Chapter Two:Upon Crimson Wings

Morning greeted the eldest Durant brother rudely. Leon found himself on the kitchen floor, an assorted pile of empty alcoholic beverages scattered about. The two had hosted a party in honor of new found freedom, some of the neighborhood friends were still present, sleeping in whatever nook and cranny they could find comfortable inside the Durant apartment.

He slowly stood up, working his hand on a kink that had developed in his neck due to sleeping on the floor. A minor hangover plagued his brain while he stumbled out of the kitchen to walk into what no longer resembled the living room. There were bottles everywhere, Rhoke's requisitioned minigun lay on the table, repair equipment scattered when Leon started a party. The couch appeared unscathed though, and the table that took up the bulk of the living room was fine as well. It was always missing that leg. The cinder block that held it up was missing though. A game of darts had gotten out of hand from the looks of it as well.

He spotted Tim, a large African neighbor who came over for poker night occasionally, slumped over in a corner where an end table had been originally. Jerald, a red-headed and stocky ammo press worker that had become acquainted with Rhoke's abrasive personality, had stolen a blanket from one of the beds and slept next to the door, head cradled in the nook of his arm. The good doctor Sara was seen on the couch. She actually came over every Friday and sometimes stayed full nights, because Friday was debt night and the two were usually too beat up to do anything except go home and sleep. There was an unmoving form shadowed by Sara Garrett's body whom turned out to be Rhoke, his face buried in a corner of the couch, a bottle of vodka held loosely by his hand and the floor.

Damn, Leon thought to himself, Thought she had a thing for me too. He'd decided to wake the other two present. A kick to the leg for Tim, a shaking of the shoulders for Jerald, and the two stumbled out of the apartment with customary silence, one of them was mumbling something under his breath, probably Jerald complaining about work tomorrow.

As he had watched the two stumble out into the morning sun, almost falling off the second story apartment rampart, Leon started remembering what had happened last night. A lot of drinking, followed by poker, and then other improvised drinking games. Nothing hot and heavy, better make sure theres nobody in my bed anyway.

Leon navigated the living room like it was covered in land mines, trying not to make too much noise. There was another female at the party that he hadn't spotted yet. Grace had shown up unexpectedly and decided to get piss drunk with them. The details were lost on him but she turned out to be a lightweight and passed out in his room within a few hours. Truth is, Leon had a crush on Grace ever since he set eyes on her. Something about her 'take charge' personality that stuck out compared to her dark hair and nimble face.

He entered his bedroom, she was sitting up on top of his mattress, hands upon her face and still trying to get her bearings. Her jet black hair had bits and pieces sticking at odd angles from sleeping heavily.

"Morning sunshine." Leon caused her to turn immediately towards the door frame he was standing in. She cringed at the words as well.

"Ssshhh, I don't wanna hear it. I got the hangover of a lifetime." A visible surprise could be seen on Leon's face as his right eyebrow moved up his face as a drawbridge would. She had only drunk three bottles of scotch. He only had five, and the hangover he had was considered light. Maybe he should learn to lay back on the booze a bit...

Grace started the conversation back up.

"The only reason I came over was because I wanted to give one last goodbye. I know I'll never catch you back at work anymore. I was thinking I could try to make plans to visit you outside of the club."

"You mean to try and make amends with the young boy? I thought you wanted someone 'more mature'." Leon shot back. He was hellbent on keeping that old wound opened up.

"And I regret that, because honestly you really have matured." As much as that blindsided Leon, he decided to put on his stern face facade while she continued.

"I was looking for someone who was responsible enough to take care of himself. I never realized it until last night, but thats exactly what you and your brother have been doing. The two of you shed blood, sweat, and tears to pay off that debt. You didn't deserve to be turned down the first time you asked me to dinner. I thought I'd make up for it by dropping by yesterday."

"I don't know anymore.I think you're gonna look pretty damn stupid if money is what influenced you."

"...You know what, this was a mistake," She started, "I'm leaving." She got up, and moved past Leon, trying not to wake the two on the couch. She obviously started the day on the wrong foot.

"Fine." He didn't try to stop her. She made it sound like she only wanted to get with him after he paid his debt. For all Leon knew, she was being put up to this by her boss. But he seriously doubted that last bit, and everyone deserves second chances. He would just give it some time is all. "Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out." He mumbled as she walked out, she gave him the finger, and quickly fell off the scaffolding that acted as the front porch for all of the second story apartments. They really need to put up some sort of safety bar or something. Thats the eighth person to fall off this thing in a month.


Rhoke woke from a deep sleep with Leon's last words as he opened his eyes to darkness, he was facing the inside of the couch. Least he wasn't on the floor compared to the last time he got wasted. He turned his head and found himself staring out into the living room through a veil of what appeared to be yellow-white silk. He blinked, still unmoving. He heard the light snoring of a passed out Sara on top of him before he felt her weight upon his back. Damn this is gonna be awkward. Don't think about it, or your face will light up like a laser beam.

He tried to move his left arm, her arms splayed across his back made mobility nigh impossible without waking her up. Her right arm was curled against his neck, her left fallen limp across both bodies and almost against the floor. It was brushing against his, the vodka bottle falling from his hand with a soft clink. This was gonna be really awkward.

After about thirty minutes Rhoke's patience had been worn thin, he could hear Leon cleaning up last night's mess in the kitchen, and actually saw brief flashes of limbs out the view obstructed by Sara's hair from when he straightened out the table's missing leg. He tried to whisper for help but trying anything over the louder clink of bottles would probably wake up Sara. My face is gonna catch fire as soon as I make eye contact with her.

"Hey... um Sara? Its time to wake up." Rhoke said this quietly, a mumbling around the lines of 'one more minute.' Was heard, and at this point Rhoke's face was already turning a shade redder. He couldn't handle these kinds of social situations at all.

"Sara, you gotta get up..." Rhoke started again. She pushed the long hair from her eyes and inadvertently out of the younger brother's vision. She appeared to be looking for something.

"Oh hell... I need something that isn't laced with alcohol, Rhoke? What time is it?" She was up now, and looking around. When she realized she was on top of him, she froze. Rhoke turned a palpable crimson but kept his composure.

Instead of making eye contact, he instead looked at the clock mounted on the wall at the end of the table. He had fixed it himself. Eleven-fifteen it read.

