, thicknesses, and grades to suit specific applications.

Distributors Network

JRS Pipes and Tubes has a strong network of distributors spread across India. These distributors play a crucial role in reaching customers in remote areas and providing them with prompt and efficient service.

Why Choose JRS Pipes and Tubes?

There are several reasons why JRS Pipes and Tubes is a preferred choice for pipe wholesalers and distributors:

High Quality Products: JRS Pipes and Tubes is committed to providing high-quality pipes and tubes that meet international standards.

Competitive Prices: The company offers competitive prices on its products, making them an attractive option for customers.

Extensive Product Range: JRS Pipes and Tubes offers a wide range of pipes and tubes to cater to diverse customer needs.

Strong Distributor Network: The company has a strong network of distributors spread across India, ensuring that its products are readily available to customers.

Exceptional Customer Service: JRS Pipes and Tubes is committed to providing exceptional customer service, ensuring that customers have a positive experience.

Finding JRS Pipes and Tubes Distributors

If you are looking for JRS Pipes and Tubes distributors near you, you can find them on the company's website or by contacting the company directly. The company's website provides a list of distributors along with their contact information.

Conclusion

JRS Pipes and Tubes is a leading pipe wholesaler in India, offering high-quality products, competitive prices, and exceptional customer service. The company's extensive network of distributors ensures that its products are readily available to customers across the country. If you are looking for a reliable and trustworthy pipe wholesaler, JRS Pipes and Tubes is an excellent choice.

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MS Pipe Manufacturers and Suppliers in Sahibabad-Ghaziabad

MS pipes, also known as mild steel pipes, are widely used in various industries due to their versatility, affordability, and durability. Ghaziabad, in Uttar Pradesh, is a prominent hub for MS pipe manufacturing, housing numerous companies that cater to diverse requirements. This article delves into the MS Pipe Manufacturers In Ghaziabad, highlighting leading manufacturers, their product offerings, and the factors that contribute to Ghaziabad's prominence in this sector.

Leading MS Pipe Manufacturers in Ghaziabad

Ghaziabad boasts of a thriving MS pipe manufacturing industry, with JRS Pipes & Tubes Company established in the region. The company utilizes state-of-the-art technology and adheres to stringent quality standards to produce high-quality MS Pipe Dealers that meet the demands of various applications.

JRS Pipes And Tubes is a prominent MS pipe manufacturer in Ghaziabad, renowned for its extensive product range and commitment to quality. The company offers a wide variety of MS pipes, including ERW pipes, seamless pipes, and galvanized pipes, catering to diverse applications in construction, infrastructure, and other industries.

Product Offerings of MS Pipe Manufacturers in Ghaziabad

MS pipe manufacturers in Ghaziabad offer a wide array of products to meet the varied needs of their customers. These products can be broadly categorized into three main types:

ERW pipes: ERW pipes, also known as Electric Resistance Welded pipes, are manufactured using a continuous welding process that produces strong, seamless pipes. They are widely used in construction, plumbing, and industrial applications.

Seamless pipes: Seamless pipes are produced by extruding a solid billet of steel, resulting in a uniform and non-porous pipe. They are known for their high strength and pressure-bearing capacity, making them ideal for applications in oil and gas, power generation, and chemical processing.

Galvanized pipes: Galvanized pipes are ERW or seamless pipes that have been coated with a layer of zinc to protect against corrosion. They are commonly used in outdoor applications, such as water supply, irrigation systems, and fire protection systems.

Factors Contributing to Ghaziabad's Prominence in MS Pipe Manufacturing

Several factors contribute to Ghaziabad's prominence in the MS pipe manufacturing industry:

Strategic Location: Ghaziabad's proximity to major industrial centers and transportation hubs provides manufacturers with easy access to raw materials and efficient distribution channels.

Availability of Skilled Labor: Ghaziabad has a large pool of skilled labor experienced in MS pipe manufacturing, ensuring a steady supply of qualified workers.

Supportive Infrastructure: Ghaziabad boasts well-developed industrial infrastructure, including electricity, water, and transportation facilities, conducive to manufacturing operations.

Government Initiatives: The Uttar Pradesh government has implemented various policies and incentives to promote the growth of the MS pipe manufacturing industry in Ghaziabad.

Conclusion

Ghaziabad's MS pipe manufacturing industry is driven by a combination of factors such as strategic location, skilled labor, supporting infrastructure and government initiatives. JRS Pipes and Tubes is at the forefront of this industry, providing high-quality MS Pipes that meet diverse applications in various sectors. As Ghaziabad continues to grow, its MS pipe manufacturing industry is poised for further growth and success.

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MS Pipe Distributor in Sahibabad-Ghaziabad At Best Price

One of the best MS Pipe Dealers in Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh, is JRS Pipes and Tubes. We provide the most affordable prices on the market for an extensive variety of MS pipes. Our pipes are strong, long-lasting, and constructed from premium materials. Our goal is to give our clients the finest possible experience and happiness.

