CHAPTER 12: Floating on a River
The dry Mojave sands seemed even dryer to Head Paladin Edgar Hardin as he stared down at a softly weeping Veronica. She sat against the rock face with her knees to her chest, having wrapped her trembling arms around them to steady her shaking.
Paladin Ramos knelt down before her, speaking softly to her as she answered with short "uh huh's" and "no's". She nodded every so often, not trusting her quivery voice.
Around the gulch which Kazdin had successfully cleared stood twenty fully armed Paladins, eyes wary and scanning for any other potential threats. Their power armor gleamed in the noon day sun, their lasers primed and hot.
Hardin doubted that any NCR would show their face right away. They had come and attacked a fledgling Paladin and a scribe, and here and now, the scribe was present but the Paladin had vanished mysteriously.
Not so mysteriously, actually. Hardin grunted within his mind.
It was clear that whoever had taken Kazdin's body had only tranquilized them. Veronica had awoken, somewhat in a haze, and it seemed to Hardin that whoever had knocked Veronica unconscious likely would not have used a more potent bullet to kill Kazdin. According to Veronica the second shot came only seconds after the first. This gave the Head Paladin hope that Kazdin was alive.
Veronica sniffled before Ramos and reached for her canteen and proceeded to down a couple of shots. She coughed a few times as she took her mouth away from the lip of the bottle. Ramos patted her back roughly a few times.
"Easy now. Killing yourself won't make our task any easier." Ramos said with a wry smile which was not returned.
"Do we even know who did this?" Veronica asked. Ramos looked to Hardin and he nodded.
"My belief is that NCR did this. Or one of their bounty hunters. Possibly one well versed in sniping." Hardin replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Are we positive?" Veronica asked, looking to Hardin.
"It seems like a safe bet. From what you have told us already, Kazdin has only one enemy. Well two, counting the Legion, but they don't normally take prisoners." Hardin said.
"She was attractive enough to be taken prisoner." Veronica tried. Hardin gave a half smile.
"So are you, Veronica." Ramos said with a smile and a twinkle. Veronica punched him in the shoulder and he could feel it somehow even through his massive shoulder guard.
"Yet here I am." She said.
"Okay, so not Legion. If the NCR have her, then what can we do about that? They've got to have like fifty bases around here." Veronica said, exasperated.
"Not necessarily." Came the voice of Ranger Stella. She had been leaning against the rock face adjacent Veronica, her powerful arms crossed over her breast. She wore a look of grim anger and had stayed silent until now.
"Come again?" Ramos wondered and approached the stoic woman.
"We can narrow that number down. There are really only a few settlements that we would have taken a high profile captive." Stella said evenly.
"Where do you think they took her?" Veronica asked, rising from the hard ground and approaching the ex Ranger.
Stella looked to the sky and adjusted her cowboy hat in thought.
"They would not have taken her to any of the camps. Too small, too easy for a smart woman like Kazdin to escape. Even Forlorn Hope is out. It's on the front lines and very well guarded, but the fact that they have to spend all of their resources watching Caesar's Legion means that their attention would be divided."
"You pronounced it Kai-sar. I thought you Republic types pronounced in See-sar." Veronica wondered aloud. Stella glared at her.
"Former Republic type right here. And I pronounce it right because I'm not a fucking idiot." Stella said evenly. Veronica nodded and crossed her arms.
"It's alright. I'm sure you just didn't know." Stella relented finally. She was a hard edged woman, but she had compassion still. Even if it was delivered in extremely small doses. She knew that she had taken the innocent quip seriously though and she should not have. When she was wrong she was wrong. Stella shook her head and continued.
"We can narrow it down from the camps and the front lines and the places where a high profile captive would be out of place. Helios One, Primm, Mojave Outpost all fit this bill. So we have to look at the major military bases." Stella said. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she contemplated.
"Camp Golf is a no. That is where they send all of the fuck ups and losers. I wouldn't want a platoon of worthless idiots guarding a Kazdin Willow. The big two around here would be Camp McCarran and Hoover Dam." Stella said finally.
