During the drive—when Sandra was attempting to adjust to the controls of the large vehicle—Niner and Vulpes decided to retire to the beds, both of them indulging in a restless nap as the bus cruised bumpily down the broken Vegas road.

Arcade sat quietly in the passenger seat for a while, gazing out the side window and appearing distant. Sandra stole several glances of him as she drove, then glimpsed behind her seat, taking a quick gander at her friends in the far back—both of whom were snoozing well out of earshot.

So, Sandra took a deep breath and decided to speak her mind, hushing her tone.

"Arcade," she mumbled.

"Hm?" Arcade blinked and turned his head, raising his brows at her.

Sandra sighed again. "Can we talk?"

Arcade stared at her for a moment. "Sure…?"

"Foxxy… I mean… Vulpes," Sandra muttered. "We need to talk about him…"

Arcade then leaned farther back, releasing a stressed cloud of breath. "Look, I… I told you, I'd defer to your judgment on this. But that doesn't make it easier on me. I can't look past everything he's done. I just can't."

Sandra shot him a curious squint. "Then why do you look past everything I've done?"

Arcade narrowed his eyes at her. "You haven't done anything like what he's done in the past."

"Yeah… actually, I have," Sandra told him solemnly, tapping her fingers to the steering wheel. "I told you the story… of how I met him, when I came from back east. I told you, I willingly killed all those Denver folks who were trying to help me out. I killed everyone there… and I didn't think a damn thing of it. How is that different from what Vulpes did to Nipton?"

"Because it…" Arcade paused, running a hand down his face and thinking for a moment. "Look, it… it's different. You were battered, and starved, and on the brink of total insanity. You couldn't possibly utilize any kind of sensible judgment in that state of mind. So… that makes it much more understandable. But Vulpes's circumstances were different. He just manipulated the leaders of Nipton into walking into a springing trap, and he tortured the majority of the town to death. That's not the same. Not at all."

"His circumstances forced his hand, Arcade," Sandra told him, thinking of the name Charon and feeling a sharp pain in her head. "I… I can't explain it, but I know what he went through. I've seen it before. He had to do all that evil shit, or else the Legion would've Joshua-Grahamed his ass."

Arcade hesitated, giving her a peculiar look. "What do you mean, you've seen it before…?"

Sandra frowned at the dusty windshield, her head pounding with a mild dull pain now.

"People being… brainwashed… into willing slavery," she murmured grimly. "Foxxy was under that little mind-control spell… just like…"

Gulping and gritting her teeth, Sandra gripped the wheel tighter, trying to force away the growing pain in her head.

Arcade observed her more intently. "You knew someone else in that situation…"

"Yeah," Sandra exhaled. "I just can't remember…"

"Sandra," Arcade said softly, leaning slightly closer. "When you had this friend in the past… what did you do with them? Do you have any idea? Did you manage to save him from his situation…?"

"Yeah… I did," Sandra replied, not knowing how she knew such a thing, but feeling thoroughly confident in her answer. "It just takes time… for them to get out of their old brainwashed mentality. But it can happen. They just need a chance… and some time to adjust."

Arcade folded his arms, slowly nodding. "Then… it's possible you might pull that off again. I can see that. But I speak from experience when I say this; it's a hard, hard road when you try to fix a broken person. And it really sucks when it doesn't manage to work. Fixing people only works if they're willing. And a person like Vulpes Inculta… he's very intense, very brainwashed, very manipulative, and very dangerous. You can understand why I'm concerned…"

"I get that… but it just feels like the right thing to do," Sandra sighed. "I can see a worthwhile person underneath all the… all the 'Legion' in his personality. And remember… when we were at the Omerta meeting in Gomorrah… I would've died if he didn't show up when he did. He saved my life."

Arcade let out a heavier breath, leaning back again and glaring up at the rusty ceiling.

"I know," he resolved. "Believe me… I wouldn't have agreed to take him on if that didn't happen. That one instance… that was the only, only reason I decided to take a chance on him. I see what you mean. He can be decent when he wants to be. But all the other things he's capable of… it really concerns me. Part of me thinks he's only with us because he has nowhere else to go… like he's just mooching off of us to survive. And with a person like that, added with all his terrible skills… you never know when they're gonna turn on you."

