A Stealthy Operation

I was doing my usual thing of standing with the Shark Club entrance posse when Vincent approached me from the casino floor...

I gotta quickly explain something.

One of the various operations under Bishops control was a place southeast of Wright's territory called "The Chop Shop." The Chop Shop was a scrapyard outside of the Tourist Trap that was operated by a guy named "T-Ray." The Tourist Trap between Virgin and 2nd Street used to be littered with old blasted out cars left over from the nuclear war until the Bishops tried to tidy the place up in an effort to attract more tourists. So, several years ago when the Shark Club was getting renovated, Mr. Bishop employed a group of salvagers to rid the street of car husks under that T-Ray guy. They hauled the cars to that old garage, and when the job was done; T-Ray's guys started stripping the old vehicles for scrap. It turned out to be a fairly profitable operation, so Mr. Bishop kept the "Mechanics" on his payroll. So, that was one of the Bishop Family's independent money-making schemes, stripping old cars for parts to sell to scavengers... Anyway, that day Vince approached me on the job to give another special assignment.

Vincent lit a cigarette and leaned on the wall next to me. He asked idly, "You catch that fight the other night?"

I leaned back on the wall as well and said, "Yeah, Sophia and I caught it… Can't believe some little fuck from the wastes took out our boy, Mike."

Vincent raised the cigarette to his lips and nodded, "Tell me about it, who'da thought. You heard anything about that fuckin guy?"

I shrugged, "Nope, not really. Heard he might get caught up with the Corsican Brothers at the Golden Globes after that fight though."

He let out a slight chuckle and said, "I'd watch it, Ha. But I aint heard much either, aside from a few rumors. Word around town is that he's been doing jobs for the Mordinos, Salvatores, and Wrights. Even Mr. Bishop is said to have had a run in with the guy about some shit."

I asked, "What's his game?"

He slowly shook his head from side to side with a confused expression as he said, "No fuckin idea. I even heard that the guy's been buying weird shit from Renesco's Pharmacy, talkin with Father Tully, and digging up graves in Golgotha…"

I looked out at the busy street and said, "What a fuckin psycho…"

He chuckled again, "You said it, brother. That aint what I'm out here for though…"

He paused for a moment and asked, "You seen that car that came into town?"

I raised an eyebrow, "What? A car just 'came into town?'..."

He nodded and I asked, "What are you talking about?"

He took a drag, "Some wasteland fuck came into town a few days ago with a working car; I shit you not."

I said, "You aint serious? Nobody's seen a working car in years! How come I hadn't heard about this?"

He nodded his head, "Dead serious. And yeah, I never seen one before either. Anyways, some wastelander fuck drove into town like it was any other day from the east. Apparently, the guy's been staying in New Reno for a few days and that car is sitting in the old lot south of the Reno Archway…"

I asked out of curiosity, "You think it's that 'Chosen One' Asshole's car? What kind of car is it?"

He said, "No fuckin idea if it's his. Wouldn't be surprised though, with all the weird shit that fuck's been up to. But, it's an old Chryslus Highwayman, same year the bombs dropped. Looks brand new."

He looked up at me with a grin, "Get this; Mr. Bishop wants it… Gonna have T-Ray take a look at it, see what makes it work and maybe deck it out."

I said with an uneasy laugh, "So, what's the deal?"

He smiled even bigger, "Mr. Bishop put me on the job as soon as he caught wind. Had me reading old auto manuals all day yesterday to take it over to T-Ray… You're on the job too."

I asked, "Me? I don't know anything about mechanics or old cars? I never even seen a working car?..."

I paused, "Except maybe that ghost truck?..." Vince looked at me puzzled but I quickly added, "Why can't T-Ray's guys take care of it?"

He said, "T-Ray's guys are clearing room for it in their garage. But don't worry about the tech and bullshit, I got that covered. I just need you to steer the thing while me and Tom push it."

I said, "I've never steered a car?"

He responded, "You think I have? We'll figure it out. We just gotta move that thing before the waster gets wise and skips town. We can't start the thing without a special key, but after going over the old manuals I figured out how to override the controls. I should be able to put it in 'neutral' and that should allow us to push the thing…"

I thought briefly as he finished his cigarette and said, "Alright, what's the plan?"

He gave a brief description of the plan. "You, me, and Tom are gonna push the thing over to T-Ray after I put the thing in neutral. You know Jules, right?"