MS Pipes

Mild steel, a kind of steel with relatively low carbon content, is used to make MS pipes. MS pipes are a well-liked option for numerous applications since they are robust, adaptable, and reasonably priced. They are frequently utilized in irrigation, plumbing, and building.

Types of MS Pipes

There are many varieties of MS pipes available, all of which have special qualities and uses. The most popular types of MS pipes are the following:

• MS Round Pipe: The most popular kind of MS pipe, these pipes are used in many different applications.

• MS Rectangular Pipe: These pipes are frequently used for support and framing in construction.

• MS Square Pipe: Despite having a square cross-section, these pipes resemble MS rectangle pipes.

• Seamless Pipes: These pipes have no welds and are constructed from a single piece of steel. Compared to welded MS pipes, they are more costly and stronger.

Why Should You Use JRS Pipes And Tubes?

There are many reasons why you should work with JRS Pipes And Tubes as your MS pipe dealer in Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh. Here are a few examples of this:

• We have the most affordable prices on MS pipes on the market.

• Our pipes are manufactured of high-quality materials and are solid and long-lasting. 

• We have a large selection of MS pipes to choose from

• We are dedicated to giving the finest service and satisfaction to our customers.

Products We Offer

We provide a broad variety of MS pipes, including

• MS Round Pipes 

• MS Rectangular Pipes

• MS Square Pipes 

• MS Seamless Pipes 

• Galvanized Iron Pipes (GI Pipes) 

• Ductile Iron Pipes

Our Products and Services

We provide our customers using a variety of services, including: 

• Cutting and threading

• Galvanizing

• Painting

• Delivery

Contact Us

If you are looking for a reliable and affordable MS Pipe Dealers in Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh, please contact JRS Pipes And Tubes today. We will be happy to answer any questions you have and provide you with a free quote.

Company: JRS Pipes And Tubes

Address: Plot №19, Prakash Industrial Estate, Sahibabad, Uttar Pradesh — 201005 (INDIA)

Mobile No: +91 9643472264

Website: MS Pipe Manufacturers In Ghaziabad

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What is the Weight of the 500 NB MS Pipe?

The world of construction and infrastructure runs on the sturdy backbone of MS pipes. These versatile marvels are essential for carrying fluids, gases, and even structural support. But when it comes to planning and procurement, a crucial question often arises: What is the weight of a 500 NB MS pipe?

Understanding the weight of your chosen MS pipe Dealers is vital for various reasons. It helps determine transportation costs, influences structural calculations, and even impacts project budgets. However, with a multitude of factors at play, calculating the exact weight can be a head-scratcher.

Worry not, for JRS Pipes And Tubes, your trusted MS Pipe Manufacturers In Ghaziabad, are here to demystify the equation!

Decoding the Weight of a 500 NB MS Pipe: A Step-by-Step Guide

Understanding NB and its Significance

NB, or Nominal Bore, is a standard pipe size designation used globally. It roughly represents the internal diameter of the pipe, but not exactly. For a 500 NB MS pipe, the actual internal diameter might be slightly smaller, around 493.7 mm.

Unveiling the Schedule: A Matter of Thickness

Schedule refers to the pipe's wall thickness relative to its diameter. Different schedules, like Schedule 40 or Schedule 80, dictate varying weight per unit length. Knowing the specific schedule is crucial for accurate weight calculation.

Material Matters: MS Steel and its Density

MS, or Mild Steel, is the most common material for pipes due to its affordability and strength. Its density, approximately 7850 kg/m³, plays a key role in determining the overall weight.

Putting it All Together: The Weight Formula

Now, the magic happens! With the above information, we can use the following formula:

Weight per meter = (π * Outer Diameter * Wall Thickness * Density) / 1000

Note: This formula assumes a circular cross-section. For rectangular or square MS pipes, additional calculations are needed based on their dimensions.

The Grand Reveal: Weight of a 500 NB MS Pipe

Let's take an example. Consider a 500 NB MS pipe with Schedule 40 and a wall thickness of 8.19 mm. Using the formula and MS steel density, we get:

Weight per meter = (π * 508 mm * 8.19 mm * 7850 kg/m³) / 1000 = 247.85 kg/m

Therefore, a 5 meter length of this 500 NB MS pipe would weigh approximately 1239.25 kg.

Beyond the Numbers: Why Choose

JRS Pipes And Tubes, Leading MS Pipe Dealers In Ghaziabad?

At JRS, we understand that your projects demand more than just accurate weights. You need reliable, high-quality MS pipes that meet stringent standards and deliver lasting performance. That's why we go beyond the numbers, offering:

Unwavering Commitment to Quality: Our MS pipes are manufactured using premium raw materials and cutting-edge technology, ensuring adherence to national and international standards.