Sandra pondered on this for a moment.

"Yeah," she agreed. "But he still deserves a chance. I don't think he's gonna turn on us."

Arcade turned, giving her a long, serious look.

"If the Legion ever gives him a chance to redeem himself to them," he uttered severely. "Then I really hate to think of what he'd do with that opportunity."

"Well… lucky for us, the Legion isn't big on second chances," Sandra told him. "Besides, I… I can take that leap of faith. If he ever turns on us like that, then we'll deal with it. But I don't think it's gonna come to that."

"Sandra," Arcade murmured gravely. "I'm on board with your little plan, here… but, as a friend, I have to say. Please, please don't put all your faith in him."

"I'm not," Sandra stated. "I'm not trying to play 'fixer' here. I'm not fixing him. I'm giving him the chance to fix himself—and it seems like he's doing okay with that so far. So we're good."

"For now," Arcade breathed, resting his head against the passenger window. "But I still think he's just riding on our bandwagon for his own survival. The moment he finds an escape, he might betray us and take it. Just… be prepared for that."

Sandra glanced over at him. "You don't think he cares about us at all?"

"No, I don't," Arcade replied firmly. "I hardly think he's capable of that feeling. He has an odd connection with you, obviously… but the rest of us are little more than human cattle to him."

Sandra frowned at the road ahead, thinking deeply on this and wondering if Vulpes truly was capable of caring about anyone else in her group. Vulpes seemed to care for her—at least to some extent—but she couldn't argue against Arcade's point. Honestly, she had no clue if Vulpes considered Niner or Arcade to be valued equals or allies. It was an admittedly troubling thought, but there was nothing she could do about it as of now.

"We'll see," Sandra disclosed, driving down a lonesome road and slowing the bus as she approached an isolated gas station off to the left. "Now… lock and load. We're stashing the bus here. It's too noticeable, especially to a sniper. We're hoofing it from here."

With caution, she managed to park the bus sideways in the small parking lot of the gas station, stopping it just behind the building, safe from the view of the mountains behind it. After powering off the engine, Sandra stood and marched down the bus while Arcade remained in his seat, double-checking his plasma defender and patting his chest, ensuring that he was wearing the Kevlar vest Niner had looted for him during a fiend attack days ago.

Sandra approached the beds, seeing Niner and Vulpes sleeping on the mattresses beneath the hammocks, Niner sprawled out and snoring lightly into the air, Vulpes resting on his back with crossed arms, his hat tipped halfway over his face, and Scar the deathclaw was curled up on the bed beside him, tucked cozily into Vulpes's side with his scaly face resting peacefully on the fox's stomach.

Sandra paused, observing Vulpes and Scar and revealing a faint smirk. Vulpes happened to be present the moment Scar hatched from his egg months ago, and now, the little deathclaw seemed to view him and Sandra both as parents, clinging to either of their sides whenever he could. She took a moment to appreciate the pleasing scene, thinking Vulpes and Scar looked strangely adorable now. She hoped the banished frumentarius would remain this way, living reasonably and peacefully in the normal world, slowly losing his Legion ways and never acting to prove Arcade's suspicions correct.

"Guys," Sandra said loudly, clapping her hands above both mattresses. "Wake up—we're here. We gotta get ready to get this guy."

Niner and Vulpes blinked themselves awake. Sandra marched away, standing behind the driver seat and rifling through her bag for more magazines, hoping to pocket them for her combat shotgun. As she did, Niner slowly sat upright, yawning and stretching. Vulpes sighed and sat up as well, adjusting his suit and hat and glimpsing down at the snoozing deathclaw.

"Hey—get off me," Vulpes grumbled, tapping Scar on the head. "Wake up, creature. Come on."

Scar let out a squeak, gazing up and Vulpes with wide whitened eyes. Niner chuckled at the tiny monster, pulling an old stick of iguana bits from his pocket and feeding it to the deathclaw. Scar nibbled on the food as Niner and Vulpes straightened up, sitting across from one another while Niner began surveying his rifle.

"Oy, mate—you got a gun, right?" Niner asked Vulpes. "I know you like punching and stabbing, but we're gonna need some range for this job."

Vulpes squinted at him. "I have a side arm, yes."

