A/N:OK, for those of you who may have read when I first posted Chap. 16... that wasn't it. I accidentally posted a previous chapter as the new one XD But, I fixed that and this is the new chapter. Yeah... and it's really long, this one. But, it's worth it. Please, read and review! Thanks for reading and I hope you conitnue to read! XD
Colt was walked into the dark terminal building of Camp McCarran by the sergeant that had picked him up in the Tops. He shifted his shoulders around, trying to get readjusted to having Cass' bag, shotgun, and his assault rifle on his back again. He had hoped that he would be able to give Cass her shotgun and bag back to her… but she wasn't in the room in the room with Ivan. Colt didn't give up hope, though. She was still out there somewhere and he was determined to find her no matter the cost.
Veronica and Boone were waiting outside of the terminal building; they had to because General Oliver and Colonel Hsu only wanted to speak to Colt. The sergeant led Colt to the eastern wing of the building, walking past rows of slot machines, the reception desk, and a few sandbag walls with NCR troopers sitting behind them. As they approached the eastern wing and an office on the first floor, Colt and the sergeant were greeted by the sight of an NCR trooper wearing old salvaged power armor from the NCR's war with the Brotherhood of Steel. The heavy trooper wielded an enormous M60 Light Machine gun that intimidated Colt just a bit.
The heavy trooper nodded as Colt and the sergeant walked into the brightly lit office. The office was completely vacant except for a desk, chair, and computer terminal in the northeastern corner, another table, bare of any items, on the eastern wall, and a third table, sitting in front of a portrait of the NCR's esteemed president, Aaron Kimball, and an espresso machine sitting on top. Also in the room were two NCR officers having a discussion. One of the officers was wearing a green beret and the traditional desert and khaki armor the regular troopers wear with the only difference being a bandolier draped across his shoulder and over his torso. The other officer, who was obviously the superior, wore a dark beige and border line khaki colored shirt and pants with a green general's cap, sitting a top his head, adorned with star pins and one large silver pin of a two headed bear on the front.
The man who wore the khaki armor and bandolier, approached Colt, hand extended, "Colonel Hsu," he said as he shook Colt's hand. Then, he turned to his companion, "And this is General Oliver." Colt shook the general's hand, exchanging small nods.
"Sergeant, you're excused," the general said, addressing the soldier still standing in the doorway. The sergeant snapped a quick salute and then left, closing the door behind him. With the sergeant gone, General Oliver continued the conversation, "Now, Colt, I suppose you're wondering why we wanted to talk to you."
"That's exactly what I'm wondering, general," Colt said, confirming the general's suspicions.
"We know your whole story, Colt, and we know who you're looking for and why you're looking for them."
"Okay, great," Colt said sarcastically, "You guys are fucking stalkers. That makes me feel so much better. What the fuck do you guys want? You're really wasting my time."
"Don't be an ass, Colt," Hsu retorted, walking over to his visitor's left, "We want to help you, but, with the way you're acting… I don't think it'll be possible."
"How could you possibly help me?"
"We can help because," Oliver began, walking over to a leather chair behind the desk in the northeastern corner of the room. He sat in the chair and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head and continued, "We have information that might prove useful to your endeavors."
"And what kind of information would that be?" Colt asked, crossing his arms.
General Oliver just smiled, "That's for us to know and for you to find out." Colt finally pieced it together…
"What a fucking cliché," Colt scoffed.
"Now, what is that supposed to mean?" Hsu asked, walking over to the espresso machine. He grabbed the mug next to the brass appliance and held the mug underneath the faucet, filling the faded white cup with black, scorching hot liquid.
"I can see right though this. You guys want me to do something in exchange for the information. Am I right?"
"This guy is smarter than we though, Hsu," General Oliver chuckled.
"Yes he is, sir," Hsu agreed, finished pouring his cup of coffee and taking a sip from the mug.
"Yes, Colt, we want you to do a little job for us. It's nothing you can't handle. Just do it, come back, we'll give you the information, and then send you and your friends on your merry little way."
