[ Sorry for the disappearance. Life has been... well, life. ]

"Dear god, I'm... sorry about your loss.

Even she could understand how amazingly and annoyingly useless those words were, staring into the sunglasses-covered face of the sniper. No matter how sincere - and they rarely were - the words were, they didn't exactly bring back towns, restore limbs, or... well, in this particular situation, bring wives back from slavers. Still, it was all she had to offer: she felt a tad too new to the area to offer the man some kind of drink, and... she wasn't exactly sure how one could proceed in this type of conversation. She'd gotten bad news from friends, sure, but this man was practically a stranger. A name, an occupation and a very fancy beret were the only pieces of information she had that described him in the slightest.

Of course, that wasn't the main cause of her guilt. No, that would be the small, lightly-scratched holotape located safely in one of the inside pockets of her coat. A holotape that told her exactly where to go, and one that she'd obtained in a less-than-kind manner. It was wrong, yes, but she'd been shot. A small bit of theft seemed light, in comparison to what she'd gone through. Sort of like karmic balance, right? Assuming that shooting those Legion bastards hadn't counted for that earlier, and... well, she could worry about it later. The sniper - Boone, as he'd introduced himself - fortunately brought her back to reality.

"It's in the pass, now. But... might have something for you, if you're interested. Job"

A job. She'd have preferred to have an offer of travelling along, maybe - even with the brief period of time she'd spent in this town, people had been practically celebrating the skill of their two snipers - but there was something about the glint in his eye. Was that a plan coming together, or something closer to hope? She shrugged, before firmly nodding. She could stay here for a small while longer.

"Good. The one who sold my wife to the legion... they live here. Had to. Ca-My wife was the only victim, and those bastards knew exactly what route I wouldn't be watching. Knew when I'd be rotating shifts. Took them minutes."

The man's expression seemed to become a sort of reminiscent silent fury. That was it, then. Did he feel guilty, that he should have... somehow saved her? Was that what he was hoping to do? She was about to speak up and ask about what the job actually was, before deciding against it at the last second. It was that same feeling of almost-bloodlust-like desire to just restlessly walk to Boulder City and kill that checker-suited fuck with nothing but a piece of rebar and... right. Present moment. Concentration.

"They haven't left town, either. It's one of the people in this town. Any one of them. None of them will look me in the eye and give me an answer, but you're new. Keep this conversation between us, and they'll trust you well enough. Here. The signal. Wear it, bring them out in front of the dinosaur... I'll get it done."

He moved to take off his beret, offering it to me. The dark-red fabric was well-worn, looking like it had been through hell and back, but the golden letters spelling out "The last thing you never see" was written on it. As far as mottos for groups of elite snipers went, that had to be pretty high up there in terms of how fantastic it sounded. Guess that proved the sharpshooting skills that she'd heard of, anyways. She finished examining it, moving it to a pocket before looking up to speak to the man... only to find him back in his previous position, as silent and solemn as a statue with a rifle.

. . .

Maya hated this town. Sure, sure, they'd probably raise their brows and laugh if she brought it up - she was a whole "walk the wastes" courier type, right? - but she could never tolerate these small towns for long. She came from a city, and she'd been promised the greatest city of all here... so, here she was. Moving from one wooden-house town to another. At least Goodsprings managed to gain some points on her location rating scale, on lieu of the whole cheating death thing she'd gone through. Here, however? She was tempted to lead all of them in front of that purple dinosaur, and see just how fast Boone could fire. Novac had that unique feeling only present in hospitals and - she imagined - special forces barracks. Pure, unfiltered passive-aggressive elitism. The local insane man, of all people, had been the most helpful. Well, in a manner of speaking. All he'd really confirmed was that it may have been mole people who dug into the lobby and stole her, but that was better than the practiced bullshit the others had given her.

She opened the notes function within the Pip-Boy, adding another "x" next to the last name - Ada Straus - and considering just crashing for the - wait. Wait... wait. She'd gotten almost nothing out of anyone - except for the fact that almost everyone disliked Carla - but... she'd heard some fancy quote, sometime back. Probably one of the historians she'd known back in Cali, but... something about a glimmer of truth in the ramblings of an insane man, right? Mole people who dug into the lobby... into the lobby. The lobby. Maya spun around on one foot, racing towards the hotel, slowing down just in time to see the old lady who owned it sitting on a bench outside, watching the sunset. She moved stealthily towards the door, pushing it open and thanking the fact that it didn't squeak.

