Settle in, this one is a long one. Seven thousand words or so. I've been working on it (slowly) for the last week. Classes have really buckled down on me - and I've picked up quite a few extra shifts at work as of late. Crazy ass utility bills going up during the winter. But I managed to finish this up tonight...I probably should have been doing homework, but I wanted to get this done and get it out to everyone.
This is the last chapter before the battle of Hoover Dam. So brace yourselves...a storm is on the horizon. Be warned, this chapter has a couple pretty graphic scenes in it. You'll know it when you get to it. So brace yourselves.
Enjoy.
The floor of the Lucky 38 rocked beneath his feet. Six grasped the terminal – steadying himself.
"What the fuck is happening out there?! Who the fuck is attacking us?!"
"Oh! We're not under attack!" The jovial voice of Yes Man filled the air.
"What do you mean we're not under attack? Who's launching fucking missiles?"
"Not missiles! High end artillery rounds! Likely from a howitzer! Given the trajectory of the artillery, I'd say their point of origin is Nellis!"
Arcade was on his feet now. The Lucky 38 swayed with every strike. "Artillery fire?" He squinted, examining the area they had targeted. "Outside of North Vegas…much too far away to be causing the tower to shake…"
"Excellent observation!" The jovial voice of Yes Man filled the air. "The Lucky 38 is equipped with anti-air pulse cannons! They're targeting the incoming artillery!"
"Well then, why the fuck is the ground on fire?!" Six barked – his patience wearing thin.
"Another great observation! They're not as accurate as they could be! I guess I should probably calibrate them, huh?" The screen flickered, filling with static for a moment. Then Yes Man's blank stare filled it again. "…Analysis indicates that the population of their targeted area is less than .01% of the Mojave's total population!"
"What the fuck does that even mean?"
"No one lives there," Arcade explained.
"Exactly!"
"Then turn the fucking cannons off!"
"Whatever you say, chief!"
The floor trembled fiercely once more, then the rumbling subsided.
Six waited a moment, letting the room settle. Then he turned back to the screen. "Who was firing artillery rounds at my city?"
"The Boomers," Arcade told him – removing his glasses and wiping them down with a small square-cut piece of cloth. "But the A.I. is right, they weren't attacking the Strip. They can target single individuals as they approach Nellis. And with damn good accuracy. If they wanted to attack Vegas, they wouldn't have missed."
"Then what were they doing?" Veronica wondered aloud – more to herself than to her comrades.
"In all likelihood…creating a diversion," Arcade replaced his glasses. "Think about it. When those rounds started dropping – all eyes were on North Vegas."
"I can confirm that securitron activity has raised seventy-eight percent in the North Vegas vicinity!" Yes Man sang.
"So they wanted us looking at North Vegas…" Six shrugged. "But Why? What's the point?"
"The Boomers are isolationists…the only reason they would want to draw attention is if they were sneaking out," Arcade guessed.
"No, that doesn't make sense…" Shaking her head, Christine began typing at the terminal. Yes Man's face was replaced by folders, files, and bits of text. "If you're sneaking out, you don't want attention on you at all. No one was paying them any mind…why draw attention to themselves at all?"
"So what were they doing?"
"My bet…" Christine tapped a few keys, opening a file. The image of an old newspaper clipping filled the screen. "Here…The Mystery of Lake Mead. I saw this old clipping in House's collection. In 1948, a bomber crashed into the lake. The Boomers are isolationists, but they've definitely earned their name. Given their reputation…"
"You think they're going after the bomber?" Arcade's forehead wrinkled as he scrunched his nose.
"It'd make sense. They're interested in all things that go boom. They have enough artillery, high end ordinance, and small nuclear devices to wipe out half of the Mojave."
"And now they have a plane?" Veronica's voice sounded worried.
"Well, no…I mean, as long as that thing's been underwater? I don't know what they'd want with it."
"They are at Nellis afterall…" Arcade's brow furrowed further. "They may have another plane there. If they did, the one at the bottom of Lake Mead might be able to be used as salvage…"
Veronica squeaked – the sound of concern in her voice even more apparent than before. "…You're telling me we have neighbors with nuclear weapons…and they're working on a flight?"
Christine shrugged. "It's just a guess…"
"Better than a guess," his voice sounding nervous, Arcade's face curled into a frown. "I'd say we have a superpower on our hands."
"Do you think they're gearing up for war?" Six asked, his voice even.
Arcade shrugged – he simply didn't have an answer.
"So…we have a whole new threat to worry about." Veronica sighed. "This just keeps getting better."