"Its fifteen after eleven Sara." He flinched in pain when she jumped off his back with graceless agility, her five foot-eleven inch frame dug its weight into soft parts of his back with sharp elbows and thin hands.

"Shit! I'm gonna be late for work." She grabbed her white doctor coat off a doorknob to a wardrobe in one of the corners and bolted out the open door to the house. A yelp was heard as she ran right over the scaffolding and hit the dirt. Leon watched this beautiful drama unfold from the kitchen as Rhoke stepped on a wrench and tripped after her. Rhoke continued with the momentum, and shot out the door, finally landing against the end of the scaffolding and shouting a quick 'Are you okay?' from its edge.

Leon stepped over Rhoke's legs, a case of empty bottles in each arm, he stopped to address the two figures. "Good morning to you too, your lady friend okay down there?" Sara was staring up at the two in bewilderment. She got up, straightened her coat, which was now dirt colored, and continued down the road while trying to maintain composure in front of her childhood friends. Remembering something she turned around and yelled at the brothers.

"Don't forget to come in for your checkup! That means you too Leon!" And she started towards her mother's office with a jog.

Rhoke was broken out of his trance by a boot hitting him in the leg, "C'mon, theres another crate on the table, lets get this to Barry n' get our money back."

The younger brother got up and went into the kitchen, slipping two water bottles into his back pocket for the trek back, and then grabbed the crate of empty bottles. They would cash these in for a refund to the water trader and get about half the caps spent buying it. It was a good deal they had taken advantage of since Eval had started drinking and passed the habit to his sons.

Leon was already down the road, Rhoke started a jog to catch up and walk with him.

"What do we have to do today? Tomorrow I gotta work at the presses so if you have anything you need done tell me now." Rhoke was straight to the point about schedules. They learned to keep one thanks to the painful lessons taught by Frank Evergreen's henchmen

"After we trade off with Barry, I want you to take a look at that rifle I got yesterday and see what needs done on it. I was told the bolt needs replaced but theres probably some other work that needs done." A nod from Rhoke, "Afterwards, remind me to take Sara's med bag that she forgot to her office."


The good doctor found herself without her 'Away' medical bag she had taken with her to the Durant's home. Her office was a right turn down the road from the Mighthouse, and she often saw the two brothers coming and leaving the bar, often bloody and wanting to go home. She had learned to wait for them at their apartment and patch them up there. Last night was no exception, well, except they got drunk... and fell asleep on top of Rhoke when she was checking the nasty stab wound for the third time. That idiot could've died again, but nothing some stimpacks couldn't fix. Leon now had a vertical laceration that matched his brother's in shade as well as some bruises and splinters in his back.

I turned that poor boy a shade of crimson I thought only gushed from fatal wounds. Sara thought as she mindlessly swabbed over an NCR soldier's radscorpion sting with disinfectant. A cotton patch was placed on the soldier's thigh and medical tape was applied to keep it there, the antivenom had been ingested in the field but infection was nasty business that should be avoided when possible.

"There, you're done soldier," The soldier nodded in appreciation as she wrote down the soldier's treatment fee on the NCR tab. They paid it off every week for the clinic's efficient work, so it was a good deal for everyone to keep all of the soldiers coming to this doctor office. She only had three people that picked up shifts in her work though, one of them Sara's mother. The other two training under her.

Sara sat behind the counter that led to the back offices and pondered the brothers while she had no patients. Leon was a swindler at heart but brought up well. He was cute too, but Rhoke could be adorable without knowing it. He is always trying to avoid eye contact with me as well... Its a shame his face got tarnished, but Leon wasn't kidding. It really does reflect his abrasive personality. The kid needs to get out more.

Two NCR soldiers burst past the door with a third being carried in between them on a makeshift stretcher. Sara snapped to attention and ordered them to follow her into the back room with beds, she'd done this before. After being laid down, Sara started observing what happened to the soldier, there was plenty of blood being thrown from his body.

African, male, bullet wounds, at least four across the chest. Dark blood poured along one that centered in his chest. It had clipped one of the arteries leading to his heart, if he was going to live, it would be a miracle. She put on a new pair of gloves and sedated the patient when another group of NCR walked in, a female crying in pain on the stretcher, gawking at where her right foot used to be. Sara had only dealt with one amputation in her whole career, and the wound was messy enough to make her stomach churn uncomfortably.

She ordered the patient onto the adjacent bed next to her. Getting her bearings, she sedated this one as well and ordered the first soldier to press against the wound with a clean towel. Something was going down, something big, she'd need help.

"You!" She pointed to one of the NCR soldiers, who jumped a little as he was gazing onto the first patient that had entered. "Go down to the ammo press, look for the two story house and get Olivia Garrett. Now dammit!" He ran off, she directed her attention to the other two standing around. Sara told these NCR to leave and get back to duty, the lack of protesting led her to believe that she was correct, there would be more. The final one she ordered out of his armor and to put on plastic gloves, the first patient would require complex work if he was to be saved.

What in the hell was going on out there?


The two brothers had arrived back at the apartment after their dealings with Barry the water merchant, Rhoke returning to his room to change clothes. He had spilled vodka onto his pants, but didn't notice the smell when he left as the whole apartment reeked of alcohol. Rhoke came out wearing a dark green undershirt and a gray hooded sweatshirt that was torn in places, with cargo jeans with a pair of steel-toed boots. He felt today had demanded steel-toes.

Leon had already changed before they left, choosing a gray shirt with a good leather vest and blue jeans with NCR produced running shoes. The government was doing a good job at producing commodities back West. They eventually worked their way over here as well.

He left his room to see Rhoke sitting on the couch, the radio pulled up and playing some unnamed classical while he chowed down on a can of Pork n' Beans.

Leon sat next to him. He hadn't noticed until now, but the 10mm pistol he left at the door of the Mighthouse was on the table as well. Rhoke had followed his gaze.

"Grace brought it." He said abruptly, and got back to his lunch. She had brought the other stuff as well, his butterfly knife, about twenty throwing knives that accumulated over time, and other assorted blades he used as decoy to the bouncers at Frank's club. He sat down next on the opposite side of the couch and studied his firearm. Slowly but surely, he started to disassemble it, inspecting the parts and taking an old rag that always seemed to on the table to the bits that needed it. He hadn't taken the time to do this until now and needed to catch up. Filling out a 10mm clip and sliding it into the weapon with a satisfying click, Leon set the pistol back down.

