Three chapters left for Aces & Eights. By this time next week, we'll have moved on. But, Six's adventure throughout the Mojave will continue. This chapter pretty much wrote itself. A little more conversation, a little less action. But, all in all, I like the way it turned out. Hopefully, you all will too. Cheers.

Elijah watched Veronica sitting before him. She was balled up, like she used to do when she was nervous or afraid. Back when Elijah had taken an interest in her. Young enough to mold into his own image. Broken enough at the loss of her parents to follow anyone who'd just be there for her. But what had started out as a ploy turned to genuine affection. He cared about her, even if it pained him to admit it. He had never had children of his own. Or, at least, none worth giving thought to. She was different. Motivated, jovial, and a little naïve. Elijah flipped a switch on his pip-boy – "I'm picking up collar 14 in the Tampico. The casino's theater. That will be your next target."

Before Six could respond, he flipped the switch again. Then turned his attention back to the young woman sitting in silence. She refused to let her eyes meet Elijah.

"If your friend succeeds, we can use the archives. You have to understand. Her surgery…it was a backup plan. Just in case the archives were corrupted. The technology here…it could change everything. We could wipe the slate clean. Eliminate the threat of the Republic…bring peace to the Mojave, to California. We could finally make them understand!" Elijah's voice was melancholic, yet firm. He reached out to the robed woman . "Veronica, we could begin anew."

She pulled away, tucking her legs beneath her chin. "You…I just don't get it. You knew how close Christine and I were. Why would you do this?"

"I did it for the Brotherhood. I had to…why don't you ask her about the Circle of Steel. Ask her about her mission. What she's doing at the Sierra Madre to begin with. Do you think it's a coincidence you ran into her here? No. A coincidence that you stumbled upon this place…but she's here for a reason. Those scars on her face. Do you think they came from the autodoc in the villa clinic? No. They're older. From Big Mountain. Where she attempted to assassinate me."

Veronica looked up through watery eyes. "No. She left the Brotherhood. After her parents decided we couldn't be together."

Elijah scoffed. "That's what she told you? Really? She never left. She just joined a more…exclusive group."

Veronica buried her face in her knees. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"To open your eyes. To make you understand. I'm not the bad guy here. I'm trying to save the Brotherhood. Don't you see? Her collar. Your collar. Removed…Veronica…I," the old man rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'd never hurt you. You're like a daughter to me. You know that, don't you?"

She didn't answer. Elijah took her silence to mean he was getting through. "There's a reason I chose you, Veronica. A reason I made you my protégée. Passed all of my values to you. I can't be around forever. I want you to be at my side when the new era arises. When the Brotherhood finds salvation and reclaims the wastes. I want you to be my right hand. And when the time comes, I want you to lead the Brotherhood to greater heights. Far greater than ever before. Don't you see? I'm doing this for the best. For the Brotherhood. For you."

"But at what price? We should be protecting the people of the wastes. Not dominating them."

"They need to be controlled! They need to be told what to do. It works better this way. All of the greatest empires...Roman, the Soviet Union, Chinese, the German empire. They were all dictated. People don't want freedom. Freedom demands responsibility. People cannot handle responsibility. They want someone to depend on. Someone to tell them what to do, and how to do it."

"Roman? You mean like the Legion?"

"No. The Legion consists of petty criminals and tribes banding together under the rule of a tyrant who can't see that he's driving them into the ground. He doesn't just subjugate his enemies. He terrorizes them. We wouldn't terrorize our citizens. We would provide for them. They would grow to depend on us. Our relationship would be…symbiotic."

Veronica sniffed. She looked up at the man – the man she had seen as a grandfather for so many years. She stared into the depths of his soul. He honestly believed that his solution was superior to Caesar's. That his idea of ruling the people was fundamentally different. He didn't understand that the help he referred to wasn't assistance at all. It was slavery. It was the flip side to the same coin. She looked into his eyes, and she drowned in his madness.

Elijah's pip-boy hissed to life. "Just entered the Tampico," rang Six's voice. "Anything I should expect?"

"The ghoul. He's setting up a trap for you. Be wary. And when you find him. Break him."

Boone sat up, tracing the stitching along his ribs.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Six asked.

"Fireworks…A hologram. The woman at the fountain…except on a stair case. Then nothing."

"We took a bit of a shock. Casino defenses," Six explained. "Lucked out, finding this autodoc. Not sure you'd made it otherwise."

Boone struggled to stand. He was still pale – and dizzy.

"Whoa. Lost a lot of blood." Six trifled through a nearby locker – exhuming a roll of surgical tubing, a needle, and a couple bags of blood. "O negative…that's universal right?"

Boone nodded. Six set up the materials and guided the needle into a vein.

"Where'd you learn to do this?"

Six nodded towards a book lying on the autodoc – "DC Journal Of Internal Medicine. Couldn't understand a lot of it. But it had diagrams that were easy enough to follow."

The pip-boy crackled for the briefest of moments. "I'm picking up collar 14 in the Tampico. The casino's theater. That will be your next target." It fell silent.