Extensive Inventory and Customization: Whether you need a standard 500 NB MS pipe or a custom-sized solution, we have the inventory and expertise to fulfill your precise requirements.

In-depth Technical Expertise: Our team of experienced professionals is always happy to assist you with weight calculations, schedule selection, and any other technical queries you may have.

Prompt Deliveries and Competitive Pricing: We understand the importance of timely deliveries and budget constraints. We strive to deliver your MS pipes efficiently and offer competitive prices without compromising on quality.

Your One-Stop Shop for MS Pipes and Peace of Mind

Choosing the right MS pipe goes beyond just knowing its weight. It's about selecting a partner who understands your needs and delivers excellence. At JRS Pipes And Tubes, we are more than just MS Pipe Manufacturers In Ghaziabad. We are your trusted collaborators, committed to helping you build with confidence and achieve enduring results.

So, the next time you need MS pipes, don't let weight calculations hold you back. Contact JRS Pipes And Tubes, your gateway to reliable, high-quality MS pipes and expert guidance. Let us help you unravel the mysteries of pipe weights and build your projects with unwavering strength and peace of mind.

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Revolutionizing Construction: Trusted Pipes Wholesalers in Ghaziabad

In the bustling industrial hub of Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh, JRS Pipes And Tubes stand as the epitome of excellence in the world of pipes and tubes. As prominent Pipes Wholesalers, they redefine the standards, providing unparalleled products and services.

Your Ultimate MS Pipe Manufacturers in Ghaziabad

Are you on the lookout for superior quality MS pipes? Look no further! JRS Pipes And Tubes take pride in being the go-to MS Pipe Manufacturers in Ghaziabad. With a commitment to excellence and durability, they deliver products that withstand the test of time.

Quality Assurance: JRS - The Trustworthy MS Pipe Dealer Near Me

When it comes to reliability, JRS Pipes And Tubes emerge as the most trusted MS Pipe Dealer Near Me. Their commitment to quality assurance is unwavering, ensuring that every product meets stringent standards. Your satisfaction is their priority.

Why Choose JRS Pipes And Tubes?

Unmatched Quality in Every Inch

JRS Pipes And Tubes prioritize quality over everything else. With cutting-edge technology and stringent quality checks, they ensure that every inch of their pipes and tubes exceeds industry standards.

Extensive Range for Varied Needs

Whether you are a contractor, builder, or individual customer, JRS Pipes And Tubes have a diverse range of pipes to cater to your specific needs. From standard sizes to custom orders, they've got you covered.

Competitive Pricing for Your Budget

Quality doesn't always come with a hefty price tag. JRS Pipes And Tubes believe in offering competitive pricing without compromising on the quality of their products. Your satisfaction shouldn't break the bank.

Experience the JRS Advantage Today!

Transform your construction projects with JRS Pipes And Tubes. As the leading Pipes Wholesalers and MS Pipe Manufacturers in Ghaziabad, they bring a touch of reliability and excellence to every project. Don't settle for mediocrity; choose JRS for a seamless experience.

Contact JRS Pipes And Tubes Today

Ready to elevate your construction projects? Contact JRS Pipes And Tubes today and experience the JRS advantage. Your satisfaction is not just a goal; it's their commitment.

Company: JRS Pipes And Tubes

Mobile No: 9643472264

Address: Plot No.19, Prakash Industrial Estate, Sahibabad, Uttar Pradesh - 201005 (INDIA)

Website: MS Pipe Dealers In Ghaziabad

Conclusion

JRS Pipes And Tubes stand as a testament to quality, reliability, and innovation in the realm of pipes and tubes. Trust them to be your partner in every construction endeavour.

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Unveiling Top-Quality MS Pipe Dealers Near You

In the ever-evolving landscape of construction materials, finding reliable MS Pipe Dealer Near Me is paramount for ensuring the success and longevity of your projects. At JRS Pipes And Tubes, we take pride in being the go-to destination for high-quality MS pipes Dealers that meet and exceed industry standards. In this comprehensive guide, we'll delve into the nuances of MS pipes, highlight the key factors that set us apart, and showcase why choosing us is a decision that resonates with quality and reliability.

Understanding the Essence of MS Pipes

Mild Steel (MS) pipes form the backbone of many construction projects due to their versatility and durability. Whether you are involved in residential construction, infrastructure development, or industrial projects, the choice of MS pipes plays a pivotal role in ensuring structural integrity. Our commitment to excellence begins with the meticulous selection of top-grade raw materials for manufacturing, guaranteeing a product that stands the test of time.