Rhoke got up from the couch, tossing the spent can into a plastic bin as he opened up the wardrobe where the rifle was stored. It was a piece of work alright, but should be able to fire in no time. He pulled up the sleeves of his hooded sweatshirt, he couldn't stand long sleeves. They agitated his bandages and no working man wanted long sleeves to get caught in machinery like a few of the workers had accidentally done before.

Sitting down with the rifle, he started dissecting the parts, the metal that kept the barrel and stock together would need replaced. The bolt was bent out of shape as well. The stock was almost split at the butt end and could shatter if it wasn't held down so Rhoke got to work on that since it could be done here. Picking up a clamp, he tightened down the butt end of the rifle as tightly as he could from top to bottom, grabbing a piece of scrap metal lying around, he hammered nails into pre-drilled holes and into the wood lightly, trying not to split it. Done successfully, Rhoke rounded the bits of metal off with duct tape and turned to Leon.

"I need the bolt and some time at the forge." Rhoke stated, "Run down to the market and meet me there." He grabbed the rifle and a small bag full of scrap metal and left. The door closed behind him, Leon got up as well and got into his cap stash, a hidden box underneath the couch. Pulling out about two hundred, he left as well. Locking the door behind him and greeting the afternoon sun with a grin, Leon took off toward the market.


Down the lot road, taking a right, he passed plenty of faces he recognized, a smile here, a wave and greeting there. He knew this town and its inhabitants well. Well enough to notice an unusual amount of NCR troops running around. It was strange, something was going down. A sudden burst of firearms racket and an explosion broke the near-silence of the town. It was probably just a training drill the officers run the new guys through to keep them on their toes.

Ignoring the noise, Leon went into the market district, caravans passed around, their goods displayed on the backs of Brahman and the stalls that lined the streets. He spotted one that had the rifle on its back and approached the trader.

Conversation was had, and prices were argued. No go, the trader wouldn't give up the rifle for more then five hundred. Leon shrugged it off and met up with another caravan trader who had the same rifle, but it was in even better condition then the first, and he didn't have the money for that. A third merchant was noticed with the rifle, and from the looks of it trying to convince someone that the thing falling apart in his hand was still in perfect condition. Unconvinced, the man left and the merchant looked at the ground with a disheveled look.

Leon approached the man, "How much for the rifle?"

The man's eyes lit up, "Three hundred caps."

"How about a hundred and fifty?"

"Sorry, can't go lower then two-fifty."

"Two hundred or I walk away, and I gotta say, I'm not buying to rifle to fire it. Only an idiot would want to fire that death trap. But good luck selling it to anyone else who wants to shoot it!" He shouted, making sure anyone twenty meters away heard him. The man's face was painted in a scowl, knowing full well what just happened.

"Fine, two hundred."

Leon snatched the rifle from the man's hand, the stock literally fell off at this action and landed between the two men. The merchant gave back fifty caps and picked up the stock, throwing it in a bin on the back of the Brahman. Strange world we live in isn't it?

He worked his way past the market and over to the town forge. It was a public building, a molten pit powered by a fusion engine salvaged from a car. Rhoke was working a piece of metal over a rock that was flat enough to handle the blows. Leon patiently waited until he was done, Rhoke didn't like being interrupted during work unless it was important. The metal dipped into the water with a pair of tongs, let off steam, and was dropped next to the rifle on the table. The rifle had gone through some elaborate repair, metal lined most of the barrel, ranging from metal bands that circled fully and braces that were screwed in. The grip along the rifle had Brahman leather along the side and duct tape at the tips. The barrel itself was polished. Probably on the inside as well.

Rhoke approached Leon with the bit of metal, the older brother next to the table the maintained was being carried out on. it fitting perfectly along the top of the rifle, the top was annotated with small metal bits that looked to be sights. Rhoke used a screwdriver to put the metal back into its original position, right in front of where the bolt should be. Leon handed over the scrap rifle, which was immediately dissected and left for scavengers to pick over in a designated bin. A civilian crowd had gathered around Rhoke, some were interested in the trade, others in the rifle. A select few took the bits left from the broken weapon and moved over to some other project going on in the forge.

Inserting the better parts from the scrapped gun, Rhoke reassembled the hunting rifle. It now looked as capable of killing something as it was the first day it rolled off the assembly line. A five-round clip of .308 ammo was sitting on the table, Rhoke inserted it into the feed, moved the round into the barrel, aimed at a nearby metal bucket mounted against a thick wooden support beam, and fired.

Nothing happened. Rhoke slapped himself upon the forehead and turned the safety off. Pulling the trigger again, the rifle successfully fired, the .308 round, punching through the metal bucket and into the beam. And a successfully repaired rifle was finished. Rhoke gave a small smile to Leon who was grinning like a loon.

The crowd parted, the interesting parts over, and the brothers moved off to the apartment.

"You've done it again Rhoke, dad would be proud." Leon started.

"It wasn't too hard.." Rhoke said.

"That didn't stop you from working your magic and bringing that gun back to life now did it?" Leon said rhetorically.

"To Sara's next then?"

"Yeah, we'll put the rifle up and grab the med bag. Bet shes been flippin out about missing that piece of equipment."

Silence followed them back, NCR troops patrolled in the late afternoon sun. There seemed to be more of them out now, and not in the casual 'lets go drinking!' way either. They had their rifles in hand and were scanning the groups of people that went through. A glint of a scope betrayed the position of a sniper atop one of the larger buildings.

"You noticed it too right?" Leon said, the shorter of the two nodded, he cast suspicious glances back and forth. Others were starting to notice as well, bunkering down in their homes, casting wary looks from doors and windows.

Turning down the road home, they found that NCR rangers were going door to door and asking questions. It was an unnerving sight. Someone was in for it.