"I would not hit the Dam with anything less than a fucking army. Maybe some artillery for good measure. Maybe a small task force could blend in, but this place is the main base for the brass, including General Oliver and Colonel Moore. I'd be more than happy to shove a boot up the bitch's ass, but I don't have a fucking death wish either." Stella said.
"We can hope she is in McCarran then. Easy enough for a full scale assault." Ramos said with a shrug.
"Wish in one and piss in the other." Stella quipped.
"No, it's a good thought. But if it were me keeping Kazdin captive, I would want her in a place with the best defenses, an army guarding the front and back doors and two of the top brass located in one place." Stella said.
"Wouldn't that be a risk?" Veronica asked.
"Not as much as you might think. Oliver is a buffoon who was chosen because he's the President's toady, but he has had some of the best training the NCR can offer. Really only Moore is his equal. They are among the top when it comes to self defense. Running an army is a different story. I know Moore wants his job, and honestly if she was the general I would be pissing my pants. But she isn't. Kimball won't likely give up his chief ass kisser for a hard boiled ice queen."
"Okay, so not a risk. Tactically speaking the Dam would be the best place to hold a prisoner. Water on two sides, the Legion on one end and an army guarding the only way out." Hardin said. Stella nodded with a smile.
"So it's hopeless?" Veronica asked softly.
"It's never hopeless. But it will be hard to find the resources necessary to assault the Dam. Espionage is out of the question. The army at the Dam is well briefed on every level of soldier, citizen or engineer stationed in all of the Mojave." Stella reasoned. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the warm stone.
"Do they know everyone out of town?" Hardin asked.
"That's more of a stretch. I would say they know everyone important in the surrounding states, but that's not to say they know everyone unimportant." Stella said.
"So we can't pose as soldiers or politicos. What about engineers? We send one of our best engineers into the Dam to report to Colonel Moore and he somehow finds the brig and helps her escape?" Ramos said. Stella contemplated the fledgling plan.
"Helping her escape would be suicide. There is not one latrine cleaner on base that doesn't know Kazdin's face. Maybe our engineer slips something to Kazdin." Stella thought aloud.
"Then she uses that something and busts loose from her prison." Ramos offered.
"Our spy will need to leave a weapon hidden somewhere with ammo or Kaz won't make it very far." Veronica chimed in. Stella nodded.
"And along with that we will need a diversion and a large one. Attack the base from the front and divide their attention. Then Kaz breaks out and fights her way clear and escapes by climbing the rock face." Stella said, the plan forming within her mind.
"Better yet, she uses a disguise. Disguises herself as a low ranking soldier and slips out the front door." Hardin reasoned. Stella thought for a moment and nodded her head.
"That sounds good." She nodded in the affirmative.
"We will make it work. Or die trying." Hardin said. He then let a sharp whistle and commanded his Paladins to follow him back to the bunker. When they were alone Veronica shyly approached Stella who was just raising her pack onto her shoulder. She looked down at the diminutive scribe, who had a smile on her face. Stella noted that it was the first time Veronica had smiled in hours. She felt an inward tingle.
Doing good has its merits. Sure feels good. Stella thought.
"Thank you." Veronica said, reaching out her hand and grasping the muscular woman's shoulder through her leather armor. Stella let a slow grin cross her face.
"You're a good woman. You're welcome, Veronica." Stella said. She nodded toward the bunker.
"Come on. Let's go plan a jail break."
Kazdin felt she was floating. It was oddly peaceful seeing nothing but feeling her body floating, as if on a river. Every now and then she felt a bump, a shudder before returning back to that peaceful floating.
She heard a voice. No, two voices. They were discussing her. She felt surreal as her vision returned to her. Not the sharp clarity that she was used to, but more of a fuzzy dimness as if she were wearing goggles that had sand caked around the edges.