"Oh yeah? Well, why the fuck should I help you or the NCR?" A fire struck in Colt's chest. Why should he help the NCR when they didn't help his family in their one time of need?
"Because, if you don't," Oliver leaned forward, ever more serious than what he was five seconds ago, "We'll put you away in jail for five counts of murder and put your friends away for aiding and abetting a criminal."
"Oh," Colt exclaimed, laughing at the threat, "Now you're blackmailing me? I love just how tainted, remorseless, and insensible the NCR is." In reality, Colt couldn't believe just how low the NCR would stoop to get someone to do something for them. He thought they were a little more honorable than this. More over, he couldn't believe that he had brought Veronica and Boone down with him…
"Don't you dare talk about the NCR like that!" General Oliver stood, pointing a trembling finger at Colt, "We care for our own and it's fuckers like you, who think they can go out on a lamb and start killing people, who deserve to be blackmailed!"
"If you cared for your own, then where the fuck were you when my family's ranch was burned down and my family was killed? You sure as fuck weren't there for us! And I 'went out on a lamb and started killing people' because you pricks were too Goddamned scared to do anything about it!"
"Calm down, both of you!" Colonel Hsu yelled over the two, putting his free hand in between them, "We're all little overstressed, so why don't we just relax."
General Oliver stared at Colt; trying to burn a hole in him, but Colt stood his ground, not budging an inch under the general's stare. Eventually, when the atmosphere climbed to the climax of tension, Oliver broke the stare, turned away, and sat back down in the office chair. Colt just let out an unstable breath, calming himself down.
"Colt," Colonel Hsu continued, "I'm sincerely sorry about what happened and I'm sorry the NCR wasn't there, but we can't just go out and start killing them if the civies support them. It would be disastrous for both sides.
Now, we have info about the Stallions and the brass decided that they could tell you and get you to kill them, since the NCR can't directly do it because the incident will rile up a whole bunch of civilians who adore the Stallions and Aleksander like a fucking idol. This way, you can fulfill your 'revenge quest', the NCR doesn't get bashed by the civilians back home for the murders, and this world is rid of one more gang. But, of course, to receive this information you have to help the NCR with a job that needs done."
Colt slowly nodded, "And what if I don't accept?"
"Well," Hsu sighed, 'The brass thought of that too. If you don't accept, we will pin five counts of murder on you and we have to arrest you and your friends."
"So, I have no choice; I have to do your little 'favor' or go to jail."
"It's the only way."
Colt looked down, not wanting to have to go through this but knew he had to. He heaved an enormous sigh, "Well, if it's the only way…"
"Good," General Oliver stood, walked over to Colt, and placed a hand on his shoulder, as if nothing had happened before then, "I knew you would see it our way. Now, here's the situation; a few days ago, we lost contact with a Ranger patrol just southeast of Quarry Junction. We don't what happened to them, but it has the brass worried."
"What's so bad about that?" Colt asked, jerking his shoulder out from underneath Oliver's hand.
"When a Ranger patrol goes missing, you can't help but wonder and be worried at who the fuck did it," Hsu added, "But, we do have an idea… just before their final transmission cut off, we heard the discharge of energy weapons. The Brotherhood has already confirmed that it wasn't any of their units, so, yeah, we're kind of worried. Who else could it possibly be?"
"The brass thinks it's possibly the Enclave," the general continued as he walked over to a bookcase to the left of the door Colt came through, "They think that they may be units we missed or units that came from Mexico, Texas, or were possibly hidden from the Legion in Colorado. We have no clue if it is them or where they came from."
"That's why we're sending you," Hsu continued for Oliver as the general brought over a small pile of clothes, a combat knife, black leather cowboy boots on top of the clothes, and a dark brown hat, with rings on a decorative band, on top of the boots, "You and your friends will go to the last known location of the Ranger patrol and search for clues regarding to their whereabouts. You will be joined by three squads from the Mechanized Division, with three HMMWVs, and they will assist you in any way they can."