The two closed and locked the door behind them, putting the rifle up in the wardrobe, Rhoke grabbed his .32 revolver and twenty five rounds, the gun already loaded. Leon put on his 'fighting' vest, putting 9mm cartridges into the slots and looking around for his pistol. He found it on the table where he had left it, it was already putting a loaded clip in and everything. He didn't have a holster for it yet, so he slipped it into one of the knife holding pockets on the inside of his vest. Something was nagging him, something important. It was right at the edge of his thoughts but he couldn't bring it out. This thought was replaced by an itch from his right butt cheek, the scabbing wound was starting to heal but it was really irritating the skin around it.

He eyed the minigun on the table.

"Hey Rhoke!" His brother arrived from his room, the revolver in a holster on the back of his belt. "You gonna bring this thing with us?" Leon said. A neutral gaze met his own.

"I could if you really wanted me to... It'll slow me down but I could do it. Its got a sling and everything." He moved over to the machine and picked it up. Fifteen pounds could be a dangerous burden on the battlefield until he got used to lugging it around. Rhoke wasn't a soldier though. He slapped in a two-hundred n' forty round box of ammo into its side anyway. For all they knew, they had a Legion army on their doorsteps. He grabbed two of the other boxes of ammo and slipped them into each of the extra pockets his cargo jeans gave him. He couldn't close the pocket anymore but the rounds wouldn't go anywhere anytime soon.

He was forced to move the .32 revolver to his left side, the minigun was banging against it and pressing into his flesh uncomfortably. Leon grabbed the medical bag, and put it into his backpack for safe keeping. The butterfly knife up his sleeve in a hidden pocket and the throwing knife brace wrapped around his torso this time.

Leon moved to the door with Rhoke and a knocking rang out in the silence before they even got to unlock it. Moving away from the door, Rhoke, pulled out the minigun and held it toward its intended target on the other side of the wall.

He had never fired the thing, but that wouldn't stop him if it came to that. Leon asked who it was, the reply rang across the room, carried by the metal trailer sidings.

"NCR ranger, please open up now." Female voice, defiantly not Legion. Legion didn't have female soldiers and spies.

Leon undid the lock and opened the door, stopping it enough to block view of Rhoke. He was still poised to open fire.

A female NCR ranger sat in front of the door, a cowboy repeater and a .357 magnum sat on her hip. Late afternoon light hid her face as her cowboy hat blocked the sun and other's vision from her eyes.

"We're going around and looking for anyone thats been contact with an NCR officer named Otis Weller." The ranger explained, "If you've seen anyone talking to him, please tell me." Leon took initiative to find out what was going on.

"I havent seen anything like that. Could you fill me in on what to look out for exactly? I was just about to leave when you showed up, and if I knew what the NCR was looking for and why I would gladly help."

"Well... since you could be an extra set of eyes out there, we're looking for anyone thats been in contact with this guy because he turned out to be a Legion spy. A couple guys on the north edge of town were forced to take him out. We caught him sending an unauthorized transmission back out to wherever his home base is. He was an administration officer in charge of keeping the peace between local businesses, so keep an eye out for store owners who are acting out of the ordinary. After scouring his home, we came across a number of explosive detonators. We think he was going to try and sabotage the ammo presses." It made sense. The ammo presses were important to the NCR, the whole thing going up in smoke would cripple troops in the East.

"That explains a lot, thank you." Leon said, opening the door all the way. Rhoke had presented himself, minigun slung on his back and water bottle in hand. "We'll be going now."

The NCR officer moved to knock on the next door in line, while the two brothers locked up and made way to Sara's doctor office. A woman jogging down the street bumped into Leon who was crossing onto the main road to the office. Apologizing, the woman started again, stopped in mid-jog and turned around with surprise.

"Leon? I haven't seen you in a month! What happened to your face? And Rhoke as well... Is this face scar thing a new trend? It doesn't suit you two well." A slight chuckle followed these words. It was Olivia Garrett. She was a woman in her fifties with almost white-blond hair her daughter had inherited. She had started the medical office when the town was founded and was a respected member of the community.

"Not really ma'am, we were on our way to your office to drop this off." Leon said, pulling out Sara's medical bag. Olivia took the bag.

"I'll take this to her for you, but now isn't a good time to visit the office. We've got injured NCR soldiers flooding in from nowhere."

"But we've gotta get our injuries checked." Leon replied, he really didn't want gangrene on his rear end.

"Fine. I'll check you up right here and now. Wheres your injuries?" The two didn't see that coming. Rhoke presented his forearms, she cut the bandages away with a scalpel and examined the lacerations with a precision known only in her field. She pulled out a bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide and swabbed over the wounds with a clean cloth. After bandaging his arms, she focused on his face, which received the same treatment.

"Now you." She addressed Leon. He hesitated, he'd have to drop his pants in the middle of the road then wouldn't he? "You know... on second thought..." He started.

"Where. Are. You. Injured." She said again. A serious tone overtaking any awkwardness of the situation. Medical wounds were no joke to her.

"The back of both of my legs." He replied.

"Drop em." He turned around and did as instructed. A passing NCR patrol was gawking at him, but taking it like a champion, he looked over grinning and gave a thumbs up to them.

After that little episode was done, Leon slid his pants back up and thanked the middle-aged woman. She gave off a quick 'your welcome' and scurried off to her office. People had lives that needed saving.

'Cutter' Grace observed her boss pacing back and forth in his club from behind the counter through the bottom of a bottle of scotch. The club had been closed today, the majority of the staff on medical leave as it usually was on every Saturday. He was sweating and mumbling to himself about something. The bandages on his back were gone, a surgical wound visible along the collar of his business suit. A new scar crossed his left forearm but it was hidden under the

Grace's train of thought was derailed as Mark walked in clutching an array of bandages around his chest. He sat down at the bar and asked for a beer. Obliging him, Grace provided and started making conversation with the broken brute while she could still talk straight.

"So, how many ribs?"

"Five." Ouch.

"Recovery time?"

"Long enough to where I may loose my job."

"Theres always other opportunities out there when you're all better. You could work at the ammo presses, or maybe become a courier or something." Another drink from the bottle. Leon had gotten to her alright.

"Yeah..." Mark's voice lowered, " Whats with the boss? He usually doesn't sweat and pace at the same time." He didn't want to point out Grace's sudden interest in the scotch bottle.

"No idea, I heard the NCR killed a Legion spy earlier today. Maybe thats whats got him on edge?"

