A/N: Hey guys! So sorry it took me so long to upload this chapter, but I've been very busy lately and I'm going to continue to be busy as school starts. Anyway, here's the next installment to the story and it's VERY long but worth it... Oh, and as a result from a review, I have done something to hint (keyword "hint"... I'm not going to outright and tell you... I want to keep that mystery feeling going XD... even thought its pretty easy where she and the Stallions are) at where Cass is and it even dives into Aleksander's past a little further.

Colt opened his eyes, but soon closed them because of an intense light just above him. After rubbing his sore eyeballs, Colt slowly opened his eyelids and adjusted to the light level of the room with his bare pupils, his sunglasses missing from his face and sitting in his hat only a few inches behind him.

The room he in wasn't really a room. Technically, it was, more or less, a basement, except for the fact that it wasn't being used to store Christmas decorations or other things. Instead, it was being used as a prison cell for its three occupants and the only survivors of the ambush; Veronica, Boone, and Colt.

Colt slowly lifted himself up in an upright position, with every muscle in his body screaming "Fuck you!" for making them work so hard. As he locked himself into position, he began to rub his aching and sore limbs, soothing the pain and suffering they were enduring just to keep the full grown man sitting up. As soon as he could move his arms, without straining his muscles with every movement, the first thing Colt checked was his right thigh, feeling for his revolver… it wasn't there. He silently cursed under his breath, cursing the bastards who had taken his precious family heirloom. Then, he felt his hand around his Ballistics Vest; the M16 magazines were missing but, thankfully, his lighter was still in the right breast pocket, although it was now only a motivator for his escape because, predictably, his cigarettes were taken away... kinda weird isn't it? I mean, they would take a harmless pack of cigarettes but leave him with a source of fire... anyway...

Cursing the bastards that had taken his pack of stress relievers, Colt finally took a look around the cell he was being held in and got a clear read of the surroundings. The dinky cell was made of some kind of black steel or other metal that gave the entire room an ominous aura and was severely depressing; obviously made that way to break prisoner's spirits and make them cave and form under their captor's whims. The black walls and floors were bare; no furniture whatsoever and the only objects that occupied the room, not including the prisoners, were small little lights in each and every corner. Above this room, being a type of basement, there was, obviously, another room which was separated from the basement by two steel gratings with only a few inches of space in between the two. One grating acted as a floor for the upper room and the other acted as a ceiling for the cell. From what Colt saw through the gratings, the room above looked like a doctor's office or medical clinic that was split into two by a few floor shades.

In the part of the medical clinic that Colt was underneath, there were two operating tables; one against the left wall and the other against the right wall. Each operating table had its own IV stand and medical cabinet. Directly above Colt was an x-ray light, used for examining x-rays, which would explain the bright light that blinded him when he first awoke.

In the other part of the room, against the far wall, was a small table with a computer terminal and another operating table. Right in front of the operating table, in the middle of that part of the room, was a desk and chair illuminated by another x-ray light just behind it. Sitting at the desk was a woman, dressed in red robes, who was writing on a clipboard.

At that moment, Veronica and Boone, who, just as Colt, were still in the uniforms given by the NCR and were without their weapons, began to stir and started groaning as they too sat up.

"Where the fuck are we?" Veronica asked as she began rubbing her head and looking around for the hat she had before. Finally, she found it only a few feet away and placed on top of her head; once again hiding her black hair.

"You should know, Veronica," the woman wearing red robes remarked while still writing on the clipboard.

Veronica looked up at the woman, confused. Then, her expression changed to that of shock, "Schuler? Is that you?"

The woman named Schuler chuckled softly, "Glad you still remember me, Veronica."

"Wait," Colt interjected, rubbing the sore muscles on his arms, "You know her, Veronica?"

"Yeah, unfortunately."

"Aw," Schuler said, false hurt resonating from her voice, "That hurt Veronica. Just because you leave the bunker doesn't mean you should forget your family."

Colt sighed, rubbing his throbbing temples, "What the fuck is she talking about, Veronica? Where the fuck are we and what the fuck is going on?"