"Well, that's good, but um… you might need something with better range than that," Niner suggested. "We're dealing with a top-notch sniper, here."

Vulpes stared at him. "Noted… but your concern isn't needed. I have a plan that doesn't involve ranged combat. At least, not from me."

Niner perked his brows—Sandra and Arcade both spinning around up front, eyeing Vulpes interestingly and slowly moving to approach him. A brief silence fell as they gathered around Vulpes, staring at him and waiting for him to explain further.

Vulpes folded his arms and sighed. "This man can see the entire stretch of road from where he's allegedly camping—which means sneaking up on him would entail a long hike up the mountainside. And this man is likely to be jumpy, too. Frightened and expecting an attack. Which, all in all, means that we need to distract him while you're all sneaking up on him. That's where I come in."

"How are you gonna distract him?" Sandra wondered, kneeling in front of him and giving him a curious stare.

Vulpes met her eyes. "I've mastered stealth in ways most profligates could scarcely imagine. By the time he realizes I'm there, he won't be in a position to snipe—I'll be too close. I plan to speak to him while you're all making your move—but if he attacks me, you'll have to make your move a little faster. Either way, he'll be distracted by me—so you'll have a clear opening to kill him."

Sandra frowned. "That's reckless. You could die."

"Well… as useless as the fiends are, we did manage to obtain these from them," Vulpes remarked, pulling his collar slightly open and patting the bulletproof vest inside. "Even if he shoots me, I should be fine. He won't be in a position to align a quick headshot. Trust me, if the stealth and timing are all performed perfectly, then everything will be fine. And it will be performed perfectly—because I'll be the one doing it."

"You really wanna do that?" Niner asked uncertainly. "You wanna be the bait for this guy?"

"It's nothing new to me," Vulpes replied with strange nonchalance. "This is a very simple job. You all just better be ready to act when the time is right. And, even if you fail to do so… I'm sure I can disarm and kill him myself if I get close enough. All the variable factors seem to lean in our favor. Therefore… there's nothing more to discuss. Are we all clear?"

"Foxxy," Sandra said seriously. "Are you sure you want to…?"

"It's the most reasonable plan—what I want has little influence on the matter," Vulpes concluded, cracking his neck and reaching his feet. "Are we all ready?"

Sandra, Niner, and Arcade all exchanged faces.

"Sure," Arcade said, giving Vulpes a nod. "Let's go for it."

"All right. You three will navigate up the mountain—and I'll be watching you," Vulpes planned, leaning down and pulling a pair of binoculars from his small bag. "When the time is right, I'll move in on him, and we should both approach him at the same time from two different angles—me in plain sight, you hidden up the mountain. Stealth and timing. That's the core of our plan—don't forget that."

"Absolutely," Arcade agreed. "But you'd better be ready to draw on him, just in case. I don't imagine this insane murderer will be very open to conversation, especially to a stranger approaching him at sundown. That would arouse suspicion even from a sane man."

Vulpes's eyes narrowed pensively at Arcade.

Sandra and Niner glimpsed between the two of them, feeling a spark of nervousness, but Vulpes had no intention of arguing; instead, he merely nodded in agreement before heading for the door.

Just when everyone began climbing out of the bus, Arcade found himself at the back of the group. Sandra and Niner marched outside, and Arcade hesitated, grabbing Vulpes's shoulder and pulling him to a stop.

Vulpes halted, turning and eyeing arcade irritably.

Arcade sighed, wearing a flattened sort of expression. He then peeled off his doctor's coat for a moment, revealing a pair of small holsters hanging from a harness-like strap that he wore beneath his jacket. Both tiny holsters had two nine millimeters in them, and Arcade pulled the holster harness off, handing it to Vulpes.

Vulpes stared down at it, then gave Arcade another strange look.

Arcade nodded at Vulpes's side, where his own holster was in plain view just beneath the rim of his dark suit jacket.

"Your side arm is too visible," Arcade informed, slipping back into his overcoat. "You need your guns to be completely concealed when you approach this guy—especially if you're gonna try to be diplomatic with him. The mere sight of guns might send him off the deep end straight off."

Vulpes was silent for nearly a full minute, glaring at Arcade. Sandra and Niner—both standing just outside of the bus—gazed into the vehicle, watching Arcade and Vulpes closely and hoping no arguments would spawn between them.