While the rest of the group seemed content on misery – Six found a smile spreading across his face. "No…not a threat." He reached up, stroking the hair around his chin. "What we have here is opportunity…"
The room was cold – damp.
They had tried to get him to leave the room. They'd told him that there was nothing more that he could do. They told him to go home – to relax.
Ha.
Home. Where exactly was that? That god forsaken dinosaur? The festering pile of refuse it protected?
Or the Lucky 38? With that goddamn legion bastard watching his every move. Poisoning Six's ears with drivel and lies.
Eventually, they gave up. He wasn't going anywhere. Not until he knew for sure. That she was safe. That she was okay.
Or…
He took a breath. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about anything. So instead, he sat and watched them as they checked her vitals; her pulse, her breathing. They hooked her up to all sorts of alien machinery and stuffed her full of tubes – IV in her arms, a breathing pipe in her mouth. Her face was swollen – puffing out over the edge of the brace that gripped her neck tightly. Her head clean shaven – those once graceful feathered Mohawks stripped like the crown of a fallen queen. The skin around her eyes and her right temple was discolored – reds, purples, yellows, and blacks decorated the pink of her skin.
It didn't look like her. It couldn't be her.
Boone's mind raced – retracing his every moment in Caesar's tent. Was there any way he could have done anything? Did he even see her get attacked? How could he have missed it?
Julie Farkas and Dr. Usanagi were hard at work. Taking blood samples, running tests.
The Legion slave girl, Siri, walked in – very briefly – handing a few slides to Julie. Julie studied them carefully, her forehead wrinkled as her brow furrowed; eyebrows stabbing the grooves around her nose.
She looked up from the slides – face stricken with despair. She didn't need to say anything.
She took a step towards Boone, but he was already on his feet. Several dozen panicked breaths later – he was out in the open air.
His legs were not his own – they marched across broken terrain.
As he marched, he felt only hatred. Anger and desolation coursed through his veins.
He had felt this way before. On many occasions.
When he had opened fire on the Khans as they retreated through the canyon. When he dragged the cold corpse of Dhatri's boy from the dam.
…with Carla.
But this time, it was different. All the hatred that brewed inside him bubbled to the surface – and with it, not a single shred of remorse.
He was guilty of a lot of things. Unspeakable things. But this…this wasn't on him.
This was the work of the Legion.
And the Legion would pay for it. He would make damn sure of that.
Even if it cost him his life.
Graham pressed his back to the wall. His eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of the room – he locked them on to Cato as he gently pressed the door open. The two rangers stationed outside the door paid him no mind.
"So how are the kids, Gomez?" One asked.
"Good," the other – Gomez – replied, a voice distinctly feminine. "They're good. My tour's almost over. Two months left."
"I bet you're excited."
Graham grimaced.
"Yeah, yeah I am." Her voice sounded wistful.
Graham watched as Cato drew the hammer back on his magnum. Sequoias, the rangers had taken to calling them. Monsters of the West.
A double action revolver with enough kick to put a neat little hole in that riot helmet.
Graham narrowed his eyes at his comrade in arms.
But Cato wasn't paying attention – his attention was focused solely on the rangers before him. He raised his revolver and fired.
"I can't wait to…"
Gomez never finished her sentence. Just as she'd never see her children again. She'd never hold them.
Through gritted teeth, Graham followed suit. He raised his .45 and fired – his bullet finding its mark in the opposing Ranger's helmet.
So much for the subtle approach.
"There's only two more," Cato could see Graham's irritation. "We won't have any trouble."
"Pray we don't."
They made their way through the underground building. Graham hoped that Ghost and the other ranger had made their way out of the cave. That they hadn't heard anything.
But he knew better.
Even if they were out of the cave – the boom of Cato's magnum was loud enough to draw soldiers still stationed at McCarran to their location.
But, despite Graham's disbelief, they passed through the building and into the cave without incident. Then, they were out in the open.
Once more, Graham felt the warm rays of the sun on his face, though he knew better than to relish the moment.
He felt the fierce jolt of electricity course through his being. He dropped to one knee – but refused to go down.
Ah, there's my girl.
The cattle prod dug deep into his spine. Ahead of him, Cato turned to see the commotion.
Ghost held firm, giving Graham the full charge of the prod.
Cato drew his weapon – but didn't fire.
"Can't get a clean shot?" Ghost mocked. "You're Legion?"
Cato smiled in return. "And so is he."
Ghost felt a sharp pain in her neck as the remaining ranger brought the butt of his magnum crashing down into her neck. She stumbled forward, losing footing.
She crashed to the ground.