Kazdin saw burlap as she rolled her blue eyes around. The hot air felt close, but she realized she could breath, if not easily. She tentatively and slowly tested the plastic zip ties holding her small fists together in front of her. Bonded securely.
She guessed she was lying on her back upon a mobile bed, perhaps a hospital bed and she was being led somewhere. She picked up the words 'NCR' and 'Hoover Dam' and she needed to hear no more.
One of her two captors heard her gasp of surprise. The burlap bag was ripped from Kazdin's head and she cringed as she brought up her arms to cover her suddenly sensitive eyes.
"Well, look who's awake. Good, I'm tired of pushing this damn cart." A young man wearing spiked metal armor said with a boyish grin. He had shaggy shoulder length brown hair and dark eyes, a light brown goatee covered his chin. He was quite handsome, if he were not her captor.
"Hmm. I've had worse captors I'm sure." Kaz said with an easy smile. She was telling the truth.
The young man looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
"So, to whom do I owe the thanks of escorting me around the desert?" Kaz wondered aloud, sitting up.
"Name's Little Buster babe. Professional bounty hunter." He said tilting an invisible hat.
"Why do they call you Little Buster?" Kazdin asked. The man chuckled.
"'Cuz dynamite comes in small packages." He said smugly. She had to suppress a laugh. He didn't exactly have a way with words, but if her ploy was to work then she would have to appeal to his ego and that would mean not bursting out laughing at every ridiculous pun he had in him.
"Well I can see that. You did capture the famous Kazdin Willow, after all." Kaz said.
"Yea, I hear you're dangerous girl." Buster said, regarding her. He raised an ugly looking metal gauntlet sporting three long razor sharp blades.
"But if you decide you want to fight back, I'll gut you. Nothing personal." Buster said. Kazdin's smile left her lips.
"I like dangerous men." She quipped. She looked to a plain clothes NCR soldier. Most likely lent to Little Buster by the brass to escort him. He had a look on his face that said that he had definitely had better assignments than being assigned as a young punk's aide.
"Who's your friend?" Kaz asked, flicking her dark hair back with a flick of her head.
"Daniel Godwin ma'am…I'm like a private contact for the NCR. I've done a few things for them, but I never really joined the army." He answered. He seemed simple. Or maybe he wasn't really, only embarrassed or awkward. He had a hard time looking her in the eye and he seemed to blush easily. She liked him immediately.
"Daniel, despite the circumstances, it is a pleasure to meet you. You seem like a nice kid. You may be in the wrong crowd, but you may be a nice kid anyway." Kazdin said.
"Oh…well, thank you." Dan said, blushing deeper.
"I would shake your hand, but…" Kaz trailed off, raising her bound fists before her.
"Master, I have finished scouting ahead. The enemy Geckos have been neutralized and your slave is safe." Came the deep monotonous voice of a large floating robot.
It had the body of a Sentry Bot, but floated along upon the propulsion engine of a Mr. Gutsy. The robot's armor was a patchwork of armor and scrap metal betraying its long history of combat and repairs. It sported only one arm, skeletal in appearance with a large hand sporting three stubby fingers.
Its eyes were a blazing bright orange and unlike its simpler brothers, it seemed to speak with a real virtual intelligence rather than the repetitive combat monologues spoken by other robots of its kind.
What impressed Kazdin even more than the beaten up tough look of the robot was that mounted upon both of the robot's shoulders were two intimidating mini guns.
"What…is this?" Kazdin asked in awe.
"HE is a work of my own. I built him myself. His name is Monroe-bot." Dan said proudly. Kazdin couldn't help but smile wide at the robot as she studied him.
"Oh, that is a nice name. Never heard of a robot with a name." Kazdin gushed. Dan thanked her, looking happy to find someone – a woman no less – who was impressed with his robotic companion.
"I have never seen a robot quite like this." Kazdin complimented.
"Wow. Thank you." Dan said softly. Kaz answered with a smile.
"Hey, nerd, why don't you introduce me to your fucking wife?" Little Buster said. Kazdin glanced askew at Little Buster with a sour look and looked back at Dan.