"Any questions?" Oliver asked.
"Yeah," Colt nodded as he began to clap his hands sarcastically, "That was just fantastic the way you guys kept that flow of info up. Did you guys practice that before I came in? I mean, that was just marvelous."
"Again, Colt, don't be an ass," General Oliver held out the pile of clothes to Colt, "Get changed into these clothes."
"What? Why?" Colt protested, not wanting to surrender his extremely protective armor for this vulnerable apparel.
"Because, the brass doesn't want to look like they're worried because they hired mercenaries. So, you and your companions are going to do this while disguised as NCR Rangers. Just put on the damn clothes so you can get this over with."
Colt let out a frustrated breath as he removed Cass' bag, shotgun, and his assault rifle, placing them to the side, and then unhitched his revolver from his utility belt, gently setting it down next to the bag so that he could put it on later. Then, he began to remove his heavy and worn out combat armor. He laid the armor pieces in a neat pile, placing the largest piece, the chest plating, first and then the calf pieces, knee pads, elbow pads, and, finally, the pauldrons. Next, stripping down to a white t-shirt and black shorts, Colt removed his boots, utility belt, and the skin tight shirt and pants, laying them on top of the armor.
After he set his armor inside of Cass' partially empty rucksack, Colt, hesitantly, took one piece of clothing at a time from General Oliver and began to don the disguise that would make him appear as an NCR Ranger.
First, was a faded blue button-up long sleeved shirt that was just as tight as his own shirt and was scorching hot; he would have to adjust to the none temperature regulating fabric if he were to perform as well as he has for the past few days.
Next, he slipped on a pair of sand colored pants and tightened the lip of the pants to his waist with a brown leather belt and enormous steel belt buckle, which had a steer head engraved on the main piece. Then, Colt hitched his revolver and its black leather holster to a pair of straps on the right leg of his pants, positioning it just about in the middle of his calf.
The next piece of clothing he put on was a pair of black, fingerless leather gloves that fit, skin tight, to his hands. After the gloves, he slipped on a pair of black leather cowboy boots, making sure to stuff the pant's legs inside the boots. The boots, he had to admit, rivaled his own pair of military combat boots.
The last two things Colt put on, to complete his Ranger disguise, was a bright red scarf, which most Rangers wear, and a dark brown cowboy hat with rings on a decorative band and the sides curved.
After Colt became adjusted to the outfit, General Oliver approached him with another piece of clothing; this one was not standard for the NCR, however. It was a pitch black vest with a sheath for a knife right in the middle of the torso and seven pockets, six just below the sheath that circled the front of the entire vest and one on the right breast. The pockets were a type of bandolier for the wearer's spare ammunition and other things. Colt had seen the vest before in a few holotapes his family owned; it was a Ballistics Vest that the American Pre-War military frequently used for a few years before switching to the combat armor Colt used. The vest was a little outdated, yes, but it was still a useful piece of equipment.
General Oliver held the vest out to Colt, "Here."
Colt looked down at the vest as he adjusted to the rest of his clothing, "What the fuck do you want me to do with that?"
"It's either go with some kind of armor or no armor… and we need someone to test these vests so we can start issuing them to our soldiers."
Colt let out yet another breath of frustration as he took the vest and slipped it on over his head. Then, he sheathed the combat knife in the vest's sheath, securing the blade with one or two velcro straps, and removed his lighter and pack of cigarettes from the utility belt, slipping them into the breast pocket of the vest. The vest heavily weighed him down, but would offer some kind of protection at least. He moved around in the outfit for a minute, getting a feel for it and he decided that it wasn't half bad. He might just keep… Colt, finally, put Cass' bag on his back and slung his assault rifle and Cass' shotgun on his shoulders; he was ready for the ridiculous mission that the NCR had planned for him.
"If Chief Hanlon didn't know any better, he might mistake you for a full fledged Ranger," Hsu chuckled as he examined Colt in the uniform.