Moments later, Vulpes simply nodded again, taking off his suit jacket and sliding the holster harness onto himself. He removed his own belt and holster and slid back into his jacket, now wearing two side arms that were completely hidden from sight.

"You have a good eye for detail," Vulpes commented. "I'll give you that."

Arcade cocked his brow. "Well, despite me not being a whirlwind of death and destruction… this isn't my first rodeo."

Vulpes scoffed out a dry laugh, and the two of them stepped out of the bus, Scar whining sadly as they closed the side door, sealing the small animal inside. The four of them stood alone in the parking lot for a moment, the Nevada sky darkening as the sunset drew near.

They traded eyes, then moved across the parking lot toward the edge of the gas station, peering out from behind the building and observing the lonesome mountainsides in the semi-near distance. The dusty mountains contained no trees or grass, only dirt and sand—and on the farthest hill, directly in the center of the giant hillside opposite them, the faintest hint of orange light seemed to be flickering from atop the lone hill.

"Hell… we can see his campfire from here," Niner chuckled. "Bloke's making it too easy for us. What a dipshit."

"Well… he's psycho from syphilis," Sandra shrugged. "He's not thinking clearly."

"Never complain about the stupidity of a target," Vulpes advised. "That makes it all the more simple. Let's move."

Sandra, Niner, and Arcade prepared to venture out from the opposite side of the gas station, leaving Vulpes alone beside the corner of the building. As they marched off, Sandra slowly stopped, spinning around and approaching Vulpes again.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, Sandra sighing heavily.

"Hey… if you see me," Sandra muttered. "If you see me aiming my shotgun at him, you better move the hell out of the way. All right? It's not a weapon for precision like a sniper rifle—it's made for overkill."

Vulpes returned her gaze without replying.

Sandra attempted a smile. "Be careful."

Vulpes paused, then gave her a subtle nod.

Sandra responded with a final smirk, then spun on her heel and followed her companions into the oncoming darkness of the night.

As Vulpes waited patiently at the corner of the building, watching the scene intently through his binoculars—Sandra, Niner, and Arcade headed toward the nearest crevice in the mountainside, marching up a steep dirt hill in silence. During their long and tireless walk—sometimes resorting to climbing awkwardly up hillsides and rocks—they eventually lumbered to the top of the giant dirt hill, overlooking the Nevada night and marching along the high elevation, slowly approaching the area of their target. Once they were walking on level ground again—a far less exhausting era of their efforts—someone finally decided to speak.

"Well," Sandra said from the front of the group, glancing at Arcade from over her shoulder. "What do you think now?"

Arcade blinked. "About what?"

"Foxxy," Sandra smirked. "He's risking his ass."

"Oh…" Arcade nodded sideways. "Well, it would make sense for him to purposely present himself to us as an extremely loyal and competent ally. That way, he can manipulate us into keeping him around."

"That's kinda paranoid, Arcade," Sandra snickered. "Maybe not everything he does is an act."

"Well… that's the trouble," Arcade sighed. "He's a spy… and a damn good one. You can never tell what's an act and what's not."

"Maybe you can't," Sandra snarked confidently, gripping her shotgun tighter.

"You two are thinking way too hard about that bloke," Niner remarked, warranting questioning glimpses from his companions. "What? Don't lookit me in that tone of voice. From where I'm standin', the guy's just trying to get by, same as we are. Simple as that. If you stop lookin' at him as a Legionary… he's pretty much the same as us. Just a guy surviving."

Sandra and Arcade swapped thoughtful glances, both of them falling silent as they slowly began toward the steep hillside in the distance before them—the one that overlooked the hidden campsite of the infamous Tom Quigly. Suddenly, the three of them found themselves moving with a slow sense of stealth, their footsteps falling light and silent as their hearts began to pound, their senses spiking, their bodies hunching while they inched closer to the edge of the steep hillside.

It was during this time when Vulpes was navigating his way through the darkness, keeping to the shadows of the mountains as he moved with swift caution. When he reached the side of the hill—the bottom of the hill where Tom's camp was—he took a deep breath, stepping forward and marching up the hill at last.

