The three captives were forced into the small theater inside the King's School of Impersonation by their captors. Inside the theater, tables and chairs were set up in front of the stage, where a single man was practicing his Elvis impersonation. The tables and chairs were set up for people to watch the show, laughing and talking as someone performed their act, but they were all empty except for one where a man, who wore a white blazer and looked bored out of his mind, was sitting. Colt, Boone, and Veronica were walked over to the man in the white blazer. Colt was forced to sit in the chair across from him while Boone and Veronica stood beside Colt.
"Here they are, sir," the leader of the thugs, who captured the three, said proudly.
"What do you want? A cookie? Get out of here," the man in the blazer said to his five lackeys. The men just looked at each other, shrugged, and walked away; leaving the man in the blazer with the group of travelers he ordered to be captured. "I suppose you know who I am?" The man asked as he looked at the three people in front of him. The man's impersonation of Elvis was spectacular. Colt, almost, couldn't tell the difference from the impersonator and the man it was based off of.
"I'm guessing… the King, right?" Colt asked, sarcastically.
"You're absolutely right," the King confirmed with a smile.
"Oh," Colt said, clapping his hands with false delight and a sense of sarcasm, "Do I get a prize?"
The King smiled once more, "And I'm guessing, by your smart mouth, you're the leader of this expedition into my home town, right?"
"Yeah, so what? You want a cookie or something?"
The King just laughed softly, "I like you; you're funny. Maybe I should have you up on that stage instead of the jackass who's up there now." The man on the stage looked at the King, frustration on his face, and stormed off like a melodramatic prom queen. "But, seriously," the King continued, completely ignoring the frustrated man that was leaving the theater, "What are your names and I want to know why are you're here?"
"Well," Colt began, trying to sound as innocent as possible with the lie he was making up, "We're tourists. Heard Vegas was really nice this time of year, so, we decided to visit. I'm Alberto," Colt gestured to himself, "This is Frank," he gestured to Boone, "And this is Yolanda," he gestured to Veronica.
"Hard-fucking-har," the King said, sounding a bit annoyed now, "Listen, son, you're attitude is really starting to piss me off. That's not even to mention how pissed off I was when I found out your were harassing the citizens. Now, tell me who you really are and what you're really doing here or else an accident might just happen."
Colt just sighed and realized he should stop before something bad happens; his mouth always got him into trouble. He finally answered the King's question truthfully, "Our names are Colt, Boone, and Veronica and, as for why we're here, we're looking for someone that has something very valuable to me."
"Uh huh," the King grunted with doubt in his words, "And, to find this person, you had to harm that poor man?"
"Well, King, can I call you King?" Colt asked as he took out his lighter and cigarettes. The King answered his question with a small nod. "Good, okay, King, I want to ask you a question," Colt said, as he removed a cigarette from the pack and lit it in his mouth, puffing out plums of smoke, "How would you feel if you came to this wonderful city, a city you've never been to before, and someone tries to steal a precious family heirloom?"
"I guess I wouldn't take that too kindly," the King answered, scratching his chin, "Why? Is that what he was doing?"
"Yes, sir. He was trying to steal my precious revolver here."
"Alright, I understand where you're coming from," the King said, leaning back in his chair, "But, was it necessary to nearly break his arm?"
"I guess I did kind of overreact to him trying to take my revolver. It's just been a long couple of days."
"Oh, yeah? How long?"
"Well," Colt began to twirl the cigarette around in his fingers, "I was shot, a friend of mine was kidnapped, and now I'm on a wild goose chase to find the kidnappers; a gang called the 'Stallions'."
"Woah, woah," the King interrupted Colt, holding up his hand," Did you say the 'Stallions'."
"Yeah, why?" Colt placed the cigarette back in his mouth and let it hang there, lazily, inhaling tobacco and nicotine.
"Because, those sons of bitches came through here not too long ago."
"What?" Colt yelled, causing him to swallow a large amount of black smoke from the cigarette. He dropped the cigarette on the table and began to violently cough as the smoke overtook his lungs.
"Woah, are you okay? You need some water?"
"No," Colt declined as he continued to cough, "What I need is for you to repeat that."
"Repeat what?"
"What you just said," Colt said, clearing his throat, done with the coughing fit, "Did you say that they just came through here?"
"Who, the Stallions? Yeah, they came through here. They killed two locals too, beating them to death with the stocks of their rifles. They did it to get back at me for declining their leader's offer, the bastards. Would've had my boys teach 'em a lesson, but there were too many of them; ten or fifteen, if I remember correctly. After they were done beating those poor people, the Stallions up and left for the Strip."
