Chapter 10

Along I-5

Natalie barely avoided Lars's hook, managing to prevent herself from stumbling back. They had danced around the campfire, managing to evade the strikes they traded with each other. Natty's mind was racing, barely keeping up with the exchanges with Perez. Is he serious, she asked herself? No, he has to be full of it, there's no way he'd give up so much over a little fight like this. She threw a straight that brushed right past Perez's ear, throwing him off balance. Excited, Natalie laid into him, forcing him to defend himself.

Blow after blow landed against his defense. When the fight had started, Natalie told herself that it was critical that she win the fight by a knockout. Regardless of how Lars dictated the fight was supposed to end, she had to prove beyond any doubt that she was stronger then him. The idea that an alcoholic could beat her was nothing more then a sick joke. This is for all the Rangers who won't die in vain!

I'm going to do it, she told herself. I'm actually going to tan the hide of the man who cost us everything. She could only imagine the look on President Kimball's face when she dragged his sorry ass into the NCR Capitol. It would be the greatest victory a single Ranger had ever achieved. An entire country, won in a fistfight! The awards she would win, the stories they would tell, she could already see it! As she drew back her arm for the finishing blow, she noticed that Lars had broken his guard. Smiling deviously, Natalie threw a blow with her entire weight behind it, while Lars had done the same. Knowing she was faster, Natalie could only watch helplessly as Lars knocked her arm off course with his elbow.

Some distance away

Cass, Raul, and Lily were chatting with each other. In the months that had followed the Battle of Hoover Dam, Cass had learned to trust the instincts of her two senior members. The two had lifetimes of experience on her, and she was superior to them only in rank. As such, she came to rely on them for advice when it came to things that bothered her. Like the package they were carrying.

"I know the policy. "Stuff that was wrapped stays wrapped," but I'm just saying, it kinda bothers me about the secrecy. I mean, most of our clients are pretty open, and I'm not particularly bothered by our deliveries, but something about this job just doesn't sit right," she explained to the other two.

"Boss, speaking as someone who enjoyed peeking at Christmas presents, remember that professionalism is our main selling point," Raul reminded.

"I know that, Raul, but the guy at the office just… didn't really sit well with me. Personally, this stinks like another Mordino job. Speaking of, your arm still feels OK, Lily?" Cass asked.

"Oh, its nothing to worry about, Ms. Cassidy. Nothing a stimpack and some bandages couldn't heal up. Besides, I showed those little punks why no one messes with Granny," Lily responded.

Cass laughed. "Well, its good you guys know how to fight. Hey, any of you been as far west as San Francisco?" Cass asked.

Once upon a time, Cass traveled all throughout the West Coast. Before the borders of the NCR were somewhat coherent and stable, a caravan needed to be able to handle anything that could be thrown at it. If one couldn't take down a super mutant, you had no business hauling cargo. Cass had been able to survive after going as far north as Washington, as far east as Montana, and as far south as the tip of Baja. She had been to San Francisco twice; once as a teenager before the name change, and once a few years ago with her old crew. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but something about that city made her nervous. Not helping matters was that neither Lily or Raul had ever been there, so she couldn't bounce off any opinions against them.

"Alright then, so where is Boone?" she asked her compatriots.

Before they could respond, the man in question came bounding up to them. "We need to get back to camp. NOW!" he spoke, curtly. Trusting their rookie member, the four followed their sniper back to base. When they arrived, Natalie was in a knee bar, locked in tightly by Lars. Every bit of struggle she put forward furthered her agony.

"C'mon, Ranger, you don't want to walk on a dislocated knee, you know the magic words," he taunted. "Eat…shit," Natalie gritted. "Tried it. Overrated," Perez answered. He was about to snap something when a shill whistle interrupted his train of thought.

"Perez, I don't think that the NCR will appreciate you breaking the leg of your official escort," Cass offered.

"Don't care, we made a bet," Lars said, continuing to apply the hold. Cass walked up to the two combatants, looking over their predicament.

"Natalie, you're not going to win. Just surrender," Cass said, scarcely concealing her boredom.

"No! I can still beat him!" the Ranger screamed.

Cass shrugged, "Alright," and sat down nearby to continue watching the show. Boone looked from his boss to Lars, seeing that his grip right now was way too tight for her to escape. First Recon wasn't renowned for their close-quarters prowess, but it was obvious to anyone who had brawled enough that Lars had already won the fight.

Natalie was in hell. There was no other way to describe it. Her leg muscles were burning, her options were exhausted, and she was faced with two unacceptable outcomes. A broken knee would sideline her indefinitely, and in the middle of nowhere, to say it would be disastrous would understate it. But losing… wonderful. Her first real fight and the result…

"I quit." The courier looked over his shoulder to the rookie soldier.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"I QUIT, I QUIT, YOU WIN!" she screamed. Lars released her, causing her to collapse in exhaustion.

