Once David had left Lucky 38, an N.C.R. soldier stopped him in his tracks before he could even think about calling for Boone or Veronica; how the N.C.R. knew where or when David remained a mystery to him. He wasn't sure if they were spying on him. Though the stop 'n' chat was quick, he left David a note; it was a sealed envelope with a red stamp. He felt it was important.
David Wesker, I wish to speak with you immediately in regards to important matters.
I trust you have learned enough in your travels to know that the New California Republic is an honourable nation engaged in a benevolent mission In the Mojave in general and New Vegas in particular.
It is an addition to a wealthy nation that will reward persons who dedicate themselves for its national interests, whether for reasons patriotic or material. I stand ready to receive you at your earliest convenience in my offices at the New California Republic Embassy at the south side of the New Vegas strip.
God bless the New California Republic.
Dennis Crocker.
Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary.
Department of state, New California Republic.
"So the N.C.R. hopes to meet me in person, can't be a coincidence for them to find me here after talking with Mr House. What do they want with me?" David waved to Boone and Veronica. Boone was sat on the outside kerb waiting patiently. He was cleaning his rifle's barrel and polishing the scope's lens with Veronica behind him, pestering him as usual.
Veronica stood up to David. "Where are we heading, David?" she asked.
"The Tops."
"Nice. Can we do some gambling?"
"Later. I need to cash someone out first. You two just sit here; I'll be back."
Boone overheard David and Veronica though he never turned away from his rifle. "Whatever you say." He quietly mentioned, "Don't leave me with her alone for too long..."
The south side had two more casinos. The Ultra-Luxe, a well-funded, tailored and elegant gambling resort, the people seemed a bit reserved from the common rabble. Then there were the Tops, a classic casino for just about everyone; an all-around casino and hotel experience hosted by the Chairmen.
Upon entering, David was asked to hand over all of his ordnance and weaponry to the front desk. The Tops was an excellent looking place, with two vast areas with card tables and slots across all the sides and back. You could run laps without bumping into something; it had space.
A bar upstairs near an elevator with some choice entertainment inside was a hotspot. In the far back of the casino was a man in a white "daisy suit"; he stood with four men in white striped suits. Chairmen. Though not armoured and wielding small calibre handguns, starting a bloodbath wasn't the best way to handle things on Mr House's behalf. Negative publicity.
David had a choice between an easy bloody way that would cause a scene or a dull diplomatic approach with a daring exit. To deal with Benny, David went to see his underling Swank behind the front desk, perhaps for a tip or two. A gentleman in his mid-thirties with a clean suit as white as sin.
"Can you point me to Swank, please?"
"You're talking to him, pal. Welcome to the Tops; what can I do for you?"
"Mr House has hired me to deal with a problem he's having with Benny…"
"Really? So you just walk in saying you're working for Mr House, and I just believe it? Sorry, no can do. If the big man has a problem, he needs to give me a heads-up first."
"There isn't much time for that."
"Why?" Swank folded his arms, looking distrusting.
"Benny stole a platinum chip from Mr House, and he wants it back."
"That chip he's been flashing up in my face? He couldn't have stolen from House; what kind of punk would steal from the big cheese?"
"That's what House told me."
"Jesus, I can't believe it. After everything House did for the Chairmen?"
"If you still don't believe me, I can just go and get Mr House down here…"
"Look, man, don't do that; I'm already on bad terms with him. I don't believe you, but I know we have a serious problem on our hands. I've been itching to get back at that asshole for all the shit he's been doing lately… I guess it would be a shame if something happened to him." Swank handed David his weapons from behind the counter. They were all taken out one by one from a steel footlocker. "Here's your shit back, man, if you have any trouble 'talking' to him. I'll ask the Chairmen to look the other way."
"And if they don't?"
Swank shrugged. "Shoot whoever's asking for it, but try to avoid collateral damage. I can always hire more Chairmen, but not patrons. You dig?"
"Yeah, I dig."
Swank smiled and leaned forward, keeping his tone low. "For the record, I knew he was up to something ever since I heard he's been killing couriers on the side."
"What do you mean?"