The cell door hissed open, attracting the attention of the three prisoners. Three men entered the room; two of them wore gray power armor and the other man wore dark royal blue robes. One of the power armored individuals, a rather large and stalky man who made up for his lack of hair with his seemingly tough exterior, stood by Boone, standing guard over the former First Recon sharpshooter. The other power armored man, who had much darker skin and hair than the other people in room, which gave him a sort of laid back yet serious composure, stood over Veronica, hands on his hips. Just by the way he was standing, Colt could tell that the man was frustrated that he was in here... or that any of them are here. The last man, who seemed like a person of importance because of the royalty-like robes, stood in the middle of the room and continually switched his sights in between the three captives.

Boone's guard turned to Veronica and addressed her with shame in his voice, "Veronica… I'm disappointed in you. I knew you would get yourself into some trouble out there… but treason…"

"I, too, am disappointed, Veronica," the man in the robes turned to her, slowly shaking his head with distaste, "I knew you were rebellious… but a traitor?"

"Don't start getting preachy with me, McNamara," Veronica retorted, looking at the old man in the robes. Then, she turned to Boone's guard, "Don't you start neither, Hardin. I left the bunker, so what I do out there is none of your Goddamn business."

"Wait a minute," Colt said, taking a stake in the conversation and slipping on his hat and sunglasses. He stood up to face his captors, "You guys are the Brotherhood of Steel?"

The man in the blue robe, whom Veronica identified as McNamara, nodded, "Yes, that is correct; we are the Mojave Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel."

Colt finally pieced everything together; energy weapons, power armor, and the fact that he was a captor of the Brotherhood of Steel… they were the one's who ambushed the Ranger patrol and the patrol Colt was with… they betrayed the NCR…

"If you're the Brotherhood of Steel, then that means if anyone here is a traitor," Colt began, inching towards McNamara, "It's you guys. You breached your treaty with the NCR and attacked two NCR patrols, killing over a dozen men and women. That makes you traitors, if anything." Before he even knew it, Colt was only an inch or two from McNamara's face, trying to burn a hole straight through his hypocritical brain. Then, the man named Hardin stepped forward and grabbed Colt's arm.

"No, Hardin," McNamara said, pulling Hardin's arm away from Colt, "Let him spout his drivel and then we'll educate him." Hardin backed off, still staring coldly at Colt as he retook his position looming over Boone. McNamara turned back to Colt, "We did not breach that treaty; the NCR breached it first by hiring mercenaries to attack one of our squadrons. The Brotherhood just reacted accordingly."

"What?" Boone scoffed, amused at McNamara's accusation, "The NCR may be land grabbing, greedy bastards, but they are not disloyal or dishonest. They would not break a treaty."

Boone was wrong on that part; the NCR has broken treaties and promises in the past… that little fact is the whole reason Colt and the rest of them are even talking to each other.

"You don't think they would breach a treaty?" McNamara nearly laughed at Boone's comment, "Your patriotism is very amusing… the NCR has broken treaties and promises in the past, they have done it in the present, and its more than likely that they'll do it in the future. Just face it; the NCR is no more honorable than a Deathclaw is friendly."

"Alright," Colt scoffed, already knowing just how dishonorable the NCR can be, "Well, what the fuck do we have to do with any of that?"

"Easy; you're obviously not NCR soldiers, which makes you an outside force they must've hired to do their dirty work. That makes you mercenaries."

"I can already see where you're going with this and I'm going to tell you right now; we did not attack your squad and we are not mercenaries."

"Oh? You're not mercenaries?" McNamara asked, sounding a bit surprised that Colt even said that, "How are you not mercenaries? You're, obviously, not NCR troopers or Rangers and you're obviously doing a contract for them if you were even with that patrol… sounds like you're a mercenary to me."

"I-It's complicated."

"There's nothing complicated about being a mercenary. You do a contract and get paid. You should know that; you've done one contract for them already and killed our brothers, causing this entire complication we now find ourselves."