"Well, what's next?"

"Next? I'm headed to the theater. You're staying here."

"Like hell," Boone attempted to stand. A strong arm grasped his shoulder.

"Sit down," a graveling voice commanded. It was God. He turned to Six. "A few ghost people made it into the Casino. I don't know how they got in. The door's firmly locked. Luckily they were the smaller ones. Probably crawled in through the ventilation. I've taken care of it."

"Good. Got word from the old man. Dean's in the Tampico. He wants us to retrieve him."

"I'm done playing fetch for that arrogant fool."

"Boone's in no shape to give me back-up. He's safe here. Holograms reactivated in the hall. The ghost people won't come in here. But I could use a hand."

The nightkin sighed – though it sounded more like a growl. "Very well."

The elevator doors to the Tampico opened with an electronic ding. Six stepped out and observed the area around him. A greeting desk sat idly before them – to his right the room conjoined with a horizontal hall. Six spoke: "Just entered the Tampico. Anything I should expect?"

"The ghoul. He's setting up a trap for you. Be wary. And when you find him. Break him."

"How do you know he's setting up a trap?"

Silence.

"Elijah?" Six tapped on his pip-boy. "Elijah?" He repeated, a little more loudly. He drew a long breath. "…Let's get this over with."

Six took a step forward, God grasped his arm. "No. Elijah has never seen any of you."

"Yeah?"

"How'd he know Dean was a ghoul?" The nightkin asked bewilderedly.

Six raised a brow.

"Best we proceed with caution," God spoke quietly.

The theater was loaded with speakers – at every step Six's collar began to beep. He scanned the walls. "They're the shielded kind."

"That means there's a terminal to access them nearby. Given we're in a theater…it's likely back stage."

The sound of clapping resonated in the room. "Brilliantly deduced. Your master must be enthralled."

God growled under his breath.

"Dean. The collars are interfering with the sound archives. We need to regroup, get to Elijah."

"Oh, I'll be meeting with Elijah soon enough."

"…So that's it then. You've stabbed us in the back? Betrayed us? For the treasure."

"And so, greed has its day," God sneered.

"I'm not stabbing you in the back, you insufferable nosebleeds. I've been facing you the entire time. Who do you think was behind this heist? I planned it lifetimes ago. You and that old man? That tight little piece of ass that's partial to hand signals? Nothing more than tourists. Right place, right time."

"That's why you weren't knocked unconscious with the rest of us."

"Finally piecing together the act. Better late than never. No, I was knocked unconscious like the rest of you. I was just…retrieved before you showed up. I was halfway off the rooftop and through the service tunnel by the time the light show started. Before Vera finished her speech. I made a bee-line for the gates before the streets flooded with ghosts. Looks like I got the royal treatment after all…"

"Listen to me Dean…Elijah has no intention of cutting you in on the vault's contents."

"Please. Without me, the buzzard would have never figured out how to open the casino."

"Think about it Dean. If he had intentions of working with you, why would he send you down here with your collar on?"

Dean's smile faded. "I had to leave it on, to keep up an image."

"But you didn't even attempt to keep up the image. You came straight out with it as soon as we got here. And if it was all about image…why didn't he just let you wear a deactivated collar?"

Now Dean's face was grave. "Do you have any idea what I put into this heist? It's the biggest heist in history! Two hundred years in the making! I had all but given up. Then the old man showed up…you showed up…and the mute did. She wasn't mute then. But I subdued her…trapped her in the clinic autodoc. When her throat heals up, she'll have a lovely singing voice. Although she won't recognize it as her own."

"What do you mean?"

Dean grimaced. "You'll see soon enough…or you won't."

"Well," God growled. "How about you come down here? So I can see what your insides look like spread out all over the stage?"

Dean took a step back, nervous grin on his face. "No. No I'm not leaving this spot. I've got no interest in fighting you. Why should I? When the Sierra Madre will kill you for me…" He disappeared briefly through a door behind him. Six could faintly hear the sound of keys. When he emerged, he toted a steel folding chair. "I think I'll just grab a seat…see how this plays out from up here."

"What did you just do?" God asked through gritted teeth.

"Oh, just hired on some new security. They'll be here soon enough."

"…Are you stupid? The security will target you too."

"No. No it won't. You see, the casino recognizes me as a guest. You…on the other hand…"

A streak of red lightning shot by Dean, causing a tremendous crash from the stairwell behind him. Sparks flew from within.

"What the hell!" Dean yelled, ducking into the doorframe.

The holograms were frenzied – attacking the group.

The speakers crackled. "Did you think I was going to let you waltz into the vault? To steal from me? The Sierra Madre is mine!"

"Damn fool! I planned this! I earned it! I made it all happen! Not you!"

"And I thank you for your cooperation," Elijah's voice boomed.

"You kill me, I still win! Do you hear me? I still win! You'll never get into the vault without me!"

"Oh I think I can manage." A click, then silence.

Six and God ducked behind the bar. "What now?"

