Freeside, even with the truckload of issues she'd soon discover, was a word apart from the dread of the Mojave—for Angelita. Every community had its own personality that made it unique, which was also what made Freeside so odd. Those that had control of the area emulated one another from head to toe. Angelita was amused with every little ounce of affection the men set aside for their hair and how they walked, even how they dressed was something she'd never seen before. Adam was less than enthused to be dealing with, as he put it, 'a group of wannabes led by some moron with an accent that only got off of his ass to get in and out of bed.' Just as they'd been on the way to see out her uncle, Adam decided to backtrack and made his way back to the outer layer of Freeside. Without saying as much, he had business to attend to at Mick & Ralph's.
"You still let that piece of shit Dixon hang around outside?" Adam was addressing Mick inside of the store's hidden compartment.
"Every time you come around someone asks me the same thing once you're gone." Mick spoke with a smile while he leaned against a wall. "They go on and on about me helping a—"
"Keep it down," Adam pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the front of the store. Angelita was sitting in chair in front of Ralph. "Little angel over there doesn't know."
"What's the deal with her anyway? I could've sworn you said you didn't want to deal with the ladies unless they were getting paid by the evening." Mick looked over Adam's shoulder to get a better view of Angelita.
"There's some caps in it, should be enough to put me over the top."
"Yeah, well, just don't let one of those Omerta boys get an eye on her. She'll be gone before you know it."
"I'm aware." Adam took turned around to check on Angelita, who was busy looking at a calendar and globe in sheer boredom. "I haven't said anything to her but I'm assuming this uncle's at the Atomic Wrangler, should be an interesting evening."
"Just don't set the place on fire, alright?"
"Never do," Adam shifted and set his eyes on the special inventory. "You manage to get your hands on what I was asking for?"
"Yep, the Omertas have some morons for lieutenants nowadays, didn't realize that the documents were doctored." Mick moved to the cell door and pulled out a key. With the door opened, he retrieved an Anti-Materiel rifle in pristine condition and handed it over to Adam. "It's a heavy son of a bitch."
"Yes it is." Adam took the twenty pound behemoth and looked it over before handing it back to Mick. "I'd love to take it with me now, but a rifle that size… too obvious."
"What about the one you're already carrying?"
"I was actually hoping to leave this with you too and pick up some other stuff before I head out. You mind if I left some things here? Don't trust anyone at the Wrangler."
Adam and Mick went on discussing terms for a few minutes. Angelita couldn't sit still another second and started meandering around the frontend of the store. Ralph, busy with work, didn't notice or didn't really care that she was inspecting the store's inventory. When Adam did finally return he was without the rucksack that she had been hoping to get a peek inside of for the past day or so. In fact, the rifle she had been used to staring at while they walked was also gone.
"Where's your gun?"
"Perceptive, aren't we?" Adam smiled, but gave her no answer. "What's your uncle's name?"
"James."
Halfway out of the door Adam stopped and stared at Angelita. "Are you sure your uncle's name is James?"
"That's what my mother told me. That we'd get to Freeside and I could sing."
"As far as I know James doesn't have any family besides his sister—you sure this uncle wasn't just a family friend? Someone that your parents knew might have owed them a favor." Adam hadn't budged from the doorway.
"I… guess?" Angelita truly didn't know. Her voice was supposed to be their ticket out of the wastes and into a community where they didn't need to constantly worry about their immediate safety. "Can we go see him?"
Adam was suddenly annoyed with the situation. The thought of getting a wad of caps over a simple escort job had blinded him to the obvious facts. If she really had an uncle that worked in a casino he probably would have been able to afford to pay a mercenary to escort his family across the Mojave—exactly what he had just done. Now, with his reputation, there was no guarantee that he was going to get any money out of the situation for which he was down caps for to begin with.
The first dent in Angelita's luck came through as they rounded the first corner outside of Mick & Ralph's. Poorly dressed, smelling of death and carrying an assortment of knives and hammers, a group of thugs rapidly approached the pair. Adam stopped and felt behind him—sure enough Angelita was pressing into his back and doing her best to use him as a shield.