Boone approached her, extending his hand. "You OK?" he asked. Swatting the hand away, Natalie pulled herself to her feet, before faltering back to the ground. "And that is why the NCR lost," Lars decided to add, smugly.

"What… the hell… does a fistfight have to do with anything," Natalie snarled.

Dusting off his palms, Lars looked back down to the woman. "You weren't thinking about that during half the fight, weren't you? You were thinking about dragging my proverbial broken ass all the way to the capital, huh? You counted your deathclaws before they hatched, instead of focusing on the problem in front of you. The NCR fucked around for five entire years, but the only progress they made was the progress I handed to them. The NCR was so abysmal at handling its own situations, that I realized giving them Vegas would be a colossal mistake," he half-lectured. Natalie continued glaring up at him. "So, if there's someone you want to be pissed at, blame your leaders for throwing your family's lives away while arbitrarily deciding to put all their faith in a rogue element," he smugly concluded, before sauntering off towards who knows where.

Natalie was about to follow him when Cass blocked her path. "Whatever issues you had with each other is from this point forward settled. Another brawl, and I will personally expulse you from the caravan. With a shotgun," she threatened.

Natalie stared at her with disbelief. "It… it was his damn idea in the first place," she protested.

"I figured. Next time he tries to bait you, come to me, and I'll put a stop to it," Cass replied, before walking off to tear Perez a new one.

Boone reluctantly approached Natalie, offering a hand on her shoulder. "Not many people are brave enough to take on Lars one on one. Regardless of what anyone says, I was impressed," he offered.

Natalie roughly shoved the sniper off. "If you're trying to make me feel better, patronize someone else," she muttered.

Boone shook his head. "I'm serious. I've never seen anyone take him in hand to hand. I'm starting to think that no one really can."

Shi-town

After being re-adjusted, the Shi's numbers had exploded after winning the turf war. No longer limited to descendants from the crew, the Shi accepted anyone who could handle their recruitment and training. With resources that could rival the Brotherhood of Steel, the organization ruled Shi-town with an iron fist. Though none opposed them, there were certain jobs that no one envied. Opinions varied, but the one constant was the single most feared task anyone could have the misfortune of having. Sparring partner.

The three members still standing surrounded Zhang on three corners. Originally, they began the spar with seven. All of varying builds, temperaments, and sizes, but every sparing partner had some experience with hand to hand combat. Supposedly, Zhang thought to herself. Maybe her reputation was getting ahead of itself, or maybe she had already disposed of this country's greatest fighters. Either option was acceptable. Wearing a simple gi, Zhang beckoned the men to attack her. Each refused. Annoyed, Zhang indicated the rack of weapons nearby. Hopefully, they would think that alone would give them an advantage. The lies people told themselves.

Outside the sparring chamber, in the lobby, Ziyi had just returned from her visit. It was good to speak with her friends outside the Palace. Putting her ear against the wall of the dojo, she could hear Zhang getting to work on the poor fools selected to keep her sharp. Giggling, Ziyi took her seat at the desk, and proceeded to deal with the issues of the day. Taxes, loans, acquisitions, the usual. As she began processing it, she heard something slam into the wall behind her. Not ten seconds later, Zhang exited the dojo, not even sweating.

Immediately, Ziyi turned to her master. "From what I heard, you've had an excellent practice," she complimented.

Zhang turned swiftly towards her friend. "Where were you earlier?" she demanded to know.

"I… I was out checking of our businesses throughout the city," Ziyi explained.

"Without bodyguards? Which businesses?" Zhang demanded.

Ziyi started to get nervous. "I… did not believe it necessary to bring with me bodyguards on such an unimportant errand. As for businesses, I inspected the loading docks, eastern bank, and…" she started.

Zhang closed in on her. "Do you wish to lie to me, Feng Ziyi?"

Ziyi began to feel a chill throughout her body. "I… I merely wished to get some fresh air. I do not like being stuck inside all day," she half-admitted. Zhang looked at her for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, she broke her gaze and walked to the elevator. "Whatever your new hobbies, they are of no concern to me," Zhang concluded. She entered the elevator without another word. When the doors shut, Ziyi couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief.

Inside the elevator, Zhang went over the itinerary for the day. Her researchers assured her that they were coming ever closer to effectively replicate energy weaponry. Not having to deal with the Gun Runners would be a blessing, as she didn't want to have to alert the NCR with large purchases of wares from the Boneyard. Power armor, well, her scientists could only do so much. Even though they've had nearly two centuries to come up with something, she sneered internally. Her alliances with the families of New Reno were beginning to ripen as well, which would be useful for her plan to come to fruition. Finally, the NCR and Legion were almost right where she wanted them. Soon, a new Cold War would be introduced to the world, allowing her to maneuver unheeded by the two superpowers.