"Alright, now that you have your disguise, go outside," Oliver ordered, pointing to the front of the airport terminal, "The three squads should be waiting for you with your friends and the three HMMWVs you'll be using. You're dismissed."
"Sir!" Colt yelled as he, mockingly, saluted the general.
The general and colonel just stared him down as Colt dropped the salute and left the dark and humid airport terminal, walking into the cold darkness of the Mojave. Outside, Colt was greeted by the sight of three HMMWVs, which stood for, from what Colt learned through his family holotapes, High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicles. Essentially, they were three sand colored military Humvees. Each one was plated with light armor, that small arms could even penetrate, and each one was equipped with a single Browning M2 Machine Gun. The Browning M2 is otherwise known as the heavy, intimidating, and, overall, monstrous .50 caliber machine gun that could tear apart brick walls.
Colt was amazed at the Humvees; the fact that the NCR would even be brave enough to have a Mechanized Division blew Colt away. He knew there was a few Humvees in NCR control, but he didn't think they'd actually use them. They, obviously, had salvaged these and restored them to working condition and given them a fresh coat of paint; they took real good care of the few vehicles they had. But, no matter how much you fix it up, you still cannot change the fact that, before the War, these things were moving targets that screamed, "Attack me!" Colt hoped that he wouldn't end up like the Pre-War soldiers who rode in them…
There were three or four soldiers standing around each Humvee and Colt was approached by one from each group. One of the soldiers, who came from the group by the first vehicle, was wearing the standard trooper armor with a bandolier around his torso, just like Colonel Hsu. The other, from the group around the second vehicle, was also wearing the standard trooper armor, but with a camouflaged cape draped around her right shoulder. The last, from the group around the third vehicle, was wearing the standard NCR trooper armor with no added affects.
The man from the first Humvee addressed Colt as he extended a hand, "Master Sergeant Polanski, sir. I'm commanding officer of first squad. We'll be in the first Humvee." Colt just nodded and shook the man's hand.
The second soldier, also the only woman in the group of three and the one wearing the cape, extended her hand and was the next to address the disguised Ranger, "Sergeant Major Yolanda. Commanding officer of second squad and I've also been appointed the commanding officer of this patrol. Second squad will be in the second Humvee and you and your friends are to ride with us." Colt, once again, nodded and shook her hand.
Finally, the last of the three addressed Colt and extended his hand, "First Sergeant Henderson, sir. I'm commanding officer for third squad and we'll be riding in the third Humvee, bringing up the rear." Colt shook the hand of the soldier and nodded.
"Well," Colt said to the soldiers, "It was nice meeting you and, uh, hopefully this doesn't go bad, yeah?"
"Yes, sir!' The three said in unison as they departed to their Humvees.
Colt approached his designated vehicle and opened the door to the trunk, where his bag was already placed. He removed Cass' bag and shotgun and placed them inside of the rear of the vehicle. Then, he slid over his own bag and opened the smaller front pocket where he kept ten clips for his assault rifle. He removed six of them and began to slide them into the pockets on his vest. As he did so, he was approached by a disguised Boone and Veronica who emerged from two of the many tents in front of the McCarran terminal building.
Veronica wore almost the same thing, black cowboy boots, red scarf, a brown cowboy hat, and so on, with the only difference being that her shirt was a faded green and she wore dark brown pants. Under her arm, she was carrying her folded up Scribe robes and her pneumatic gauntlet was still on her fist.
Boone, once more, wore almost the exact same thing as Colt, except his shirt was white and he still had his bandolier and NCR First Recon beret on. His rifle was slung, with its strap, around his shoulder and, he too, carried his old clothes under his arm.
Colt held open the main pocket of his bag for the two, allowing them to stow their clothes inside. They placed their clothing inside the bag and Veronica, still irritated by the hat, was the first to complain.
"Don't the Rangers have any taste?" She asked, shifting the hat around, "Why do we even have to wear these shitty outfits?"