"I don't know. Any idea about his surgery? It wasn't necessary done locally or else we would've caught wind of it in town." A deep drink from the brown beer bottle, followed by a fit of coughing.

"Not a clue. Not at all. You think the brother's had something to do with it?" Grace asked suddenly.

"If they aren't now, they will be soon. Those two know how to get into more trouble then we can put them through."

Suddenly it all made sense to Rhoke. Something clicked together and it was so derailing that he physically stopped in his tracks. Leon continued on until he noticed a lack of brother next to him. Rhoke had turned as pale as the scarred flesh of his face allowed him to turn.

"You okay Rhoke? you look like you just saw a deathclaw."

"Leon, I think I just figured out whats going on." Leon stayed silent, expecting an explanation. "Back to the apartment, I don't want extra ears catching this."

The door slammed behind the brothers, Rhoke set the minigun on the table and cracked his back. That thing would be a burden he would have to get used to.

Leon went into the kitchen, grabbing a Brahman steak for himself and a grilled mantis leg for his brother. The two took a seat on the couch and dug in.

"Now, please explain the situation." Leon said in between bites.

Rhoke cleared his throat, beating on his chest after a mouthful of mantis leg went down rough. "Okay, when I was in the armory sneaking out weapons for our trek into the Wes-Tek facility, I saw a missile."

"Umm, okay. We've seen missiles before, you almost got to kiss one, remember?" The steak was hungrily dug into once more.

"I don't mean a shoulder mounted missile. I mean one of those huge missiles that could be used to level cities."

"To be expected. Better in the armory then lying around for a group of raiders to find." Leon had already almost finished the steak.

"I went ahead and got a closer look at this thing, there were blinking lights and several open panels. I think somebody was tinkering with it." A look of concern wasn't something Rhoke put on often, as he was doing now.

"If its that serious why didn't you say something sooner." A worried work crossed Leon's face. It was put off largely due to the hunk of meat hanging from his mouth.

"I meant to, but I got distracted, I had forgotten about it by the time you told me everything else in the medical office yesterday." Rhoke set down the mantis leg on the table, it wasn't going anywhere.

"... Continue."

"I started putting all this information together. Armed missile, Legion spy who was trying to sabotage the ammo press. Legion spy had ties to local business owners. Frank Evergreen had surgery recently. I don't know how the last one fits in there but the answer lies with Evergreen."

"So we get Evergreen to spill the beans on his whole operation?"

"Thats the plan."

Leon threw the steak bone in the trash bin, "Lets get to work then!"

Rhoke interrupted his glory march. "Wait, Leon."

He turned around, the door was already open.

"Are those 9mm ammo clips?" Leon nodded. He didn't see where this was going.

"Aren't you using a 10mm gun?"

"... Shit, yeah I am. I didn't get to load any of the 10mm magazines except the one in it!" He exclaimed to his own stupidity.

"Leave the other magazines and take the rifle." Rhoke tossed three magazines with five shots each filled with .308 in a bundle to his brother. Picking up his unfinished mantis leg, he moved to the door with his brother. "Thats all we got plus a full clip in the rifle. If it comes down to it, make them count."

The two locked up once again, and left into the setting sun toward the Mighthouse.

"Boss, we got company." One of the thugs hired by Frank yelled from the trap door in the kitchen down the line to Frank.

The short man walked over to the base of the ladder, "Is it NCR?"

"No, its those two boys that came by yesterday and kicked our asses." Frank hadn't been considering if the Durant brothers came by. They'd have no reason to unless they figured out what he was up to. He'd have to get rid of them with force this time. Nobody could figure out how royally screwed he was or how deep his betrayal of the town went.

"Are they armed?"

"Yes sir, the taller one has a rifle, and the smaller one has some sort of large device on his back."

Another goon on the roof yelled above the first, "Thats a goddamn minigun!"

"I don't think they're coming in to pay off debts boss." The first thug said.

Shit, I can't let them find out. I can shoot them dead in the street, but then I'll be at the top of the NCR hit list. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. The plan fell apart when the Legion spy died. I might as well take Eval's damed sons off the face of the planet with me. Heh, If I go the whole town goes with me anyway.

"Kill them when you know you can do it in one shot." The goons didn't question the orders. They had killed before, it would be easy to do. The two were still about fifty meters away.

The two goons both had rifles, and propped them up against the building. They had little time before they were spotted. The first thug had already lined up a shot on the taller one. He was waiting on his buddy to hurry up. He was having trouble driving the round into the chamber. It finally clicked into place, the second man lined up as well.

The two brothers were approaching the building from the end of the road, looking into the sun. It certainly looked dramatic. As the two walked down, they noticed a lack of NCR and civilians on the road. It was strange. Rhoke could've sworn he saw something on top of the building but he was preoccupied with the mantis leg he had not yet finished. Leon slowed for a second, looking away from the building and then looking back towards the sun that crowned around it. He sneezed in an almost violent motion, and felt a bullet pass by his ear right where his head was a moment ago.

He visibly jumped, Rhoke looked back at his brother, confused. A round ricocheted off the back end of the minigun beside Rhoke's face. He jumped as well and skittered for cover. Oh shit! I dropped my dinner. The mantis leg lay in the middle of the road, unfinished.

The two had split on opposite sides of the road, Leon found refuge in an alleyway, Rhoke was forced behind a thinner sheet metal wall that was part of a wall for a house.

"Leon! You gotta go around and get rid of these bastards!" A shot rang against the sheet metal, passing straight through and kicking up dust where it landed. "Fuckin Hurry!"

Leon darted down the alleyway, slinging his rifle onto his back, and sped onto the adjacent street, looping around to the back of the club. He regretted not bringing one of those grenades. It would make this job easy. The back door didn't have any guards, a really fatal mistake tactically. Leon found the door opening on its own before he managed to try the knob.. Thinking fast, he dived behind a dumpster next to the door as two occupants walked out. He drew his 10mm pistol loaded with his only magazine and strained to hear what the two were saying.

"... Don'ts pays me enough toos kill tha' smug fucker." A female voice.

"You're stumbling all over the place, lets get you home." A deep male voice, almost hitting the lowest note known to man. Only Mark could sound like that.

