When the stalker had brought the ghoul to safety, he was alone in the world. What he needed to do was try to make his way to Camp Golf and learn what was needed to be done about Mr. House. Artyom could not trust him, especially when he was asked to clash against the Order. He owed the Spartan Order so much and it was just wrong to do so. That man should have known better than to simply trust a foreigner who put so much stock into the peacekeeping organization.

Walking underneath the shadow of the broken highways made him feel small, but it often reminded him of what this world could have been if nuclear war had not destroyed this place. Despite the sorrow that came with it, the young man simply ignored them and went on his way to the south.

It should have been a simple walk, but the stalker could still sense that somebody was watching him. Now it could not have been the Legion as they assured him that he would be safe if he still had this mark of Caesar. However, the gut feeling in his stomach had made him feel… endangered.

A hot red beam had flew past his head, forcing him to turn around and face his assailant. The problem was that there wasn't just one attacker. "You goddamn idiot, you gave away our position!" A dark-skinned man shouted to one of his fellow comrades. "Bring this fucker in, we can't keep Gloria waiting!"

Without hesitation, Artyom drew his Kalashnikov and started firing his weapon. The gunshots were enough to force the seven heavily armed ambushers to drop to the ground. Meanwhile, he took the opportunity to step back and still keep a good focus on his targets. A quick burst of hand-made bullets escaped from Bourbon's rifle and struck one of the energy weapon-wielding enemies in the head. Perhaps the only blessing he could see out this situation was the fact that they didn't wear helmets.

Then the six attackers pressed forward with unrelenting firepower while the young man took refuge behind a pillar of a broken highway. He tried his best to suppress them, but it was difficult when he didn't have anybody to watch his back. Maybe the Dark Ones would intervene on his behalf like before or maybe they want him to do most of the work all by himself.

When his magazine was emptied, he began to search for more ammo, but there was no magazine left for him to use. Artyom was out of ammo. Still, he did have enough ball-bearings for his pneumatic weapon. Bringing the weapon out, he leaned his head out from the right side of the pillar, only to see three of the hostiles present. The other half must have been going on the other side. As he lined up his sights, the young man waited for one of his targets to get in range as the pillar received splashes of plasma or laser fire. With the pull of the trigger, the stalker watched one of the armored men get knocked back by the forceful impact of his weapon. Then he tapped two more times, only to find his target's head feel the worst pain he could receive.

Now that they were down by a man, he had to secure the other side. As he tried to repeat the same success on the right side, one of the assailants surprised him by ripping the weapon out of his arms. "Shit!" He swore to himself while drawing his knife onto his enemy. Despite removing the weapon out of his control, Artyom took the opportunity to slash at the man's exposed clothing, leaving the man in bleeding scars. His screaming came to an end when he pulled out his auto pistol and shot him in the back of the head.

Then he heard the leader of his people express his frustration. "Motherfucker, you guys can't even stop one person! Get your shit together."

The sounds of footsteps was coming from the opposite side of the pillar, but instead of a person there was a strange green ball-like object that landed near his position. Out of the need to protect himself, the dead man's body became his shield when he felt a strong heat-wave throw him onto the ground. Yet, he could still feel the burning sensation around his body. What was that grenade made out of?

While he groaned, one of the men charged towards him with his laser rifle in hand, but Artyom raised his pistol and emptied his entire magazine into him. Despite the armor protecting his body, the man's lack of a helmet was his downfall. His efforts came to naught when another enemy ran up to him while he tried to pry the burning body off himself. In a single moment, he was met with a boot.

"Get up!" Shouted an angry man when Artyom was awakened by a boot to the gut. The young man writhed in pain as his arms began to cover his stomach. Then a fist found its mark on his face. "That's for killing my men, asshole."

When he looked up, he saw the armored dark-skinned man looking down on him with his energy weapon aimed at him. However, he stepped aside when a lithe figure with a shaved head had arrived to see him. "Jean-Baptiste, perhaps you shouldn't have open fired on him. A talk would have been good enough."

"He's working with our competition, can't leave no mercy that sort, ma'am."

She expressed a small smile. "Well, you did bring him to me… alive. Even though you had options."

