Arcade pulled the duct tape tight around his body – he could not imagine a worse scenario than a few bricks of c4 falling out from under his coat in front of the Praetorians. As he bit through the last piece of tape Arcade hesitated before flattening it. He did not need to kill himself, surely there were other ways.
He could sneak a gun in – too risky Washington said, misfire, bad aim, Caesar's reflexes could spell disaster for the plan. Leaving the bomb in the room and then leaving – signal range on the detonator was too low for Arcade to get to any safe distance and it would probably be found by Lucius if left for too long. Any option that didn't kill all witnesses would result in a slow demise at the hands of the Legion's torturers for Arcade. So here he was ready-ish to kill himself for a cause that he would have rather ignored. Time to make up for saving the bastard's life, Washington had said. Sighing, the doctor zipped up his coat and flattened it as to make the bomb less evident. Enough explosives to take out the entire floor and ensure the enslaving bastard didn't survive another day.
Arcade straightened his shirt, smoothed out the wrinkles in his trousers and flicked the dirt from his shoes. If he was going to go up in a great ball of flame he sure as hell wasn't going to be looking tardy as he did it. Appearances were paramount – that was one of the things Sandy and Gannon had always agreed. For Arcade it to appear to be professional and clean – in a wasteland full of junkies, murders, slavers, rapists and junkie murderer enslaving rapists fucks like the Fiends it helped the patients to have someone who wasn't as fucked as them. An anchor so to speak. For Sandy it was darker – a man needs an image he said. Something for people to associate with their fear and hatred – no wonder he loved the wolf mask so much.
"There you go: very prim and proper." Arcade said to the mirror. "Perfectly dressed to kill a King."
The walk to Caesar's room seemed longer than usual in Arcade's mind, every step felt as if he had to wade through water. Every man of the Legion he passed seemed to scrutinise him. They know, a small part of him said. They know and they're going to crucify you, scratch that they're going to make what happened to the Van Graff's look like a mercy. One guard seemed to stare at him every second he was in the man's line of sight.
"Dressed for a funeral." He was sure he heard one man comment as he walked past. Ignore it The more rational part of his brain said. You're just being paranoid, there's no way any of them could know. You haven't told anyone and neither would Washington. This thought managed to calm him until he saw Vulpes step through the stairwell doors. Oh shit they know, they captured Washington or one of his men and they gave you up. Now you're going to die horribly…and slowly…and probably in a weird way, the Legion torturers are some crazy fucks who can think up ways to kill you that hadn't even occurred to your average wasteland psycho. But as he drew closer to Caesar's door and no-one leapt from the shadows to drag him to the floor it began to dawn on Arcade that he just might be able to do this. Here goes nothing.
Vulpes Inculta rubbed his temple as he stared down at the body – Gabban, one of his one Frumentarius, stabbed in the chest and stomach almost two dozen times before having his throat slit and hastily dumped in an empty building in Freeside. A slave had seen men carrying something into the building in the night and had reported it to his overseer and after noticing the uniform the overseer had sent a runner to Vulpes. This was the fourteenth death that they knew of. Fourteen Centurions, Decanii and Frumentarii all dead in a week, stabbed multiple times and cut throats. The victims' weapons were all in still their sheaths and none seemed to have any defensive wounds. A group then most likely, Vulpes concluded, two or more would hold the victim's arms still whilst the others stabbed the victim.
"Sextus." Vulpes called to his aide. "Take a squad and question every slave, freeman and Legionary from the Frumentarii barracks to here. Somebody must have seen something." The man saluted and went out the door. Vulpes crouched down by the body and closed the eyes. Gabban had been a good loyal man who had never failed an order. Why kill him? And why the others? If it was one group committing all the murders.
Slave rebellion? No, only officers had been targeted and the killings seemed too random, the men were from a number of different cohorts, several of whom had not been anywhere near the slave quarter in their assignments. The killings were all far too similar for it to be a series of unconnected murders in Vulpes' mind. What then? NCR. Unlikely, they would not waste their time and risk discovery on killing Decanii. Anyway Vulpes was confident that all the spies had been caught. The NCR Intelligence captain had been found and broken by the torturers and given up the names of most his informants week ago. Vulpes left the building and gave orders for the body to disposed of respectfully.