They were about ten meters out now, Leon had to risk going for the door. He couldn't leave his brother in the street for too long. He bolted for the door, and was sure one of them had heard him. He locked it, knowing it would buy more time, and found himself in the back area of the kitchen. A quick glimpse down one of the corners told him where the trapdoor to the ceiling was. There was a goon standing there, probably told to guard it. Leon hesitated as he pulled out his pistol and eventually fired two shots into his chest as he revealed himself around the corner and rushed for the ladder.

It was the first time he had ever killed someone, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He holstered his weapon into his coat and climbed the ladder as quickly as he could. His brother needed him.

Rhoke's cover was dwindling, the holes in the metal giving away his position. He had gone as far as to hold onto the top of the sheet metal, which cut into his hands but had saved his life so far. One of the rounds clipped his right calf, but it hit his pants more then anything.

Not three minutes after the firing started, a cry of pain rang out followed by another gunshot, but nothing struck the metal barrier. Rhoke peeked out of his cover, his brother was pulling his switchblade out of the back of one of the thugs. What required more attention was the front door, where three of the bad guys had come out to investigate the ruckus. The Durants should've been dead by now. They were wrong.

Rhoke turned the corner, minigun in hand, already starting its spin cycle of destruction. He was running at them, the weapon would be more effective a little closer. He was screaming like a madman to get their attention as well. He stopped the guards in their tracks, who were almost inside the sanctuary of the club.

Rhoke pressed the firing trigger. The minigun continued to rotate, but did not fire. Oh hell, Rhoke started to panic but kept running, Its not firing why isn't it firing I'm still running at them its not working no no no no no! The guards were starting to pull their weapons up, when one of them dropped to the ground with a loud echo. Another followed. The third guard didn't know what to do at this point as his comrade's skulls had seemingly exploded from behind, and was trying to retreat back into the club only to find the door locked behind him. Rhoke had closed the distance with the guard and started using the massive weapon as a cudgel. The goon was knocked to the ground with a staggering blow, Rhoke brought the minigun above his head and brought it down like an executioner's hammer. He didn't expect the man's head to simply give way under the minigun.

He blinked at the blood and gore, had he done that with one blow? Now was not the time to worry about it. He investigated his weapon, trying to see what had happened to cause the ammo to not feed in properly. A quick overview revealed that the 5mm box had been put in backwards. He slapped himself for such a stupid mistake that almost got him killed and put it in correctly. He noticed Leon atop the roof, looking down on him.

"You get it to work?"

"I did now."

"Alright, go ahead and bust in, kill everyone except Frank if you can help it." A nod followed. Rhoke's stomach did flips.

"Try not to shoot towards the kitchen, I'll run distraction until you burst inside and try to capture Frank. If he hasn't left already yet anyway." A minuite passed when small arms gunfire erupted inside the club.

Rhoke propped the minigun back into its firing position. He tried the door, it was locked. No matter, the doors in this town were all cheap fix-up jobs anyway. Rhoke backed away from the door, and charged up the steps. He met the door with his shoulder and it gave way. He quickly reorientated himself to take in everything that he saw.

Leon was pinned down behind the bar, at least seven goons were behind cover that ranged form metal to plastic. Fank was not to be found.

Rhoke pulled the firing trigger.

The machine kicked back hard, causing Rhoke to strain his arms as he moved it in the general area he wanted to aim it. The goons who were not in cover at that moment were turned into chunks of meat. The cover was dissolved before Rhoke's eyes, the men behind it peppered with rounds. They all hit the floor within seconds. Two more guards appeared from the hallway to the back rooms, Rhoke swept the machine over and let it do the work for him. The two brutes were cut down in seconds. The younger brother had finally let go of the trigger to survey what the machine had done to the room. Everything was dead. Everything. He shook where he stood. It was too much, too fast. Death shouldn't be this quick for anyone. He vomited.

He almost threw down the minigun after that episode, but then he remembered he had to catch up with his brother. Father had always said; Put each other first, theres no replacement for each other. Better make sure Leon didn't get in over his head.

Leon knew that there would be bruisers waiting at the front door. If Rhoke came in guns blazing with no armor, he'd have no chance of survival. Instead of that happening, Leon decided to act as a distraction. He pulled out the .308 rifle and picked off the man closest to him. The others immediately panicked and started looking for cover. Upon finding none, they overturned anything they could find, tables, chairs, even stools. Rhoke burst through the door with a grunt. The minigun on his back rotated and turned these men into so many pounds of wasted flesh in seconds.

It was a blood bath, but Leon didn't have time to gawk, he had to find Evergreen. Leon looped around the kitchen, finding that two guards had charged down the hall and been obliterated as well. He passed these corpses and decided to sneak down to the final doorway. Peering through the cloth blocking the door, Leon could see that Frank was pacing in the room by himself. Leon simply stepped into the room, rifle shouldered but not aiming at anything in particular. Frank had stopped, his face paled as he considered what he was looking at.

"Frank, I'd like a word with you."

Rhoke stepped in as well behind Leon. Something was off about him, he was shaken up. That could be addressed later.

"Frank," Leon had started again, "What the hell is going on? The shoot-on-sight policy was never something you went by. You're obviously shaken up, is it because a friend of yours was, perhaps, discovered by the NCR?"

"I..." Frank was doomed, he couldn't take on any of the Durants, he was tired, out of shape, and only had a .22 pistol on his person. The pop gun wont be enough to kill both before they retaliate. And then they all go up in smoke. Maybe it wouldn't matter anyway... fuck it all.

"I messed up boys. I messed up bad." Frank had started, he put his hand to his face, raw emotion was starting to crack this con man's scheming exterior. Guilt and shame and regret flowed from the man in the form of his story.

"A few days ago, after one of the local business meetings we have to talk about future expansion of the town, an NCR officer pulled me over and had a talk with me. He filled my head with delusions of grandeur, the idea of ruling the whole town as de-facto leader, and eventually the entire Western Wasteland, under the banner of Caesar's Legion." He stopped there, scratching at the surgical incision at the top of his neck. "He said I could hold the town hostage if I had the key to its destruction. I left town to have a wireless detonator spliced to my vertebrae." The two brothers blinked rapidly, finally Rhoke spoke for the first time. He seemed to have regressed back into normal, cranky Rhoke.