Unmatched Quality Assurance

Rigorous Testing Protocols

At JRS Pipes And Tubes, we understand that quality is non-negotiable. Our MS pipes undergo a series of stringent tests to ensure compliance with international standards. From dimensional accuracy to mechanical properties, each pipe is subjected to meticulous scrutiny, guaranteeing a product that not only meets but exceeds expectations.

Cutting-Edge Manufacturing Facilities

Our state-of-the-art manufacturing facilities are equipped with the latest technology, ensuring precision in every step of the production process. The seamless integration of advanced machinery and skilled craftsmanship results in MS pipes that boast impeccable finish, structural uniformity, and exceptional strength.

Wide Array of Products to Cater to Every Need

Diverse Size Range

Understanding the diverse needs of our clientele, we offer an extensive range of MS pipes in various sizes. Whether you require pipes for plumbing, structural applications, or specialized projects, our inventory is designed to accommodate a spectrum of requirements.

Customization Options

Recognizing that every project is unique, we provide customization options to tailor our MS pipes to your specific needs. From varying thicknesses to specialized coatings, we empower you to make choices that align with the intricacies of your project.

Unbeatable Accessibility

Nationwide Presence

Ensuring accessibility to our high-quality MS pipes is at the core of our mission. With a network of dealers and distributors spanning the nation, we bring our products closer to you. No matter where your project is located, JRS Pipes And Tubes is synonymous with proximity and reliability.

Efficient Supply Chain

Our streamlined supply chain management ensures that your orders are processed promptly and reach you in the shortest possible time. We understand that project timelines are critical, and our commitment to timely deliveries sets us apart in the industry.

Client-Centric Approach

Dedicated Customer Support

At JRS Pipes And Tubes, we prioritize customer satisfaction. Our dedicated customer support team is ready to assist you at every step, from product inquiries to post-purchase assistance. Your success is our success, and we are committed to fostering lasting partnerships.

Transparent Pricing

We believe in transparency in all our dealings. Our pricing structure is competitive and devoid of hidden costs, allowing you to plan your project budget with confidence.

The JRS Pipes Advantage

Choosing JRS Pipes And Tubes as your preferred MS pipe supplier is not just a decision; it's an investment in quality, reliability, and success. Our unwavering commitment to excellence, coupled with a client-centric approach, positions us as the frontrunners in the industry.

Conclusion

In the realm of construction materials, the significance of choosing the right MS pipe dealer cannot be overstated. JRS Pipes And Tubes stands as a beacon of quality, offering not just products but solutions that elevate your projects. Trust us to be your partner in success, providing MS pipes that redefine industry standards.

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Find the Best MS Pipe Dealers Near You and Save

High-quality MS Pipe Dealers are in high demand in the fast-paced world of building and infrastructure development these pipes, made from mild steel, and are known for their durability, versatility, and cost-effectiveness, making them a popular choice for a wide range of applications, from plumbing and irrigation systems to structural support and scaffolding.

If you're on the lookout for the best MS Pipe Dealers Near Me, look no further than JRS Pipes And Tuebs. With a commitment to providing exceptional customer service and a vast inventory of high-quality MS pipes, JRS Pipes And Tubes is your one-stop shop for all your MS pipe needs.

Why Choose JRS Pipes And Tubes?

At JRS Pipes And Tubes, we understand the importance of having reliable and trustworthy suppliers. That's why we've made it our mission to exceed your expectations with our unparalleled service and commitment to quality. Here are just a few reasons why you should choose JRS Pipes And Tubes as your preferred MS pipe dealer:

Vast Inventory: We maintain a comprehensive inventory of MS pipes in various sizes, grades, and specifications, ensuring that you can find the perfect pipes for your specific project requirements.

Unmatched Quality: We source our MS pipes from reputable manufacturers, guaranteeing that you receive only the highest quality products that meet stringent industry standards.

Expert Guidance: Our knowledgeable and experienced staff is always available to provide expert advice and assist you in selecting the right MS pipes for your project.

Competitive Prices: We strive to offer competitive prices without compromising on quality, ensuring that you get the best value for your money.

Prompt Delivery: We understand the importance of timely deliveries, and we'll work closely with you to ensure that your MS pipes arrive when you need them.

Your Partner in Success

At JRS Pipes And Tubes, we believe in building strong partnerships with our customers. We're not just a supplier; we're your trusted partner in success. Our goal is to help you achieve your project objectives by providing you with the best possible MS pipes and services.

Contact Us Today

With regard to all of your MS pipe needs, JRS Pipes And Tubes is here to help, whether you're a professional supplier or a do-it-yourself dedicated. Get in contact with us right now to discuss over the details of your project and see how we can help you find the nearest MS pipe dealers and save money.

Company: JRS Pipes And Tubes

Mobile No: 9643472264

Website: https://jrspipesandtubes.com/

Address: Plot No.19, Prakash Industrial Estate, Sahibabad, Uttar Pradesh - 201005 (INDIA)