Swank gritted his teeth. "He kept tabs on the Mojave Express, scoping out their cargo, shipments, couriers, you name it. I thought about ratting him out to House, but I couldn't get close to him."
Must have something to do with Courier Six. "Okay, I'll handle the problem we're having, and then we're square."
David's only concern was the platinum chip and nothing else at this point. The fact Benny was a two-timing clown, which was a good enough reason just to kill him anyway. Anyone caught dead in a daisy suit like that was asking to be obliterated. David strutted to Benny while he overlooked from the upstairs balcony; he instantly noticed David coming up the stairs to him. Clad in armour, David didn't have anything to fear now that he had all his weapons back. He figured weapons that he could quickly draw would save him trouble.
Benny was startled but still spoke with his charm, "Holy shit! When they said a guy from the Lucky 38 was coming to the Tops, I figured I'd have time to bail. Guess I was wrong."
"Sounds about right."
"What can I do for you, baby?" Benny said in a no homo way, with his deceiving charm. He was smooth and slimy as a snake, a waste of good charisma.
"Hand over the Platinum Chip."
"How about we have a little chat over a drink, baby? There's more to this caper that meets the eye."
"There is nothing you can say to convince me." David folded his arms. "The platinum chip or your life."
"Did House send you to rub me out? Listen, tough guy, you're on the Chairmen's turf now, and you don't want to piss them off."
"Better to be pissed off than pissed on."
David whipped out his Model 1887 from the pouch on his back and shot Benny's chest. The 20 gauge buck blew open his checked suit and sprayed blood all over his smug face, with bits of his chest and ribs digging into the carpet. He was dead before he hit the ground.
Oddly his four bodyguards just stood by without moving an inch; either they accepted his fate or obeyed Swank's request to look the other way. Guess he kept his word; shame David smeared blood all over the stairs and stirred up some of the gamblers. But, apart from the occasional shouting and cries, they just scattered like cockroaches, which was better than collateral damage."
"Looks like Chandler won't be showing up to the next Friends reunion."
David pried the platinum chip from Benny's crooked fingers and then went to see what he had in his pockets. An 18-carat gold Browning HP was in his checkered suit, with a holy image on the pearl grip. Unfortunately, David doesn't know much about his family's beliefs and religions; he only hears things through word of mouth from his Christian father.
It was a lovely handgun with a definite sense of resale value, better than the regular model, so David replaced his old 9mm Browning. After that, it was the right time to leave before Swank exploded over the bloody mess he left regarding Benny. David bailed straight away back to House; Swank never even tried to stop his leaving.
The kerb outside of Lucky 38 was empty. Boone and Veronica were no longer there. The kerb where Boone sat was empty. To David's left, at the side outside the different casino, Gomorrah, there were two young female erotic dancers, naked and baring it all – excluding some leather undergarments complete with some chains. One was tan with short-cropped black hair, and the other was Caucasian with a blonde ponytail.
The blonde waved her finger at David, signalling him to come closer; with some scepticism, he made sure she wanted what he thought she wanted. Yes. She wanted him to come to her. David had tremendous sex appeal, but something about his style resonated with the people around him.
She saw he was a mercenary, and she took the honour of rubbing down his chest with her small hands and grinding her long legs that reached his backside. Then, she bent over and presented her tight butt for him to relish. There was something to be said about the mercenary style, but David didn't know what to say.
David figured the woman was a part-time prostitute as a dancer; she let him sample the goods. The woman smiled and danced, grinding all over him; the erotic display was a hell of a reward for his bold move. Of course, David would need a lot of alcohol to dance like an idiot for a random stranger, but at least all go-go girls weren't that bad.
While he gave her a small taste and danced with her, she advertised and recommended he pay a visit to Gomorrah to get lucky. He gave the woman a cheeky nod and said he might come by later. But, unfortunately, David was on the job, and it's business before pleasure.
Once David returned, House changed his monitor to his true identity and continued their dealing as if nothing had changed. Only his ex-protégé has been relieved of his duty, and a great burden was lifted from the Strip. The Securitrons watched David like a hawk; he didn't mind that.
"Mr Wesker," Victor said, "Enjoyed your tomfoolery?"