Her stop was at the penultimate floor of the Palace, the third. Upon exiting, she saw that her steam bath had already been drawn, the mist beginning to settle. Taking in the aroma, Zhang disrobed, and then made herself comfortable in the bath. She didn't need to take one, the workout wasn't nearly challenging enough for that, but this was her favorite part of a boring day, and she wouldn't trade it for the world. As she drifted off to her own thoughts, she began to dream. She dreamed of a nobler time, of a time when countless people worked together to achieve a goal. She dreamed of a time where people learned from the old, and people never forgot their pasts or duties. She dreamed of a time when atomic fire did not dictate the fate of the world.

As she dozed off, Ziyi went over her paperwork. Most days, her workload was innocuous and somewhat guilt free. Today's business, however, was no such luck. Zhang's orders were to sift through the dossiers and files of the many mercenaries and hired guns of the NCR. During the Mojave Campaign, many guns-for-hire ended up exploiting the recent vacuum left by the NCR military and ended up working with various factions and interests. Some worked security, others attacked competitors, and some worked independently. With the entire military returned, however, the relative half-decade free-for-all for these groups had come to an end. For her own reasons, Zhang had handed Ziyi her pocketbook, telling her to bolster the payroll while much of her security had left on an "errand."

Looking through the dossiers, Ziyi was surprised to see a name she had actually been familiar with. In the pre-War era, the Japanese Yakuza had several holdings in the western end of the United States. Miraculously (and perhaps to Madame Zhang's personal disappointment) some of the group survived the Great War. Recently, they had taken up stationing themselves around the city of New Reno, although they had never managed to enter the city like the major crime families. According to the file, in an era of laser weaponry and power armor, the Yakuza had insisted on holding onto and using their traditional weaponry, like swords and throwing knives. Somehow, their dedication had allowed them to survive, though they lived as little more then raiders for nearly two centuries. Maybe, Ziyi thought, the promise of a home was all that was needed to bring forth the necessary loyalty Zhang desired.

Along I-15

Daybreak was fast approaching for the small camp. Arcade stood watch as Veronica tried fitfully to doze off by the campfire. "Just… how far are we from Dayglow, anyway?" she yawned.

"Probably a day or two… maybe," Arcade suggested.

Veronica sat up. "Wait, what the heck is "maybe?" You've been to Dayglow before, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, about ten years ago," Arcade replied. "And you're sure you know the way?" she asked.

"I… yeah, I mean… look at the road…" Arcade muttered. The road in front of them was nearly scorched into the sands, making it hard to read where the route was supposed to go.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Wonderful, we're lost."

"We aren't lost, Veronica, we're just… in need of some course correction," Arcade offered.

"Couldn't we just get your Enclave friends to give us a lift?" Veronica asked.

"I don't think anyone in the NCR will appreciate seeing a Vertibird," confessed Arcade.

Veronica leaned back against the ground, looking up at the stars. No need to panic, she told herself. They just passed a settlement a few miles back, and if they got desperate enough, they could always head back and ask for directions. Still, it would take days to reach the city, which was further complicated by the need to find a safe place to lay their heads every night. It wasn't unheard of to have a lax awareness of ones surrounding to result in the death of the entire slumber party. Just another reason they should have brought Rex, maybe?

"Alright, tell you what, I stay awake till midnight, then you take over until sun up, then we hit the road at dawn. Sound fair?" Arcade asked.

"Fine, whatever," Veronica muttered. Arcade sighed, and promptly headed out to scout around. Drawing his pistol, he looked around until he settled on a rock mound as a good place to stand guard. Climbing to the top, he made himself comfortable, looking westward. The highway next to them was littered with the debris of old world automobiles, the desert before him spread out for miles and miles.

As any soldier could probably tell you, guard duty is boring, and Arcades mind couldn't help but wander. He began to dwell on the colleagues he hadn't seen in a decade. One of the great things about the Followers was how they could accept nearly anyone in their ranks, regardless of past history or backgrounds. Skill and eagerness to learn were the apex qualities that the leadership desired. It was far from perfect (it helped create Mr. Sallow's career, after all) but it was precisely what he needed. Come to think of it, maybe taking Veronica farther away from her old family would do her some good. Giving her a home the Brotherhood couldn't raze would prob-*BANG*

Arcade fell back, tumbling down the pile and landing on his face. Seething in pain, he grasped the side of his shoulder. .22-caliber bullet, would have messed him up if it hit the right place.

"Are you alright?" a voice spoke close by.

"Peachy, suit. Where the hell did that come from?" winced Arcade. Hopefully, the Followers wouldn't mind the Stealth Suit being a little marked up when he made his way back to Dayglow. Hopefully, he wouldn't need his cargo on the return trip. What are you doing Arcade, you've just been shot, FOCUS, he screamed at himself.