The ranger scooped up the prod as he approached his fallen prey. She rolled over onto her back, staring up at her assailant.
"Mother fucker…"
"This one's got a mouth on her…" The man laughed, planting his boot firmly into her stomach.
Ghost let out a yelp, rolling on to her side. Twice more he'd kick her – the last of which slammed into the base of her chin.
Graham grasped his knees, pushing himself up from the ground.
The ranger was circling her now – Cato eyeing the two viciously. The ranger began undoing his belt.
"I never liked you," he told her. "Always such a bitch. I've been waiting for this day a long, long time."
Cato grinned wide as we watched them. His eyes windows into a merciless soul.
"Fuck you!" Ghost coughed – spitting up blood.
The ranger laughed. "She's a fighter…" He looked up at Cato. "That's okay though. I like when they fight back."
Graham was on his feet now. "Leave her," he commanded. "We don't have time for this."
"What are you talking about?" Cato laughed. "We have all the time in the world."
"Caesar is dead. Lanius makes his way west as we speak. If I am to seize command of the Legion, I must move quickly."
"We can spare a moment," Cato maintained. "Let him have his fun."
Looking back towards the two, Graham watched as the ranger grasped the leather of her vest and the fabric of her shirt, fiercely tearing it aside.
Graham felt his vision blurring – his head spinning.
The ranger had her flipped over now – her red scarf wrapped tight around her throat. He hauled her up on to all fours.
She looked up at him – at Graham – her eyes burning into his soul.
He turned away.
He heard her cry out as the ranger entered her.
His breathing became erratic – his stomach twisted into a knot.
Laughter around him – from Cato. From the ranger.
He looked back at her – her pale skin exposed to the bright sunlight. The ranger slammed into her again and again. She grasped at the scarf around her neck, struggling to breath.
Graham exhaled through gritted teeth, shutting his eyes tightly. Enough – his mind screamed at him. Enough!
Graham's hand instinctively reached for his pistol. With lightning speed, he raised it – firing twice. The first shot hit the ranger's chest – making him stagger backwards. The second found its mark in his throat.
Then Graham turned his attention to Cato. He fired once – disarming the Legion Frumentarii.
"What the fuck!?" Cato grasped his hand. "What are you doing?"
But Graham didn't answer him. He stalked forward and planted his boot into Cato's chest – shoving him groundwards. He raised his pistol again.
Cato's eyes shone with fear and bewilderment. "Why?" He whimpered.
Graham sneered. "And I will punish the world for their evil…and the wicked for their sin." His finger pulled the trigger – the echo of his .45 bouncing off the canyon walls – and Cato was no more.
Graham knelt next to his former comrade; cocking his head to the side and studying him closely. Then he heard the distinct sound of a hammer locking into place. With a sigh, he closed his eyes.
"Drop it…" Ghost commanded.
Graham's grip on his pistol tightened.
"I said…drop it."
He raised his head, staring off into the distance – then he made his way to his feet. He turned, slowly, to face her. She was on her feet – Cato's revolver leveled at his head. Her clothes was ripped and torn – though she had done what she could to cover herself. She was bleeding from her mouth and nose; her eyes wet with tears, though she refused to cry.
Graham raised his left hand, beckoning her to lower the pistol – while simultaneously holstering his own with his right. "Hasn't there been enough bloodshed today? Will there not still be more to shed when the Legion marches on the dam?"
She laughed. "Caesar's dead. This war is over."
"No…it's only just begun. As we speak, the Monster of the East marches west. With an army at his back. Caesar was by no means a good man…but this man – this, beast – he has his own plans for the Mojave. For its people. His name is Death, and hell follows with him."
Ghost felt her lower jaw quivering. Graham stepped forward – reaching out his hand. She raised the revolver, steadying it. "Stay where you are…"
He stopped in place. "If you are going to kill me, then kill me. If you are not…I have work to do."
She swallowed.
He waited – and when he felt enough silence had passed, he turned from her. He had taken a handful of steps when she called out to him:
"Stop!"
So he did. He glanced back over his shoulder.
"Why?"
"Why?" He echoed.
She pressed her lips, lowering the revolver. "Why'd you save me?" She clarified.
"Mercy triumphs over judgment," Graham's voice was barely a whisper. "The Lord isn't done with you yet."
"Through here, boss…" Raul twisted the knob to the doorway leading into the maintenance area of the old rail tunnel. "My house is near here…when I was building it, I got a lot of the material from inside this tunnel. It'll take us right on through to the other side. We should be able to sneak into Nellis from there…"
"Good thing we ran into that old prospector," Cass said aloud, more to herself than to the group. "Would have sucked to have mortars lobbed at us."