"Why do we have to wear these outfits?" Boone asked, adjusting his bandolier and rifle strap.
"Because," Colt slid the last clip into the last pocket on his vest and slammed the trunk, turning to the two, "We're going to go find out what happened to a Ranger patrol that vanished south of here and the NCR brass wants us in disguises."
"We don't actually have to do this, do we?" Veronica asked, placing her hands on her hips. She obviously didn't want to do anything for the NCR. Colt didn't blame her…
"Yes, we do. One; we'll get info on where Cass and the Stallions are... more or less. Two; if we don't do it, then the NCR will put me in jail for murder and you two will go in for aiding and abetting."
"What? They can't do that, can they?"
"Yeah I know; it's outrageous and I'm sorry. I-I should've never have gotten you two in this," Colt just let his head fall, ashamed that he brought these two down to criminal level with him.
Veronica sighed, kicking a rock that was on the ground, "No matter… as long as it helps you find Cass, it doesn't matter. Besides, I've come with you this far… and its farther than I would go with William. Oh, and it's been really fun; the most fun I've had in a long time."
"Yeah, if it helps you find Cass and that gang, it doesn't matter; we'll help you and her," Boone added, then her broke into a smile, "And it has been fun."
Colt nodded and smiled, "Thanks and I'm pretty sure this'll be a lot more fun."
"So," Veronica said, leaning on the back of the Humvee, "What happened to the patrol?"
"Well, they didn't have much information except where the patrol was when they lost contact. They do have a clue though; just before the transmission was cut completely, the radio ops heard the discharge of, and you're really going to like this," Colt leaned in to the two and began to whisper, so as not to worry the troopers around the three, "Energy weapons."
"Energy weapons?" Boone whispered as well, "You mean, like, the Brotherhood of Steel?"
"No, it can't be the Brotherhood," Veronica retorted, trying to defend her home and her friends, "They have a treaty with the NCR. The Brotherhood may be technology nuts, but they respect the terms of agreements to any treaty they sign and any official document. It couldn't be them."
"Look, no one knows who did it," Colt said, trying to stop an upcoming conflict and reassured Veronica, "There was no hint at who did it with the exception of the energy weapons. But, the NCR brass does have one culprit in mind… the Enclave."
"The Enclave?" Boone chuckled, "Any Enclave units that were in California or the Mojave were wiped out decades ago; there's no way it could be them."
"They said it may be a possibility that they came from Mexico, Texas, or were hiding from the Legion in Colorado… they don't know. That's why we're being sent to investigate and find out what happened to them."
"Alright, listen up!" The voice of Sergeant Major Yolanda called out from behind Colt, gathering everyone's attention, "We'll be going on a small a patrol and we'll be accompanied by three Rangers; Ranger Spiritson," she gestured to Colt, "Ranger Boone," she gestured to Boone, "and Ranger Santangelo," she gestured to Veronica, "So, you're all acquainted. Now, let's saddle up and let's go!"
A few claps and cheers came from the men and woman, the mediocre applause wasn't exactly reassuring and helpful, and then they began to pile into the vehicles. Colt walked to the front passenger door and climbed into his spot in the front of the vehicle, placing his rifle in between his legs. Veronica sat in the seat behind him, leaning back and enjoying the first time she's sat down in a long time. Boone, however, had to wait while an NCR trooper climbed in the Humvee and took up position in the hole in the roof and behind the .50 caliber. After the soldier was settled in behind the heavy machine gun, standing in a small space in between the two back seats, Boone finally took his position in the back while Sergeant Major Yolanda took her position in the driver's seat.
This Humvee was unlike the one's Colt had seen, which were usually filled with all kinds of equipment. This Humvee was stripped bare of everything except for a radio under the dashboard and just above the gear shifter for the manual transmission.
"Alright," Yolanda said as she dug into one of the many pockets on her uniform and pulled out a set of keys, "Let's crank this up." She stuck the keys into the ignition and turned it, cranking up the diesel engine and starting the old Humvee. The other's started up shortly after, their engines making the same humming sound.