"Who the hell says that? Who actually says that these days?"
"If you could refrain from being distracted by local women, that would be great. I trust you took care of my problem?"
"That Bugsy Siegel wannabe? David slid down the stairs' polished bannister and showed Victor the platinum chip. "He's as dead as disco." He flipped the chip like a standard coin without batting an eye. He does it a lot, but this chip was heavier than an ordinary coin.
"Excellent. Would you kindly hand the chip over?"
"Sure. Here you go." David held out the platinum chip under Victor's monitor and let one of the Securitrons take it from his open hand. It rolled to Victor's side on that cute little wheel.
"Finally! Decades of hiring scavengers to salvage that damned town Sunnydale has finally ended. It was originally to be delivered to me on October twenty-third, 2077, the day after its development. However, that was the day the Great War began; suffice to say, the delivery was never made because of Miss Ashford's impeccable timing. In defiance or spite, she must've timed the Great War to stop the delivery."
"What happens now?"
"A cascade of events… You will know soon enough; you'll play a big part in it. I only ask you to take the same elevator upstairs down to the very bottom level."
"What's down there?"
"The future of robotic engineering."
"Not right now. Let's discuss my payment if you please…"
"We can save it as a surprise for later, just this once."
Victor's monitor displayed three dossiers. One was a blond man in white, mid-thirties. Another was a brunette hooded woman, mid-twenties. Lastly was a tanned auburn woman in armour, early-twenties. Victor enlarged the first dossier on his monitor.
"Here we are. Here is the distant ancestor of your cousin Joshua. His eighth great-grandson. An intellectual man by the name of Gannon, Arcade Gannon. Last seen living in the Old Mormon Fort in Freeside." Victor swapped out the dossier for the second person. "You might know this woman, a distant descendant of your other cousin Blayne, his eighth great-granddaughter. A curious, caring and keen woman named Santiego, Veronica Santiego…"
David perked up his shoulders quickly. "Wait, wait, what? She's my…"
"Distant grandniece, yes. As a member of the Brotherhood, her exact location is uncertain. Hmmm, it looks like she's outside the Lucky 38 with another gentleman; it seems you've already met. Fitting. My surveillance footage is showing me that she's already making an idiot of herself with the dancers outside. Oh yeah, she's Wesker material..."
Victor collapsed Veronica's dossier to show footage of her dancing outside the Lucky 38. She either lacked rhythm or was just drunk; neither of them was sure. It was erotic in a similar fashion to David's earlier, involved grinding and even some groping. David didn't know how to feel. "Learns from the best, I suppose."
David sighed. "Lame..."
"Anyway, a deal's a deal. Enjoy." Victor's monitor displayed two dossiers, both of the images were women in their mid-twenties. While there were a few years in between them, the women were brunettes and wore light armour, most likely leather. "Here we are, your eighth great-granddaughters, courtesy of your Sanford and my Isabella. I don't know what your son saw in my other disappointment of a daughter, but I guess that's one of life's greatest mysteries."
"Fuck yeah!" David smiled, and then it slowly faded into a frown. "That makes us in-laws, though. Ugh! That's disgusting."
"You are entitled to your opinion; however, that does sound like an interesting development. That would make these women our descendants. How... fascinating..."
"Come on, get on with it! I'm so excited!"
"Very well. The eldest one here is Amanda Bevan; the youngest is Sunny Bevan."
The images were relatively new in colour, and the women looked a lot like someone he had only met days ago, with the eldest only looking slightly older with longer hair. "Strange… I met someone that looked just like Sunny. Was there a name change in her past?"
"Oh, of course, James Bevan's daughters. How could I forget? Sunny and Amanda had their names changed to Smiles around five years ago, just after Raven Rock's destruction. My mistake is the dossiers I have on her use their birth names."
"I cannot believe this, I met Sunny a few days ago, and I didn't see any resemblance. I was so blind..."
Victor collapsed the dossiers and went back to his default image, the unsettling face of a senile Russian monster. "Throughout the years, the entirety of the Wesker family found refuge under Vault-Tec in 2076; while the family did originally stay in Vault 76 for an undisclosed amount of time, our direct descendants shifted to Vault 101 somewhere during James and Katherine Bevan's life."
