"I feel the need to tell you that this is technically illegal," the veteran ranger said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Neat," Layla said, looking down the sights of the Ranger Sequoia in the early morning light. "Is this thing going to take my arm off?"

"Maybe," answered the ranger, a ghoul named Bellamy. "How strong are you?"

"Not very," Layla admitted as she pulled the hammer back on the revolver. "I'm better than I was before."

"Well, just try not to let it bounce back into your face," the ranger said.

Raul stood further away, wondering if Layla would manage to put her eye out. The Courier adjusted her stance, aimed down the range again and fired. The shot hit the paper but not the target, which was impressive considering the girl nearly fell over from the gun's recoil.

"Woah there!" Bellamy said as he took Layla's arm to steady her. "Why don't you give that back before you get killed?"

"Aw, can't I borrow it?" She grinned as she looked down at the gun. It was only issued to twenty-year veteran rangers, like a medal.

"I mentioned the illegal part, right?"

"You rangers and your 'rules.'" Layla gave him her mock-pout as she handed back the gun. "I'm never gonna get to play with one again."

"You ever think about being a ranger?"

The girl stared at him for a moment, then looked to Raul. They both started laughing at the same time. Once Layla had wiped the tears from her eyes, she noted Bellamy giving her a cross look.

"Oh! Please don't take that wrong. It would be an honor, but I am not Ranger material."

"That's not what I hear," the ranger countered.

"Have you ever heard about her first gun?" Raul said, and noticed Layla turn his way.

"Who told you about that? Oh why am I even asking. When did Cass tell you?"

"Actually, it was Arcade," the ghoul said cheerily. The Courier gave him a sour face, then turned back to Bellamy.

"Well, I'd fight by your side any day," the ranger said. Layla's face split into a smile.

"Thank you," she said. "And I'd be really happy to have a ranger in my corner any day."

There was a chorus of groans from further down the firing range, and the three of them looked over. Boone was with the Misfits, who all looked miserable. The sniper had taken it upon himself to make the group into a 'working unit.' That meant he was putting them through hell.

Layla smiled in their direction, then turned to Raul. "I'm going to speak with Chief Hanlon. Why don't you give Boone a hand?"

"Sounds good, Boss." He made his way over as he heard the Courier thank Bellamy.

*.*.*

"Well, it looks like you were right," Chief Hanlon said as Layla walked out onto the balcony. "Someone was tampering with our reports."

"Oh?" The Courier was surprised by how quick they'd been able to track down the problem. Then again, she wasn't a ranger; they tended to get the job done. "What happened?"

"Private Nettle had been delivering the transmissions for the last few months. He personally handled all of the false reports."

"He did it?" She sat back on the chair. "What was his angle? Legion?"

"We're still trying to sort it out," Hanlon said. "Nettle was a bit of a screw-up at times. We've got eye-witness accounts that he'd always stop at the 188 on the way to Forlorn Hope. Most of the time he would wet his whistle a little more than necessary. Best we figured, someone must have been taking advantage of the situation."

"Oh…" Layla frowned. That made sense. Everyone knows troops go back and forth from the 188. If some drunkard private wasn't careful, someone could take advantage. Something didn't seem right, but she had no other information. "Have you spoken with him yet?"

"That's going to be a problem," Hanlon sighed. "He was killed in a Legion ambush two weeks ago."

"Oh." Layla felt her stomach turn. "…Poor guy. I guess that'll make it hard to get the whole story."

"I'm afraid so," Hanlon said. "We'll investigate as best we can."

"Well… I'm glad we've gotten that figured out," she said. "You don't mind if I speak with the comm techs, do you? I don't really know how the whole process works. I figured it would be good to know for future reference."

"Knock yourself out, kiddo," Hanlon said as Layla stood to leave. She thought for a moment the Chief looked uncomfortable, but he gave her a grin.

"Tell Boone a few of the rangers have a pool going on how long before the Misfits mutiny on him."

*.*.*

Boone shook his head. For the fifth time, Mags was the only one who'd hit the target more than once in a round.

"That was terrible," he said with disgust. "From now on, whoever misses the target with any of their shots has to do ten laps around the camp, then shoot again until they get it right."

"How is that going to make us shoot better?" Poindexter grumbled.

"Now it's 15. Get moving."

Soon the soldiers were jogging away. Since this morning, they'd already stopped yelling at each other, instead muttering curses at him under their breath. Good progress, but now that they were actually working on their combat ability, things had slowed down.

Raul sat in a lounge chair nearby, sombrero over his eyes and drink at his side. The ghoul had been useful for keeping the Misfits in line. They were terrified of him, especially after he'd shot a bottle of water out of Poindexter's hand.