"Look, we're not mercenaries," Colt continued to press on the matter, practically on the verge of bringing his fist around the side of McNamara's skull… he was starting to get irritated by the man's ignorance of facts and his outrageous accusations, "We were being forced to join that patrol and we're being blackmailed… and what the fuck are you talking about? We haven't done any damn 'contracts' for them and we did not kill your brothers."

"You were being blackmailed?" McNamara asked, bviously ignoring the fact that the three prisoners were innocent, "What an unlikely story. The NCR does not have the time nor the resources to blackmail anyone."

"What?" Colt yelled, on verge of laughing with anger at McNamara's comment, "You believe the NCR has the time to deal with nostalgic organizations, such as the Brotherhood of Steel, hire mercenaries and break treaties, but you don't believe they'll blackmail someone? Just how fucking ignorant of the ways of the world are you? And, another thing, once again, we did not kill your 'brothers'! What possible reason would we have to do something like that?"

"Enough," McNamara retorted, waving off everything Colt just said and believing his words were fact and truth, "I am sick of listening to your lies and deceit. We know it was you who attacked that squad and you had every possible reason to do so; money, weapons, supplies… We know it was you and your friends who pulled that contract a few days ago. We know it was you who killed that squad. We know…"

"You know what? Bullshit? We didn't kill any squad and we didn't pull any 'contract', you crazy bastard!"

McNamara waved everything off once again, "I'm not arguing with you like an adolescent," he said, talking down to Colt, "You're mercenaries and we have proof that you three were contracted by the NCR and murdered our brothers. Now, I have other matters to attend to," he walked to the door and it slid open as the Elder approached it.

"No, we're not fucking done—"

McNamara cut Colt off again, his voice overcoming Colt's and making him become quiet, "Tomorrow, when I come back, I expect you to tell us the details of your mission. If you don't," before leaving, McNamara took a second glance back at the three, "Well, we'll get to the bridge when we cross it…" With that, McNamara finally left, followed closely by the guard named Hardin.

The doors hissed shut and, with a loud clang, locked behind them. The three prisoners were left alone in the cell with the last guard who stood over Veronica, looking down at his shuffling feet and shifting his position continuously in a somewhat thoughtful manner.

"Ramos," Veronica looked up towards the man, "What's going on?"

Ramos just let out a frustrated breath of air, "I'm afraid the Elder has gone a bit overboard with this entire situation…"

"What happened? Why is he holding us here?"

"Well," Ramos began, explaining the situation to the three clueless prisoners… he seemed to be the only one who sympathized with them and knew they didn't belong, "When the Brotherhood signed the treaty with the NCR, we were allowed access to some buildings that would prove useful to our endeavors of finding and preserving Pre-War technology. We claimed facilities such as the REPCONN Headquarters, REPCONN Testing Site, and, to much protest from certain members in the NCR Congress, we even reclaimed HELIOS One.

Well, after only a few months of digging deep into said buildings, we finally found something. Deep within HELIOS One, there was a deactivated military weapons system codenamed 'ARCHEMIEDES II'. It's an orbital laser artillery gun… very powerful and extremely dangerous. So, the Elder ordered to keep it dormant and away from the wrong hands… but that didn't last long. The NCR brass caught wind of the weapon and realized just how useful it could be in their fight against Caesar's Legion, so, they ordered us to hand it over. We refused and were systematically evicted out of the building… peacefully, but evicted nonetheless and that was the first breach of the treaty. Regardless to say, the Elder wasn't too happy and he sent a group of Paladins to Camp McCarran to discuss the terms of the treaty and how the NCR breached it… the squad was wiped out half way in between here and McCarran.

At first, McNamara believed it was the NCR that killed the Paladins, but I convinced him otherwise. The shots that killed the Paladins were too accurate and there were too few shots to be anything the NCR can put out. Usually, NCR troopers and even Rangers would spray and use as many shots as they can to take down enemies… but the shots that killed the Paladins were too precise to be normal spray; they were all headshots that centered around the eyes. Well, now the Elder has it in his head the Paladins were killed by mercenaries hired by the NCR and he believes you three were the mercenaries… convincing him NCR troopers didn't do it probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had and I'm sorry that my mouth is making you guys suffer in here."