Artyom looked around to find himself out of the desert environment and into an air-conditioned room. Yet, he found himself sitting on the ground beside burnt mannequins while the other side of the room had dozens of armed guards standing beside a whole assortment of advanced weapons. "Where am I?" Was his question.

Jean Baptiste was… dissatisfied with his response. "You don't get to ask the questions!"

His assertive control was immediately gone when he saw the glare of his superior. "Jean-Baptiste, lower your voice. I want to have a word with our guest." The woman approached him with a plasma pistol in hand. "However, he is right in one regard. You are currently on Van Graff grounds. Don't think you can run away from us, it will only give my men the excuse they need to kill their boredom. Now you wouldn't want that now, do you?"

"What the hell do you want with me?" The Russian asked as his back was pressed against the wall.

"It's not you we're after. Are you familiar with the Rose of Sharon Cassidy?"

"Cass?"

"Oh, so you do know her? Why don't you tell us where she is so we can let you go and be on our merry way of getting rid of competition." The woman demanded of him.

Were it so easy, he would have, but a stalker's trust was not something that could be traded away on a whim. Thankfully, his answer was clear. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" A moment later, Artyom felt his left arm endure a painful session as he looked to see the damage done. While he gritted his teeth, the woman looked down on him with a disapproving nod. "I hope that does help you remember."

"I really don't know!" The young man stated. "The last time we met was at the Lucky 38, but that was a while ago."

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but one thing is clear you're going to tell us where this red-headed bitch is one way or another." Then she looked at one of the men beside the table of energy weapons. "Get the incinerator, perhaps the pain might make you talk."

"Understood, ma'am." Acknowledged one of the guards as he smiled with glee. He slowly approached the stalker with this long protruding weapon that spewed fire from the top. "Alright kid, start talking or I'm barbecuing you."

He was terrified of the prospect of being roasted alive. No, his journey couldn't have ended like this. Artyom didn't survive the horrible things in the Mojave just to die in this wretched place - surrounded by strangers who would gladly kill him on the spot. It just could not be this way.

Past the noise of the flames and the cheers of the Van Graff guards, a loud knocking had echoed into the room. This time, the woman who interrogated Artyom was annoyed by the interruption. "What is it?" She demanded. "What is so important for you that you can't turn away a customer away?"

The doors to the building had moaned open as a terrified man spoke up. "Gloria, this ain't no customer." He paused for a moment, allowing Artyom to turn his head to see a bald black man swipe the sweat from his brow.

"Who is it?"

In a single moment, the stalker recognized the voice through the speakers. "The ruler of New Vegas dear." Replied the mysterious Mr. House.

When his eyes looked upon the doorway, there were five Securitrons that were confronted by Gloria Van Graff. "Normally, Securitrons are not usually found running around in Freeside. What brings you out here?" She asked.

"Simple. I have no quarrel with you, but I am here to pick up my employee." The robotic voice answered.

"This man works for you? He's a goddamn foreigner." Commented Jean Baptiste.

"He is also far better talented than the rest of you lot. Wasting your potential selling hand-me-downs." Mr. House remarked, only to agitate the man.

"Listen here." Gloria began, grabbing his attention. "Perhaps we can make a deal-"

Not a moment too soon, the Securitrons presented their weapons without hesitation. "This is not a suggestion. You will hand over my employee or I will do it by force. Don't think I'm not aware of what goes on beyond the walls of the Strip for the House always wins."

"Us Van Graffs will not forget this."

"No, you will not. In fact, you should be honored to be in my presence. Not many ever get the opportunity to meet the man who certainly has every right to remove you from my city." Stated Mr. House.

"Jean-Baptiste, get the man up and let him go."

The heavily armored thug walked over to the wounded stalker as he pulled him off the ground and escorted him into the group of robots. "Thank you, but I do hope a lesson is earned about me."

"What would that be?"

"I am not a man who should be crossed. Farewell, Gloria Van Graff."

Artyom followed these machines while he tried to cover up the burns from that heated shot. The searing pain that was reported to the rest of his body was unbearable. "Ah, this is going get worse if I don't get any help."

One of the Securitrons turned around, but revealed the face of the New Vegas ruler. "Now to business, the first thing I want to know is why didn't you stop the NCR-Brotherhood negotiations? Were my orders not clear enough?"