They were twitching, every last one of them. The leader, at least the one Adam assumed was the leader, could barely hold his hammer straight while he fought off the urge to scratch his arms down to the bone. He came to the conclusion that they were all Dixon's customers, ones that he could convince to spend any shred of caps they came across on his chems. It wasn't too farfetched that he had mentioned to one or two of them that Adam was back in town and had a bunch of caps on him or any lie he could conjure up to create this situation.
"Why don't the three of you turn your skinny asses around and scurry off into the alley again?" Adam reached into his duster and curled his fingertips around his 10mm pistol. "Go tell Dixon I said hello, okay?"
Angelita was sure that Adam had lost his mind somewhere in between walking out of the store and standing where they were now. It had only been about thirty or seconds, but that was enough time for someone to get all of their wires crossed, wasn't it? She clung to the back of the duster for dear life, digging her fingernails into the rough leather while she kept her face planted against his back. She'd already seen them, there was no need to look at them again and make sure there was a trio blocking their way and likely trying to kill them.
"Just gonna stand there, eh?"
The ease in which Adam handled all three of the men spoke volumes to their state of mind; not a single one of them struck home in their wild flailing attempts to stab or bludgeon him. The first thug with a knife lunged forward and he simply stepped to the side, the cracks in the old street doing the job of tripping and sending him to the ground face first. Another weave of his body, as casual as the first, allowed the second thug to miss and be carried to the ground with all of his body's momentum. The third didn't fare as well as the first two—he was the only one of the bunch that Adam actually set out to hurt. The pistol, firmly in his grip beneath the duster, was yanked free and pointed down towards the oncoming thug's knee, at which point he pulled the trigger.
The howl that spilled from the thug's mouth was soul-crushing. It was a pain that one couldn't quite grasp unless they had experienced a bullet tearing through their body—and to the knee; he'd never walk the same way again. Adam wasn't bothered by the sight and neither was anyone in the immediate area—this was life in Freeside, outside of the strip. It was a more contained community than the Mojave at large, but it still held all the familiar charms of the dust-filled wasteland just a few feet away.
"Come on, before he decides to get up and try something new."
Embracing morbid curiosity was something Angelita couldn't bring herself to fight off, not with the thug writhing and squealing like a dying animal. It wasn't the worst wound she'd ever seen—accidents had generated more gruesome displays—but the fact that he twisted and squirmed, choking and gargling words, made her uneasy but unwilling to turn away. The way the blood took to the cracked and eroded streets, like any liquid would have, forced her eyes to follow every dip and turn it took while it spread out across the street. She would have stared all day and night had it not been for Adam grabbing her like always did
Protected by four walls the mood inside of Freeside was still somber; even with criers shouting about their employers the touch of the wasteland could be felt in the air. The getaway wasn't quite the getaway most people had expected. Nevertheless, Adam trudged on with Angelita, absorbing the stares from numerous kings and ignoring those that sounded more and more desperate for their business. The Atomic Wrangler was their present destination, a location Adam knew all too well. For her own sake, Adam stuck to the right side of the road, careful not to gesture any movement towards the Van Graffs. Weapons were always appreciated, but he had learned a lesson some time ago that a man parted with his weapons as a dead as one who taunted a Deathclaw.
Though a guard stared, it was Francine Garrett that greeted them. "Rooms are t—well, look who the hell it is. You've got some nerve walking back in here after that stunt you pulled. Brought a girl with you this time too, huh? Take her to James."
"Nice to see you too, Pat. Say, do you still…" Adam went through an elaborate display of finger poking and tongue undulating.
"Screw you."
Angelita stood behind Adam while he engaged the proprietor or at least one half of it. "What?"
"Nothing, just screwing with her until your 'uncle' comes around." Adam leaned against the bar, both forearms against the top while he eyed Francine. "That is, unless your lovely aunt over here decides to go get her brother."
Interestingly enough the fact that Patricia had been referred to as an aunt didn't bother her. In fact, one could say that anything that came out of Adam's mouth in the wrangler wasn't taken seriously to begin with—chalk it up to a long and color history he had within the confines. The request to retrieve her brother, however, was not completely unheeded. With business to be taken care of and a pretty girl standing by the door, there could have been a deal of sorts struck, or so went her line of thought. Whatever kept her from rounding up guards to throw Adam out of the casino is what made her retrieve James from the backroom. A few minutes after the request James showed up at the bar and immediately took to staring at Angelita, completely ignoring Adam's presence.