Boone knew they were close to giving up and refusing to work with him, but Mags and O'Hanrahan seemed to earnestly want to improve. He just needed to get them to actually show improvement. Once they gained that confidence about their abilities, things would go easier.

Poindexter came back first from the laps. Boone wouldn't have suspected the man would be the quickest of the bunch. He was barely winded, but he did look angry as he approached Boone.

"Listen, I'm only here for a pension. I don't have any desire to get noticed by the higher-ups," the private glowered. "None of this is going to accomplish anything anyway. All you're doing is making things even more miserable." Boone felt his jaw tighten, and he reared up on the other man.

"You ever watch a friend die?" he growled. When Poindexter shook his head, he continued. "You haven't had to watch as someone you cared about die in combat?"

The man shook his head again, and Boone grimaced. "Well aren't you lucky? When fuckers like you decide to half-ass it, people die. It might not be your friends, but you're killing them just as quickly as the Legion."

By now, the rest of the Misfits had returned. They stood a few feet away from Poindexter and Boone, looking nervous. He turned to them, glaring.

"I thought I told you to run laps!" he barked.

"We just did!" Razz cried.

"I didn't see any laps getting run. Did you see any?" he called to Raul.

"Nope," the ghoul replied from under his hat. "Better do them again."

Once the shocked looks wore off, Mags sighed loudly and started running again. Soon the others followed. Boone watched them go, wishing he hadn't lost his cool. Poindexter's attitude wasn't unique in the Mojave, and it pissed him off.

He spun around as he heard someone approach him. Layla was giving him a startled look, and he realized he'd automatically glowered at her, expecting one of the Misfits.

"…Things going well?" she asked, smiling knowingly.

"Just ducky, boss," said Raul as he lifted his hat from his face. "At the rate we're going, we'll have them deserting in no time. That is what we're going for, right?"

Boone gave him a real glare, but the ghoul merely chuckled.

"I just wanted to see how things were going," Layla said. "How's your side?" He turned it in her direction, and she pulled his shirt up. There was no blood on the bandages.

"Good. If you can take it easy, you'll be good as new before we know it," she said, pulling his shirt down. "Tonight you'd better have Sawbones rewrap it again, just to make sure."

He gave her a mildly annoyed look, but nodded, and she smiled as she watched the Misfits jog by. "Poor guys," the Courier said, looking back to Boone. "When are you going to shoot them and put them out their misery?"

That gave him an idea, and Layla gave him a strange look at the devious smile that slid onto his face.

*.*.*

Ranger Gilmore was the tallest woman Layla had ever laid eyes on. She also managed to look beautiful and like she could kill you with a toothpick at the same time. As the woman put her feet up on her desk, Layla wondered briefly if she could set her up with Veronica.

"Nettle was a fair soldier, but he got himself into constant trouble," the ranger said, taking off her sunglasses. "Did the chief tell you what happened?"

"Yeah, the reports getting messed up," Layla answered. "If Nettle was unreliable, why was he trusted to take vital intel to Forlorn Hope?"

"He never knew he was bringing anything vital. He thought his deliveries were meteorological research. They were, but he'd also run the reports without his knowledge. As to why we used him, the info always made it to its target in a timely manner. It wasn't until right before he got killed did we pick up he came back drunk half the time."

"Came back drunk?" Layla said, frowning. "I thought he got drunk on the way out?"

"No, on the way back. Major Polatli would have killed him if he'd shown up hammered."

Layla sat back, forgetting the half-cocked plan she'd figured out to get the other woman to agree on a blind date. She stood, looking the ranger's way again.

"Thanks, that's helpful."

A few moments later, she pulled her bag where she'd stowed it in her room. The copies of the sabotaged intel were still in their folder were she left them. A horrible realization was starting to dawn on her, but she wasn't going to act without proof.

*.*.*

Raul knew he was going to like this 'shape up the Misfits' plan, but he hadn't been prepared for how much he was enjoying it. It came to a head after Boone had sent them on another round of laps while he went into the resort. A few minutes later, he came back with a riot shotgun.

"I know they're pretty hopeless…" the ghoul said, "but taking them out seems a little extreme."

The sniper grinned at him, holding up the beanbag rounds. Raul couldn't help but laugh as the Misfits came back, gasping for air.

"Ba-back on the r-range?" Mags gasped as she got to Boone.

"No, we're going see about your teamwork." He gave them enough time to catch their breath, then continued.

"You are a team. If you don't act like one, your team will die. If your team is dead, no one is watching your back. So no one can stop this from happening." He raised the shotgun and shot Razz in the gut. The man fell to the ground with a howl.

