Chapter Two: Parsnips

Well here's something that has recently been brought to my attention, by a Polish friend of mine. Apparently, 'Pasternak' is the Polish word for pasnip. Yes, the vegetable parsnip. So that's definitely interesting lol But anyway, on with the story!

I do not own Fallout New Vegas, that belongs to Bethesda and Obsidian

As Benny slowly regained consciousness, with his head feeling like it had just been hit by a ceiling fan, he quickly tried getting a hold of the situation he was in. That woman, the blondie, he'd taken her to his room, she showed him her charlies and then….and then what? It was all fuzzy after all, like his memories had gotten scrambled or something. As the head of the Chairmen tried to get up, he found that he couldn't; his arms and legs were tied to the bed, and his mouth was gagged.

'Maybe I went too night last far…' Benny thought.

After all, it wasn't like the old Ben-man was vanilla in bed; he was always willing to try something new. But something about this whole situation, not remembering last night, the dame and the restraints, it just didn't sit right in Benny.

The sound of a door opening woke Benny from his thoughts, as the Chairman leader looked over at his bathroom. The pieces of the puzzle started fitting together, as the Courier exited. Benny was stuck and there was only one way he was leaving this room, and that was in a body bag.

"Sorry to keep you waiting there, my dear Benny. I needed to dunk my head in some ice cold water.." Pasternak explained, a cold smile etched onto his irradiated face. "The Mojave desert is quite a pain for a Ghoul such as myself; radiation destroyed most of my sweat glands and I heat up quite easily. I hope you don't mind waiting?"

Waiting? Benny was ready to wait til the Battle of Hoover Dam, if it meant he didn't end up buried in the ground. The head of the Chairmen needed a miracle, and he needed it now. Why did Lady Luck have to leave him to dry today, of all days?

"Of course you don't mind. Such a gracious host." Pasternak continued. "I told you my dear Jazz, that Benny here would be a gracious host."

Benny lifted his head up, to see the woman in question sitting on a nearby seat. Jazz was no longer showing off her charlies to the whole world, but instead was back in her dress. She also looked different to Benny; she didn't have that wide smile or air-headed aura to her anymore. Instead she had a scowl etched onto her face and her eyes looked as cold as ice. Had to believe that this was the same woman that Benny had been wanting to take to bed before.

"Enough with the bullshit, Russell." Jazz muttered. "Kill this prick and be done with it; I have work in the morning."

Silence reigned after that, before the Courier just shook his head. The Ghoul walked over to Benny and sat down on the bed, the mattress creaking slightly from the added weight. Those black orbs that Pasternak had for eyes, it was sending shivers down Benny's spine. He wasn't a guy who was easily frightened, but this was not a normal look one guy gave another; no this was a look a Deathclaw would give to an injured Brahmin.

"You thought you were clever at Goodsprings, eh? I hate to admit it, but you did manage to get the drop on me." Pasternak stated. "You showed an amazing amount of intelligence that day, Benny. It's just a shame that you had to use that intelligence against me, rather than for me, otherwise you wouldn't be in this situation.."


Patience was a trait that seemed to be practically extinct nowadays. Everyone wanted things now, and they were more than willing to kill to get what they wanted. It was pathetic, in a way; instead of waiting and reaping long-term benefits, people preferred being short-sighted and refused to change. Things may change, but people will always stay the same.

Pasternak knew patience though, it was a skill he needed. Waiting for the right moment, strategizing and planning, not rushing into something without careful thought, all skills that Pasternak had honed over the years. They were skills that had saved his life on more than one occasion.

Those three months spent as a POW in a Chinese prison, having to work for both the crime world and with the American government and avoided getting killed by either side, those long weeks spent holed up inside a bunker waiting for the radiation levels to decrease…patience proved to be a valuable ally, one that helped prevent Pasternak from going crazy. Patience was a tough mistress to please, but a rewarding one when you gained her favour. And it looked like patience would reward Pasternak again, as he reached the Goodsprings cemetery.

"Nice to see you've finally arrived, Mr Gecko." Pasternak stated. "And looks like you've brought some company with you."

Standing in the open air, surrounded by a gang of Great Khans, was the head of the Chairmen Benny Gecko. Hard to believe that this man used to be a tribal, given the ugly white-and-black plaid jacket and the wing tipped shoes he was currently sporting. But it would be foolish to write the man off as a pushover. After all, if there was one thing Pasternak knew, it was that looks can be deceiving.

"Hey there no need for formalities pal! You can call me Benny, or the Ben-man as my friends call me." Benny stated, lit cigarette in hand. "And sorry about the wait. We ran into a bit of trouble a way back, some Fiends deciding to not play cool and itching for a bit of fisticuffs."

"I told you not to engage into any fights, Mr Gecko." Pasternak stated. "My plans hinge on you being alive, as you're the only Three Families leader I can trust."

"Hey there buddy, let's be cool here." Benny answered. "One of the Khans got a bit too excited and went at it alone. I wouldn't willingly get into a scrap with any Fiend; those crazy cats would take on a Deathclaw with just a knife."