"What proof does he actually have that we were the mercenaries?" Colt asked, leaning up against the wall, resting the muscles in his legs.

Ramos shrugged, "The only proof he has is the accuracy you and your First Recon friend have… that's it. But it doesn't matter; he'll just hold you here for consorting with the 'enemy', because you were with that patrol, willingly or not, and for killing two of our soldiers. Proof or no proof of murdering that squad of Paladins, you still aren't leaving any time soon… sorry to say."

"You don't seriously believe we had anything to do with that or that we're mercenaries, do you?" Veronica asked, looking intently at Ramos.

Ramos looked down at her, "No, kiddo, I don't. Look, I think the Elder has stepped out of line with holding your three as prisoners. Personally, I don't think you had anything to do with the Paladins' murder and I don't think you three were a threat; you guys were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"What makes you say that?" Colt asked, chuckling at the statement, very doubtful that Ramos felt that way towards the prisoners, "What makes you so sure we aren't hired mercenaries? What makes you so sure your Elder isn't correct?"

"For one," Ramos began as he turned to the man who doubted his views, "I know Veronica and I know, no matter how frustrated she gets with the Brotherhood, she will never do anything that goes against us. And two," Ramos pointed to Colt, "I've heard of you and I've followed you for a little while and I know you aren't with the NCR… more importantly, I know you're looking for someone and that you don't have any time to waste in here…" Colt felt an uplifting feeling and threw all doubts of Ramos out of his mind; at least there was someone in power armor who understood what he was doing. "Now," Ramos continued, "I'll try and talk some sense into the Elder about this misunderstanding; get this all straightened out. You guys are probably hungry too, so, I'll send someone to bring you some food."

Finally, Ramos left, leaving the three prisoners alone, the door making a hiss as it shut and locked behind him. There was a loud clang as the space in between the two gratings above them was filled in with a single sheet of black steel, leaving the room in complete darkness until the lights in the corners of the room flickered on, dimly lighting the cell. Colt let his back slid down the wall until he came to rest on the floor. He closed his eyes and began rubbing his forefinger and thumb on the top of the bridge of his nose, a headache pounding his head as he tried to think of a way out.

Veronica's voice piped up through the dim light, "What do we do now?"

There was silence until Colt answered through a quivering breath, "I… I don't know…"

He sat there; thinking about what to do next… or rather, what was there to do. He was trapped in the Brotherhood of Steel bunker, in the middle of God only knows where, as the Brotherhood and the NCR are about to go into a full blown war again and, now, he was probably never going to be released because they believe he was collaborating with their so called enemy.

A tear came to Colt's eye as he realized Cass was slipping away. He pulled his knees to his chest and embraced them. His heart ached just to see her again… to feel her touch… to her hear voice… but she was slipping away each and every day. Colt didn't know what to do; there was no way he was leaving here anytime soon, even if Ramos were to convince the Elder. And, even if he were to escape and get back to McCarran, Colt didn't believe the NCR would give him the information because of the death of their Mechanized Division patrol. He was at an impasse and he lost all hope of getting out of here, he lost all hope in the NCR, he lost hope of finding the Stallions… and finding Cass.

The cell door slid open and Colt looked up, eyeing the person coming in. It was a ghoul, dressed in the alien-like recon armor commonly used by Brotherhood Initiates, who stepped in while carrying a silver serving tray with three plates of dark red Brahmin steaks and three glasses of clear water. He looked from one prisoner to another and then started to hand them their meal.

"I've never seen you before," Veronica remarked as she looked closer at the ghoul handing her food and water.

"Oh, uh… I-I'm new here to the Mojave. I was transferred here from California," the ghoul said, answering Veronica's remarked as he went to Boone and handed him his food and water. The one thing that put this ghoul out from the rest was his thick Russian accent that Colt instantly picked up on. Colt looked up to at the ghoul, the tear fading away…

Russian? Colt thought to himself as he examined the ghoul that was handing him the plate and glass. Could he be…?

