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CHAPTER FOUR

A Rather Quick Battle

Bond lit a cigarette as he sat in the chair waiting for the Powder Gangers. He'd gotten through the first pack long ago. He'd just now finished yet another pack. He threw the empty pack off to the side, leaned back in the wooden chair, and waited. Only a few days ago he'd been shot. Buried alive, too, apparently. He wondered why he had no memory of this. Like Doc Mitchell had said, it'd be a hard thing to forget. Perhaps he'd been shot in the head? And now what? Live in Goodsprings? Something told him that just wasn't what he was meant for. Something in the back of his mind kept bugging him about something, kept reminding him of a man with a pipe. He knew he wasn't gay, perhaps this man was a father? He couldn't be a brother, he remembered the man as a much older man. A man made of stern stuff, with a stern face. He kept thinking his name was Em, but that couldn't be it, he was no Em, Em wasn't the kind of name you'd give a man like him if you didn't want to get a swift kick to the teeth. Bond sighed and chewed on his cigarette. It just kept nagging him.

Here came what Bond guessed were the Powder Gangers. There were about five or six of them. In the front was what Bond supposed to be the leader, an African-American man dressed in similar clothes to his partners.

"Hey!" Bond yelled out.

One of the Powder Gangers turned towards Bond. As he did this, a bullet swam out from a Walther PPK. It flew through the air on its journey, tasting freedom from the darkness it had been trapped within for quite a long time, and twirling and twirling through the air until it finally hit against what first made it think it would have a soft landing, but then pushing through and cracking through something white and hard, then lodging itself in something red and meaty.

Then the other shots began, and soon the group of banditos was no more. Bond hadn't been shot any, which was very lucky, considering he shot the first shot. Hmm. Yeah, very lucky. Luck worth a 9 out of ten. The little casino machine might actually be more than it seemed.

Bond stood up from the chair. He figured he'd go to the gas station and get some more cigarettes, then head on out to New Vegas. Over the last few days while the town had been preparing for the fight with the Powder Gangers he'd asked Trudy some more about the Strip. Casinos with rooms to stay in, money to gain, and martinis to be drunk. Over the last few days Bond had been drinking nothing but their terrible whiskies and sodas and occasionally a drink they called "Nuka Cola." Bond was heading for the gas station when he heard a voice behind him.

"Hey, thanks for helping with the Powder Gangers," it said.

Bond turned around and saw Ringo.

"Here, take these caps. It's the least I can do for you after what you've done for me," Ringo said, and handed him a pouch.

Bond looked at the pouch and thought of something. If he was headed for New Vegas, he'd probably need more money than this. He smiled and said, "Say, Ringo, how about a game of caravan?"

Over the last few days he'd also learned of caravan. The basic idea was to build three piles of cards called caravans. Each caravans value couldn't be over 26. The goal was to get all three of your caravans all together to equal a higher amount than the other players. It seemed pretty simple. Ringo had given him a deck a few days ago. He was told you could continue to use the same deck for as many caravan games as you want.

Ringo grinned. Bond knew the American liked caravan.

"Why not?" Ringo said.

Soon the two were sitting in the bar in one of the booths. Bond picked out his cards to use from his deck as Ringo did the same. He chose mostly high-value cards.

"All done," Bond said.

"Same here. How much do you want to play for?" Ringo asked.

Bond thought a second. Ringo had told him there were 500 caps in the bag. Might as well get 1,000.

"500 caps," Bond replied. (Yes, I know, Ringo doesn't have that much money in the game.)

"Good number," Ringo said, and the game began.

Ringo took the first move, placing a 5 down on the table for his first caravan.

Deciding to save his bigger numbers for later, Bond also put a 5 down.

For his next caravan however, Ringo put down a ten. Bond copied his moves again and also put down a ten.

Ringo noticed this and put down a 4 for his third caravan. Bond put down a 7. He had two more tens, and he planned to use them.

Ringo put down a 7 on his first caravan. He seemed to be moving pretty quick. He must have a strategy. One he's confident of. Well, it was time to break that confidence.

Bond added a ten to his first caravan, adding up currently to fifteen. Already off to a good start. Wanting to get back up to the lead, Ringo put a ten down for his second caravan, adding up to a twenty.

Bond added up Ringo's current values of his caravans. His first caravan was worth 12. His second worth 20, his third still worth 4. His caravan's altogether added up to 36. The bastard was winning!

Bond placed his ten on his third caravan, in a hurry to get back to the lead but continuing to follow his plan. Bond added up how he was doing so far. His first caravan was fifteen, his second was still ten, and his third was seventeen. Forty-two. He was back in the lead.

Seeing this, Ringo put down a six in his second caravan, adding up to that caravan's full amount.

Bond decided it was time to heighten his second caravan's amount. He put down a nine. It's value was now nineteen. He had to get at least two of his caravans between 21 and 27 to win the game.

Ringo put down a seven on his first caravan, adding up to nineteen.

Bond put down a six in his second caravan, adding up to its full amount. The game was almost over. Bond would either lose all his money and win some more.

Ringo added a ten to his third caravan. Either an incredibly stupid move, or Ringo was letting him win. Bond looked up from his cards at Ringo's face to try to decide whether or not he was doing this. No, the American looked anxious, nervous, realizing he was about to lose his money and making moves in a hurry. Feeling no mercy, Bond placed a seven in his first caravan, which added up to 22.

He'd won.

Ringo sighed, looking at Bond's cards.

"Well, guess you're pretty well off now, huh, Mr. Bond?" he asked.

"It was a good game, friend," Bond said, standing up and collecting his cards.

"Gonna take a while to earn back that much money at the Crimson Caravan. Oh well, there's always the risk of losing money when you play with Lady Luck, huh?" Ringo said.

"Don't be glum. Lady Luck is a mysterious stranger (Re-read that last bit a few times and you might see the future of this story), she doesn't have favorites, she just picks one bloke or another," Bond said, and put his deck away.

Ringo pulled out another pouch for Bond and gave it to him.

"Say, do you know any good routes to New Vegas?" Bond asked.

"Huh. That's what you ask me? I thought you'd be the type to ask me if I'd seen the guy who shot you. Anyway, there's no real exact routes around here, it's mostly just desert. Head to Novac through Nipton, maybe, Novac has a good hotel you can stay at to rest, and it's fairly close to Lake Vegas. Then you head to Vegas. You don't need 'east, west, north' directions or anything like that, you'll see the Lucky 38 shining at night even from here in Goodsprings if you get up on a high rise. Trudy can give you directions to Novac, if you choose to go that way, since there are a lot of Deathclaws if you decide to just go straight across the desert," Ringo said.

"Thanks for the help. By the way, maybe I wouldn't mind some information on the guy who shot me," Bond said.

"Thought so. I saw him coming through here, the two Great Khans, that's another gang by the way, with him called him Benny. He wore a plaid suit. I think they were talking about heading towards Primm. That's near here, just follow the road. You can probably also see it from here, got a big old carnival ride that's been abandoned," Ringo said.

"See you later, Ringo," Bond said.

Ringo mumbled something, sunk down in his seat with his arms crossed. Bond left. Time for some casinos.