"I changed my mind. Little Buster is a douche. But you're not. Very nice to meet you Dan." Kazdin said.
"I'm really sorry about this. It's just business." Dan said. He actually sounded as if he meant it.
Kazdin smiled. A little too sweetly.
"You don't have to be this way." She said. Dan looked to the ground but said nothing.
"Look, bitch. You got something to say, you say it to me, not that little puss. Got me." Little Buster said, moving face to face with his newest paycheck. Kazdin glared back fearlessly.
"Take me out of these zip ties and you'll see a real bitch." She threatened. Buster smirked, teeth showing. He shook his head and brought his metal gauntlet harshly across her cheek, knocking her to the ground. He picked her up roughly and pushed her ahead, ordering her to march.
Dan stared astonished at Little Buster as he passed behind Kazdin. He sneered at Daniel and pushed his shoulder, pushing him out of his way in the process.
"You want to do something, pussy?" Little Buster asked, glaring at him from inches away.
The tell tale whirring of Monroe's mini guns sounded.
"Step away from the Master, or be vaporized." The steely monotone that was Monroe's voice sounded. Little Buster looked fearful for the moment and backed away, hands raised before marching off in the direction of Hoover Dam.
Kazdin looked over at Monroe and back at Dan.
"Thanks for the help." She said sadly as she was pushed ahead. Dan hesitated before allowing a long deep sigh and turning to his companion.
"Come on, Monroe." Dan said, falling in line.
"Following you as always, Master." Monroe intoned as they headed off into the desert wind.
Boone couldn't go back. He was stuck in the middle once again within a problem that he could do nothing to fix. He was powerless and he hated that feeling more than anything. First it was when he had Carla in his sights. He knew where she was. He knew he could send for backup. However, he also knew there was no way they could get to his position in time. He ended up taking a deep breath and shooting his beloved bride.
He never forgot that day and likely never would. His only path to personal freedom had shown up on his life's doorstep and waved hello with endless energy and funny little personality which he could not decide if he loved or hated. She wasn't another Carla, but the simplest of all facts remained, she didn't need to be. She was Kazdin "call me Kaz" Willow. Beauty, grace, deadly efficiency, childlike innocence, and X-rated not-so-innocence all rolled up into one tall and lithe package.
He had his orders from a no nonsense Colonel. She wanted Kazdin dead if it were proven that she was planning on waging war with the NCR. It was proven and Boone had seen her with his own eyes with Veronica leaving a bunker in the middle of a barren wasteland of nothingness. Veronica was a Brotherhood scribe and he had even watched Colonel Moore's Wolf Pack enter the den and the shooting could be heard above ground for a while. They were also overdue for their return when Boone witnessed Kazdin and Veronica leaving the bunker.
He had felt betrayed, but in his mind he knew this wasn't the case. Kazdin had never hidden an iota of who she was or what she believed. She was always forthright. When she recognized the threat the NCR had become after nothing more than examples of the authoritarianism of the Mojave Wasteland garrison, she had told him point blank in a tone that made him want to punch a few walls that she had had enough of the NCR and their annexation.
He had left after a wild night of sexual fun with his somewhat girlfriend and their best friend and had said horrible hurtful words before he slammed the door and left on his way. He had twisted the blade of Kazdin's mistakes in an effort to hurt her and he had succeeded. It was only Veronica's death threat that made him finally leave.
Would he accept him back?
He shook his head. It was a moot issue. He was forced to live with himself. Unless he found the courage to throw himself off a cliff, he would have to live with the ghosts of what he had done. He wasn't perfect by any means. He needed to realize that, but the realization made it even harder for him to sleep at night.
He had her in his crosshairs. He could have squeezed the trigger. Such a small, insignificant move, a twitch no less and he could have gone back to the NCR as a redeemed man. It would mean losing perhaps his one and only shot at personal redemption, however he would have something of a purpose.