"Do you know how fucking stupid that sounds!" Frank only nodded his head in solemn agreement. "You were going to hold the town hostage with your life? What the hell made you think this is a great idea-"

"I just wanted more power!" Frank cut him off, visibly shaking. "To be the man in charge, a little ambition shouldn't have lead to this. You gotta help me Leo!" Leon just stared at him. He had a look of neutrality that usually adorned Rhoke's face.

Before he could even answer, a 9mm submachine gun ripped through the air behind the brothers, roughly half an smg magazine ripping through the fleece door replacement. Diving to the side, Rhoke pulled out his revolver and put three rounds into the unknown aggressor. The body guard that had survived being pockmarked by the 5mm barrage somehow now had three fatal chests wounds and slumped over against the hall's metal corridor and died just as quickly as he appeared. Rhoke hadn't been hit, having moved toward the right side of the door.

Leon however frowned when he found that five bullet wounds on his person. He found it difficult to move his right arm at first, three rounds dotting the limb in a vertical fashion, another round grazed his hip and a final had lodged in his right shoulder. After finding all of these, he cursed loudly. The pain was setting after each sighting, the length of his arm was on fire. He leaned against the wall, clutching his crippled limb.

Frank Evergreen took most of the bullets. A number of holes dotted his chest in vital areas. There were more then ten. There was no question, he was going to die. Doomsday had been set in motion

"Rhoke!" Frank coughed out the smaller brother's name with a gob of blood from his position on the floor. "Run! Go... Disarm it!" Rhoke looked at his brother, who was writhing in pain, unable to

"Keep him alive." Was all that was said, Leon barely caught the words before Rhoke dropped the minigun on the floor with a loud clang and took off out of the building. Leon dug in his backpack to find that he only had one dose of Med-X. Frowning, he stabbed it into Frank's chest. Leon wasn't dying today, he wouldn't need it.


Rhoke burst through the club door to find that the NCR had surrounded the building with all the uproar. Rhoke slipped and fell in front of the line of NCR soldiers, various deadly weapons pointed at him while he was stuck sitting on his ass. A female NCR soldier with brunette hair and service rifle walked over to him, rifle raised at his chest.

"Who are you and what are you doing here!" She demanded, rifle barrel poking him in the chest.

"I don't have time for this!" Rhoke slapped the barrel away from his chest, the weapon firing into the sand. He picked up the female in a tackle and used her as a battering ram through the NCR line. The soldiers in the way were bowled over, the rest didn't even know how to react. Rhoke turned around now, the female NCR soldier's weapon being tossed aside with his momentum.

"Follow me if you want your officer back!" And with that the Durant brother took off, the NCR soldier kicking and screaming and hitting the scarred man that carried her. She yelled at the soldiers as she was carried away as well.

"What the hell are you doing! Save me dammit!" Shots rang out after the kidnapper, one of the 5.56 impacting his left arm as he took a right turn. Holy shit that will hurt in a second. Rhoke put the pain in the back of his mind, running as straight as he could toward the armory. Glancing behind him to see that the soldiers were trying to line up a clean shot. They couldn't now, he was too far down the road. The NCR soldier was screaming the whole time. Something along the lines of 'stop shooting at me' or 'you almost hit me you assfuck'.

The armory was approaching, it would be locked, Rhoke had picked it last time he was here, and locked it again so nobody would suspect his appraisal of firearms for the Wes-Tek scavenging job. He chose to ram through this door as well. Rhoke threw the NCR officer to the ground as he connected the corner of his left shoulder with the door. The door gave way, but something in Rhoke's shoulder did as well. He slid across the metal floor, clutching the dislocated limb. This was going from bad to worse in a hurry.

Looking up from his heap, it was seen that the missile was sitting diagonally against the far wall of the bunker, blinking lights still displayed from open panels. It barely fit in the armory, being roughly the size of a semi truck and trailer. It was neatly propped on a curved portion of concrete that had been broken to accommodate the deadly weapon. Rhoke walked over to it, clutching his shoulder with his good arm. He didn't even know where to start dissecting this thing.

The NCR officer was now approaching him, her sidearm drawn to his back as he started sorting through the wires poking from one panel. Rhoke could hear the shouts of soldiers outside, weapons being reloaded. He still didn't have time for the NCR.

"Stop what you're doing, right now!" The brunette officer demanded, she kept her distance this time. Obviously she was concerned with what the psychopath was doing to the enormous explosive.

Rhoke ignored her, pulling off a panel to reveal a small monitor and input keys below it. It was a start.

"I said stop right now!" She cocked her 9mm pistol for emphasis. Rhoke threw down the metal panel covering the monitor and started typing onto the keyboard. He was having difficulty lifting his arm up.

The officer was livid. She would've shot the man if not for the explosive missile on the other side of him. She pushed him against the device instead, weapon raised to the back of his head. The soldiers that gave chase were finally pouring into the building. All weapons were raised at the individual trying to save their lives. The irony was not lost to Rhoke. He turned his head as much as he could with the 9mm pressing into the base of his skull. He managed to look the officer in the eyes with one of his own.

"If I don't disarm this thing, we all die." Was his ultimatum.


"Leon." Frank sputtered, "Stand me up... I don't wanna die in this- this shitty little room." Frank managed to choke the words out, blood flowing from his small wounds in torrents now. Leon propped the dying man up and supported him with his good arm as the two dragged each other passed the broken bodies and eventually out the front door. There were two NCR soldiers who greeted them with weapons drawn, and just as quickly put away.

"We need to get you to a doctor." One of the soldiers said to Frank. Frank shook his head, he knew his time had come.

"Leon, you see that bench? At th-" A gob of blood hit the ground with a smack, "The end of the street?"

Leon didn't even nod his head, carrying the bleeding man down the road, blood trailing behind both of them. Reaching the bench after what felt like an hour in Leon's shot-up state, he sat Frank down on the bench and took a seat himself, facing Frank's club and the sunset behind it. Frank's rate of bleeding was slowing down, his time on this earth was drawing ever closer as all the blood drained from his system.