"No, they were clear, but I didn't want to." It was a bold statement that he said to his supposed superior.

"Excuse me? You did not want to? Did you fall in love with the Brotherhood's ideals or did you accept the ignorance that democracy is a right for everyone in the wasteland?" The man's voice demanded. "Answer me?!"

"The negotiations… they were being overlooked by the Polis Rangers… I didn't want to become their enemies."

"Do you understand how much you failed me? This was one step towards my city and you threw it all because of your feelings for this organization."

"Hell with your city, I'm done working for you. The only reason I entered that building was to get my assault rifle back. Not to be in this line of work." A small silence fell in the streets of Freeside.

"Yes, you only came here for a mere trinket, but without my help you wouldn't got your hands on it in the first place. Without my help, I would have simply left you to die in some meaningless town called Goodsprings." If that didn't suggest he angered the man in charge, it was certainly now. "My patience is growing very thin and I am being very lenient with you. After all, you owe your existence to me - Mr. House of New Vegas. Understand that what I do is for the future of my city and by extension - humanity." The business man stated. "This is an opportunity few will ever receive from me. Consider your choices carefully."

Artyom's eyes glanced over to the surrounding area to see if their conversation was going to be heard by anybody in the city. "Mr. House, I am thankful that you have helped me, but you're asking to go against people I trust. The Polis Rangers saved my people and undermining their duties would only ruin my admiration for them."

"I see. Very well then… you are no longer any use to me." The Securitron that Mr. House was using had brought it's arm from its side and aimed it's barrel towards him. "Considered your contract, terminated." One shot echoed throughout the streets as Artyom stumbled back at the impact of the sub-machine gun round.

It was to the young man's surprise that he was alive at all.

"So you're alive? I should have suspected there was more to that armor than to carry your weapons." He noted. "Nevertheless, these units have enough ammunition."

The first thing on his mind was to flee for his life. "Bozhe moi!" He swore to himself as he ran into the crowd of people while the Securitrons chased after him.

Freeside's streets were filled with chaos. Patrols of Securitrons had cleared the streets with each unit demanding that they find a man who was now the enemy of Mr. House. For many who lived in his shadow, it was a surprise to know that their leader was still active. For the King, he felt that the man was stepping over his rights. However, there was little his men could do against robots that were armed with machine guns. His supporters came to him, giving him rumors that Mr. House was looking for someone who pissed him off. Whoever that was, he held plenty of pity for the poor guy.

The King was walking with his entourage of bodyguards, but to offset the faces of mankind he had a dog following him. Well… a strange version of man's best friend. The cyberdog walked beside his master while it pant happily in his presence. Despite his appearance, Rex raised the morale of the Kings whenever he was around until now. There was something wrong with the cyberdog. Although he would love to get some help, nobody in his group knew what to do given the technology made for the creature.

When he approached the doors of the Old Mormon Fort, the King looked at his men and addressed them. "Everyone, remember to show some respect to the Followers. I don't want another incident like last time." The majority of his people had nodded their head at his advice before they walked through the doors.

Upon entering the ancient perimeter, the Kings were met by a wall of sandbags and a group of mercenaries manning their positions. "It's okay, I'm looking for Julie Farkas."

One of the mercenaries nodded. "Alright, you can go through."

The party walked through the small condensed strip of land while those who dwell within these walls had nodded and acknowledged the King's presence. Most of these people were his own citizens who looked up to them to deal with outside matters such as the NCR. As he walked past the tents, the patients of the Followers had smiled from their mattresses until he stumbled upon one tent. Then he recognized the woman's distinct hair style when she came out. "Julie? I need your help."

The woman in the white lab coat had looked over her shoulder and spoke up. "Arcade, do you think you can nurse him back to health?" She asked.

The King looked past her, only to see another Follower of the Apocalypse have a doctor's bag beside him. "Don't worry about him, I can handle it."

"Alright, what do you need?" Julie wondered.

"Something is wrong with Rex and I'm sure your people know a thing or two about his stuff than I do."

She knelt towards the dog to see the creature lick her face. "Are you sure there is something wrong with him?"

"Yeah, every now and then he's acting up and whimpering - like something is hurting him."

"Arcade?"

The doctor removed his tools from the wounded man in the strange uniform and glanced at the Rex. "Now I certainly don't know how to help your cyberdog out, but I do know someone who can."