"Let's hope this goes well," Colt said, shifting his position in the seat.
"What makes you say that?" Yolanda asked as she put the Humvee in gear and followed the lead vehicle towards the Camp McCarran main gate.
"Because… my family had old holotapes of documentaries about the Pre-War military… let's just say that these vehicles weren't always the safest to ride around in while going through hostile territory."
They turned left after exiting the gate and continued south, heading towards Quarry Junction. It was relatively quiet, except for the hum of the engines, which scared off Fiends and small critters that would've been lethal if on foot. But, the quiet was not what worried Colt. What worried him was the speed they were going. He peered over at the speedometer; the needle was staying steady on 10. The slower they went meant the slower they would be able to complete this distraction of a mission which, in turn, meant the longer it would take for Colt to find the Stallions and Cass.
Colt turned to Yolanda and addressed the speed issue, "Why are we going so slowly?"
"Because," Yolanda explained, staring at the vehicle ahead of them, 'It conserves fuel. Don't want to waste it all, now do we?"
Colt scoffed as he leaned back in the chair and looked out his door's window. They had finally turned onto I-15 and were continuing south, passing an old railroad station and climbing a steep slope. As they neared the middle of the slope, something out in the wilderness caught Colt's eye. He turned to see what it was; it was a fully grown Deathclaw.
Colt warned the others, "Deathclaw," he said, picking up his rifle and holding it in a fire-ready position.
"Where?" The soldier on the .50 caliber asked.
"West; just off the side of the road," Colt answered, pointing out the window at the Deathclaw as they began to pass it.
The soldier pointed the turret to the enormous, alligator-like beast, "Got it."
The beast turned to them, noticing the Humvees for the first time. At first, he walked to them, investigating the metallic vehicles and the fleshy beings they were hauling. Then, he realized the vehicles weren't a threat and broke into a full sprint, arms open and ready to tear them apart. The Deathclaw was right; the vehicles weren't a real threat… but, the soldier on the .50 caliber was more dangerous than anything the Deathclaw would ever encounter. The soldier on the turret laughed as he took aim and fired five shots at the beast. The rounds landed and tore the Deathclaw apart, shredding through it like a knife through paper. The beast fell, with a thud, to the pavement, blood pouring out of its wounds.
The threat gone, Colt leaned back in the chair again and rested for a minute, trying to relax. He turned to Yolanda, "I'm going to take a short nap. Wake me when get to the spot, alright?"
Yolanda nodded, acknowledging Colt's request, and Colt leaned back even farther, trying to sleep for the first time in a while. But, he couldn't. He just kept having the same exact nightmare he's been plagued with for the past few years of his life. The dream of him discovering his farm destroyed and family murdered. It was no use to sleep because he would just open his eyes a few minutes later out of fear. Then, he remembered back in Novac that night he and Cass spent the night in the old motel room; he slept peacefully for the first time in years. He needed Cass to keep those painful memories away and focus on the rest of his life… Colt pulled out Cass' pendant from underneath his shirt and held it in his closed fist as he tried to sleep again.
This time, he dreamt of that quaint little farm in the middle of a sunny day, with the father and son out in the field, tending to the crops and Brahmin, while the mother and daughter worked to wash clothes and fix supper. Big band music fluttered through the air, giving the entire area a peaceful and cheery atmosphere. A smile spread across Colt's face as he continued to watch the farm.
But the smile faded as the big band music was replaced with a loud explosion and sound of exchanging gunfire. The sun was replaced with clouds of bellowing smoke from the fires that burned. The cheery atmosphere disintegrated as it was replaced with an intense warzone; people screaming in terror and pain and… tires squealing. Colt jolted awake in time to see a lamp post closing in on the front of the Humvee and he lifted his hands up, protecting his face from a hail of glass that flew towards him as the vehicle collided head on into the post with sickening crash.