"That may be, but I trust nothing like this will happen again. Your death would prove to be quite a major setback." The Courier replied. "Now did you complete your task?"

"Job went as smooth as silk, boss man. Gave the Securitron a mickey in the form of a pulse grenade, no-one even noticed." Benny said. "Once he was on the nod, I yanked some wires and dragged him up to the workshop. Only problem is not exactly a tech man, so had to pull a few strings and get a bit of an assist."

"Who did you get involved?" Pasternak inquired. "Because this sounds like a loose end, and you should know I am not a fan of loose ends."

"No worries boss man, that end is all tied up. Got a gal named Emily, one of the Followers over in Freeside, a real whiz when it comes to things technical. She programmed his personality." Benny responded. "So how about you? You managed to pick up the package?"

Pasternak responded to the question, but not with words. He responded with a gesture, as he pulled out the Platinum Chip from one of his waistcoat pockets. The grin on Benny's face seemed to grow even wider, like a Cheshire Cat, as his eyes focused onto the prize in Pasternak's hand.

"Ring a ding ding, baby. That's our ticket to easy street, right there." Benny announced. "Let's pop some bubbly eh? Cause this is definitely a time to celebrate."

Bottle of beers quickly appeared, as Benny handed Pasternak one. It felt surprisingly cold in the Ghoul's hand, causing a frown to appear on his irradiated face. How the hell did they manage this one?

"I may have told a bit of a white lie, we've been here for a few hours now." Benny explained. "We stopped by the bar and got a few beers, to celebrate this little achievement of ours. Now come and drink up boss man, don't be a square."

A stare was shared between the two men, before Pasternak finally relented. The Ghoul put the bottle to his irradiated lips, but didn't drink the beer inside. Why would he do that? He's been poisoned before, and it'd definitely made Pasternak a lot more cautious about accepting gifts from strangers.

"Nice to see you're hip, boss man." Benny stated, a grin on his face. "We've rigged the game here in our favours, only question is when to swoop in and take Vegas. Heh, would love to see the face on Mr Not-At-Home when he figures out what we've done."

"Let's just hope he only knows what is going on, when it's time for him to know." Pasternak retorted. "I would not like to end up on Mr House's bad side until the moment is right; he has connections that run as deep as mine do."

"No need for quaking boots boss man, we've got this in the bag." Benny answered. "How do you think I got to lead the Chairmen? Cause when I want something, I'll do whatever I can to rig the game in my favour."

"So have I heard, Mr Gecko." Pasternak retorted. "Hard to believe that a man like you was once just a common tribal."

"Well times change, and definitely for the better." Benny stated. "Working at the Strip definitely has its perks, let me tell you."

"So why betray House in the first place?" Pasternak inquired.

"Mr Not-At-Home hides Vegas under his skirt when the bombs fall a thousand years ago, so it belongs to him? Forever? You buy that?" Benny explained. "Listen, every boss has a line to explain why he's special, why everyone gotta do what he says. Just figuring that out? Vegas gotta swing, baby, gotta have pizzazz. Respect where due, but that old man is square to the core."

"And I'm not square?" Pasternak inquired.

"Yeah, but you're a different cat altogether boss man." Benny answered. "At least I get to see ya in the flesh, unlike Mr Not-At-Home. Definitely an upgrade there, let me tell ya."

"How do I know you're not gonna betray, Mr Gecko?" The Courier asked. "Because from what I've seen, you are quite ambitious. Too ambitious, if I am honest."

"See, that hurts my feelings right there." Benny stated, a mocking frown on his face. "Really tugs at the old heart strings to know you can't trust me. And I even went outta my way to give you a nice death, too."

As those words left Benny's lips, everything went to hell. The beer bottle slipped from Pasternak's hand, as the ground came rushing up to greet him. All the Ghoul could feel right now was the sensation of pins and needles all across his body, and a migraine slowly coming around.

"My time as a Boot Rider, taught me a few important lessons. Like how to brew poisons." Benny explained. "Take Mother Darkness, the poison you just drank. It goes straight for the muscles and makes them lock up, so you can't move. Pretty smart, eh?"

"H-how?" Pasternak grunted.

"It wasn't the booze that I spiked, boss man. It was the bottle itself, rubbed some of that sweet old poison all across the rim." Benny explained, as he cocked his gun. "Hate to tell ya this, but the game has been rigged but not in your favour. Vegas needs a hip leader, and who's a hipper cat than the Ben-Man himself? Thanks for the Chip, mailman."


"Pretty ingenious plan, I must admit." Pasternak stated. "However, there was one major flaw."

Time seemed to speed up in the next few seconds, as Pasternak lifted his gun and aimed it straight at Benny's skull. The head of the Chairmen left out muffled screams, begging and pleading for his life, before Pasternak pulled the trigger. Blood spurted everywhere, the pillows, the blankets, even on the wall of the bedroom, as Benny's skull whipped backwards and he laid limp on the bed.