"You do?" The King asked. "Mind telling me where my boys can find him?"

Arcade shook his head. "He likes his privacy, but I can bring Rex along and try to check him out." Then he turned his head towards the wounded man. "Along with this guy."

"Who is he?"

"Someone House has been looking for. I'm going to see if I can get him away from this place before the Securitrons put any more nine millimeters in him." The doctor replied. "Don't worry, I'll see what Rex is diagnosed with along the way."

Happy with the results, he smiled and acknowledged his suggestion with a nod. "Okay Rex, go with the the big strong doctor. He's going to need your help more than he does."

Marcus remained vigilant in his duty to protect Jacobstown from the humans who hated his kind. Tiresome as it was, it kept the rest of his kin from doing something stupid while it allowed a human doctor to help the Nightkin deal with their schizophrenia. The super mutant knew that this duty had its boring moments, but the pain was worth the peace - even for a moment. Most humans wouldn't have known anything about this place; however, the New California Republic did and they occasionally sent squads of mercenaries into these hills just to lower his people's numbers. Thankfully, being a former lieutenant of a great army a long time ago had taught him that negotiation and having a good eye was useful.

His thoughts ended when he noticed several figures in the distance - did the NCR send more mercenaries after the previous group? Upon further inspection, he was greatly mistaken when he recognized the labcoat of the Followers of the Apocalypse and familiar armor. A cyberdog followed after them, but as they approached him he recognized their faces. Odd how people met sometimes. "Dr. Gannon, it's good to see you again. What brings you to Jacobstown with this young man?"

The Follower smiled while he walked beside the Russian. "I need to see Dr. Henry. He might know a thing or two about cyberdogs more than I. As for my patient, Mr. House is hunting him down in New Vegas and I decided to bring him up here for safekeeping until he can stand on his two feet again."

"I take that you didn't have problems with the cazadors?" Marcus wondered.

"I didn't have to worry about them. Rex is quite capable of handling them than I expected." The doctor answered. "Is there a bed I can use?"

"Yes, follow me. There should be a room for this man. I do hope he survives his wounds. He did me a great favor." He replied.

"How do you know this guy?"

"We met at Black Mountain after he spoke with the Brotherhood while they were negotiating with the NCR."

"Great, I might have painted a target on my back for running around with a political enemy of House." Gannon commented.

A small laugh was all the super mutant could offer. "Indeed, but I hardly doubt he will ever turn his eyes on a place such as this."

Camp Golf had become a beacon of activity for those in the camp. The Rose of Sharon Cassidy had listened onto her Pip-Boy that the arrival of the Russians was starting to change the Mojave for the better. Hopefully, the trading would have improved because of that, but to see genuine Russian soldiers in the same camp as NCR soldiers was surprising. She had once slept with a soldier once and he told her that Camp Golf was considered a place where careers go to die if one was not a Ranger.

Being in Pavel's company was fun - hard to ignore the comedy of a communist officer who had a strange sense of humor. That being said, he ran off to help some poor squad fix the simple fact that they couldn't aim for shit on the firing range. Alone at last, all she could do was sip whiskey off a bench and watch soldiers go to and fro. As she looked down from the hill, she noticed an old man on her left brewing a teapot above a fire. For an old man, he seemed resourceful.

Her time with Artyom had told her that they enjoyed tea as much as their moonshine, perhaps they might some of the stuff that her companion was capable of creating. She rose up from her seat and walked up to the old man by the fire. "Hi, are you making mushroom tea?"

The stranger seemed surprised by her question. "How do you know about my Exhibition tea?"

She sat down on the ground across from him. "A friend made some for me whenever I make moonshine."

He expressed a smile. "I see. What was his name?"

"Artyom."

The old man was frozen in place, his face drained of blood. "How do you know that name?"

"You know him?" Cass asked with wonder.

He nodded his head. "Yes, he is my boy."

Author's Note: Finally! I'm quite happy that I managed to get to this point of the story arc - especially with that scene in the end. Now the plot can move from this point on.

iloveTanks: I have already seen the video. Next time, please post an actual review.

Aren serathy: Yeah, he's kinda up there with Lily and Rex. Good characters, but they don't really make good companions.