She'd been in here before, of course, when she'd gotten a room to stay at, but it felt rather different, now. She felt like she didn't belong here, that someone was about to barge in and demand why she was in this very public location. No point concentrating on that now: she had to think. If they went into the lobby... that either meant they had some kind of exit here, or they were speaking to someone. Boone had mentioned no casualties, so that couldn't be it. The room was bland and open: there were no hiding places for some kind of passage, except... behind the desk. She couldn't check outside, now. It would take too much time, meaning she'd simply have to pray that Crawford was very committed to her sunset watching. She crouched, moving behind the desk... before immediately sighing in frustration.

If it had been some kind of secret motion-triggered turret, she wouldn't have minded. Sure, she'd probably end up a corpse but she'd at least be a corpse in a decent mood. Instead... it was this bullshit. A safe. These were a pain to deal with, nearly always. Still, o point putting it off, now. Maya took out a bobby pin from a pocket, kneeling down over the safe. Placing the bobby pin inside, she began to turn ever-so-slightly to the right... and the safe door enthusiastically popped open, inviting her. What the fuck? Just what kind of half-broken discount safe had this woman gone for? Her reward was inside, either way. A holo-tape. Quickly snatching it and closing the safe with her hands, she stood up, making her way over to a chair in the lobby. She'd just look like someone checking their Pip-Boy, hopefully.

A finger hovering over the "play" button, she ultimately decided against it. Still the chance of someone walking in. Instead, she opted for turning the knob a few times, opening the transcript screen, and began reading. Her expression was one of shock, slowly refining itself into rage. One phrase stood out in particular. A simple one, that stood out amongst the prices and contractual terms.

Her unborn child.

A child. It wasn't just the wife, it was... the child in her. That's what they'd been buying for a fifty percent bonus. That was what Crawford had been selling. A woman and her child. Her hand instinctively went for the ten millimeter on her hip. Blow out her fucking legs. Drag her to where Boone is waiting, and let him have the final shot. Would she beg? Realise what it was about? Would she have to play that tape to remind the bitch what she-

"Oh, there you are, dear. Can I do something for you?"

Her hand snapped back from the gun, though it seemed that the old woman hadn't noticed. Standing in the doorway, she looked as innocent and calm as ever. Just a lovely old woman running a motel in a small town. Still, she could act along, too. Too many questions if she just acted here... and Boone had the rights to revenge of his choice. Instead, she gave her a forced smile, nodding.

"Miss Crawford! I'm sorry to bother you late, I was just actually hoping to run into you. It's nothing too big, but... could you come take a look at something? Just in front of the dinosaur. I'm not exactly too certain about structural stability, but this could..."

Maya trailed off as she walked out of the doorway. A good way to get people to follow you was to avoid ending the conversation. This way, she'd either be following her out of her own free will, or to tell her that she wasn't going to be following her. All she had to do was stay in front of the old woman, which wasn't exactly hard. In fact, she arrived in front of the dinosaur before Crawford had even approached it. As the woman finally did, Maya smiled, pulling out the beret and carefully putting it on. There was a look of surprise from the old woman for but a moment, as she opened her mouth to speak. She never got the chance to close it.

Blood splattered everywhere, staining the ground, a few drops landing on her clothing. The old woman's head had simply... exploded. The stump of a neck connected to a body that was growing cold, spurting blood, was all that remained of Jeannie May Crawford, slaver and motel owner. Carefully stepping away from the body, Maya tried to wipe the image of loose pieces of gore and bone from her mind, backing away and looking up at the sniper. He gave her something that could have passed for a reassuring nod, along with a brief gesture that involved tapping the top of his head. It took her a second, before she realised he was either showing off how lovely his headshot was, or asking for his beret back. Just in case, she obliged, taking it off and moving towards the entrance to the dinosaur.

She fought back a small smile. Maya wasn't happy about seeing the body, of course, but... there was a feeling of some primal satisfaction, at having found out the slaver. Gotten a man his chance at revenge, and made just that one microscopic dent against the Legion. Anything to bring back the memory of the way that dog-hat-wearing fucker's expression changing from smug confidence to brief panic was well worth it. Plus, she had an ally who was capable enough at handling a rifle. Would he be willing to travel with her, perhaps? As far as Vegas, anyways. It'd stop the amount of times she was shot at, especially since ED-E still lay inside a hotel room, refusing to do anything but play his little jingle. Maybe... could she hold the beret hostage in return for him sticking with her? Pushing open the door to the dino, her smile grew a bit. It was the little things that counted.