"Or this." He hit Mags in the leg, and she went down.

"Or this." He turned in Poindexter's direction, but was suddenly tackled before he could fire. Sitting up, he found himself tangled up with O'Hanrahan. The private looked like he couldn't believe his own actions and immediately got to his feet, offering Boone his hand.

"I-I just…" he sputtered while Boone stood.

"Why did you do that?" the sniper demanded.

"I… y-you said to watch your team…" O'Hanrahan blurted out, and Boone had to bite back a smile.

"Good." He looked to the others. "Glad to see someone is actually paying attention."

The others gaped, and he noticed a particularly shocked look from Poindexter.

"Get something to eat," he said. "We'll go back to working on marksmanship when you're done. You have an hour." Boone allowed himself a smile as he saw O'Hanrahan and Poindexter help Razz and Mags to their feet as the group began hobbling down the hill.

"Hmph, look at that," Raul said as he approached the sniper.

"Yeah, guess they're not hopeless," Boone said, a little smugness coloring his words.

"No, I mean look at your side." The sniper looked down to see blood soaking through his shirt.

Layla was not going to be happy.

*.*.*

The Courier sat on the balcony, looking at the lake with a stack of papers in her hands. Chief Hanlon hadn't been there when she'd stepped out of the building, so she decided to wait for him. Layla hadn't been able to decide if she was relieved or further upset by his absence. She wanted to get this over with, but was dreading it at the same time.

She looked out on the land around the resort, trying to ignore her stomach as it continued twisting itself into a knot. A group milling around the firing range caught her eye. Layla couldn't help but smile as she reached for the binoculars. Sure enough, Boone was still doing his jackass impression on the Misfits.

A little more time and he might just make them into a pack of soldiers. She set the binoculars down and frowned. If she'd heard about a stranger who did the things Boone had done at Bitter Springs, she might have called them a monster.

But she'd lost count of how many times he'd saved her life. Or how many other lives he'd aided in their travels.

When she'd been young, it had been so easy to know what to do. Keep your nose clean, watch your back, and treat people right. If someone did you or others wrong, keep away from them. Layla had been used to giving people only one chance.

She didn't know what it was that made the Mojave change everything. A year ago she'd have taken one look at Nipton's burning corpses and headed back to California for good. Now she was in charge of a sovereign nation, kept company with Brotherhood of Steel members and 'murderers,' and killed old men in cold blood.

There was no easy answer to the problem she faced now. And as she thought about it, the door to the balcony opened and Chief Hanlon strode out.

"Hey there, Kid. Looking for me?"

"I…" She hesitated, then blew out a breath. "I know you did it. The falsified reports. On purpose."

Hanlon's smile faded, and a tired, serious look came over him. "We shouldn't be talking about this out here. Let's go into my office."

Layla bit her lip, some part of her whispering warnings that the old man might try to keep her quiet, permanently. The Chief looked like he was reading her mind.

"Don't worry," he said, a brief touch of mirth ghosting over his features. "This old dog don't have much bite left. I'm not in the habit of hurting innocent civilians."

The frown hadn't left Layla's face, but she followed as he lead her inside. Soon they were in an office on the first floor. Hanlon took a seat behind his desk, indicating another chair for Layla.

"Now, what are you talking about, exactly?" He said evenly.

"Nettle never drank on the way to Forlorn Hope, only back," Layla said. "That isn't the real problem, it's this." She held up one of the reports. "Nettle died fifteen days ago. This report was signed off and delivered twelve days ago."

Hanlon took the report and read it over. "Well, shit." He sat back at his desk, setting the paper down. "Manipulating intel is a ranger's real job," he said.

"But you're making stuff up, crazy things. And for what purpose?" Layla said, emotion building in her voice. "People are dead because of this."

The Chief flinched, and Layla's nervousness grew into anger.

"Why did you do this? It obviously wasn't to help the war, so why?"

Hanlon was quiet for a moment, looking at his hands. Eventually, he looked her way.

"It's never going to end, this fight with Caesar's boys," he said. "People don't know what we're up against. We can't stop them here, not without getting a lot of people killed. Even if we do stop them, we'll never be able to leave the Mojave. Creating fear and instability was the only thing I could think of to get us to pull out, but people have gotten killed." he looked down. "This report was the last phony one I sent. I'd hoped the oversights wouldn't be noticed, and we could move on. But I suppose from what I hear about you, it's not so surprising you're the one who caught it."

Layla gave him a hard look. "Your people were counting on you. Most of the time the rangers are the only hope in this whole desert, and you've made their jobs harder and more dangerous. This isn't helping anyone."

