Raul wasn't dead. There was no way. Layla had read enough comic books to know if you didn't see a body, then they're probably not dead. Some tiny rational part of her brain was telling her she was in denial, but she quelled it.

No matter what happened, she needed to get out of this. Even if Raul… wouldn't be able to help her. Getting captured by the Legion was pretty high on her not-good list.

Looking around the caged area, she found herself a little impressed by the amount of ammunition. Why they locked her in with it, she wasn't too sure. She continued cataloging the room and its features, further testing the ropes on her arms as she did. She noticed Paul, the Great Khan that had come down with Karl, looking at her.

"I think we should drug her," he said to the frumentarius, who frowned.

"No," he answered. Layla raised her eyebrows. Figuring the Legionary was still trying to keep up airs about the Great Khan's absorption, she was curious as to what he'd say. "Let her revel in her predicament."

Lame. She would have made up some kind of story about Lanius not liking his merchandise full of needle marks. Either way, it suited her better. If she could just get her hands free, she could pick the cage lock with one of the pins in her hair. Then all she had to do was get a weapon, fight her way through a pack of Great Khans and a frumentarius, then go and find out what actually happened to Raul. Because he wasn't dead.

She hoped.

*.*.*

Regis emerged from his tent, looking around the camp. Something was… off. He didn't know what, though. Melissa, Jack and Diane had already told him their doubts about the Legion, and they planned to confront Papa Khan about breaking the alliance later.

The Courier had certainly lived up to her reputation for getting things done. Regis hadn't expected her to be so quick about it, though. He'd also pictured her taller. When he'd first heard about the woman who'd peacefully negotiated the incident at Boulder City and survived two bullet wounds to the head, quite frankly he'd been expecting a lot of things from the Courier. In real life, she seemed like just a nice kid who was trying to help people.

Walking around the camp, Regis still felt like something was wrong. He almost just chalked it up to the political situation, but that brought a disturbing thought: Karl had been growing ever more irritated since Layla and Raul had shown up. The Courier and her companions had made enemies of the Legion, and now they were here, directly undermining Karl's plans.

Now thoroughly troubled, he decided to check on their guests to see if they were okay. Making his way to their tent, he found the flap closed.

"Hey, Layla?" No answer. "Raul?" Still nothing. He pulled open the flap and looked in.

Neither the woman nor the ghoul were in the tent. There were clear signs of a struggle. One of their bags had been dumped, and there was blood on the ground. Searching further, he found a boot print in the blood, leading out of the tent. He quickly followed it out.

*.*.*

Layla looked around the room, considered her situation again. She was still tied up, still locked in a storage cage, still guarded by an armed Khan. She'd been trying to think of a way to escape, ignoring all parts of her brain that pointed out how impossible it looked.

Layla looked over her current guard; he was a young-looking guy, thumbing through the same magazine her first guard had left behind. He looked restless and slightly annoyed. That was good.

Karl and Paul were gone, and Layla thought she'd heard something about sending for someone to pick her up. That wasn't good, but it did give her time. Looking to the guard, she thought for a moment. Her best course of action was getting the Khan to talk.

"Hey, uh… can I get a drink?"

"Keep it down," he said, still sounding bored. Layla frowned; that had been a weird way to tell her to shut up. Something here wasn't adding up. She decided to dig for information.

"Hey, so, have you guys figured out how you're going to split the bounty yet?"

The guard looked her way, and she continued, "Is it one of those things where Papa Khan gets the money and buys stuff for the tribe, or will you all split it? If I were Papa, I'd go with Plan A, or half of you will end up Fiending-out and getting yourselves killed.

"Papa Khan isn't getting the money directly," the guard said, going back to his magazine. "We'll probably give him most of it if he has a problem with this plan, though."

"What's his problem with the plan?" Layla asked.

The guard started to answer, then stopped himself. "Never you mind," he said instead, going back to his magazine.

"Does Papa Khan even know about this?"

The Khan looked angry. "No more questions. Just sit there and keep your mouth shut until Karl gets back."

Layla nodded; she knew enough now. She pressed her back against the wall firmly, then started screaming. The Khan guard looked shocked for a moment, then moved to silence her. When he got past the cage door and came within range, Layla kicked him solidly, still screaming all the while.

"What in the -!" Karl yelled, suddenly rushing into the room. He leapt at the Courier, dodging her oncoming kick as he slapped a hand over her mouth. She bucked against him, nearly knocking the man off her, but he held on.

By this point, Paul had returned as well, looking over the situation. "How about you listen to me about drugging her?" he suggested, not bothering to keep the smugness out of his tone.

The Legionary grimaced. "Fine, do it."

The Great Khan seemed pleased. "Hold on, I've got something real nice for you, sweetheart," he said to Layla, going for a small case on the table. As he prepped a syringe, Layla struggled harder against Karl. The frumentarius was far stronger than she and had little trouble keeping her still.