As Sandra and Vulpes moved inward from two distant locations—Vulpes took each step as silently as a shadow, steadily heading uphill, his ears perking as a muffled voice slowly grew to his notice. The closer he came to the top of the hill, the clearer the voice became; along with the faint crackling of his campfire, Tom was pacing back and forth atop the hill, repeatedly adjusting his cowboy hat and carrying his sniper rifle, yammering to himself and hissing various curse words at seemingly no one.

Sandra, Niner, and Arcade settled in position, all three of them hunched at the top of the mountain and staring downward, watching from up high as Tom paced beside his campfire and his sleeping bag. And, seconds after Sandra spotted Tom—she also caught sight of another figure approaching from the darkness.

Vulpes reached the top of the hill, eyeing the insane man and slowly drawing nearer, giving Tom a long, wary stare.

Tom spun around and jumped when he spotted Vulpes, inhaling a sharp gasp and gripping his rifle viselike.

Vulpes maintained his calm demeanor—though he instantly raised his hands, appearing as nonthreatening as possible.

"Easy," Vulpes said smoothly, meeting Tom's maddened hazel stare. "I'm not your enemy. I'm here to help you."

"How the fuck do I know that? Huh?!" Tom snarled, taking a wide step closer—but he hadn't yet aimed his gun at Vulpes, a good sign. "You're with the whore aren't you?!"

"No," Vulpes said, keeping his hands raised and giving Tom a calming sort of look. "I'm actually… quite a lot like you."

Tom raised and lowered his rifle several times, shooting Vulpes a bizarre stare and appearing utterly conflicted. "What the fuck does that mean…?!"

"A defector," Vulpes told him somberly. "Or, rather… an outcast, a soldier with exceptional skill who was thrown aside for no good reason. A damn waste. It's a damn waste of our skills, isn't it? Just to be thrown aside like nothing over one minor flaw, or one simple mistake…"

"You NCR?" Tom barked, jabbing his gun at him.

Vulpes gulped roughly. "I… was. Formally. Just like you. I heard all about you… and I figured, with my connections beyond the republic, and with your exceptional skill out here… we could work out a profitable deal."

Tom glared at him for several seconds that seemed to stretch on for years—Sandra and her friends watching anxiously from above, Vulpes keeping his hands held high and his eyes locked on Tom's, awaiting a response.

Then, finally, he lowered his rifle by his side.

"Tell me more," Tom said, this time much less belligerently.

Vulpes lowered his hands slightly, but only a few inches, taking a small step closer.

"A supply line… a damn profitable one," Vulpes smirked, cocking his head and giving Tom a tempting visage. "With my friends up north, a semi-legal business of selling and transporting 'found' goods… I believe you and I can fill one another's pockets quite well. With all the goods you've stolen from your looted caravans… you'd have plenty to offer. You give some of your stock to me… and you'll be paid in full, plus an obtainer's fee. You'll make more off it than you are now, for certain."

As he explained, he carefully inched closer to Tom with every word, maintaining eye contact and widening his charming spy smirk.

Tom froze, his expression riddled with heavy thought.

Vulpes stopped, now only about two feet away from him, his hands halfway lowered—Sandra and the others could make their move any minute, but he hoped he could disarm Tom beforehand, eliminating the possibility of wounds or casualties.

After what felt like an eternity, Tom finally replied.

"I have a family," he uttered softly.

"And they'll never be without food on the table again," Vulpes assured with confidence. "You have my word, Mr. Quigly."

Tom gazed into him with a face stricken with perturbation. Then, he sighed and hung his head, planting his face in his palm—

Vulpes shot forward and swept a leg beneath him—making Tom fall hard to his back. Vulpes dove down and seized the rifle, wrestling it from his grasp with some difficulty—

Sandra leaped into action without any thought—she slid down the dirt hill on her back, her duster riling up behind her body as she soared downward. Her boots connected with a big rock and brought her to an abrupt stop—she jumped forward and perched her shotgun atop the rock, aiming at Tom and Vulpes.

Vulpes just managed to pitch Tom's rifle down the hill with all his might—Tom now enraged and hollering madly as he fought against his attacker—

"Move!" Sandra yelled.

Vulpes glanced at her—then staggered back and distanced himself from Tom's flailing and punching state—

Tom barely stumbled to his feet when—

BANG.