Dragging his sore body to the side of the rock pile, he glanced out behind the pile to see three figures advancing on their position. Though it was dark, he could clearly see that one of them had a smoking rifle, and none of them looked friendly enough to pass it off as an accident. Dragging himself to his feet, he ran back to Veronica.

"Ver…Veronica, we're under attack!" he screamed, before realizing that someone had already beaten him to camp.

A raider, portly and surly, had already gotten to Veronica, training his energy rifle on the back of her head.

"Don't come any closer, or I turn the girl into vapor!" he screamed, wild-eyed like an animal. Arcade reluctantly surrendered, allowing the other three members of his group to catch up.

"OK Glover, so what now?" one of the thugs groused.

"How much stuff do you think these chumps are carrying?" Another one asked.

"J-just shut up! Look, just… just take the weapons and tie em up," the one they called Glover ordered.

"C'mon boss, couldn't we just waste these fools right here and now?" the raider with the rifle yawned. Glover promptly leveled his rifle towards the raider.

"What the hell, man? It was just a suggestion!" he whined.

The raiders promptly stripped Arcade of his pistol and Veronica of her power glove, and the one named Glover promptly grabbed some rope and thoroughly bound their hands and feet together. Glover then promptly ordered his men towards the rock pile, taking up positions around the obstruction.

"What the hell just happened," Veronica whispered, her face brushing against the dirt.

"I… I have no idea," Arcade confessed.

"If they were going to kill us, why the hell didn't they just put bullets in us before they robbed us? What's with the rope?" Veronica demanded to know.

"I told you, I have no clue," Arcade spat, allowing his annoyance to bubble to the surface.

"What the… OK, look, I'm sorry, but right now, I'm scared," Veronica admitted. Arcade, still beating himself up for allowing these clowns to get the jump on them, tried to comfort his younger friend.

"Look, I don't know what they're planning, but for some reason, they want us alive. Maybe its because…"

Veronica looked at her friend. "Because what?"

"It's just… it almost seems like they're using us as bait."

At the rock pile, the three raiders grumbled over the paranoia of their new boss. A few days ago, this guy came into their camp screaming about a demon, and the only reason they didn't waste him then and there was the fact that he had an energy weapon. Apparently, the guy was part of a larger group, but for reasons he never explained, the group separated from this "Glover's" group, and apparently he got them all killed. The only reason they decided to follow this asshole was because he promised them some cushy positions in New Reno if they helped him on a particular errand. As for the man himself, he was just trying to blend into the rocks, staring into the darkness.

"Veronica, I've got an idea. Take this rock, and try to cut through the ropes."

Veronica looked back at Arcade. "Are you crazy?" she asked.

"Veronica, if they wanted us dead, we'd be dead. We cut the bindings, and immediately we both make a break for it," Arcade offered.

"They've got snipers on us," hissed Veronica.

"Maybe we can weave through the cars by the highway," Arcade suggested.

Veronica sighed. "Look, just give me the damn rock."

Veronica made quick work of the binding on her hands, before passing the rock to Arcade. "Alright, so know I'll cut your leg bindings, and you do the same to me," Arcade ordered.

As they cut themselves out of their bindings, the snipers on the hilltop made no movement. "Alright, they haven't started shooting yet. Arcade, on three. One… Two… Three!" As Arcade and Veronica tried to get up, the night air was filled with a horrifying scraping noise.

Glover lay transfixed by the noise, as did the hired guns hiding with him. Together, all six people watched as a figure immerged from the darkness. A huge cloaked figure entered the line of sight, dragging something behind it. The bait was too shocked at what they were looking at to scream or run. The figure dragged the object right past the two coming within fifty yards of the rock pile. Almost immediately, the creature grasped the object and started to slowly swing it. As Glover watched mystified by what he was witnessing, one of his raiders found his tongue. "That's… that's a car," he spat out. Sure enough, the cloaked creature was indeed swinging the wreckage of a car around and around, building up speed. By the time the thought crossed his mind, the creature had released the car, causing it to hurtle directly towards the rock pile. The derelict, atomic vehicle exploded nearly on impact, causing rocks and bodies alike to go flying.

For a few seconds, Glover had blacked out. Agonizing pain woke him up, particularly around his knee. Trying to lift his broken neck upwards, he realized that there was a leg laying right next to him. His leg. As he sat in bewilderment at his predicament, two clawed fingers plucked the limb right next to him off the ground. Bringing it to its nose, the creature sniffed the leg, before dropping it down its gullet. The creature then took notice of Glover himself.

"Word of warning human; I don't want to be fed, I want to hunt," said the creature as he promptly picked up Glover, who could only shut his eyes and wait for the nightmare to end.

EXCERPT FROM SUN TZU'S ART OF WAR

"Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt."

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