As he made his way back to the Frumentarii barracks the evidence floated around in Inculta's head as he considered the possibilities until one possibility struck him like a blow. Treason. Someone was purging the Legion of opponents. Who then? The Legates made no secret of their dislike of each other – now that each one was safe among a host of loyal men were they striking out supporters of the other. Was it one faction acting against the other or was this a series of reprisal killings? Or was it a third faction Vulpes had not considered. He would need to bring up the matter when next they met. Vulpes got back to his barracks and went through his daily routines as he waited for Sextus to return with any news.
He did his morning exercise, stretches, a jog around the barracks and a spar with two of his Frumentarii before retiring to his office and reading through his reports. The latest runner from Lanius' host had reported that after days of forced marches they had made contact with the 80's. A two week journey covered in six days – Lanius' typical rage being focused upon a new enemy and with any other army the troops would be too tired to fight but not the Legion, this was what they trained for. Though it was proving to be for nothing, the 80's gave almost no resistance – melting away before the wrath of the Legion and only fighting when cornered.
Cato on the other hand was showing uncharacteristic restraint. His troop had taken their time in the march south, stopping to deal with a Powder Ganger infestation in the west of the Mojave before wiping up the remains of the Fiends and other raiders in the south before swinging round and advancing on Novac, where Vulpes' man was now reporting they had the rebels cornered and awaiting a swift end. Good news from other sectors too, Hsu was now General Hsu and official commander of all NCR forces in the Eastern Theatre, depleted as they were. Any surviving officers from the campaign had been given medals and a promotions – the NCR always tried to bring some semblance of victory to defeat – a fortunate tactic which now meant Frumentarius Picus was now Major "Curtis" and Hsu's second in command due to his bravery in the fighting retreat from Camp McCarran. Picus estimated that if given the chance to win more glory and fame in the eyes of the NCR he could easily take the place of Hsu if the General were to meet his maker.
"Sir." Vulpes looked up from his letters to the Legionary who now stood in his office.
"What is it?" The Frumentarius demanded curtly, disliking being interrupted when reading.
"Caesar requests your presence immediately." Vulpes waved the man away and climbed out of his chair, whatever it was it could only be important.
"So what do you think?" Caesar asked, gesturing to the map on the table.
"There's a lot of red." Arcade muttered back. Caesar sighed and moved to the map.
"That's all you can say?" The frustration evident in his voice. "This is the most detailed map we know exists – every town, village, city, road, army camp, natural landmark in explored territory. And all you can comment is that there is a lot of red?"
"Well there is." Arcade snapped back. "The Legion own a lot of territory it seems."
"We do." Caesar admitted, the pride evident on his face. "Is something wrong Arcade? You don't seem to be on top form." Arcade tried to look calm, not letting his almost rampant fear onto his face.
"Just a bug I think, should be fine in a couple of days." The lie came easy enough to Arcade and Caesar seemed to accept it, though Lucius eyed him with the same suspicious look as always.
"Good, can't have my doctor getting sick, it would be unseemly." Caesar commented as he moved, as he always did, for the chess set. Arcade itched towards the trigger in his pocket – when to do it? The question plagued him as soon as he entered the room. He had thought to do it as soon as he entered the room but his body disagreed and he could not bring himself to press the button. Strangely enough there was a small part of him that wanted to wait until he could think of a good one-liner to go out to. Not that anyone would be alive to talk about it later but it was the thought that counted.
"You asked for me?" The familiar voice of Vulpes Inculta asked from the door as he strode into the room. Caesar turned, the chess set in hand.
"When?" He demanded.
"I was informed you needed me urgently." Vulpes said, nonplussed. Caesar's trademark frown returned and Lucius' brows seemed to be clashing together.
"By who?" sweat began to fall down Arcade's face, he would likely not get an opportunity better than this – Caesar, Lucius and Vulpes all in one go.
"A Legionary, his face was covered." Vulpes was looking worried now as his mind no doubt tried to deduce what possible motive there could be for the deception. Caesar looked as if he was soon to go into one of his all too common rants at someone as Lucius' eyes fixed on Arcade.
"Nervous?" He barked the question, taking a step towards the Doctor. Arcade did not reply, instead his hand circled around the trigger, his thumb over the button. Lucius began to stride across the room.
"Slave!" He growled beginning to reach out. Arcade pulled the trigger out and held it above his head, Let the fuckers see who killed them
"Fuck you!" He spat defiantly, all witty one-liners vacant from his mind. Lucius leapt the last few paces between them as Arcade pressed down and flame engulfed the room.
Hope you enjoyed, things will be coming to a head soon and a few of you may have already guessed what's going to happen.
Once more if you enjoyed it then review/follow/favourite it if you want. If you hated it then just leave a review telling me what an untalented arse i am.