"How the hell did you get here?" James' voice was loud enough to attract everyone in the main room. "Where's your father?"
"Her parents are dead. Raiders, bandits—something like that," Adam interjected. "She isn't really your niece is she?"
"Who the hell let you in?" The distraction Angelita had presented meant that James was just now becoming aware of his surroundings, Adam included. "No. She's not a blood relative, but I had a few dealings with her parents."
"Last time I checked you two took any swinging dick with caps." Adam checked behind his shoulder to gauge Angelita's reaction.
Angelita was staring down at the ground, hands behind her back and squirming. It was an uncomfortable situation: her father and mother had convinced her that this was their salvation. A trek across the Mojave would ultimately allow them to meet long lost family and forge a better life for themselves and eventually her own family. When she finally reached her destination her parents were dead and the supposed uncle wasn't actually her family. Making matters worse was the fact that James looked far too young to be an actual friend of her father's—nothing made any sense and it made her nervous. The toe of her boots was thumped against the floor and she fought fiercely against the urge to stuff her fingers in her mouth to chew on her nails—though she did crack her fingers.
"Can I speak with you in the back, Adam?" James had lowered his voice to a whisper while he addressed Adam, his eyes still on the nervous Angelita.
"About?"
"Could you just get the hell in the backroom—it's important." He lowered his voice even further. "She doesn't need to hear this."
Adam furrowed his eyebrows and stared at James, waiting for him to blink and back down from such an out of character request. It never came and he found himself as confused as poor Angelita standing behind him. Without so much as a word to the young woman, Adam nodded and made his way to the backroom with James after hopping the bar. The guards seemed to jump in on the confusion as well; the one by the door pushed up from his post and was waved off by James whereas another two from the other side of the room received the same signal.
"What the hell is so important that I get to see what's behind the infamous locked door?" Adam was annoyed and wasn't bothering to hide it. "Secrets usually mean more work and rarely any caps to justify it."
"Look, I don't care where you found her; you need to get rid of her."
"I'm sorry, what?" Adam folded his arms across his chest. "Didn't you say you knew her folks? She's been going on and on about being some kind of singer."
"I don't care if her voice makes caps ran out of the goddamn sky, she can't stay here." The worry in James' voice and his face couldn't be faked. He was afraid. "Take her back wherever you got her and leave her there."
"You're going to have to make this make sense to me before I do anything." Adam shrugged his shoulders. "Or I could just leave her here, how about that?"
"This is serious. They were a goddamn family of runaway slaves, Adam."
"And?"
"Who the hell do you think has the most slaves in the region? The Legion!"
"Wait, wait, wait," Adam put his hands up and considered what he knew about the legion and slavery. "That doesn't make any sense—since when do they allow families to stay together?"
"They don't." James went pacing about the backroom, growing increasingly nervous the longer Angelita was in the casino. "It was like this: the father was reaching the end of his usefulness and didn't want to be put out to pasture, so he started forming a plan to escape. His master had the mother and the daughter. Apparently, the only reason the girl wasn't turned into a breeding cow was because she could sing. Sung songs to the legionaries before they went off to battle or some other crap—whatever she did, she was important and they went around begging anyone to help them."
"And you decided to help them out of the kindness of your heart?" Adam poked and prodded at the perceived holes in the story.
"Have you heard the girl sing? You put her in a clean dress and put her on stage—you wouldn't be able to count the caps people would pay to see her. New Vegas doesn't have a star—she'd be the first one."
"So you send her straight across the Mojave to rot?"
"It was the father's idea. I told him they couldn't stay here, not while things were so tense. They've got spies everywhere. Imagine having her on stage and a group of them walk in. We'd all be dead before we knew what the hell happened. So I told them to lay low."
"How would a star not attract unwanted attention?"
"Well. I was hoping to move onto the strip. I'd like to see the Legion take on Mr. House and win that one." James stopped pacing, he was still proud of the idea.
"So the girl knows who you are? She knew that you weren't her uncle?" Adam turned and began to walk to the door.
"Not as innocent as you thought, eh?"