"How'd you find this place?" Six asked.
"Fella passed by while I was building my shack…he had passed through the tunnel. Collecting the ferals to take them to their salvation. A journey to the Great Beyond…" Raul laughed. "Something like that anyway."
"What are we doing, anyway?" Cass carefully stepped through the tunnel debris.
"Introducing ourselves," Six explained, taking a breath. "The way I see it…the shit's about to hit the fan. So we can either stand in front of the fan…or we can turn the fan towards the Legion. That's why I sent Christine and Veronica to talk with the Brotherhood. I already have the NCR's support…if we get the Brotherhood and the Boomers on our side…" he grinned wide. "We'll roll over the Legion and send them whimpering back into Arizona."
Arcade pressed his lips. "That's a big if, though. I mean…the Brotherhood and the NCR don't exactly see eye to eye. And I'm not sure you want the Boomers allying with the NCR. The NCR has tried to make contact before…if they make an alliance with the Boomers…" he shook his head. "Things could go from bad to worse. And quick."
"That's exactly why I'm going to talk to them myself. I want them to side with me. Not the NCR."
"Might be best to leave them out of the equation all together."
"And risk the Legion getting to them first? You said it yourself. They've got a monopoly on high end ordinance. You saw them shelling outer Vegas. I can't risk them shelling the city."
"Maybe…" Arcade shrugged – reluctantly agreeing. He didn't sound convinced, but that didn't matter. Six had made up his mind.
"Speaking of introducing ourselves…Benny wants to give the Gomorrah to Dean Domino."
Six raised a brow. "No. Hell no. That son of a bitch is as crooked as they get. I told you about the Sierra Madre."
"Yeah…which is why I think we should talk with Marcus."
"Marcus?" Six scoured his memory. "Who the hell is that?"
"You remember the mutant leader of Jacobstown?"
"Yeah."
"He said he was a sheriff at one point…a mayor at another. He'd be perfect to head one of the families. Or a new family."
"Open a casino for ghouls and super mutants?" Six sounded cynical. "I mean…I don't think…"
Raul cast a glance over his shoulder. "Oh yeah, Boss. What kind of leader promotes equality for his nation? At least if you don't, you'll be safe if you decide to catch a show at the Aces."
Six frowned. "I mean, I didn't…"
"Don't apologize to me, Boss. Save your apologies for mutantkind."
"You know, that's actually not a bad idea…" Arcade chipped in. "I know Marcus. He's a damn good leader. He'd make a valuable ally."
Six shrugged. "I guess we'll head up to Jacobstown then."
"Perfect," Arcade nodded. "We'll make a pit stop along the way."
"For what?"
"The help I was telling you about."
An hour and a dozen landmines later and they were outside a large fenced in area – men patrolling with shoulder mounted rocket launchers and fat men…so called nuka launchers, he'd heard them called a time or two. Shoulder mounted catapults that flung mininukes with enough force to cause detonation.
Now they stood at the fence staring down the barrel of rocket launcher being held by a particularly vicious looking man. "How the fuck did you get in here?"
Six shrugged. "Luck I guess."
"Bull shit. No one gets through this town without me knowing."
"Things change…"
The man grimaced. "Aren't you a smart mother fucker…You know I could take care of you real quick…"
Another shrug. "Maybe…but here's the real question, buddy…a magnum round travels at about fifteen hundred feet per second. You're about eight feet away from me. I don't know how fast you can aim that thing, but I'm willing to bet I can pull the trigger before you do…"
"You think?" The man narrowed his eyes.
"What's going on here?"
The man looked behind him at a woman – dark haired, Asian decent – who'd emerged from a nearby tent.
"Who are they? How'd they get through?"
"I was just seeing to it that they went on about their way, Raquel," he answered.
"I'll take over from here, get back to your patrol," She spat.
The man's face sunk – he cast a final glance at the group before heading off further along the fenceline.
"What's your business here stranger?" Raquel asked, her eyes glued to Six's hand, which still hovered over his pistol.
"I'm just here to talk…"
"We got nothing to talk about," She nodded her head back towards the destroyed town. "Now why don't you head on back the way you came. We won't open fire on you, you have my word. But your kind ain't welcome here."
"Oh, when you hear my offer – you'll do more than welcome us. You'll invite us in."
"You got nothin' we need."
"No – I've got exactly what you need. I know what you pulled out of Lake Mead. And this man right here…" Six gave Raul a pat on the shoulder. "He can help you fix it."