Vulpes stood directly before the man as his head exploded into a sickening mess of bone and red mist, his body crumbling awkwardly to the ground, now lying headless and lifelessly beside his crackling campfire.

There was a tense silence following the altercation, Vulpes staring vacantly down at the corpse, Sandra slowly standing upright and approaching him. Arcade and Niner climbed their way down the hill, and for a moment, the four of them merely observed the lopsided corpse at their feet.

Sandra let out a stressed cloud of breath, feeling a bit of nausea creeping up on her.

"I didn't think this kind of guy would have a family," she murmured darkly.

Vulpes spared her a glimpse, Niner scoffing and shaking his head.

"Guy was attacking random innocent people on the daily," Niner remarked dismissively. "He had it comin' if you ask me."

"Fair point," Arcade mumbled. "I'm sure his family will get by without him. His insanity wasn't repairable, so… morbid as it is… this was the best outcome for everyone involved, sadly enough."

Sandra nodded with silent agreement, though it still disturbed her. But nevertheless, just as Arcade said, this was the best outcome possible for a demented man like Tom Quigly. So, she inhaled deeply and slid the combat knife from Niner's belt, kneeling before the corpse and grasping Tom's wrist, gritting her teeth as she pressed the blade into the base of his index finger—in one disgusting chomp, she severed the bloody finger from his body, slid the finger into the pocket of her duster, and stood fully upright once more.

Niner and Arcade were still gazing solemnly at the body, Vulpes giving Sandra a profound stare from behind. Then, Vulpes sighed and marched away, strolling down the hill and vanishing from the campsite. Everyone else stared after him questioningly—but he returned moments later, carrying the long scoped sniper rifle that belonged to Tom Quigly.

Vulpes marched up to Sandra, giving her a firm look and offering her the rifle.

Sandra narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't need that…"

"Yes, you do," Vulpes said flatly, jutting the rifle closer. "The only reason this elaborate plan became necessary is because none of us had a weapon like this. If any of us had a sniper rifle, we could've easily just killed the man from the parking lot. This will make the job much easier from now on."

Sandra and Vulpes stood before one another, Sandra giving the rifle a downtrodden and hesitant stare, Niner and Arcade both watching quietly from the sidelines.

"He used it to kill innocent people," Sandra murmured. "I don't…"

"Look at me," Vulpes said in a soft, yet demanding voice, his eyes burning a fiery blue. "This is not a job that has room for sentimentality. Taking every tool and every advantage you can is absolutely necessary in our endeavors. This weapon is a tool. Nothing more or less. It doesn't matter in the slightest what he did with it—what you do with it determines its worth now."

Sandra swallowed, gnawing her lip and slowly taking the rifle from him. It was of a unique design, and the wooden stock of the rifle was decorated with a swervy ingraining, a sleek design with a tiny phrase etched beneath it. In elegant cursive letters, the phrase read Ferguson Rifle.

"Okay," she decided, admiring the personalized design. "I guess… I guess it'll be cheaper than trying to buy a brand new sniper rifle. Money's gonna be tight for a little while now, so… it makes sense…"

"Exactly," Vulpes agreed with an affirming nod. "You think purely with logic, and you take every advantage you can get—that's how you stay ahead. Simple as that."

"Yeah… I get it," Sandra told him. "But I'm only gonna think that way when we're on the job. I need my sentimentality when we're off-duty. I don't wanna get heartless doing this."

Vulpes stared thoughtfully into her. "You don't wanna become like me, you mean."

Sandra opened her mouth to reply, then let out a laugh. "Well… you said it, not me."

Vulpes's eyes narrowed intently at her—and if Sandra wasn't imagining it, she might've spotted the faintest hint of a smirk flash across his visage.

"Well… all right. We're done here," Vulpes concluded, stepping past Sandra and giving the campsite a final once-over. "Let's move this along, now. I'd like to get back to my nap."

Sandra and Niner took a moment to search Quigly's corpse and his half-empty duffel bag. After pocketing a few loose items, the four of them set off, Sandra feeling a bizarre mixture of things—but strangely and most notably, a sense of pride, as her first bounty hunt had finished seamlessly with success.

This night marked the beginning of a long and perilous journey for the courier-turned-bounty hunter, and she couldn't have known the depths of dangerous adventure that now awaited her.