"You should've made sure I was dead, you stupid son of a bitch." Pasternak growled.

"You got your revenge, good job." Jazz interrupted, getting up from her chair. "How about my caps?"

The Courier slowly turned around, an intrigued look evident on his irradiated face. "You could've left any time before hand, Jazz." Pasternak stated. "You would've gotten the money in the morning."

"You don't pay until the job is done, I'm not stupid." Jazz answered. "And I'd rather have the caps in my hand right now then wait and hope I get paid tomorrow. I need those caps, Russell."

"You don't trust me?" Pasternak inquired.

"I know what happened to Boxcars and Ranger Morales, Mr Courier. So yeah, safe to say I don't trust you that much." Jazz explained, a scowl etched onto her face. "You may pay well and might've helped me get off that damn Jet, but that doesn't mean I'll follow you blindly. You're a dangerous man to be around; people seem to wind up dead, especially people who work as spies for ya. So just give me my caps, so I can go home and get some sleep."


Things were going according to plan, and the Courier couldn't have been happier. The old Ghoul currently found himself sitting at the bar in the Tops Casino, nursing a glass of expensive whiskey. Pasternak usually avoided spending caps on useless expenditures, but tonight proved to be an exception. Benny had been taken down, the Platinum Chip was back in his hands, and he even managed to find this Yes Man that Benny had bragged about.

As long as no outside variables trying to fuck up his plans presented itself to Pasternak, then by the end of the year he would find himself running the Strip. House would be dealt with, as well as the Three Families, and the NCR and Legions should be non-factors after the Battle of Hoover Dam…

"Ave, abomination." A smooth voiced stated from behind Pasternak. "You seem quite proud of yourself."

The Courier had to suppress a sigh, as the owner of the smooth voice sat next to him. Dressed in a brown suit and hat, the man seemed right at home in the glitz and glamour of the Strip, at least at first sight. It's when you noticed his scarred knuckles, the uncomfortable way he sat down, and those steely blue eyes, that this person was definitely not a man of the Strip. And as much as Pasternak loathed to admit it, he knew exactly who this was.

"Greetings Vulpes, surprised to see you here." Pasternak retorted. "Almost didn't recognize you without the fancy get up and that yellow streak down your back."

"You accuse me of being a coward?" Vulpes inquired.

"My informants told me you burnt Nipton to the ground and were planning on staying there for a few more days." Pasternak explained. "And yet when I got there, you had vanished and left one of your stooges in charge."

"Gabban was a loyal soldier, somehow who I believed capable of handling the Legion's occupation at Nipton." Vulpes stated. "He handled the role quite well."

"Well Gabban and the rest of his men are currently rotting away in Nipton, so not exactly a good judgement call." Pasternak retorted. "Or it was an excellent judgement call, as you must've known I was coming and decided you wanted to live another day."

"You mock me and the Legion, but I doubt you will be laughing for long." Vulpes retorted. "Caesar's Legion grows stronger every day, proving the weaknesses of the NCR and the follies of all the profligates. We will show the Mojave the strength of the Bull and bring order to these profligates."

"So I have heard; the massacre at Nipton, the destruction of Camp Searchlight, wiping out Ranger Station Charlie…" Pasternak recounted. "I assume you had a hand in all of that?"

"As leader of the Frumentarii, I am entrusted with many of the Legion's missions. We will win the Dam, and the Mojave." Vulpes answered, a cold smile etched onto his face. "And the Legion shall crush you, abomination. You defile Caesar with your constant refusals to meet him and your interference in Legion activity. You shall be strung up on a cross and suffer, screaming for mercy, while you slowly and painfully die. I shall ensure you will be willing to betray everyone you love, just to stop the constant pain and torture."

"Charming fellow, aren't you?" The Courier inquired. "But keep this in mind; I am 236 years old. I have survived countless assassination attempts, betrayals, shoot outs, and wars, not to mention the complete destruction of my world by nuclear weaponry. I assure you, my dear Vulpes, I am no pushover. The Legion can try and kill me, but I won't be going gently into the night. I hope you are prepared for a battle of wits, because this will be the most important chess game you will ever participate in."

"The stakes?" Vulpes asked.

"Simple, really." Russell Pasternak retorted. "The entire Mojave and everyone in it is at stake. Oh, and our lives as well, because I highly doubt both of us will survive this war."

"The Legion shall not falter nor fail, we are too invested in this Dam to lose." Vulpes stated. "We shall emerge victorious."

"I hope you're still that confident when I march on the Fort and burn the entire place to the ground." Pasternak chuckled. "Because I don't like to lose, especially with stakes this high. Good luck Vulpes, you're gonna need it."

And the final Chapter to Benny's Grave Mistake is done and dusted! This won't be the end for Russell Pasternak, as I plan on a series of short stories starring him and Vulpes warring against each other. I'd like to thank Aegon BlackSteel, Mandalore the Freedom, Alexeij, IamtheAble and Fanfictionfan3601 for all of their reviews and support. Anyway, I hope to see you lovely readers soon!

Love,

The Desert Dancer