I nodded and responded, "Yeah. Idiot chem pusher on Virgin Street, right?"

He continued, "Yeah. That guy owes Mr. Bishop a favor, and is gonna steer traffic away from what we're doing… Hopefully he can manage that, and shut any witnesses up. That guy is pretty retarded though…"

He elaborated a little more, but then the two of us hurried up to the employee level and changed into some inconspicuous attire. Then, Vincent ran off to fetch Tom (another towering thug). Changing out of my suit, I got into some of my old wastelander gear and met the others downstairs. We walked towards the Reno Archway sticking to the crowds and eventually reached the old parking lot. Sitting in the middle of the sun-bleached asphalt lot was a glimmering fully restored car with a dull black paint job. There were a few wastelanders looking over the thing and wondering if it actually worked. The three of us approached, holding guns to them, and saying to, "Git!" The mid-day streets of New Reno were fairly vacant, with the only real activity being a long caravan walking towards the sign. Vincent jimmied the door open and had Tom and I keep watch.

I surveyed the area looking for any approaching people and shouted back at Vince, "Hey! Any idea what the owner looks like!? Anything!?"

Vincent was half inside the car working on the internals, but I heard him say, "No idea! But anyone gets too close; whack'em! Especially if it's that 'Chosen Asshole'!"

The lot was empty, but people were going about their business closer to the sign. The Cat's Paw was a half mile to the east and there were distant people milling around it. Nobody approached, no scavers, tourists, hookers, or psychos in blue jumpsuits. A few minutes later, Vince shouted, "Alright Boys! We're clear! Let's hurry this up!"

We took our places. Vincent and Tom took the back and I took the driver's side door. I pushed, but we started veering to the north and Vince shouted, "Turn that wheel to the right! We're taking it around the Cat's Paw, don't get too close to the sign!"

I turned the wheel so that we were headed around the less populated south side of the brothel. Only a few feet from where we started, the tires landed in a crevice of the chipping lot. I shouted profanities and knew we were attracting attention from the distant people just by moving the thing. Vincent and Tom pushed and pushed until something malfunctioned in one of the rear wheels, and it made a deafening screech as we lifted it from the crevice. Somehow, one of the wheels locked up and the rear tires skidded as we pushed it, leaving a faint trail in the sun-bleached lot. Despite the setback, we picked up the pace and I very quickly got the hang of steering the thing. We started gathering speed and I steered us in the right direction while I heard the slight creak of the rear tires that appeared to echo throughout the whole city.

This was by no means a "Stealthy Operation." Getting closer to the populated main street, I felt the gaze of tourists, prostitutes, junkies, traders, scrappers, and Mordino thugs from the distance. I felt like all the eyes in town were on us, most certainly: the owner's. People watched from the distance, but as my sweat from the midday sun trickled down my face, I saw a dirty New Reno street kid staring at us from only a few yards away. I was ready to shout the child away when I saw "Jules" the chem pusher grab the kid by the collar and haul him towards The Cat's Paw.

Thirty minutes later, we were past the main street, behind The Cat's Paw, out of sight, and maneuvering around the outskirts of town. Despite being out of sight from the general public, I still felt like eyes were watching us. For some reason, I couldn't shake the idea of that kid following us, but I knew that Jules would make sure the kid didn't talk. Last thing we needed was a dirty New Reno street kid spreading word about our task since most people who may have saw probably wouldn't care.

Another thirty minutes of pushing later and we reached the chipping paved road to the Chop Shop. We went past the gate towards the derelict gas pumps in the center. The racket consisted of offices that were connected to the big garage, and the husks of a hundred old cars dotted the area around it on the fringe of blasted out Reno.

It was around 3pm when we pulled in and T-Ray's mechanics took over. The team of dirtied up scavers in green mech suits gathered around to push it where they needed. The garage doors opened, and more mechanics joined to hurry it out of sight as the three of us caught our breath. Tom and I idled around while Vincent consulted with T-Ray about Bishop's orders and to detail what happened with the rear wheel. We sat on a bench next to the gas pumps and watched the crowds grow. T-Ray's guys had just started to prop the car up and work on that wheel problem when the garage doors shut, and I was focused on the distant crowd. Wrights territory was usually fairly empty, but I guess we gathered a lot of attention when we were moving the restored car.