"And my cousins' bloodlines?"
"War split them onto different paths; the Brotherhood, N.C.R. and Vault-Tec. Sunny and Amanda Bevan were originally from Vault 101, but while you can find Amanda in Rivet City back in the Capital Wasteland, it appears you've already met Sunny back at Goodsprings."
"How did you know that exactly? Are you in cahoots with that robot?"
"Perhaps... Anyway, I will print off each of their dossiers for your convenience, and you will be pleased to know that the family trees will be present also."
"That's great! Thank you, Victor." An old printer or scanner below Victor's monitor started printing off papers. Like a traditional pre-war library printer.
"I welcome your appreciation."
David quickly folded the papers and slipped them inside his armour. "It's only fair I repay you in some form or another, so let's hear your offer."
"Excellent! The next step will require your skills in espionage and infiltration to continue further."
"Where will the infiltration take place?"
"Caesar's camp at Fortification Hill."
"Caesar's Legion? That's just plain suicide."
"Infiltration and espionage is the key, Mr Wesker."
"I'm not sure; I'm a bit rusty at espionage. I'm sure my wife... oh, wait... she's dead."
"Your humour is… bitter."
"Well, I'm a widow; I'm feeling a bit... grim. What does any of this have to offer me, personally? The whole infiltration."
"I can tell you it is not crude money; there will be plenty of that. I'm only providing a ground floor opportunity in the biggest enterprise on Earth. A future for you and what's left of the human race."
"I will need some time to process your offer; gotta sincerely consider this continued partnership for at least a day or two. Last I even heard of you and your… infamy, I especially despised you. So you cannot expect me to fold this soon."
"Naturally."
[Speech 70] "And in the meantime, I got family ties to straighten out."
[Success] "Very well. I'm not the same heartless monster I was hundreds of years ago; I learned to preserve humanity and work with them. In any case, I will give you the time you require as a show of good faith. Return to me when you wish to continue where we left off. I'm sure you won't regret it."
"That's all I need right now."
"Well enough, you missed far too much of this world. You need time to comprehend your actions; I can respect that decision. I only require you to keep our offer secret; it is very confidential and could lead to an unfortunate accident…"
"Well, I'm not going use it as a bragging right, that's for sure." David walks away up the stairs, back to the elevator. "You will hear from me soon."
"In your lifetime, I hope so. Do not keep me waiting, Mr Wesker."
Outside on the Strip, David noticed a large crowd of strippers and dancers outside Gomorrah; they were a mix of males and females. Boone was on the kerb outside, waiting patiently, but for some reason had his sights fixed on the strippers. Was he into that? With a frown and a glare, Boone was bored as fuck, it was evident. David sat next to him on the kerb.
Veronica was still dancing and prancing around like a major idiot. And to think she carries the Wesker bloodline in her veins, that's a super creepy thought itself. Wesker dancing? How painful. If he were still around, God-forbid, he'd sooner sleep with a woman he found in any way attractive and kill her the next day rather than watch her dance like an imbecile.
Bad enough, he flirted and slept with their Hungarian maid, Vivian back in the day. What a flirtatious bastard; she did more than clean his safehouse and work overtime. She wasn't the first woman he played this little game with.
"Boone."
Boone smiled. "David."
"Like what you see?"
"What? The strippers?"
"Who else?"
"Yeah, I'm having the time of my life," Boone muttered sarcastically, losing his smile.
"Where's Veronica?"
"Where do you think? Why else would I be watching a crowd of strippers? She's right in the middle of it."
"She's dancing with the strippers?"
"Don't ask… Picture an entire mind-numbing hour of this."
"Was it an hour already? I didn't notice." David checked the time on his watch; it was around two in the afternoon. It was okay, as far as timing is concerned. "Just out of curiosity, do you have a crush on Veronica by any chance?"
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Boone said instantly. He made good on his promise. "What did the big cheese want with you anyway?"
"Just a private chat. We need to go to the Mormon Fort to see a long lost friend, then the Crimson Caravan for some work."
"Short on caps?"
"Could say that."