Raquel narrowed her eyes. "Mother Pearl will want to talk to you…" she reached into a pouch at her hip, retrieving her keys – then, she unlocked the gate. "Stay close." They started through the camp, staying close to her side. "You'll have to forgive him…" She glanced over her shoulder. "We don't normally let outsiders in. Or even close, really. Mother Pearl says that things are going to be changing soon though. Said it was only a matter of time before someone got through. Looks like that was you…and your friends. You all must've been pretty sneaky though…I didn't even hear the howitzer firing…"
"Didn't see us. We came through the tunnel…to the south."
"Then you did good to avoid our mines."
"I've gotten pretty good at spotting them…" Six admitted – of course, he'd had training. And help – Raul wasn't half bad himself.
"Well…I'll make it more of a challenge for you next time," She stopped, and motioned towards a door of an old, worn out building. "Mother Pearl's inside."
"You want to confiscate our weapons first?" Six asked.
Raquel pulled her head back a notch, slightly confused. "Confiscate your weapons? No…" she laughed. "Personal armament is the foundation of social trust and responsibility. And I'm damn good at killing savages. I'd rather you not give me a reason to show you."
Six couldn't help but laugh. "No worries. You have my word."
The inside of the building was well preserved. And clean. Bookshelves and lockers lining the walls, and a set of faded tan couches sitting across from each other; wooden end table between them. On one of those couches was an elderly woman – easily in her eighties. She was frail, but her eyes housed an unrelenting youth. Deep blue and full of wisdom. She smiled at them as they entered – genuine and kind. "Good evening, children. You took your time getting here, didn't you? I've been waiting years."
Six stopped in place. "You…knew we were coming?"
She laughed. "I knew that someone would eventually make it through. Our howitzer's aren't only for show…but it was only a matter of time."
"We might have cheated a little bit."
"Cheated?" Pearl shook her head. "Call it…creative compromise. So what brings you to Nellis?"
"I've come to offer help, actually."
"Help?"
"The B-29 at the bottom of Lake Mead…"
Pearl's face hardened – the kindness fading from her eyes, becoming more stern.
"Yeah…I know about it. What you are to the Boomers…well, that's what I am to New Vegas. When your people started shelling around my city, I did some digging."
"Well, this is an awkward situation we've found ourselves in. I'm not sure how to approach this…we've been working on reviving the Lady in the Water for a long time. I can't very well let anything interfere with that…"
Six held up his hands, "And I don't plan to. Quite the contrary, actually," he gestured to the Raul, who stood quietly across the room, casually leaning against the door. "The ghoul…his name is Raul. And he's very likely the best damn mechanic that's ever walked the wastes."
Pearl narrowed her eyes.
"He's come to offer his services…to help repair the aircraft."
"There was an aircraft here when we arrived over fifty years ago…Loyall has been hard at work repairing it since. I'd wager that he could do what needs to be done without your help…he has come this far, after all."
"Doesn't hurt to have a second set of eyes, though…right?"
Pearl's face softened again. "I suppose it doesn't, outsider…and what of this one." She turned to Arcade. "A doctor?"
"…When I need to be," Arcade answered.
"We recently had an incident with a colony of ants in our power station. A few of our youngsters were injured. Our doctor, Argyll, is hard at work on them now. But this one speaks the truth…a second set of eyes never hurt…"
Arcade nodded. "I'll…I'll do what I can."
Mirroring Arcade's nod, Pearl turned back to Six. "It is very generous of you to travel all this way to offer your assistance. One has to wonder what's in it for you?"
One side of Six's lips curled up into a light smirk. "I'm glad you asked…"
He was on the balcony when Boone found him; Chief Hanlon – staring out over the lake. He looked up a moment, but only briefly. Then he lost himself again, staring out over that pristine water – the crystal blue reflecting the midday sky.
"It's beautiful isn't it? You don't see lakes like this back home. Natural or manmade. We drained them a long time ago…irrigating. Draining the aquifers. Just a bunch'a…mud and dust now." His eyes had a sort of sadness about them. He reached down, scooping up an old empty canister of cram. He spit into it – a thick black stream of tobacco juice. Then he wiped his face with his sleeve. "It's a different feeling, you know? Watching the sun set over the water. Waking up to a sky lit up with pinks and oranges…takes some getting used to."
Boone removed his beret and kneeled next to the old man. He looked out over the water.
"The Mojave has a way of burning people up, son. But you're a good man. Done alright by the NCR. I'm sorry that we let you down."
"You didn't let me down, sir."
"Didn't we? One woman lost to the Legion. Another lost fighting our battle for us."
"She's not lost yet."
Hanlon forced a smile and scratched his chin. "What brings you here, son?"