"Now, we go backstage," God snarled. He stood and bolted for the door. The holograms turned their full attention to him, firing in controlled bursts. He approached the door miraculously fast for someone so large. With one heavy kick, he knocked the door off its hinges. Six followed him. In the backstage hallway, their collars immediately began to beep. Six fumbled with his pip-boy. The sound of the counter-frequency filled the air. The collars stopped beeping and began emitting static.

"This buys us a couple minutes. We need to find the sound control."

They split up, going from room to room. Six stormed into the first dressing room he came to – mostly empty, save a lone radio. Six withdrew lucky and planted two rounds into it. He heard two more explosions, as God eliminated speakers elsewhere. He continued down the hall – then he found it.

He turned the system on – and it booted up without conflict. He scrolled through the options.

"Found it!"

He clicked a key, and the static faded. He turned to the door leading to the stage. "It's locked…Maybe I can pi…"

The door flew open, spinning into darkness. God's foot hit the ground with a dull thud. "Please, allow me."

Dean stood before them – pistol in hand.

"Well, we've really gotten ourselves in a predicament, haven't we? So maybe you and I should have a little chat – just like we did when you first waltzed into town."

"I think the time for talk is done."

"You kill me, you kill us all," Dean said, taking a step back.

"Except it won't," Six told him, following him into the dark room. "And you already know that. Else you wouldn't have activated the security holograms. The lining of this place…it interferes with the collars. Gives a delay between the explosion. You might get a shot off…but I don't think you're in any shape to take on him." Six motioned to God.

Dean grasped his arm. Even in the dark, Six could see the blood. "Do you see now? Elijah used you. Like he used the rest of us. But I don't want what's in the vault. I want to get this bomb collar off my neck. I want to go home."

"Home? Into the wastes? What's out there? Death. Famine. Radioactive disease. There's nothing worth going back to. The only thing left is the Sierra Madre."

"That's where you're wrong. New Vegas stands still. Bright casino lights. Gambling. Women."

Dean's demeanor changed. "Vegas survived...that is interesting..."

"You're holding on to some ill-gotten dream. Let it go Dean. What are you trying to prove?"

"Prove? Haven't you been listening? I'm no idiot…I know how to get into the casino vault. There's a private elevator in Sinclair's executive suite. Vera's suite. It's no coincidence. Vera was my partner before the bomb. I had her weasel her way into Sinclair's heart. He was already puppy-eyed…so all I had to do was make introductions. She smiled, fluttered her eyes…showed him a little leg. And he made this place…for her he said. But I knew it wasn't about her. It was about being better than me. Look around you. This colossal monument. Do you really think it was for some woman? No. It was his ego. The obstinate, self-righteous…I had to bring him down a few pegs. To my level. Begin again…." Dean scowled. "Some things you don't get up from…and I aim to prove it."

"Prove it to who? Sinclair is either dead or he's one of those damnable creatures outside."

Dean's face sunk at the prospect.

"You've been holding on to a dream that died when the bombs fell. Let it go."

Dean was silent.

"Dean."

Still nothing.

"Dean!" Six grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. His gun fell to the floor. "We need to get out of here."

"What? Oh…yeah, right."

"So turn the holograms back off."

"Can't," Dean motioned to the terminal at top of the stairs. "Damn things fried the system."

"There's got to be another way. I saw an exit near the first dressing room…"

"No, it's filled with toxins from the vents. We go in there and we'll be on Cloud Nine in caskets." Dean's face was vacant. "But…uh…um. Yeah…so security's here because the show hasn't started. Guests aren't allowed in. So…we start the show."

"You're going to get out there and sing for them?" God ask, slightly amused.

"No. When Sinclair was setting this all up, we had rehearsals. And he'd record us…holographically. So we could critique our own performances. When we queued the recordings up…the security disappeared. It was replaced with a nice, calm holographic audience."

"So how do we start up the recording?"

"Ah…Vera used to watch the performances from the projection booth. She may have a key…"

"Okay. You two stay here…I'll pick the lock to her room…"

"No need," Dean reached into his pocket and tossed Six a key.

"You have a key to her room."

"Uh…yeah."

"Why?"

"Do I really need to spell it out? I've seen the way you look at the mute. You and I…we're cut of the same cloth. Time's wasting…those holograms aren't going to get tired and go home. So head up to the projection booth…play the score. Might reset the security."

Six disappeared around the corner.

"I'm really starting to hate the security here…"

"You're preaching to the choir, doggy. Those electric ghosts aren't the kind of audience I like even at the best of times…at least the ones in the villa had manners." Dean quipped.

Six paused momentarily to observe the holograms' patrol patterns. Then, he bolted. Around the corner, up the stairs and into a locked door. He fumbled with the key. He peered over his shoulder to see the glow of the hologram as it made its way up the stairs behind him. The key slipped in. He threw the door open and rushed the projector. It whirred to life – casting a holographic Dean Domino onto the stage.

When an irresistible force such as you, meets an old immovable object like me…you can bet as sure as you live…
something's gotta give, something's gotta give, something's gotta give

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Until next time.