"You know Leon," Frank started, the brother paying attention to the dying man's words. "I didn't plan on going out like this. I wanted to be famous, to be remembered. Like those-" A cough, more blood on his business suit. "Like those pre-war leaders we never really forgot about. It was my biggest fear, being forgotten. I ha-had the ambition to..." Frank trailed off, he was finding it hard to concentrate. He continued out of sheer willpower. "To get to the top, but I took the wrong pa-th. I'm so sorry Leon, to both of you. The truth is I had your father killed out of fear." Leon's face turned to granite, he had suspicions but Frank's death was beyond his own power now. What good would revenge do for a dying man whose fate was already decided?

The con man continued on, "He learned how far I was willing to go for my goal and didn't want to associate with me, we split. Two months ago, he caught me in my first meeting with the Legion spy and... and-" More blood, coughing fits springing up gouts of the stuff. "I was ordered to kill him, or the spy would. The Legion makes people suffer, I didn't want that to happen to him."

"Just... don't worry about it." Leon didn't know what to say at this point. He had been brought up to believe every person deserved a second chance. The man who had taught him this was his father, and his father's killer was right here confessing it as his last deed on this planet to him.

"...Frank?" The con artist was immobile, eyes closed facing toward his business that was outlined in the setting sun. Oh no.

Instead of the impending firestorm he expected to engulf the entire town, a small earthquake had started up. Buildings started shifting back and forth, their construction not planned to endure. Leon stood from the bench, looking around and finding it hard to balance. The quakes died down as soon as they had started. A missile, no, the missile, had taken off, and was now headed in a direction that appeared to be North East to parts unknown. Rhoke had done it, that glorious bastard!


Lines and lines of text flashed across the askew screen, most of the instructions unintelligible to Rhoke. The NCR officer was taking a chance here, she knew it, but if this maniac was speaking the truth, it didn't matter what they would believe unless he could disarm this thing. A minute passed, the soldiers all looking at the injured man's back as he worked.

The monitor was shut down, and the man turned around. "I want everyone except you two-" He pointed to the NCR officer and a new recruit who was shaking in his boots despite his amazing build. "-to take out as many of the explosives as you can, then start with the firearms." The soldiers didn't question the order vocally but carrying explosives while being next to a large explosive detonation was usually a bad idea. The two pointed out stepped forward. Grabbing a sledgehammer and tossing it to the large recruit with his good arm, he spoke again.

"See where the missile is pointing? I want you to hammer the tin roof away from that area." The man pointed to the corner where the missile end was nestled in. "I disarmed the missile, but I can't stop it from launching. We gotta make sure this thing gets out of town safely." The recruit timidly moved off to do his job, going outside the building so that he may start from the roof.

The eavesdropping soldiers breathed a sigh of relief, the missile wouldn't detonate. That meant that everyone was safe from its contents. The missile itself would've set off everything in the armory though, possibly leveling half the town in the process. Getting this thing out safely was priority one.

The psychotic man had moved to the far side of the missile, and started examining it. Getting it out safely was actually priority two for him. He had taken a nearby welding setup and started burning an inscription onto the side of the missile. I don't know why, but I feel like I need to claim this bit of poetic justice as my own. The ache in Rhoke's shoulder made the task harder, but not impossible. The inscription was done. If he ever found the missile, he would know it was his.

"Hey um... crazy guy! We need your help moving this sheet of the wall over here." The NCR officer was calling him over. Putting the welder back, Rhoke pulled out the metal pins holding the last corner of the wall back. Not being much help but the task done, he yelled for everyone to get out of the area and make sure nobody got near the place.

Across the road to the armory, the NCR communication station, a fortified building that could be considered a safe distance away. Everyone in the nearby buildings were cleared out and moved to the opposite side of the city. Rhoke decided to take the ramp to the roof of the NCR comm station. He wanted to see this thing go.

Seconds ticked by, and as the sun kissed the land, a great tremor shook the town of Ira. Nearly falling off the roof, Rhoke had caught himself on one of the sand bags dotting the flat surface, and shielded his eyes to the dust kicked up from the missile take-off. It was a beautiful sight. Rhoke found himself smiling at the ignition, his scarred flesh stretching to the limits. Footsteps falling on the wooden ramp, the brunette NCR officer stepped up the mad man that had kidnapped her and then somehow saved the whole town. The missile was already out of sight by now.

"You did a good job under the circumstances." She stated. She moved next to him, looking out at the metal debris where the armory used to be."I'll be sure to get you a doctor while you spend a few days in the city jail." Rhoke looked down, surprised to see that one of his hands were clasped in a hand cuff. She almost got his second hand as well, almost anyway. He lunged away from her as she tackled him. His wounds compounded under her assault and he fell to the ground.

"Stop resisting you bastard!" She gave him a right hook across the jaw, then tried to get him on his back, instead Rhoke continued with the roll, making the two roll off the building and onto the street below exchanging fists and kicks until Rhoke managed to stand up, the female officer right on his tail, and ran down the nearest alley. The metal of the handcuff bit into his right wrist, slowing him down, the NCR woman cursing and screaming and tripping him up the entire way. His wounds were catching up to him, it was a good thing it was his right hand she cuffed because his left shoulder couldn't take the strain she was putting on it.

He looked back to see that she was right on his tail. The younger brother couldn't keep this pace up any longer. He tried jerking the cuffed hand ahead of himself to make her loose grip, instead she seemed to gain speed and actually flew past him. He then skidded to a stop, the officer suddenly falling to the ground and pulling hard against his cuffed wrist. It dawned on him that she had accidentally handcuffed herself to Rhoke during the scuffle.

The NCR officer laid there on the ground for a moment, then her head jerked up, looking at the form she was handcuffed too. She pulled out the key and tried to unclasp her handcuff, only to have the rusted iron key break in the lock. The dirt covered solider pulled back the half that snapped in her hand, and threw it too the ground in utter defeat, the man just sat there, streaked in the same dirt as the officer in the opening of an alleyway on an undisclosed street. The sun had finally set and moonlight bathed the town a dark blue, hiding the dispaird faces of the two unique individuals stuck together in the middle of an empty road.

"Well... shit." was all Rhoke could manage to say.


And here we have Chapter Two all wrapped up in a pretty bow for your entertainment! This ended up being around a thousand words larger then the last one. Expect my updates from now on to take more time. I plan to update at least every weekend but the best laid plans sometimes don't hold up to life. Also feel free to rate and review, my motivation runs on those things. As in, the more you do, the quicker I'll pump out updates.