"I need your help. The Legion is retreating…heading back into Colorado. But they're not going to stay there. You know that as well as I do. But if…if we can catch them. Before they have time to regroup. We can end this war."
A quaint little laugh escaped Hanlon's lungs. "There ain't no end to war, son. It's been with us since the first man saw something he wanted but couldn't have. It'll be with us 'til their ain't nobody left to wage it."
"We can save lives."
"And we can take them."
"Exactly," Boone nodded. "That's that's why I'm here. We have the advantage…for the first time in a decade. But we need to act quickly."
Hanlon sighed. "Listen, son…I couldn't help you even if I wanted to. Even if this wasn't just some suicide mission. Look, I understand that the Legion put a hurting on you – and it ain't right. And even if we do have an advantage…it's not in my hands anymore."
"What do you mean?"
A frown spread across Hanlon's face – his grizzled beard dropping downwards. "I thought I could help get us out of here…thought I was doing what was right. But how we plan things ain't always how things turn out. General Oliver has given me a choice…an ultimatum. I can step down. Retire…head home and live out my days on my ranch. Or I can be dishonorably discharged…"
Boone furrowed his brow. "What?"
A thin smile spread across Hanlon's face. "I guess this old man has outlived his usefulness…"
"Have you talked to Crocker? To Hsu? Oliver's not the only man in power…they have connections…they can…"
"Ain't nothin' to be done, son. It's over," Hanlon spit again – this time on to the wooden deck of the House Resort. He swallowed, staring at the deck for a long while. Then looked back out over the water. "Ain't nothin' to be said neither. I can't tell you that those misfits you rescued at Nelson would follow you and that courier to the grave. Or that First Recon and Gorobets don't give two shits about what Oliver has to say. I can't tell you that reports are flying in from all over the Mojave that Lanius is at our doorstep. That he's setting up camp just over the Colorado as we speak," his eyes turned from the lake, leveling on Boone's shades. He stared deeply into them – past them, into his own reflection. "I can't tell you 'cause all that's privileged information."
Boone stared back in silence. He didn't know whether or not to thank the Chief – for a moment he thought he might. But when the Chief turned from him and back towards the lake, he knew. The chief didn't want to be thanked.
He wanted the Legion dealt with – and that was something Boone was happy to assist with. He quietly made his way back into the building – his mind in sort of a daze. He didn't respond to the rangers that threw up their hands as he passed, or to the women who batted their eyelashes at him.
My mind right now is on the Legion – he'd said to Veronica all those months ago. I don't really want it on anything else.
That was still the truth. And it wasn't. His mind raced full of thoughts – about his wife, about Carla. About the child he'd never know. About the courier – and the burned man. About the man he used to be and the man that he had become.
And about Melissa. Why couldn't she have just listened to him? What did fate have in store? He knew he shouldn't have bought back into the game…now everything was falling apart again.
He was nearly out of the camp when a woman did catch his eye. He recognized her. A pretty young girl – short honey blonde hair. She had her eyes glued on him from the moment he'd emerged from the resort. She was standing with a group of men – one sporting a Mohawk.
And that made him think of her all over again.
"Hi," the girl smiled, extending her hand. "Name's Maggie…people call me…"
"Mags," Boone nodded. "I remember."
"Yeah…I just wanted to thank you. For what you did for me…for us. Back in Nelson. If there's anything…"
"There is," Boone said, cutting her off. "But it's not going to be easy."
"Well, this is where we part," Arcade smiled. "The next time I see you, I promise you…you won't recognize me."
Six reached out, shaking the man's hand. "You're sure they'll help?"
"They won't be thrilled. Working with the NCR and the Brotherhood?" Arcade shook his head. "But I'll get them to come around."
"And how will we know it's you?" Cass asked, coyly. More a joke than anything. "I mean…if we won't recognize you."
Another smile. "Oh…just look to the sky." With a wink, he turned from them and headed into the wilderness just east of Jacobstown.
"And then there were two," Cass jibed – as she and Six headed towards the mutant settlement. "It's pretty here…if it wasn't so damn cold."
Six slipped his duster off and wrapped it around her, then took her hand into his own. With every step, he could feel his heart beating in his chest.
"When the time comes…" He turned to look at her. "When the Legion attacks the Dam…I don't want you there."
She stopped. Her face saying the words she did not – Excuse me?
He stopped too – turning to face her. "You didn't see Melissa…you didn't see what that did to Boone. I can't do that, Cass. I can't lose you."