"I know that now…" Hanlon agreed.

"Caesar's dead," she continued. "The Legion isn't going to make it more than a few years, tops. We might even take out the rest of their leadership at the Dam."

"Oliver can't stand that the rangers got credit for the last victory at Hoover Dam," Hanlon said wearily. "He'll do the opposite of anything I suggest, even if he endangers more lives by doing it."

"Well then it's a damn good thing the rangers aren't under his jurisdiction," Layla said harshly. "This is what I mean. You're endangering the only ones who could stop this clusterfuck from getting worse. Do you realize how important the rangers are to the morale here? I've seen hopeless fights turn completely around when a single ranger showed up. If anyone ever found out the head of the Rangers was deliberately trying to sabotage things, it would be devastating."

Hanlon's dour face darkened further. "I know… I messed up." He sighed. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm not going to do anything," she said. "You are going to go back to work, and do it right. And if I find out about any more screwed up reports, I'm going to let the other rangers know about it." She had to put a lot of effort into keeping a neutral face as she continued. "Don't make me do that."

"I won't." Hanlon's face cleared somewhat, but he still looked tired and grim. "Now I'm going to leave this room, and we're going to act like this conversation never happened."

Layla nodded, stuck somewhere between relief and disgust.

*.*.*

The sun was just reaching the horizon. Well, Layla had to assume it was, but the House Resort was in the sunset's way. Some cheesy part of the Courier's brain wanted to wax poetic about symbolism, but she squashed the feeling. She was too tired to put up with poetic waxing right now.

Layla lied back on the picnic table she'd planted herself on with a groan. She felt old suddenly, weary. This war was like a wild fire; no matter what she did to solve a problem, three more would spring up. It was suddenly very easy to understand why Hanlon wanted to get the NCR out. She knew the man had been trying to help, he'd just gone about it poorly.

"Hey."

Layla looked over her shoulder to find Boone coming her way. She noted he was walking more naturally now as she sat up.

"Hey," she answered, smiling. "What's up?"

"Wondering where you got to," he answered, sitting next to her on the table.

"Afraid I'd go wander off into trouble?" she murmured, and he shrugged, smirking slightly. "How are the Misfits?" she asked.

"Better," he said, rubbing his side. "They're working together. Even starting to shoot better."

"Good." Layla smiled. "You're good at scaring people, you know that? I thought for sure you'd have more trouble with Razz. He's an ex-Fiend, you know. He suggested we get everyone hopped up on psycho to 'improve their fighting.'" She laughed. "I'm sure that would have gone well."

He smiled marginally, and Layla looked out at the water again. She thought about going for a swim, but decided against it. She didn't feel like getting groped by another Lakelurk. Turning back to Boone, she found him looking uncomfortable.

"Something bothering you?" she asked, and he frowned. He spoke a moment later, sounding cautious.

"Before you came to Novac, I…" He fidgeted. "I was pretty out of control…"

That hadn't been what she'd been expecting.

"What do you mean?"

"I was using a lot of chems, couldn't sleep unless I drank. Gave up the drugs, was starting to shake too much." He grimaced. "Kept drinking and using Buffout, though."

"Why Buffout? It doesn't alter mental state."

"I was just waiting to find out who sold Carla before I… took out as many Legionaries as I could."

Layla nodded, feeling her stomach twist. "Well, I haven't seen you do much drinking now…"

"Had someone depending on me again," he said, and she looked up at him.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Don't know." He shrugged. "Felt like I was hiding things from you."

She chuckled. "I'm not going to throw you out, if that's what you're worried about. It was probably wise not to tell me when we first met, though." The mirth faded after a moment. "You were in a pretty dark place then." She reached out and took his hand. "I'm sorry you had to go through so much alone."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you at the Big Empty, or the Sierra Madre," he said.

Layla frowned at that. "It's not your fault-"

"Not your fault about the chems either…" he interrupted, making Layla smirk marginally.

"Since when can you out-talk me?"

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed.

Layla's stomach felt like someone was wringing it out when he took off his sunglasses as he held her gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, not really sure what was about to come tumbling out-

"Hey! There you are!"

Layla jumped and turned, seeing Ranger Bellamy coming their way. "The Chief's asking for you."

The Courier tried not to let the disappointment show on her face as her hand slid out of Boone's. "What's up?"

"Well, we thought the group who offed Caesar deserved a steak and a beer," Bellamy said jovially.

"Oh. Well, I won't argue that." She looked back in Boone's direction, and wondered if she was imagining the disappointment on his face as well.

Today's chapter was brought to you by 'Blade,' 'Blade 2,' 'The Dirty Dozen,' and the Letter G!