As Paul approached with the now-filled syringe, the Courier began struggling desperately. She felt herself staring to panic, remembering the last time she'd been helpless in Great Khan hands. She'd come out of that with a new hole in the head. This time, she'd probably fare far worse. By the time she came around, she'd probably be waking up to a slave collar and her own auction.

As Paul knelt down to her, syringe in hand, Layla couldn't help the frightened noise she made. She hated showing weakness in front of Legionaries, especially the Frumentarii, but all prior thoughts of bravery were gone as she tried to squirm away.

A moment later, she felt the needle puncture her arm, and her last clear thoughts were of Raul's bloody jumpsuit and that no one would be coming to rescue her…

*.*.*

Regis followed the trail of blood leading out of the tent and further into the canyon. By now, he'd heard about the bounty the Legion had put on Layla. They wanted her alive, but the condition of the tent and the blood trail left him wondering if they'd had to take extreme measures. Whatever the case, he doubted Karl could have done this on his own.

A cold anger started building in the Khan's chest. If one of his people violated Papa Khan's guarantee of safety for caps, he'd skin them alive. Honor was one of the few things the Khans had left, and to throw it away like this was despicable.

Just at that thought had crossed his mind, he found the blood trail had stopped. Looking around, he found himself among several storage containers. Sighing, he stated looking them over, expecting to find the Courier and her friend's bodies crammed into one of the boxes.

He spotted an area where something had been dragged on the ground. Following the trail, he found it led around a stack of crates. Behind the crates was a dead Great Khan.

Regis stared at the body for a moment. It was Julian, one of the younger members. He'd been shot cleanly through the forehead.

As he examined the body, he heard gravel crunching behind him. Before he could turn, Regis felt what could only be the barrel of a gun jab him in the back. He let out a grunt; whoever had jammed the gun into him had probably been aiming for his kidney on purpose. He put his hands up.

"Where is she?" he heard from behind him as his gun was taken from its holster.

"Layla? I don't know," he said. "I'm looking for her too."

"Wrong answer." His attacker sounded calm but there was fury in his tone. "Was this your plan the whole time? Roll out the welcome mat until we let our guards down? Was two million caps too much to ignore, or is she a present for your new masters?" Regis had to bite back a groan as the gun was pressed harder into him.

"Damn it, I don't know what's happened," he answered. "I went check on you and found your tent was ripped up. I think it was Karl, maybe a few idiot Khans still listening to what he had to say, but neither I nor Papa Khan had anything to do with it."

There was a pause, and the gun was removed. Turning, he found Raul glaring at him. His jumpsuit was gone, replaced with a bandoleer-covered dark brown cowboy get up. Half his face was covered in dried blood, and he looked furious.

"Do Khans usually break their word?"

"No," Regis groaned. "Listen, the way things have been, some of us are desperate, and Karl's been making promises that sound exactly like what we want. And some of us are fucking stupid."

"Where would they have taken her?" the ghoul asked, his anger fading slightly.

Regis thought for a moment. "The armory. If she's still in the canyon, this would be the place to hold her." He sighed. "I can't promise you she's still alive…"

"She will be," Raul said tightly. "The Legion wants to make her an example."

"How are we going to do this?" Regis asked as Raul handed back his gun. The ghoul's grimace intensified.

"I'm going to go down there and kill everything that isn't Layla."

*.*.*

Hazy. Everything was hazy. She didn't know what was going on, but she felt tired, like she could barely keep herself awake. Finally, she gave up and closed her eyes against the murkiness that blocked her vision, only to find that sleep wouldn't come.

Maybe it was because she was uncomfortable; her arms were twisted funny. She tried to move them, but couldn't.

There was a sudden, loud noise and Layla suddenly remembered she was supposed to be scared about something. She couldn't remember what it was, but as the air filled with shouts and loud bangs, she started panicking. By now she had determined she was lying on her side, and tried to sit up. Her body didn't respond after a few attempts, so she managed to pull her knees up to her chin and waited, trembling.

A few moments later, the loud noises stopped. There was the sound of metal grating against the ground, and footsteps approached her. She could feel hands on her arms, and she tried to squirm away. Whoever was touching her let go and suddenly she could move her hands.

Someone was talking, but Layla couldn't make out the words. Whoever it was spoke in a soothing voice. She felt the hands on her arms again, this time noticing the rough and smooth patches of skin. There was a smell too, something familiar. A mix of engine grease, gunpowder and flesh. Raul, it was Raul.

The hands moved away again, but she reached out for them, whimpering. The arms were back a moment later, wrapping around her protectively. It took her a few moments to realize she'd started crying with relief.


Thank you for reading. Also thank you if you happen to write a review or favorite me. Next Wednesday, we'll finish this story. The Wednesday after that, on my 11th anniversary of being a member, we will begin "For Science!"

8/15/11 UPDATE: Due to a back injury I sustain during the weekend, the final chapter of "Golden Years" will posted on Saturday instead of Wednesday of this week. The following Wednesday we will continue with "For Science!"