On the other hand, was he any different that Caesar? He swore he hated the man the way a Christian would hate the devil. Caesar had murdered countless innocent people in his conquest and had enslaved thousands more to create the hydra that terrorized the NCR, but was he any different?
He had supported the annexation of New Vegas when the majority of the Mojave did not want to fall under the army's rule. Mr. House had taken advantage of their occupation by milking them dry of bottle caps while paying not an iota of tax moneys to them in exchange for the five percent of electricity and water the strip received from Hoover Dam. However aside from Mr. House's trickery, he was only one man. The people under him were countless.
The majority of the people of the Mojave wasteland just wanted the NCR gone, yet the NCR would not leave. They were beating up civilians in Freeside. They were annexing smaller settlements throughout the desert. A few settlements like Primm wanted the annexation, but even then the NCR seemed like devils in disguise. The high tax rates upon communities not known for their income were hurting the people and many could scarcely afford necessities.
Boone brought his hands to his head and scratched his hair, squeezing tight his eyelids and grimacing mightily his lips. He let out a loud growl of frustration as the thoughts continued turning within his brain.
They were spread too thin, a powerful force invading a weak spot would cause many of their settlements to fall apart and then the Legion would gain more of a foothold. They overtook Helios One by force, driving out the men and women who had discovered the power plant before they had even set foot on Nevada soil. They declared any tribe with any amount of disdain for the Republic an enemy in bad standing. Colonel Moore had instigated the wholesale slaughter of the Khans at Bitter Springs so they could get their hands on a few drug recipes and stashes.
Boone could take no more, he pounded at the hard caked dirt as tears that had not shown themselves since after Carla's death came pouring out of his eyes. The thoughts were being revealed to him and he could not stand the piercing light that had suddenly invaded his brain.
The NCR is wrong! They are no better than Caesar's Legion! We don't call them slaves, we call them civilians! We don't call it an invasion, we call it annexation! The NCR is wrong! Kazdin was right!
Boone's eyes popped open a few hours later. He had drifted to sleep in his grief and had ended up curled in upon himself in the fetal position. His beret had fallen off. He picked it up somewhat cautiously.
Dirt had caked the insignia of the two headed bear and the slogan of the First Recon had been altered.
"You Never See." Boone read aloud the tarnished patch.
But Boone had seen. It had taken a stubborn anti-loyalist to make him see. From the pain of those being beaten in the streets of Freeside to the slaughter of the Brotherhood force occupying Helios One. There were a few examples of the NCR's charitable side, but even those were tarnished.
Even the food drive in Freeside was sharing only with their own citizens, leaving the rest of the Freesiders with any connection with the King to die of hunger. They controlled the food outside the strip. The least they could do is share with those suffering.
Boone stood shakily to his feet. He was not like Caesar. But he had found out slowly that he was not like Oliver either. He was alone. He would not go back to Moore, even if it meant his own death. He could not go back to Kazdin either though. She would have nothing to do with him now. He had hurt her. Almost killed her. Why would he be welcome there?
He had lost a love interest and a best friend due to his foolish hands clinging onto the past relics of what the liars in tan fatigues had told him. He held onto ghosts rather than the body of a woman who had fascinated him. He had run off with his tail between his legs, partially in fear and partially in anger.
He had no idea whether or not she would take him back. She wouldn't kill him, he was certain. She was not that kind of woman. Beat him half to death? Maybe. But then he would have his answer and he would travel to the farthest reaches of the Mojave and find the largest concentration of Legion soldiers he could and fight until his own death. A fitting end for an NCR puppet.
Boone set a small fire and shed his clothes quickly. The NCR fatigues he had on were a mockery to him now. He threw his clothes into the fire. His sunglasses. He took one last long and loving look at his beret and with a few fresh tears, threw that into the fire as well. He replaced his fatigues with a leather jacket over his white undershirt and a pair of faded blue jeans.
He then set his uneasy gait toward the last place he had seen her. He would find the correct bunker if it took him all night and he would hope that maybe Kazdin and whomever else she had with her would accept him back.