"And you think that I want to let you charge into a fight without me? You take off on these damned adventures, Six…you leave at the drop of a dime and I don't know whether I'll ever see you again. You left me in that damn slum while you explored those vaults and ended up only God knows where in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn't let me help with Christine and Black Mountain. Then you take off with an expedition with people you barely know – you ended up in Zion for crying out loud. You come back with the fucking Malpais Legate. No." She shook her head solemnly. "When are you going to understand that I can take care of myself. That I'm not some goddamn damsel in distress…and that I'm not going to lose you. I'm not going to let you wander off again…I'm just not. That's the end of it."
Six stared at her in silence for a moment – then his lungs erupted with laughter. His hand still wrapped around hers, he pulled her close and devoured her lips. When he pulled away, he lost himself in her eyes a moment. "I feel sorry for the Legion."
"Why?"
"Because they haven't seen you pissed…"
They shared a smile. Soon after, they were standing at the gates of Jacobstown – Six recognized the mutant at the gate.
"Neil? What brings you here?"
"With Tabitha moving on from Black Mountain, Marcus sent for me. I help him out here where I can."
"That's good to hear. Where is he now?"
"He's inside…" Neil turned from the duo and began lumbering towards the resort. "What brings you to Jacobstown?"
"I have a proposal for Marcus, as a matter of fact."
"A proposal?"
"I'm a pretty big player on the Strip right now."
"So I've heard."
"I want to offer a slice of that pie to you all."
Neil slowed briefly, casting a glance over his shoulder. "You want to let mutants into New Vegas?"
Six nodded, "I've learned a little bit in my time, Neil. I've run into some bad mutants. Put down a few too. But I've done the same with more than a few people."
Neil nodded as well. "There's good and bad in all." He stopped short of the resort. "Head on in…Marcus is on the second floor. Just ask around if you can't find him."
"I'll do that," Six extended his hand. The mutant looked confused for a moment – then shook it quaintly.
The duo turned towards the resort – they were nearly at the door when a voice called out.
"Jimmy?! Sweet little Jimmy! You've come to see your grandma!"
The inside of the tent was dark – dimly lit by a smoldering torch in one far corner. Near the center was an elongated wooden table; a man seated at one end, adorned in golden armor with medium length salt and pepper hair. He glanced across the room at a woman – hands and legs bound.
Her soft sobs filled the air around him.
He smiled at her – a smile that betrayed his intentions. He lifted a small blade and directed it towards her. "Our victory will be swift. We will take the Dam, secure it, and the road west will be built with the bodies of the fallen. It was Caesar's will…the will of the Legion. The west, all beneath the flag of the Great Bear exist only as a test of the Legion's strength. And we will prevail."
The girl didn't respond. She let her eyes fall to the ground – tears welling in them. Daylight broke into the tent as another entered – a woman, gauze covering her eyes, accompanied by the sweet smell of grilled meat. She walked slowly – carefully – her feet feeling the ground in front of her. She placed a plate on the table.
"You are a fortunate whore…to have the privilege to gaze upon the face of greatness and not be stricken blind," he reached up and pulled the gauze from the young woman's face. Dark holes where once her eyes lay. He lowered the blade – cutting into the thick steak on the plate before him. "There's something to be said about yao guai…it is quite delicious." He stabbed into it and lifted it to his mouth – taking a moment to smell it. Blood dripped from the meat, falling back on to the plate before him. "Once we cross the Colorado…nothing will stand in our way."
"You're wrong…" she whispered. Barely audible.
"Excuse me? You think your boyfriend can save you? That he'll come in like a shining knight galloping upon a white horse?" He laughed – a booming sound. "Legate Graham tested the Legion once…and he deserved the gift of flame that Caesar bestowed upon him. It will be no different this time around."
"You don't know him…you don't know what he's capable of."
"And do you know what I am capable of, little one?"
She didn't respond.
"You will soon enough," he laughed – casting a glance at the far end of the tent. Two NCR men hang, strung up by their feet. Throats slit ear to ear – their blood pooling in tubs beneath them. "When my army has arrived. When the blood sacrament is complete. When you have been purified…you will bear witness."
"Make yourself at home, grandma…"
Six couldn't help but be amused with the mutant. That silly straw hat perched crookedly upon her head.
"Oh! Thank you, sweetie!" She trotted off through the casino as Six and Cass made their way to the elevator.
Six pressed the key and impatiently tapped his foot. Before long, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. They made their way on and he jabbed a key.
"So what now?" Cass asked, her voice shaking lightly.
Six shrugged. "I don't know…"
"Do we attack? Do we take the securitrons from the Strip? What about the NCR?"