"Oh, really?" Veronica asked the ghoul, her mouth full of steak, "I didn't know they were recruiting outsiders."

"Well," the ghoul laughed, "I was a special occasion because of my… recent employments."

After the ghoul made sure everyone got their meal, he started for the door. But Colt called him out, making him stop, "Hey, ghoul," the ghoul turned around to face the man addressing him, "Are you Russian?"

The ghoul nodded, "Da, I came here just after the Great War."

"That's nice," Colt said, letting his sarcasm shine through his fake smile, knowing he was closer to knowing who the ghoul was and confirming his suspicions, "Now, when you got here, you wouldn't have happened to have run in a gang, now would you?"

"Uh," the ghoul hesitated, just making Colt ever more suspicious, "N-No. I arrived at the Boneyard in 2083 and after that, I moved around a lot. After awhile, I decided to do something with my life, so, I convinced the Brotherhood leadership to allow me to join the Brotherhood. Sorry, but, uh, I have to go; I have to continue my VR training." The ghoul left, the heavy metal door sliding shut behind him.

Veronica looked up from her Brahmin steak, which she was already half way through, and at Colt, "What was all that?"

Colt continued to look at the door where the ghoul was standing just minutes before, "He was with the Stallions."

"How do you know?"

Colt didn't break stare as he answered, "Because, there were four Russian ghouls who lead the Stallions. Two of them split before the founder, Aleksander, went insane. That ghoul was one of the two that left."

"How are you so sure he was one of the ghouls that left?"

"I don't know, but I just feel it," Colt finally broke the stare and turned to Veronica, "And how often is it that you meet a Russian ghoul in America?"

With that, silence once more dominated the room and Colt leaned back further against the wall, looking up at the ceiling and to the sky past all of the metal and earth. He wondered where Cass was and hoped she was having a better time than he was…

Meanwhile…

The light outside the tent illuminated through, giving the entire interior of the tent a bright red glow and lighting up the nylon fabric walls, making the interior walls look like a bright neon sign. The trademark golden scythe and sickle on the roof of the tent shined down on the interior, draping most of the tent in a holographic remake of the insignia. Inside the interior of the tent were two blue sleeping bags; one for the leader of the group and the other for their captive. The leader of the group sat in the tent's entrance, occasionally huffing on a cigarette and allowing the embers to light up his ghoulified face. The captive was lying on one of the sleeping bags, her hands and feet bound tightly together.

Cass wriggled her hands in the ropes, trying to free herself, but the knot was tight and secure and did not allow her to make any movements whatsoever. She needed to get out of here and find Colt… Colt… she missed him and she wished she were back with him… but it didn't seem very possible anymore. She was hoping that he would've found her by now, but that didn't happen; this gang was on the move way to much. First the El Dorado Dry Lake, New Vegas, Bittersprings, and, now, they were in some canyon that kept the group's Geiger counters on their toes. Wherever they were, there were some heavy doses of radiation nearby. It didn't matter where she or these thugs were; what mattered was her getting out of here and that's what she was trying to do, find her own way out.

Cass lifted her head, letting her bright red hair, which was fashioned into a ponytail, cascade down the back of her faded plaid shirt, and looked towards the man who was sitting in the entrance of the tent. He was just sitting there, smoking a cigarette and watching the campfire the others had started.

A man approached him and addressed his leader, "Sir, the group and I are ready to depart… we're just waiting for your order."

The man in the tent's entrance removed the cigarette and looked up at the shadow in front of him, "Good… you six can go. Throw your jackets into the campfire and destroy them; leave no evidence you were ever affiliated with me… now, go, leave and never look back. Live your lives… go…"

The shadow was silent for a minute and then finally spoke to his leader, "Thank you, Aleksander… thank you…" With that, footsteps retreated and then silence.

Aleksander went back to huffing on the cigarette, watching the campfire. Cass took advantage of the silence and continued to think of a way out. Finally, realizing it may be the only way, she slowly lifted her legs, planning to slip Aleksander's head in between her calves and either choke him out or kill him.