"Did they say why or where they were going?"
"They didn't say where they were going, but Aleksander said why they were here. He talked about calling in 'outstanding debts' on some of the families around Vegas. He tried to shake me down, saying I owe him," the King scoffed, "I told him I don't owe him anything and that him and his fruit loop troop need to leave. So, they did."
"Do you know any other families he might visit?"
"Don't know, he didn't say. But he did make a beeline for the Strip, so, I would try some of the Strip Families. The Omertas, The Chairmen, The White Glove Society, they all might know something."
Colt leaned back, amazed at this influx of information. So, he decided to delve even further so that he can get to know more about the gang he was hunting, "How much do you know about the gang?"
The King, too, leaned back in his chair, "Now, that's the thing; I don't know too much about them and I haven't known them that long."
"Can you give me any information that you do know?"
The King sat, thinking for a minute, but then nodded, "Alright, I guess I can forgive you of your crimes against Freeside if you're so eager to track down these murderous bastards. I'll tell you what I know; the Stallions is run by this guy named 'Aleksander Lebedev'. Now, Aleksander, apparently, used to be the helpful sort. He and his gang used to help a lot of people out. That is, until a few years ago. Now, for some strange reason, Aleksander saw the NCR as a threat, declared them an enemy, and had his gang attack any troopers and civilians on sight. Naturally, this led to some small war between them and the result was the Stallions running in terror.
After that, he fled here, to the Mojave. Something big happened here to the Stallions; people said it was the final straw for Aleksander and he changed. Now, he only wants to hurt people and cause them pain and his targets are usually anyone who has any affiliation with the NCR. He made that clear a couple years ago when him and his gang destroyed some big ranch in the NCR," Colt's heart tugged at the mention of his ranch as, apparently, the first target on the Stallions' hit list, "He's been on a rampage ever since and he's really pissed off the NCR. I guess Aleksander realized he needs help if he wants to fight the bear. It would explain why he's trying to cash in these imaginary 'outstanding debts'."
"That's all you know?"
"That's all I know and if I had to take a guess at where he went to next, it would be the Strip. He was heading that direction."
"I have one more question… did you see anyone in his gang carrying a dark burlap sack?" Colt held Cass' pendant in hand; it was warm against his touch and it helped soothe and calm him as he awaited the answer from the King.
"Come to think of it, yeah, I did see a dark sack. It was being carried by some guy with a bandage around his hand. I asked about it, they just said it was supplies or something. I got real suspicious, though; it was shaped almost like a person. But, I just shook it off."
Colt's heart was lifted as he heard that Cass with them. That means she couldn't be too far away and that he still had a chance to save her. But, then, his he was filled with anger and frustation to hear that Ivan had her. Colt cooled himself off and stood.
"You've been real helpful in helping me find these guys."
"Hey, no problem. Just as long as you weren't here to harm any Freeside locals, we'll be fine… you aren't here to harm the locals, are you?"
"Absolutely not, Mister King. I'm," Colt turned back to Veronica and Boone and then turned back to the King, "In mean, we're here to find this 'Aleksander', his gang, and someone they have with them."
"Good. Well, I hope you find the slimy bastards," the King said as he extended a hand, "It was nice meeting you."
Colt shook the King's hand, "It was nice meeting you too." Colt placed the lighter and pack of cigarettes back into the pouch, "Oh, and do you mind helping us get into the Strip? Low on funds."
"Sure, just as long as you promise me on thing," the Kings said, reaching into his blazer and pulling out three Strip passports.
Colt took the passports, "And what's that?" He asked, handing one of the passports to Boone, one to Veronica, and keeping the other for himself.
"I want you to promise me that Aleksander will suffer. He'll suffer when he gets to Hell, but I believe he should be served an appetizer before the main course. He deserves nothing less than to suffer for causing so much pain to others."
"Now that, I can promise," Colt said with a devilish grin. He motioned for Veronica and Boone to follow and they departed from the King, leaving him alone in the theater. The exited the School of Impersonation and onto the streets of Freeside where the sun was beginning to set on the crest of the horizon.
"Well, that was a delightful conversation," Veronica commented while stretching, "Where to next?"
"Next, we pay William Hans a visit and see if he knows just who goes in and out of the Strip,' Colt answered.
As they walked to the Strip, Colt couldn't help but wonder about Aleksander. He used to be helpful and now he's on a rampage after he 'changed'. If he was as good as the King said he was, what happened in the NCR and in the Mojave to change him so drastically. What could've happened to change a man like that?