"I don't know…" Six said again, his voice showing irritation. He clasped his hands over his face. "Cass…I'm…I never asked for this. I'm scared…I…" he turned towards her, locking his eyes on hers, then looked downwards. "I don't know what I'm doing half the time," he sighed.
She reached out, grasping his hand and stepped in close – placing her lips gently across his. Her small frame felt good against him – he held her tightly, cupping the small of her back and resting his forehead against hers.
"Sometimes you have to just let things happen…" she consoled him, quietly. "We do what we can…and leave the rest up to fate."
"Sometimes that's not good enough…" He held her tighter and locked his lips around hers.
Another ding, and the door slid open. They were stumbling for the master bedroom – disrobing along the way. The door swung open, crashing into the wall. They were nearly on the bed when Cass let out a gasp – covering herself.
"I'll come back…" Graham said – making his way to his feet.
Six turned to him – "Where the hell have you been?"
"I was a little tied up."
"With what?"
"It is of no consequence…Lanius moves east. If he isn't already here, he will be soon. The Legion will attack the Dam. And they will take it."
"What do you mean they will? Where the hell have you been?"
"We need to move," Graham told him, brushing off the question. "If we are to protect this city, we need to act fast."
"Answer the goddamn question, Graham."
Graham stopped, cocking his head to the side. "What does it matter?"
"Because Boone thinks you're helping the Legion. That you want to take it over. And since we've been back, you've conveniently backed out of every confrontation we've had with them. You didn't go with us to Cottonwood Cove…you weren't there when we took back Nelson. You weren't at Bitter Springs…and they showed up. They knew we were there."
"Or they were looking for an easy target for slaving."
"I'm only going to ask you one more time…" Six grasped the magnum in the holster at his side. "Where were you?"
Graham's hand found its way to his own pistol. "Don't do anything that you'll regret, my friend."
They stood – eyes locked on each other for a long while.
Six felt his hand shaking – he knew what Graham was capable of. He was terrified…and Graham could see it. What was worse was that Six knew he could see it.
"Why won't you just answer the question?" Six asked. His tone of voice had changed – it was closer to a plea.
"You just have to trust me…I have my reasons."
"I…I can't," Six shook his head. "Just get out."
Graham scowled – letting a long breath of air escape his lungs. He backed towards the door, careful not to take his eyes off of the man standing before him. He backed across the hall, then into the elevator.
Minutes later he was out on the Strip – headed towards the large metal gate. Then he was in Freeside – passing people by with a swift stride. Outside of the Mormon Fort…then in it. He needed to see her…to see Julie. He needed someone he could talk to.
But she wasn't there.
Instead, he found a crowd. All gathered around a woman – dark skinned, bloodied, bruised. She was lying on the ground. He pushed his way through the crowd.
"The burned man…" she cried. "I need to see the burned man…"
Graham froze in place.
The woman looked at him – at his bandaging – her eyes swollen. "They…they took her. We were on our way back…from the clinic. Julie and I…we were attacked. They took her."
"Who?" He knelt next to her, taking her hand into his own. "Attacked by who?"
"Legionnaires…they…they had a message for you. Si vis pacem…Para bellum."
Graham frowned – he felt his heart racing. Beating with the ferocity of a stampeding bull.
"What does it mean?" Someone from within the crowd asked.
"Si vis pacem…para bellum. It's Latin," Graham explained. "If you want peace…prepare for war." He looked down at the women – his eyes saw fire and his heart bled with fury. "Mihi vindicta, et ego retribuam, dicit Dominus."
And that's it for this chapter. I wanted to clear a few things up - I wrestled with the scene with Ghost a while. But I wanted to show the brutality of the Legion and show the change in Graham. At the same time, the Legion now has Julie Farkas, and this was done to get to Graham specifically. Lanius has thrown the gauntlet. How will Graham answer that?
Boone seeing Melissa in the state she was in would be terrifying. I'm not sure how many of you have seen someone after a traumatic accident - but I wanted my description of that to capture just how intense that is. I might have watered it down too much though. I hope I didn't...I wanted it to be powerful, but at the same time I didn't want to bombard everyone with one gut-wrenching experience after another.
Which is why I drastically shortened the scene with Lanius and Julie Farkas. The blood sacrament is meant to purify her for Lanius. And originally, Lanius was pretty brutal. But I decided to just allude to the fact instead of spelling it out. Again...the Legion is vicious. Particularly Lanius.
Things are moving into place. All the pieces have been set and now all the major players are on the board. The Second Battle of Hoover Dam is finally upon us. After the next chapter...everything changes.
I hope I don't disappoint.
Until next time.