"I hope you're not expecting to try anything, Cass," Aleksander said as her legs reached his shoulder height.

Startled, Cass let her legs fall to the ground with a muffled thud and let out a frustrated sigh. She answered him, "No, Aleksander, I wasn't. I was just stretching."

"Stretch? Your hands and feet are bound by rope. Sorry, but you can't stretch."

"Thank you, but I think I know that."

"Well, thought I'd just remind you that you're not going to be set free right now… for everyone's safety."

"Aw, you won't let me go for a nice walk? Or let me have a drink? I'm not that dangerous…"

The man inhaled the tobacco, the embers lighting his face again, "I've lived in California and NCR long enough to have heard about you… the 'Whiskey Rose', am I right? You make it a habit to beat people senseless and I can't run the risk of you beating me or my men…" Then, under his breath, so low that Cass could barely make it out, he added, "At least not yet, not while I still can do some good…"

"Look, you know I won't have to be set free and I won't have to free myself, right? He's coming… you know that, don't you?" Cass asked, referring to Colt who she knew was looking for her and the Stallions… at least she hoped he was and she wasn't just making idle threats.

Aleksander paused for a moment as he sat there, legs folded up slightly and his arms resting on his knees, occasionally huffing on the cigarette. Finally, he spoke, "Da, I know he's coming… I know… I… I didn't want any of this happen…"

Cass looked at him, puzzled at the hint of remorse Aleksander gave in his tone of voice. That wasn't the fearsome Aleksander Lebedev that was astronomically infamous in the NCR. That Aleksander didn't show any mercy or remorse… what's changed? Cass lifted her legs into the air and slammed them onto the ground, propelling her upper body upwards, propping herself into a sitting position.

"What do you mean?" Cass inquired, tilting her head a little.

"I… I never wanted any of this to happen…" Aleksander answered in between deep breaths. Was he… sobbing? "I… I just wanted to finally be free of the Old World… to end this suffering that has plagued my life…"

"You wanted to end your own suffering by causing others misery? How the hell does that work?"

"It doesn't work," Aleksander said firmly, "When I ordered the destruction of that ranch, I was… blinded… by my hatred for the Old World. I thought I was doing the right thing…. but, I was wrong and I just caused another person the same suffering I have endured for a long… long time."

"You have suffered?" Cass asked, not feeling any sympathy for the man who has murdered dozens of innocent people, "I don't think you know what you put Colt through. I don't think you know his pain."

"I… I know what he's going through… I know what it is like to have your family taken away…" Aleksander answered slowly, not looking up from the ground and holding back weeping sobs, keeping his voice in a stable and serious manner,"I married my beautiful wife, Dashia, in 2048 and we lived happily together for five years before out lives drastically changed…

In 2052, the Resource Wars began and, as a result, I was drafted into the U.S.S.R military in 2053. Many of you Post-War people don't know it, but the Resource Wars was a world wide conflict, centered mainly in Europe in the Middle East, for the last remaining scrapes of resources known to man. It was a pointless war and, when I joined, I knew no good would come of it... wouldn't you know it, I was right… the Resource Wars tore apart the Middle East, Europe… the world. I was on the frontlines during the war and saw just how horrible it was… this was war between Caesar's Legion and the NCR was nothing like the Resource Wars. I stayed on the frontlines, watching my comrades die before me, for two straight years until I was finally allowed to go back home to Vladivostok on leave. My wife was waiting for me… she was the only thing that helped me out on the frontlines… knowing I was protecting her…

After a few years of constantly going from civilian life to war, the Resource Wars finally ended in 2060 when the last oil field in the Middle East dried up. I was sent home and spent a few more years with my beautiful Dashia," Aleksander dug into an inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a photograph, continuing his story as he looked at it, "In 2063, she gave birth to my daughter Khristina and then a year later she gave birth to my son Dimitri. We were one big happy family… at least until I, once again, was called into to service to defend my 'Mother Russia' and my 'Communist Brethren'. In 2066, the Chinese invaded Alaska, causing a full blown conflict between America and China. Soviet forces, mainly Spetsnaz, were sent to the Alaskan Frontline to assist in any way possible. Unfortunately, I was a Spetsnaz operator and I was separated from family again for years… and years… Dimitri and Khristina grew up so fast… and it made going to war worth it… I was protecting them and nothing more. Finally, I was able to be with them because, in 2077, the Chinese were completely pushed out of Alaska by the Americans and every Russian and Chinese soldier was sent home permanently… just in time to… the bombs dropped later that year and the world was engulfed in radiation and fire…" Aleksander faded as he looked up from the photograph and watched the fire outside, seemingly entranced by the flames.

"That's it?"

Aleksander scoffed, "That's only the beginning. Whenever I was on leave in the military, I began to slowly convert my home's basement into a bunker… I knew the War was coming… it was only a matter of time. Thankfully, I completed the bunker in time and, when the bombs fell, I rushed Dashia, Khristina, and Dimitri inside. We held out there for the two hour long bombardment; all of us crying subtly for our lives while bomb after bomb landed and shook the earth... screams of terror and pain from the people outside caught in the hellfire seeped into the bunker… it was horrible… finally, it ended... but the radiation outside was too strong and we could not leave. We stayed down there for three years, rationing the food supplies we had and waiting for the radiation to die down.

On the fourth year, there was a leak in the bunker… we became exposed to slowly increasing radiation levels. My son and daughter…" Aleksander paused, looking down and holding back tears, "Their small and frail bodies could not withstand the amount of radiation that slipped into the confined space… they died a month later and then my wife," Aleksander paused, burring his eyes into his hand, his cigarette lighting up the palm of his hand and the tears streaming down his face, "She died with them… I was the only one left alive and, as a sick, twisted and cruel joke, I started to become a ghoul and lived through it all. I emerged from the bunker the next year and found my friends, Vladimir, Nikolai, and Mikhail, and we came here on a nuclear submarine.

Well, the rest you should already know, being an NCR citizen and all…"

"Yeah, I know about you and what you've done… and it doesn't matter what's happened in the past; it does not justify what you have done. Causing pain to innocent people, people who had nothing to do with you in the first place, will not end your own suffering."

"Da… I know… I just wanted to keep the New World from being like that of the old and I wanted this world to have a new start… I guess it was just a fantasy; you can't just erase centuries of civilization and start fresh… the only thing I've managed to do is cause more people to suffer. That's why I'm leaving; so that I don't cause any more pain and hurt…"

"Leave? To where?" Cass asked, wondering how he was just going to vanish, "There's not a place you can go in the Mojave where people that want you won't find you."

Aleksander looked up at the sky, "You're right… there's not one place in the Mojave… that's why I'm leaving to some where far, far away… some where no one knows who I am… some where I can start anew… some where I can live peacefully for the rest of my life and actually do some good before I fade into history…"

"What if the NCR comes looking for you? Or Colt?"

Aleksander, for the first time, turned to Cass. His look was hard, but not one if anger or fury. With understanding and acceptance in his voice, he said, "It's not if they come… it's when they come and when they come… I will accept what's coming to me and I will not struggle," Aleksander turned back to the outside world, "But, I will try to do some good before that time comes… and, don't worry, when I leave the Mojave, I will not take you with me… I will leave you her and Colt will, soon enough, find you… it's the one bit of good I can actually do here. Now, enough talk..." With that, Aleksander didn't say another word as he continued to look outside the tent's entrance.

Cass laid back down on the sleeping bag and let out a breath of air. She wondered where Colt was and if he was alright… she missed him and didn't know why. She's never felt like this towards another person… there was just something about him and her that connected and it all felt natural. Whatever it was, she liked it… and, hopefully, he was close to finding her so they could be together again... she just hoped that the maniac in the tent's entrance would keep his word and release her when he leaves…

A/N: Okay, that's it. Like I said, it was long. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and, please, tell me what you think!